Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Chapter 8 - Who Will Bell the Cat
In the world of mages, hierarchy was determined by one’s Circle.
Among the nobility, status and rank usually dictated authority, but mages were one of the few professions where relationships were decided purely by ability rather than birth.
With that in mind, Teshalos Wolcher had just suffered the greatest insult of his life.
"Not bad."
’What do you mean, not bad? Does this brat think a Mage is a joke?’
A mage’s title was determined by their Circle.
The First Circle was called a Mana Walker.
The Second Circle was called a Spell Blower.
The Third Circle was called a Magic Walker.
Only after reaching the Fourth Circle did one finally earn the title of Mage.
The name itself signified that they were finally recognized as true practitioners of magic.
’And this brat who’s only a Mana Walker dares say I’m "not bad"?’
What kind of position was a First Circle mage?
They were nothing more than the bottom of the pyramid, expected to bow not only to Third Circle mages but even to those of the Second Circle.
And someone like that had just looked at a Fourth Circle Mage and casually said...
"Not bad."
"Not bad."
"Not bad."
"Not bad."
"Not bad."
Those two words became the reverse scale lodged in Teshalos’s mind.
The Circle residing within his Dantian spun violently.
It was at the point where it would not have been strange if he unleashed magic at any moment.
He could have lost his reason and attacked on the spot.
Fortunately for him, Ferda made a proposal worthy of gratitude.
A mere First Circle mage had challenged him to a duel.
Teshalos intended to teach the arrogant brat a lesson.
The two had moved to an open field for their magical duel.
Standing some distance apart, each prepared in their own way.
"There’s something I’d like to ask. Do you mind?"
Teshalos answered curtly.
"What?"
"What kind of magic do you use?"
Teshalos stared at him in disbelief.
"You’re asking your opponent about his magic before a mage’s duel? Isn’t that incredibly rude?"
"Was that considered rude? Hmm... My apologies. It’s been such a long time since I’ve dueled someone."
Teshalos could hardly believe those words.
A First Circle mage should never be saying something like that.
’What an unbelievably arrogant little bastard!’
At that moment, Teshalos made a vow.
He would pour everything he had into killing this brat.
Meanwhile, Ferda barely paid Teshalos any attention.
’Right... It’s finally coming back to me.’
It had been more than twenty years since Ferda had last fought a formal duel.
The reason was understandable.
The last duel he remembered had ended badly.
The mage who lost to him and couldn’t swallow the humiliation had gathered companions and ambushed him in the middle of the night.
Since then, Ferda had never believed in the fairness of duels.
Whenever someone looked ready to fight, he simply killed them first.
That was why he had forgotten the rules of a mage’s duel.
A mage’s duel is like playing cards through a curtain.
Neither side knew what cards the other held or how many they possessed.
They revealed them one by one.
It was a game that demanded theory, skill, and wisdom.
’He’s a Fourth Circle Mage, so he should be able to cast at least eight spells in a single battle... and he’ll certainly have access to Fourth-Tier Magic.’
Tier Magic referred to spells that could only be used by those who had reached a specific Circle.
Since Teshalos was a Fourth Circle Mage, he could wield magic up to the Fourth Tier.
The amount of Mana he possessed also exceeded Ferda’s several times over.
’It’s like throwing an egg at a boulder.’
Ferda already knew that everything favored Teshalos.
Even so, he never once believed he would lose.
’I’m not foolish enough to lose to a merely decent mage.’
That was what Ferda thought.
"Well, since the handicap is so obvious, I’ll tell you one thing."
Teshalos spoke with a sinister grin.
Since he was offering information, there was no reason not to listen.
"What is it?"
"I, Teshalos Wolcher, will use Magic Blast in this duel. If you’re truly a mage, I trust you know what that spell is."
The surrounding lords, even more than Ferda, gasped in surprise and began whispering.
"Magic Blast...?"
"Isn’t that the powerful spell specialized entirely for destructive firepower?"
Among Fourth-Tier spells, it was the one devoted purely to overwhelming destructive power.
Its tremendous force also made it relatively easy for other Fourth Circle mages to counter.
But that only applied to mages of the same level.
For those below them, it was another matter entirely.
Especially for a First Circle mage like Ferda.
He had no chance.
That was precisely why Teshalos had said it.
Submit now while you still can, you bastard.
"Hmm, is that so?"
Ferda tilted his head before nodding in understanding.
"Very well. Then I’ll tell you one thing as well. The only spell I can use is Mana Shot."
"Mana Shot? You think you can defeat me with such a basic spell?"
Ferda waved his hand dismissively.
"Oh, you don’t need to worry about me. Unlike you, I simply know a great deal more."
"You insolent little brat...!"
The aura surrounding Teshalos erupted violently.
"I’ll erase you from this land without leaving even a trace!"
