Ch. 54
Chapter 54: Traces (2)
The next most important thing after martial arts was the trace left behind by 《Justice》.
The hypothesis that had been inferred only from records had surfaced due to this exploration.
In particular, the trial and the inscription left on the stele were more than enough to stir Carl’s excitement.
「Seek my sword in the Imperial Palace.」
Had he, like Carl, prepared some arrangement for later generations who would come from the Central Plains to Artenia?
The trial granted within the temple had appeared solely to him.
If ranked purely by strength, Laysis would also be among the top after him, yet she continued the exploration without incident.
‘That would mean the temple’s trial only responds to those who have learned martial arts.’
Given the current circumstances, that seemed the most likely explanation.
What Carl was curious about was what 《Justice》 had left behind for future generations.
‘A master of 《Justice》’s level would never leave traces without a reason.’
If he had gone so far as to prepare troublesome devices like a trial and a stele, there had to be another purpose.
A story related to a hero.
It was clear at a glance that this was no ordinary matter, and it piqued Carl’s interest.
“The Imperial Palace part will resolve itself in time.”
The easiest method was to inherit the title of Count Leipzig.
As a Border Count responsible for a section of the frontier, he would be required to visit the Imperial Palace several times a year on a regular basis.
But receiving a title solely for the sake of entering the Imperial Palace was a burdensome matter.
‘First and foremost, it would tie me down.’
Carl had not yet set any concrete plans for after graduating from Bayern Academy.
Inheriting the household over his elder brothers was one option, but the chances were extremely slim.
If a title became necessary, he could simply make contributions as ‘Karl Leipzig’.
Alternatively, he could appoint or win over a proxy—there was no need to burden himself with Leipzig’s fate.
‘If I really pushed it, I could move up the timing of entering the palace a little.’
But, as mentioned earlier, this was a matter that time would resolve.
There was no reason to sink excessive resources into the hero matter, so he set the thought aside.
At the moment, he was already busy enough ensuring NOX settled securely in the capital’s shadows.
‘Even knowing simply why he crossed over from the Central Plains to here would be enough.’
How had 《Justice》 come from the Central Plains to Artenia?
Had he, like Carl, possessed the body of a native here after dying?
Or had he crossed over in his own body?
Perhaps that might even reveal the reason Carl himself had come to inhabit this body.
“…Thinking he’s still alive might be going too far.”
Roughly a thousand years had passed since the time of the heroes.
But those who transcended human limits often had lifespans befitting their realm.
It was common for those who reached the Realm of Transcendence to easily surpass a century in age.
They were merely unknown because most lived in seclusion, but as an assassin in the Central Plains, Carl knew that such monsters slumbered in places designated as forbidden grounds.
‘Especially since this world has many long-lived races that easily surpass a thousand years.’
Dragons, elves, spirits, and so on.
So it would be no surprise if lifespans here were even longer than in the Central Plains.
“I’ll have to investigate this part further.”
It was something that could be done step by step.
There was no reason to rush.
Week 4.
It was the point where the new cadets began to shed their rookie air.
Lectures entered full swing, and the level of accompanying assignments and practicals jumped significantly.
However, the cadets’ focus remained on the subjugation exercise scheduled to begin next weekend.
“I heard there’s a friendly match today.”
“Some fool’s acting cocky again. Let’s smash them.”
“Should I warm up a bit?”
Cadets began gathering by party, and friendly matches—mock battles with other parties for mutual improvement—became common.
The practical was a valuable chance to earn a lot of points, so everyone gave it their all.
Only Darius’s party trained in complete independence.
Occasionally, other parties requested friendly matches, but without exception, all were refused.
“A ‘friendly match’ is just a fancy way of saying messing around and bickering.”
On a weekday afternoon, Darius smirked as he looked at the juniors gathered at the training ground.
“Of course, it’s not completely useless, but you’d be better off honing your blade instead. I’ll spar with you until you’re sick of it.”
The most important thing in the subjugation exercise was coordination.
Since each party would be facing monsters and magical beasts that charged in, it was vital to grow so familiar with each other that a glance, a nod, the angle of a weapon, or even a toe movement could serve as quick communication.
“Yes, sir!”
“We’ll keep that in mind!”
The cadets generally agreed.
With Darius’s reputation within Bayern, coupled with his position as Carl’s elder brother, his leadership was formidable.
“…What position would be best for me?”
Yuria, who was in the same party, asked cautiously.
Darius frowned slightly as he considered before answering.
“Hm, for a mage, obviously the safest position is best—between the mid-line and the rear, what’s usually called the heart of the formation. But in real combat, formations often collapse. You’ve probably had more of that kind of experience than I have, Yuria, so you’ll have to use your own judgment.”
Darius was a swordsman.
Of course, he had often raided in parties with mages, so he could give basic advice.
But beyond that was out of his expertise, so outside the standard formation position, he allowed flexibility according to the situation.
“I see. I can probably only teach you response methods. Pozers, come over here too.”
“…Yes, sir!”
