“Well, that escalated quickly.”
Before I could even react, White Wolf had leaped onto the shelf and snagged a Magic Stone in no time. Then, he started licking it like it was a candy.
This was quite the surprise.
Crack! Snap!
The sound of muscles and bones twisting echoed as his small frame began to grow bigger, teeth and claws sharpening as if they were being honed.
There was only one thing this transformation could mean.
He’d absorbed magic!
‘So you can absorb it just by licking?’
I thought you had to chew it for it to work. Just as I was staring at White Wolf in amazement, a memory hit me.
Just five minutes ago, I had heard someone say,
「Especially the Magic Stones on the shelf are incredibly expensive, so don’t break them. Got it?」
That was Diplyn’s warning.
Right after recalling that, I glanced over at the Magic Stone White Wolf was licking. It looked mostly fine except for the drool.
“As long as it’s not broken, it should be okay.”
She only said not to break it, not anything about absorbing magic.
So, it shouldn’t matter.
Having made up my mind, I relaxed and watched White Wolf.
How long had it been?
“Yawn…”
I let out a yawn, clear signs of boredom showing on my face.
It made complete sense. I said I’d be back soon, but it had already been twenty minutes. Unable to withstand the ennui, I decided to stretch my legs.
I was thinking of having a casual look around.
But the boredom persisted.
There was nothing in this cabin but unidentifiable potions and materials.
Just as I was about to let out another yawn, something caught my eye.
“A book?”
There lay a thick layer of dust on it.
Specifically, it was a research journal.
The dates inscribed all over the cover gave that away.
Feeling a bit bored, I decided to read it.
I pulled a few volumes of the journals and set them on the desk, shaking off the dust before opening one.
But I couldn’t read it.
“What does this say?”
It wasn’t in the Empire’s language.
Weird, squiggly writing that twisted like worms.
But what was strange was how familiar it felt. Where had I seen it before? Lost in thought, furrowing my brow, I suddenly realized.
“Ah.”
I remembered where I had seen it.
When I was out on the battlefield with my comrades in my past life, I had seen similar writing in dungeons and ruins swarming with Abyssal Monsters.
Of course, that didn’t mean I could actually read it. But lost in nostalgia, I quickly flipped through the pages.
Then, in that moment…
Stop!
My hand froze mid-flip.
Not just my hand.
My arm, shoulder, and body also halted, as if I were a statue. My gaze locked onto the very end of the page.
“This is…”
The only recognizable word surfaced.
A word I had seen so many times in my past life that I had memorized its meaning. It was brief but undeniable.
Translating it gave me the following:
『Lord of the Abyss』
My eyes sharpened.
And rightfully so.
For it had been three full years since the door to the Abyss had opened that the existence known as ‘the Lord’ who led the Abyssal Monsters had been confirmed.
‘But how does he already know?’
The door to the Abyss hasn’t even opened yet!
This sudden puzzling seed of doubt began to sprout suspicion. Just as the sprout was about to grow…
Rumble!
A strong tremor shook the cabin.
As if the whole place would topple. Just as I snapped back to reality…
Thud! Rumble—!
The second tremor hit.
Far more violent than the first. But this time, it wasn’t just a tremor. An intangible force crashed in like waves.
‘Spirit.’
My eyes narrowed.
And it wasn’t your average Spirit.
This was an extreme Spirit that only someone who had stepped into the Master’s Domain could exude. Within it dwelled a strong will and fighting spirit.
There was but one meaning to this.
‘To provoke the opponent.’
The spirit, filled with the will to fight, served as a challenge on the battlefield.
It signaled my presence to the enemy while simultaneously inviting them to take me on if they dared. Having lived half my past life on the battlefield, I understood that well.
“I don’t know who you are, but…”
Looks like someone’s itching for a fight.
I grinned. Then, I grabbed my axe and headed outside the cabin.
I was always up for a challenge. I had never avoided a fight that had come my way.
Plus, curiosity tickled my interest.
At the Arsen Academy, I was the only Master, so where had this Spirit-emitting Master come from?
With a hint of curiosity, I stepped forward.
Towards the source of the provocation.
To the entrance of the Source of Magic.
7.
The gateway to the Source of Magic was guarded by three groups.
The Arsen Guards, Special Operations Division, and the Inspection Unit.
Commonly referred to as the ‘Guardians,’ each had their assigned roles to protect the Source or report any enemy incursions.
As of now, the entrance was tinged with tension.
The reason was simple.
A sudden, unexpected visitor.
‘……Istan El Deorg.’
The Empire’s Master, Count Deorg.
Unexpectedly appearing, he attempted to enter the Source of Magic. The Guardians immediately stopped him and explained that he needed permission from Dean Diplyn to proceed.
In response, the Count replied,
「Then I’ll wait here.」
Until Dean Diplyn arrives.