Even in the face of such murderous intent, it failed to reach Ferda.
’So he’s also the owner of a Red Circle.’
There was only one explanation for growing stronger after abandoning calmness and giving in to emotion.
He was a mage similar to Ferda.
He, too, had cultivated his magic through inferiority and resentment.
’This feeling... it’s strangely familiar.’
Ferda was certain he had encountered it before.
It was like trying to reach chopsticks lying at the bottom of a bottle.
So close that his fingertips seemed able to touch them—yet never quite reaching.
Something kept scratching at the depths of his memories.
’I’ll think about it later. Right now, I need to focus on the battle.’
No matter what, this was a battle between a First Circle and a Fourth Circle mage.
Ferda had already measured his own capabilities.
’An ordinary First Circle mage can create only three Mana Shot orbs.’
That was simply because they lacked experience, concentration, and sensitivity toward magic.
’I can create six.’
If he wanted to avoid suffering the aftereffects of Mana exhaustion, however...
Five was his limit.
That meant he had five opportunities.
"Haaah!"
The raging flow of Mana condensed into Teshalos’s palm.
The gathered Mana swirled together, forming a massive circle.
A Magic Circle.
Within it, mystical runes took shape based on the spell Teshalos had memorized.
The wind brushing against Ferda’s cheek told him everything.
The killing intent was overwhelming.
’The output... He truly intends to kill me.’
But it didn’t matter.
If that murderous intent never reached its target...
Then it meant nothing.
Teshalos had declared he would finish everything with a single strike.
Ferda intended to do exactly the same.
He formed spheres of magical power even faster than Teshalos.
One sphere appeared above each finger.
Five spheres in total floated over his hand.
Even after Ferda’s attack had been completed, Teshalos’s Magic Blast was still being constructed.
"It’s over."
Ferda spoke calmly.
"I’ve won."
The moment he declared victory, the five spheres shot toward Teshalos.
Five arcs streaked through the air.
"What the...?!"
Teshalos’s eyes widened in shock.
Before he could even finish speaking, Ferda’s attack was already over.
Boom!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Thud!
From where Teshalos stood came four explosive blasts and one heavy, dull impact.
The earth of the clearing burst upward.
Dust billowed into the air.
A moment later, everyone present could finally see the result.
"Urgh..."
Teshalos, who had been in the middle of chanting his Magic Circle, collapsed onto the ground with a groan.
His right hand, which he clutched desperately, had swollen bright red.
His body trembling, Teshalos looked at Ferda and spoke in a low voice.
"I... have lost..."
The arrogant First Circle brat—
Ferda had won.
***
Teshalos found himself facing a situation that could only be described as astonishing.
He replayed every moment that he had failed to understand during the battle.
’The Mana Shot that flew toward my face.’
The sphere released from Ferda’s middle finger had shot straight toward Teshalos’s eyes.
Anyone would die if their head were pierced.
Yet it normally wasn’t enough to shake a mage.
Even for a Red Circle mage, losing concentration would break a spell.
But something flying directly toward one’s eyes was different.
No human being could remain completely unfazed in such a situation.
So while continuing his incantation, Teshalos cast a defensive spell.
He was a Fourth Circle Mage, capable of attacking and defending simultaneously.
The three projectiles he had assumed were aimed at his torso should have been stopped by his defensive magic.
’His target wasn’t my body... it was the Magic Circle.’
Instead, they exploded directly in front of the Magic Circle, destroying the spell formation that had been maintaining its structure.
’He destroyed the Magic Circle...’
That was what truly astonished Teshalos.
Unless a Magic Circle was constructed perfectly, it would inevitably contain weak points in the flow of magical power.
If an explosion occurred precisely at one of those weak points, it was possible to reduce the spell’s effectiveness.
But reducing its effectiveness and destroying it outright were two completely different matters.
That level of technical mastery normally belonged only to mages of at least the Fifth Circle.
Yet this man had done exactly that.
He had destroyed the Magic Circle.
’And to finish... he struck the back of my right hand with a low-output Mana Shot.’
By lowering its power, Ferda had made one thing perfectly clear.
He had never intended to kill him.
At the same time, he had conveyed another message.
If I had wanted to, you would already be dead.
Everything pointed to Ferda’s complete victory.
Even Teshalos, whose head had been burning with rage, could do nothing but admit defeat.
Even those who knew nothing about magic could clearly tell who had won.
’How could a First Circle mage defeat a Fourth Circle mage?’
’Did he use some kind of trick? They couldn’t allow the Grand Duchess’s fiancé to die...’
’The only one capable of such a trick would be...’
Several lords cautiously turned their heads toward Luri.
Could a dragon have secretly interfered?
Sensing their gaze, Luri glared at them with her silver eyes.