Since it was a mage-related topic, Pozers, who had been quietly listening, was also called over.
Resting both hands atop the hilt of the greatsword planted into the ground, Darius looked at the two mages and asked:
“If you were separated from the party and faced a magical beast with agile movements, how would you fight?”
It wasn’t a particularly difficult question.
After a moment’s hesitation, Pozers spoke first.
“…I would prioritize not allowing it to close the distance. I’d use ranged magic to keep it at bay, then chip away at its mobility. I’d hold out until the party could regroup to assist, or predict its movements and intercept.”
“Mm.”
Darius nodded and turned to Yuria.
“And you, Yuria?”
“I’d set traps around me and use myself as bait to kill it in one strike. After that, you never know what could happen, so I’d save as much mana as possible.”
“Mm.”
Darius nodded again.
Pozers had given a textbook answer, whereas Yuria’s was entirely practical.
Because their temperaments, experiences, and accumulated time differed, even though they were both mages, their answers diverged.
“If the magical beast that appears is one you can’t defeat alone, then Pozers’s answer is correct. Gambling with your life in real combat is something you do only in the final moments. The best course, as you said, is to stall for as much time as possible until your comrades arrive. In a party, the mage is the top priority for protection. If the party is functioning normally, once they realize the mage is separated, they’ll come for you quickly. On the other hand…”
Darius turned to Yuria.
“In terms of efficiency, your approach is correct. No matter how fast the beast is, its target is ‘me’—which means it has to close in to attack. If you have a sure means and method to kill it, becoming bait yourself is the most efficient tactic. Veteran mages used to real combat tend to use this. Once you’re used to it, it’s a strategy that never fails.”
“…It never fails?”
Yuria voiced her doubt.
Using oneself as bait to kill an opponent was a perilous gamble.
And yet—calling it a strategy that never fails?
At her words, Darius grinned and replied.
“Mages who failed on the tightrope have already died. There’s no such thing as failure. Only success or death.”
“…”
At that chilling remark, Yuria’s shoulders twitched.
Darius pulled his greatsword from the ground and looked at his juniors.
“In that case, why don’t we see the skills of our junior mages?”
At his signal, other cadets training nearby stepped back.
Thud.
Darius also leaped back to widen the distance, then hunched low to the ground like a beast.
“Try to block me as best you can.”
Rather than explaining a hundred times, experiencing it once was best.
With speed that didn’t suit his build, Darius kicked off the ground and, in an instant, crossed the center of the training ground to rush at them.
“…Ugh!”
Pozers hesitated for a brief moment.
Yuria, in that time, had already gripped her wand and swung it from top to bottom.
Pfft—!
Dozens of Phantom Bullets tore through the air in sharp trajectories.
Darius, who had been closing in in a straight line, suddenly changed direction sharply, kicking off the ground and evading every bullet aimed at him.
‘Quite a bit of power.’
Phantom Bullet was a spell Darius also knew how to use.
Of course, its power was vastly different when unleashed by a real mage.
Judging from the ground bursting apart, she had maximized its lethality.
A small monster would be turned into a beehive in an instant.
As expected of the successor to the Gray Magic Tower, but Darius still bounded forward, closing the distance again.
“Hap!”
When Pozers shouted, raising his staff high, a bright yellow lightning bolt fell from the sky.
To match the opponent’s mobility, he had used a fast-casting spell.
‘Good judgment. But it’s not quite suited for suppression.’
If it hit, it would certainly slow the enemy’s movements, but a single-target spell had low suppressive power.
If it were him, he’d have used a less powerful but wider-area spell instead.
Like setting up a wall of fire, for example.
Craack—!
Even after that, Darius weaved past the barrage of spells, finally reaching the two and swinging his greatsword.
A barrier sprang up instantly to block the blow, but it shattered in a single strike and was rendered useless.
Darius leaned in close and asked,
“You succeeded in baiting me. What comes next?”
“…Kh!”
Pozers quickly swung his staff and began forming hand seals.
But Darius’s finger flick had already landed squarely on his forehead.
Forced to stumble back, Pozers retreated.
Yuria, on the other hand, remained unperturbed.
“You already reacted, Yuria?”
Darius tilted his head slightly, looking at the wavering magic above his head.
If he took just one more step forward, the spell would activate and strike immediately.
Dodging it looked impossible.
“Using Phantom Bullet was good. That’s a spell whose power varies greatly depending on the caster.”
“Is it different in real combat?”
“Most mages tend to look down on Phantom Bullet, saying their own spells are faster. Even though there’s no better basic magic for both suppression and offense, it’s fallen out of use in actual battles.”
“I see.”
Yuria nodded.
She could more or less understand why.
Phantom Bullet carried a strong image of being an easy spell for beginners.
‘A ridiculous notion.’
A simple, convenient, and powerful spell—abandoning it just because of that image?
If you were trapped in such pointless stubbornness, you’d fail to adapt to real combat and die quickly.
Of course, Yuria had no intention of making such a mistake.