Chapter 86

Pure white horns, cyan-colored skin, cloak-like drooping wings and disproportionately large hands for the size of the body.

Grand Marshal Michael appeared at the farthest rear of the battlefield, where Bel and Gridia stood on a hill.

‘…Since when?’

The method with which Michael had grabbed Bel and Gridia from behind was utterly simple.

While Grand Marshal Maltiel was raising hell aiming for the boy named Bin’s neck, Michael dug a tunnel underneath the ground.

Though absurdly simple, none, including Bel and Gridia, had realized this.

All attention was focused on protecting the boy with white hair at the moment he was under attack.

Naturally, it was only natural. The swordsman who had slain the Grand Marshal within 90 seconds of being on the battlefield, and the boy, who was evaluated to grow into a monster of the same level as the Sword Saint, was someone whose life was worth protecting at all costs.

“Wrap us in light, and banish the darkness…”

Gridia belatedly started reciting a prayer. A faint light wrapped around the two bodies, but Michael’s gathered light had already expanded to an alarming size.

“Now, this is completely unknown territory ahead.”

A perfectly set-up plan had collapsed and the trap had a hole in it.

‘…No spell incantation, no recital of the magic’s name. Focused on activation time rather than its power.’

Time felt slow for Bel.

‘…Even with the magic name and incantation skipped, this is a Grand Marshal’s magic, especially Michael’s. If I take this head-on with no protection, there’s no doubt I’ll die instantly.’

In the split-second of time, thoughts raced faster.

‘Damn it, the distance is too close. No matter how fast I move, escaping the range is impossible.’

He calculated the possibility of escape.

‘Will Gridia’s prayer finish in time? It doesn’t look like she’s even halfway through…’

He assessed Gridia’s chances.

The brain of Bell, a ninth-tier mage and practically the strategist of the allied forces, was burning through mental energy like crazy.

Even with death looming right in front of him, Bell’s mind didn’t freeze. It tirelessly searched for the best possible move.

‘The best move would be for Gridia to finish the prayer and successfully deploy the protective barrier before this explosion reaches us, wouldn’t it?’

But the probability of that happening was painfully low in Bell’s judgment.

The miracles used by the clerics are fundamentally different from the magic used by mages.

While mages may omit incantations and even the names of spells at the cost of power, the clerics must recite the prayers till the end, no matter what.

‘…In the worst case, I get caught up in this explosion and die right here.’

Mage Bel didn’t value his life much. Having sacrificed countless lives for the greater good, he knew his own life could be thrown away at any moment for the same cause.

Thus, judging the worst-case scenario as “his death” wasn’t an emotional decision—it wasn’t as if he had any great attachment to life.

‘If I die, a previously unheard-of great catastrophe will occur.’

Currently, the magical barrier surrounding Valleland by Bell’s hands was a magic that manipulated the concept of ‘space’ to the mage’s liking.

The edge of the boundary, the space connecting the inside and outside, is briefly cut off, making it impossible for any object to enter or leave.

This was very different from the usual barriers that “build walls.” Without the ability to manipulate the concept of space, no being would be able to exit Valleland.

This seemingly invincible magic had three big drawbacks not immediately visible.

One, the magician had to plant scrolls infused with magic power at the key points of the boundary for a long period.

This defect/condition forced Bell to undertake perilous missions, risking his life to infiltrate enemy lines and hide scrolls.

Two, the complexity and difficulty of constructing and maintaining the barrier were very high.

Bel’s brain cells were being consumed continuously just from maintaining it. If Gridia standing next to him hadn’t continuously restored him, the barrier would have collapsed in less than thirty seconds.

And the last one… Every procedure in forming this magic was incredibly complex and cumbersome.

Most barriers don’t demand much effort to maintain or deactivate after being set up.

However, the barrier surrounding Valleland was a high-level magic that deviated from such simple structures.

When dismantling the barrier, exact procedures and legitimate mathematical operations had to be followed.

Because one had to reattach the space that had been severed back to its original position.

“…Damn it.”

While magic, to laymen, appears endlessly convenient and simple, it is, in truth, a highly logical and rational discipline.

For every big advantage, there is an equally substantial disadvantage.

The barrier Bell had set up around Valleland boasted near-invincible strength but required a painstakingly complex process.

What if the magician maintaining the severed space dies without reattaching it back?

‘A great catastrophe will occur.’

Inside the barrier, the front and back, up and down will twist, and in the worst case, all personnel inside might be unable to escape for the rest of their lives.

Of course, Maltiel and Michael could not possibly know such intricate details.

They merely used reasonable assumptions—”Such an overwhelmingly powerful barrier must bear corresponding risks”—and predictions—”Bel Artura wouldn’t endanger the Sword Saint and the boy”—to choose the most probable strategy.

‘There are not only Sword Saints inside but also Bin. They must not get involved.’

Their prediction hit the mark beautifully.

‘My death doesn’t matter. There are plenty of people who can take my place. But not those two.’

Bell gave up on countering Michael’s attack, focusing all his consciousness on reconnecting the severed space.

There was no room to even think about deploying a shield.

His mental power lacked the capacity to spare for that. The brain could only handle a fixed amount of computational load, and his was already struggling to maintain the space magic.

At any cost, he needed to dismantle the barrier safely.

Even as the explosive created by the Grand Marshal approached, Bell’s mind was solely occupied with that thought.

Soon, the dark sphere before Bell enveloped his body.

*

Light.

One thing I’ve learned since arriving in this world is that explosions always start with an immense amount of light.

