Chosen by the Northern Grand Duke

Chapter 19: Ios of the Ivory Tower (2)

Ios.

From the Ivory Tower.

Origin: drawing, or pen and ink.

4th Rank when he infiltrated Serzila, 5th when exposed in the distant future.

Conspired with the tunnel-digger, proliferating tunnels for the Otherworld.

The true killer of Serzila’s Intelligence Bureau chief.

‘Probably caused more trouble.’

That’s all I knew.

Thought it was enough.

Wrong.

‘Too much I don’t know.’

I thought I knew enough.

Despite returning, I knew only a fraction.

“You…!”

Ios’ face twisted in pain.

His severed right arm stained the white snow red.

A drawing was on the arm.

Probably covered his body.

All excuses. I anticipated and could’ve killed him.

Forged body, 3rd Rank magic, surprise attack. Enough to slice him and his drawings.

But… I didn’t kill him.

Realizing my ignorance, I hesitated, aiming to capture.

‘Could’ve caught another mage.’

If I got info from Ios, I could get more from another.

‘Arrogant. Not there yet.’

I clicked my tongue and swung the fire-sword again.

The flames lost their sword shape, scattering. A drawing. Ink-like magic wove through the air.

It looked like a shield.

A water shield.

“Glory to Serzila’s sword!”

Gullen shouted suddenly from above.

Leaping over me and the ink shield, his heavy sword swung.

Clang!

It struck Ios’ crown, sounding like metal. Unable to cut, Gullen’s torso recoiled with the sword.

‘Drawing on his scalp too.’

I marveled at his preparation.

Realizing mages were like that, I pulled Gullen’s collar. Ink speared where he stood.

“Your sword can’t pierce. 4th Rank.”

“…”

Grit.

Gullen ground his teeth. His sword vibrated, his hand trembling.

“Not meaningless.”

He took the hit, forcing Ios to expend magic.

Not to show off rank difference.

When Gullen swung, I saw Ios’ eyes. They couldn’t follow the arc.

‘Bookworm.’

Some mages didn’t train their bodies.

Ivory Tower mages often did, finding it inelegant. They studied Origins instead.

“Calm down? Let’s talk.”

Ios didn’t answer, shoving his left hand into his coat, awkwardly.

‘Not meaningless.’

Flames aimed at a gap were blocked by the ink shield.

I stepped on Gullen’s shoulder, charging. My fist, laced with fire, hit Ios’ cheek. His head didn’t turn. Up close, a skin-colored drawing writhed.

“Tenacious.”

He spent body-training time drawing.

Ios’ awkward left hand pulled out not a pen, but paper with a chestnut-like drawing.

Ios’ lips moved.

I threw the paper, igniting flames. Ink spikes pierced the flames, stopping at my nose.

“Not much of an artist for a painter.”

Not a hedgehog, just spikes.

I touched the ink, laughing. The magic was substantial.

“Truly 3rd Rank.”

Ios grinned.

Origins had compatibilities.

But they mattered at equal ranks.

Now, ink surpassed fire.

Ios’ magic outclassed mine.

“Not enough to gloat.”

The air heated.

No, localized. If past flames spread wide, these erupted narrowly.

A sudden flame pierced the drawing, grazing Ios’ cheek. A drop or two of blood, but a clear wound.

It shouldn’t have been.

He’d already spent considerable magic at the Border.

“How long were you at the Border? A day? Two?”

I sneered.

Ios did too.

“Country bumpkin. Not born in paradise.”

Ios’ left hand drew more paper.

Dozens, his coat still bulging. More remained.

“The ignorant continent, unaware of rank’s absoluteness.”

Three sheets spread before Ios.

Five blocked the moonlight, ten encircled me evenly.

“I’ll teach you rank.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I replied, unenthused.

***

Aura was likened to fire, magic to water.

Fire’s heat was felt beyond walls, but water’s presence and volume weren’t sensed until the door opened.

Not knowledge I had.

I told Gullen while waiting for midnight.

‘Only when a mage casts can you feel their magic.’

Its quality and quantity gauged their level.

‘They might show less or all. Guessing’s up to you.’

Not crucial, I added.

‘Assume the latter and fight.’

‘What if it’s the former?’

‘That’s already trouble. They’re toying with you. Do what you want and die easy. You were outmatched.’

Now was that trouble.

Ios, a 4th Rank Otherworld mage, showed all.

So did I.

That was the problem. Even to Gullen, new to magic, the gap was clear.

‘You’re the same.’

‘Against a 5th Rank, yes.’

‘You’re 3rd Rank.’

‘I can handle 4th Rank.’

‘That’s not what you said.’

‘Works for me. Don’t copy.’

Yet…

My magic was overwhelmed by Ios’.

Narrow flames were sharp but couldn’t pierce his ink.

Wild flames to consume the world were extinguished by ink.

That magic.

Gullen felt despair. A Serzila knight shouldn’t, but he saw only death ahead.

A 4th Rank mage was such a being.

Tursten’s claim of nearly killing one might be bravado.

Gullen thought so.

That made me seem greater.

Unlike my confidence, I was taking hits but enduring.

I dodged overwhelming magic, weakened unavoidable ones with fire, and endured with my body. I kept attacking.

He looked like a seasoned warrior and mage.

More experienced than most knights. The daytime duel was just a glimpse.

Gullen couldn’t mimic.

Couldn’t intervene. Not fear.

For Serzila, he’d give his life anytime, ready to advance knowing death awaited.

But not now.

Intervening would hinder, not help.

I was walking a tightrope; he’d knock me off.

Boom!

Beasts leaped from three spread papers.

A wolf clawed, another gaped its maw. An elephant dropped, crushing me.

I rolled, dodging.

Flames rose where I rolled, repelling ink beasts. The fluid fire flowed to my hand.

To Gullen, it looked recycled.

Using magic until it was spent, due to my lack.

“Clever trick.”

Ios mocked.

A fire-sword severed the beasts’ necks.

They bled ink, their bodies dissolving, soaking the ground. Unlike mine, they didn’t return to Ios.

“You can’t draw a nail.”

I sneered.

Was he that man? Gullen tilted his head.

Not acting fake, my attitude toward Ios was sharp, full of mockery and provocation.

“I’ll teach you, for your head. And info.”

Ios’ face twitched.

He scattered paper. It spread, raining ink like blades.

No escape. Ten sheets blocked the space.

I moved within, not trying to break out, the rank gap clear.

Flames rose on my body.

Ink blades thinned as they neared but didn’t vanish, grazing my skin.

A new sheet spread before me. A giant palm struck. My body hit the encircling barrier and fell.

A chance for Ios, a crisis to Gullen.

But the attack stopped. A red line crossed Ios’ face, from eye to brow. Smoke rose from the thin wound, like seared by a hot iron.

“Missed a chance.”

Gullen saw death in that wound.

A slight shift, and Ios would’ve died. I missed what might’ve been my last chance.

“I’ll hit next time.”

Yet I wasn’t regretful.

I provoked Ios further.

Rising, I spread my arms, showing my body.

Blood flowed, but no serious wounds.

“4th Rank’s nothing.”

My eyes met Gullen’s.

“Don’t interfere. Not needed.”

“…”

I was smiling.

With death before me.