Ep 121. Scream All You’d Like. (3)

Ep 121. Scream All You’d Like. (3)

Ep 121. Scream All You’d Like. (3)

Among mages, ‘circle’ was a unit of measurement denoting an individual’s mastery in their arts. Ranging from 1st to 12th, a higher circle translated to a higher mastery in their fields.

However, the 12th circle was a level reserved for the deity of mana, Felicis herself. Ever since the system’s creation, mages had reserved the highest level for the overseer of magic.

Then, what of the remaining circles?

Commonly, 1st to 3rd circles were reserved for novices and students; the term ‘mage’ commonly referred to those belonging to the 4th circle or higher. Those who reached the 7th circle were considered proficient mages, and individuals would begin to be referred as archmages from 9th and onwards, having mastered their respective field of magic.

And this was also where the rift between each circle would widen drastically.

If the 9th circle denoted a perfect mastery in typical magic, the 10th circle denoted one’s capacity to seemingly make one’s dreams come to life. Those who reached the 11th circle were considered capable of overcoming nature’s laws to realize miracles.

Of course, because the higher circles were literally considered to belong in a realm of dreams and miracles, those who reached it were few and far between; historically, times where there wasn’t an 11th circle mage far exceeded times where there was one.

Hence, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Light was observing a historical moment unfolding before her eyes.

‘That’s...magic?’

Hidden under numerous veils of magic Karas had put on her, the half girl carefully approached the dragons, wary of her teacher’s duel.

An ocean of flawless light seemed to flood their surroundings, and elements of all sorts bloomed from their midst. As if to reject their deaths, the elements Karas summoned continued to bloom amongst each other, resisting the oncoming deluge.

Eventually, the light would shatter like thin glass, the elements whittling away after being snuffed of their life.

“...Hmph.”

Scoffing, Lavnore shrugged towards the feathered figure.

“How nostalgic, Xar. I can’t imagine how many you’ve devoured since our last meeting. Once I’m devoured as well, you’ll practically be invincible.”

“...”

Although Karas was vaguely aware of the emperor speaking to him, he couldn’t afford to listen very carefully...due to a certain someone chatting his ear off.

“I’m curious about that too. How many souls do you even have within you? I could swear the number was in thousands from what I just saw. Aren’t they loud? Or heavy? Or just a hassle to carry around in general? Where’re you keeping them in the first place? Is your body just a huge prison cell?”

“...”

Ignoring the Reaper’s endless chatter, Karas instead turned his attention behind him. Thankfully, the two younglings had fully risen back to their feet, supported by the half girl veiled by his own spells.

“...He’ll reach his limit soon. Be alert.”

With a brief comment, the professor quickly returned his attention to the enemy up ahead.

Although there were tons of questions the three wanted to ask Karas, they merely nodded their heads for the time being. Time was not a luxury they could afford right now.

And once again, colored elements began synthesizing themselves above the professor’s palm to form a luminous, orange orb of light – which seemingly made Lavnore throw his head back in laughter.

“Penta synthesis...that’s the best you can do, isn’t it? This is why you’ll never best me in magic, Xar.”

Mimicking the feathered figure, Lavnore likewise raised his hands as five different elements synthesized above his palm. But soon, a sixth, then seventh...additional elements gathered into his hand, synthesizing a brilliant, ominous grey light.

When both streams of magic were released, the collision was heavily one-sided. The burst of grey light rapidly ate away at Karas’ spell, and the professor had long lost the calm in his expression.

Karas gripped his trembling hand with the other, struggling to stand his ground. But despite his efforts, his magic was falling apart before the emperor’s – and its caster would follow suit in time.

But just as the emperor’s spell threatened to overwhelm him, a tempting voice echoed into the professor’s ears.

“Would you like some help?”

With a light smile, Felicir leisurely spun his fingers, floating right in front of the struggling professor.

“You might know me as just a mere death deity, but you know, I was actually quite the mage myself before that; the shard of mana was mine to begin with. Though of course, there are conditions for receiving my help.”

Struggling to maintain his crumbling magic, Karas barely managed to turn his eyes, glaring daggers at the deity leisurely floating around him.

“Conditions...in a situation like this? Are you fucking insane?!”

“My. Keep your voice down, your student’s going to hear you. She’s right behind you, you know.”