The color of the light isn’t crucial. It could be red, purple, or blue.

Various hues of light always bring with them tremendous winds. The temperatures of these winds vary greatly. Some are so hot they can melt not only skin but even steel on contact, while others feel suffocating like the hot desert wind without being fatal.

The wind brushing against my skin now feels closer to the latter. My face and hands sustained slight burns due to its weak nature, but it wasn’t enough to make me lose consciousness.

The explosion created by the demon was so small and weak that it was hard to believe it came from a grand marshal.

It was so hastily conjured that the leakage of magic power was immense, and the clump of energy in his hand did not appear very pure.

A spell so weak that even the orc Rex standing next to me could endure it without trouble.

That was the extent of its power.

‘Rudimentary.’

The moment the spell detonated, that was the only thought that filled my mind.

However, even this crude spell was sufficient.

The magical power possessed by Michael, a demon, was on par with that of a ninth-tier mage. Though the spell’s operations might have been rushed, the quality and quantity of the magic power stored in him ensured a minimal amount of force.

A spell powerful enough to easily kill one or two ordinary people.

The level of magic Michael was aiming for must’ve been just about that.

Controlling the level and speed of spell-casting depending on the place, time, and situation.

This adept manipulation of magic was something only those who have mastered the highest levels of magic could accomplish…

“General!”

And this was also a brilliant counter-move capable of instantly reversing the tide of the battlefield.

Pak!

A sound akin to something crumbling on the mud floor, which had been baked hard by fire, could be heard. Initially, I thought that the explosion had damaged the ground, but there were no signs of fractured earth when I turned my gaze toward the source of the sound.

Zik!

This time, a sound like something being torn could be heard.

It was coming from behind my neck. Again, when I turned my head toward the source of the sound, all I saw were a few infantrymen rushing toward the direction where the explosion had taken place. Nothing appeared to be torn.

“Huh! This is ridiculous…”

Maintaining a distance from me and Rex, Maltiel, who was observing the situation, glanced around as if finding it amusing.

Gugduk…!

This time, a sound, as if someone was squeezing a piece of fabric, could be heard. The sound came from the vast space where the large wings of Maltiel were unfurled.

Before long, strange phenomena, which my mind couldn’t comprehend at all, began to unfold across the battlefield in quick succession.

…It was as if we were being sucked into a whirlpool, and the space began to twist.

The motions of the soldiers rushing toward the explosion gradually slowed down and then froze like statues. It was like pressing the ‘slow-motion’ and then ‘pause’ buttons on a video.

The gust that had been flying suddenly turned into a cold breeze, and I could see frost settling on various parts of my robe.

Looking around, some soldiers were instantly aged with wrinkles appearing on their eyes and hands, their muscles and flesh disappearing. The soldiers, who were transformed into the withered appearance of an old man who had not eaten anything for decades, met each other’s faces and were gripped by fear.

‘…Spatial magic.’

I could easily identify the cause of these abnormal phenomena.

‘That madman Bel.’

Spatial magic is something almost forbidden to study in all schools of sorcery.

The danger of the mage making a mistake during the mathematical operations is too great, and the complexity of these operations is incomparably higher than any other magic.

It’s akin to a circus trick—akin to an elephant walking on a millimeter-wide ice sheet—or should we say, a miracle for it to succeed.

“General, what the hell is…!”

The magician who could carry out this impossible feat was caught in an insignificant and crude explosion created by the Grand Marshal.

It’s like a tsunami suddenly hit a semiconductor factory while precision work was underway.

The space continued to twist, break, and tear. The gaps in the vacuum kept rising towards the sky and sinking into the ground repeatedly. The oxygen coming into my lungs through my breath barely entered and was expelled back out through my nose before it could supply my body.

“…Damn.”

There was no way to intervene as there was no knowledge in my mind regarding spatial magic.

It was hard to have enough time to study books related to electric magic alone; there’s no way I could have found time to research forbidden magic.

‘Rather, death would be much better; at least I could rest peacefully then.’

Meaningless thoughts flickered through my mind.

Hooon!

At the same time, a wonderfully refreshing and cool breeze passed over my cheek as if unaware of the situation. Completely naturally.

…Wait.

Did the wind pass by naturally? Exactly where did it come from…

“General!”

A loud shout reverberated through the battlefield. This voice belonged to a soldier standing frozen like a statue just a moment ago. That soldier seemed completely unaware that the time and space around them had just been distorted.

He ran straight in the direction the wind blew.

Gale.

The chilling cold wind, which had been freezing everything with the force of an icy wind, had suddenly reverted to normal warmth.

The distorted laws of physics returned to their original place. Time began circulating again, and vitality returned to my mind, feeling the ordeal was finally over.

The soldiers who had drastically aged returned to their normal bodies, and the spaces that had been torn and flying around wildly settled back to their original places silently.

“Phew…”

The refreshing breeze that passed by me dispelled the pitch-black haze covering the hill.

Then, Bel and Gridia came into view.

“That was close, huh?”

“…Bel?”

Bel was cradled in Gridia’s arms.

He appeared to have lost his left leg and right arm and suffered significant burns all over his body.

…It seemed that the hasty protective barrier Gridia deployed was a split-second too late.

The two were wrapped in a light yellow protective barrier, but the explosion had already overwhelmed Bel’s body.

“Ah! Ahh… Aaaagh…”

Gridia’s scream echoed inside the barrier.

The sky, oblivious to all, shone brightly.