From that moment on, the Count hadn’t moved an inch. Thus, the entrance was enveloped in taut tension.
How much time had passed?
Finally, help arrived.
“Long time no see, Count Istan.”
A girl emerged from inside the Source.
It was Diplyn Cernio. Upon her arrival, the faces of the Special Operations Division brightened, and Diplyn greeted with her usual smile.
“Should I call you Count now?”
“Call me as you wish. The Dean has that much authority.”
The Count replied politely.
And why not? The Count and Diplyn had known each other since his time as the heir of the house.
They had fought together on the same battlefield and had helped each other out in the past. Therefore, the Count inquired with utmost politeness.
“How have you fared?”
“I’ve been quite comfortable. Unlike the desert, I can freely use water here, which is wonderful.”
“That’s a relief.”
That was the end of their pleasantries.
After a brief silence, the Count spoke again.
“I was actually hoping to see you.”
“Oh? For what reason?”
“To obtain permission from the Dean to enter the Source of Magic.”
The Count dove straight to the point.
This made Diplyn exhale a sigh.
“Sigh, I wish I could grant that request, but I can’t let just anyone in. It’s a dangerous place, and…”
“There’s someone I’m looking for.”
Just as she was about to retort playfully, the Count interrupted her. His eyes glinting, he declared his purpose.
“I don’t know where you heard that, but that might be difficult.”
Diplyn’s expression turned troubled.
“Why is that?”
“He’s currently on a mission.”
“A mission, you say…”
“If you’re not aware, there’s been a missing persons case at the Source of Magic. This investigation is related to that.”
“…Is that so.”
The Count’s gaze darkened.
His icy glare flickered.
“I see now.”
“See what?”
“That the Dean is a collaborator with the military.”
“Well, I can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”
Diplyn smiled cheerfully.
She looked utterly confused.
But the cold glare in her eyes didn’t betray any trace of a smile. Just as a tense atmosphere loomed over them, suddenly the Count let out a brief sigh.
The Count slowly lifted his right leg.
His leg became encased in a faint aura.
This was the symbol of the Master. As Diplyn’s eyes widened in recognition…
“…!”
Boom!
His foot slammed into the ground.
Instantly, a shockwave erupted, sweeping through the nearby area.
Rumble! Bang!
The overflowing force of the Master surged forth like a torrent.
All encompassing with a desire to provoke the hidden Barbarian inside.
Just then, an interruption occurred.
Flash!
A brightly glowing staff. It was Diplyn completing her spell. She aimed to shoot magic to stop the Count.
But it was futile.
“It’s no use.”
In a flash, the Count had grabbed her wrist, disarming her in the blink of an eye.
Diplyn’s eyebrows twitched in disbelief.
“We’re only seven steps away. How could…”
“That was six years ago.”
With a dry explanation, the Count whispered.
“Now it’s grown to nine steps.”
He referred to the Master’s Domain.
It was the range where the blade could reach so quickly that one wouldn’t even perceive the passage of time.
And to prove it,
Thud! Bang!
Special Operations Division agents attempting to stop the Count fell like bundles of hay.
“Don’t worry. I won’t kill them.”
“…”
Diplyn bit her lip.
The Masters exist in a different time frame than regular people.
Just looking at the Domain makes that clear.
Even Diplyn, who had reached the realm of High Mage, couldn’t comprehend or perceive what happened within the domain.
‘If I had been nine steps away…’
She might have gained the upper hand.
Her magic would have fired off quicker than his step.
But within the Domain, defeat was inevitable.
That’s precisely why Masters are regarded as strategic weapons. The only ones who could face a Master were other Masters.
Meanwhile, at that moment,
The Count continued to disperse his aura.
He was probably trying to draw Ulan out. Observing this, Diplyn found herself lightly chuckling inwardly.
‘Still, Ulan won’t come out.’
To be precise, he couldn’t.
Just in case this very situation came up, she had sneaked away with his pants while also grabbing the coat.
No matter how shameless he was, he wouldn’t go parading around naked. At least, that’s what she believed. In the midst of her thoughts, the Count reeled in his aura.
‘Guess he’s finally giving up.’
She thought so.
Until she heard the Count’s words.
“Looks like someone’s finally stepping out.”
What? Stepping out, what?
Just as she wore a dazed expression, a large shadow appeared in the distance.
‘No way…’
With wide eyes, she spotted the hulking figure of a man.
A Barbarian, Ulan, brandishing axes in both hands.
He came forward, completely naked, striding right towards them.
8.
Meanwhile, at that moment.
Having left the cabin, Ulan arrived at the Source’s entrance, puzzled by the bizarre situation laid out before him.
The Special Operations Division members were sprawled on the ground, out cold.
Diplyn, who had said she would be back shortly, was being restrained by a man, who was now glaring in Ulan’s direction.
The moment their eyes met,
Ulan realized that this man was indeed the Master who summoned him here.