“...”

Widening his smile, the Reaper held out his hand, two fingers raised.

“The conditions are simple. One, you allow me to retain form; two, you protect Aymeia.”

“...To hell with your conditions, who’s protecting who?! Are you blind to what’s happening?!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be nice and help you first.”

Felicir then stretched out his hand, his translucent limb sinking into the professor’s body without resistance. With a wry smile, the Reaper’s conscious voluntarily flowed into the monster’s body.

‘Don’t resist now. Unless you’d rather die with your student?’

‘Magic? Souls? Whatever this is, it can’t be anything beyond Xar’s capability. If it comes down to it, then...!’

But while the emperor’s attention was fixed on the enormous tear in the sky, Karas casually looked into the distance beyond the emperor.

There, three others were mustering the remains of their strength, preparing what the professor had instructed just minutes prior.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Sorry, I’m not very good with healing spells...”

Light worriedly studied the two dragons from head to toe. Although they were now stably standing on their own feet, the two dragons still seemed to be in no shape to be moving, much less fighting.

Charred, molten skin still comprised most of their bodies. And Raizel was just missing parts of her flesh altogether, as if they’d completely molten off.

But neither seemed to mind. In fact, Ilias was grinning as usual, waving reassuringly at her little sister.

“It’s fine, Light! I’d still be on the floor without you. Besides, all I’m doing is throwing her in there. Although...Raizel, are you sure you’re okay? You’re in way worse shape than me. And your arm is...”

“I’m fine. Not the first time I’ve done that.”

Raizel raised her left arm to show where her wound had been. After she’d ripped out her own bones to use as an escape tool, the steel dragon had restored her missing frame with magic as she had always done; her arm would continue to function, at least while her spell lasted.

Someone else will fix her later. Probably.

Light wore a heavy frown as she exchanged glances with the two dragons. Her eyes then fell on the hazel blade, glimmering in Raizel’s burnt hand.

“...Is that one okay? I just grabbed the first one I saw...”

“Meh. It’s as good as any.”

“...Um, is this actually gonna work? What if he realized that we’re missing...?”

“Doesn’t look like it. And what if he did? Should I just leave your teacher to die in there by himself?”

“...”

“Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

Raizel spared a brief glance at the distraught half girl. Her little frame was madly shaking, afraid to even meet the dragons’ eyes.

Sighing, Raizel casually ran her hand through Light’s hear, ruffling it into a mess.

“Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to die.”

Without waiting for an answer, Raizel gave a curt nod towards the red dragon.

In response, Ilias briefly closed her eyes as red scales began encroaching upon the entirety of her body. As her human form became buried in a mass of crimson, the red dragon emerged in her proper form, offering one hand to which Raizel hopped onto.

As Ilias pulled back her hand, both dragons braced themselves for what was probably the most ridiculous thing they’d done in a while.

‘...Then again, we’ve done worse!’

And if they ever had a good reason to do something ridiculous, it was right now.

Every muscle tensed as the red dragon put strength into her arm. In split seconds, Ilias swung her arm in a giant arc, sending her friend bolting forward at an unprecedented speed.

‘HOLY SH-‘

Raizel tightened the grip on her new weapon, speeding against the rushing winds. The steel dragon’s eyes remained firmly focused on her oblivious target.

“? Wh-“

Things might’ve been different had Lavnore been aware of the incoming missile.

Things might’ve been different had the missile not been thrown by a literal dragon.

And things might’ve been different had the missile not held what she was holding.

Alas, none of those were true.

Raizel crashed into Ephea’s image, slamming the hazel blade into the golden dragon. She’d expected Ephea to offer resistance, but on the contrary, Raizel was hardly met with any; as her blade connected, the spell holding the golden dragon in place was simply reduced to dust.

And, almost too easily, the youngling slammed into the unaware emperor with a bone-wrenching noise. Both of them flew across the distance until they finally grinded to a slow halt.

When the dust settled, Raizel found her blade firmly lodged into the emperor’s chest, pinning him down to the ground beneath her.

“...”

“...”

Both the attacker and the attacked stared at the buried weapon in shock.

Only the act’s facilitator remained unsurprised, clapping his hands at Raizel’s accomplishment.

“See? And there you have it. Tricked.”