"Would you kindly look elsewhere before I pluck those eyes out?"
"Eek!"
"A-Ahem..."
Luri openly displayed her disgust.
Unlike Ferda, she had no reason whatsoever to treat them politely.
"Do you concede?"
"...I concede."
Letting out a hearty laugh, Teshalos said,
"I never imagined I would encounter someone of this caliber here. The world truly is vast."
He respectfully lowered his head, acknowledging Ferda’s skill.
"You are quite exceptional compared to other Fourth Circle mages. Having someone like you on our side is truly fortunate."
"Haha... It is an honor to meet such a master outside the capital. Perhaps being demoted wasn’t entirely a bad thing after all."
The moment he heard those words, Ferda stiffened.
"...Did you say you were demoted?"
"Yes."
"For political reasons?"
"That’s right."
The words began swirling through Ferda’s mind.
A Red Circle mage.
A political demotion.
Inferiority.
Mana of a similar nature.
Revenge.
"What was your name again?"
"Teshalos Wolcher."
Only then did Ferda finally understand.
"Teshalos Wolcher... Yes..."
"I finally remember."
"You know me?"
A question mark practically appeared above Teshalos’s head.
He searched his memory, wondering whether they had ever met before.
But there had never been any connection between himself and House Rosnova.
Even so, Ferda nodded.
"I do know you."
"You were my benefactor."
"Your benefactor...? When did we ever meet?"
"Not in the past."
"This is a story from the distant future."
"The distant future? What in the world are you—"
Bang!
His words never continued.
A large hole suddenly appeared in Teshalos’s forehead.
Ferda’s index finger was still pointed at him.
A Mana Shot had pierced straight through his skull.
"Which means..."
"I can’t allow you to live."
***
Everyone who had witnessed Ferda’s actions stood frozen in horror.
Ferda had killed a noble.
No one was permitted to deliberately murder a noble.
Not even the fiancé of Grand Duchess Valdrova could be forgiven for such a crime.
How could anyone commit such a heinous act?
He deserved condemnation.
He deserved criticism.
Yet Ferda had his reasons.
’Teshalos intended to kill me as well...’
’Wouldn’t this count as... legitimate self-defense?’
The lords all knew exactly what Teshalos had intended.
Driven by personal emotions, he had begun casting a Fourth-Tier spell powerful enough to kill the Grand Duchess’s future husband.
The only stain on Ferda’s actions was that he had executed Teshalos outside the formal bounds of the duel.
Ordinarily, the lords would have pounced like piranhas upon such an opportunity.
Instead, they merely looked at one another.
Every one of them shared the exact same thought.
Which one of us mice is going to bell that cat?
After killing Teshalos, Ferda turned around.
Fresh blood from the hole in Teshalos’s forehead had splattered across Ferda’s face.
That expressionless face...
Covered in blood...
The combination sent chills through every lord present.
Ironically, Ferda himself had absolutely no idea.
He had no mental energy left to care.
’I’m dizzy.’
He had exhausted every last drop of Mana within his body.
The difference between leaving one percent remaining and reaching absolute zero was enormous.
Ferda had deliberately emptied himself completely to leave no room for error.
Now the backlash struck him in the form of a splitting headache and intense dizziness.
Even remaining conscious was difficult.
Controlling his facial expression was impossible.
As a result, he looked like someone seething with anger.
"Why are you all staring at me like that?"
"Uh... W-Well..."
Their eyes unconsciously drifted toward Teshalos’s corpse.
Only then did Ferda understand.
"Ah, is this because of Teshalos?"
"Don’t concern yourselves."
"He was a man who deserved to die."
His body swayed like that of a drunken man.
The muscles in his face twitched involuntarily.
"If he had remained alive, he would have done something that would have caused the Grand Duchess great sorrow."
"Y-You mean... the Grand Duchess herself?"
"Indeed."
"The Grand Duchess is a compassionate person."
"She loves humanity."
"She fights for their sake."
At that moment, another wave of pain shot through his head.
It was so intense that his normally expressionless face twisted into a frightening scowl.
It looked as though he were openly expressing disgust.
"I dislike anyone who makes her sad."
"Are you saying... someone from the Wolcher family would have done such a thing?"
"No."
"I simply knew with certainty that he eventually would."
The lords became even more confused.
’W-What kind of nonsense is he talking about?’
’He says the man would have done it with certainty? That means he hadn’t actually done anything yet!’
’Is the Grand Duchess’s future husband really this completely insane?!’
Unable to predict his next move even for a moment, cold sweat ran down their backs.
Ferda sensed the fear coming from them.
Thinking they might have misunderstood his intentions, he emphasized his point once more.
"Do not worry."
"I truly couldn’t care less what any of you do."
He meant it sincerely.
After all...
Who among them was going to bell that mad cat?
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