Just as he was about to speak, a shout rang out before him.
“What on earth are you doing out here?!”
It was Diplyn, looking thoroughly startled as she stared at Ulan.
“No, more importantly, how did you think it was okay to come outside dressed like that?”
“Is there a problem with it?”
“Of course there is! Look at all these staring eyes! Don’t you feel any shame or embarrassment?”
“I feel liberated.”
Uh-oh, this isn’t going to work.
Diplyn sighed deeply.
“Fine, I don’t care about the reasons anymore, but please, just put on some clothes first.”
“But I have no clothes.”
“They’re right there.”
Diplyn pointed towards the watchtower where Ulan’s pants and shin guards lay discarded.
Seeing this, Ulan tilted his head in confusion.
“Why are my clothes here?”
“I must’ve absentmindedly brought them when I was packing your coat. Now put them on quickly!”
“Understood.”
Ulan hastily pulled up his pants.
A short while later, the Count suddenly posed a question.
“Let me ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“Do you know Himel Deorg?”
“Of course. A trash who knows no honor.”
As soon as that answer escaped Ulan’s lips,
The Count’s brow furrowed deeply. The faces of those present turned pale.
And it made sense.
To say that to the parents rushing from far away to see their injured son was akin to calling their son trash.
Everyone looked at Ulan like he was a lunatic.
“I seem to have introduced myself late.”
The Count spoke again.
His voice now colder than before.
“I am Istan El Deorg. The father of the trash you just referred to.”
“I see. I’m Ulan Bator.”
Bold or clueless, Ulan’s demeanor didn’t shift an inch at the revelation of being the father of Himel. As he remained unfazed, the Count continued.
“I partially agree with you.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Trash who knows no honor.”
The disdainful word tumbled out of the Count’s mouth.
“I lost sight of him while focusing solely on teaching him the sword. In the process, he turned into trash, devoid of honor, spirit, and body.”
“…”
“However, despite being trash, he’s still a descendant of the Deorg house. If I back down now, everyone will mock the Deorg name. That’s bad for my reputation. So…”
“What do you want to say?”
Ulan interrupted with his question.
In that moment, the Count suddenly removed his gloves. Then, he threw them straight at Ulan.
“I challenge you to a duel.”
“Understood. I accept.”
Not a second’s hesitation in his response.
The Count’s eyebrows twitched. He hadn’t expected such an immediate acceptance of the challenge.
At that moment, Ulan revealed his reasoning.
“I’ve never avoided a fight that came my way.”
A Warrior’s mindset at its finest.
The Count grasped his sword with a peculiar expression.
Regardless of the reason, since the opponent had accepted the duel, he was ready to proceed.
But at that moment.
“Stop, Ulan!”
Diplyn intervened.
She squeezed between Ulan and the Count, her serious tone warning him,
“Dueling without permission is forbidden at the Academy. If you fight Count Istan, you’ll be violating the rules!”
“But I can’t let that stop me.”
“What did you just say?”
As she retorted in shock,
Ulan turned to the Count again.
“I knew it the moment I saw you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?!”
“His eyes.”
Dry as the desert sand,
those eyes fixated as if obsessed with something.
Ulan spoke softly.
“Those are the eyes of someone insane for a fight.”
Just like he had been in his past life.
And as soon as that answer left his lips,
The Count grinned widely. It was the first smile he’d shown since arriving at the Academy.
“You’re spot on, Barbarian.”
At that moment, the Count’s sword was drawn.
No more words were necessary; the duel had been established. The Count immediately stomped the ground. But just then.
“No, I can’t allow this duel!”
A shout seized his feet.
A familiar voice.
It was Berge Erkazhan, the head of the Military Department. Having appeared, he was frowning furiously as he yelled.
“I can never accept a duel for revenge! That’s a serious violation of the Academy’s code!”
He was doing everything he could to halt the duel.
But the Count had no intention of stopping.
In fact, he was determined to ignore it, ready to swing his sword at that very moment.
Bang!
A loud noise interrupted before he could unleash it.
As if to separate the two, someone charged in.
The Count grimaced at this new arrival. But that expression momentarily vanished as soon as he recognized who it was.
Blue hair resembling the vast ocean.
A man who appeared to be in his late forties.
The Count muttered in disbelief.
“…Seoric?”
“Long time no see, Count Istan.”
A welcoming smile appeared on his wrinkled lips.
Seoric Al Gorphant, one of the heroes who ended the war in the west six years ago and now called the Empire’s Master, stood before them.
And he was none other than the insurance Berge had kept hidden.
Chapter 18: The Decision Isn’t Yours
![[TS] The End of Magical Girls Has Come](https://i3.wp.com/darkmtl.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/1737407792-8993-TS-The-end-of-magical-girls-has-come.png?resize=85,105 "[TS] The End of Magical Girls Has Come")
