330 – Division -3-

A fierce wind blows.

A chill gust emanates from Balak’s great sword. He could feel it. The blade was honed sharper than during their first encounter.

Yuria and Mikhail swallowed the saliva pooling at their lips, watching Balak’s retreating figure as he strode toward the battlefield.

“Move, young ones.”

“…”

“Keep the mistakes of the past locked in your hearts and press on.”

Balak lightly stepped forward toward the fray. In his wake, dark stains of blood began to trail behind him.

-Why are you…!

A path of destruction.

It was, quite literally, a path of devastation.

*

“…Ruin.”

A small voice echoed in Ruin’s ear as he ran, lost in thought.

“…damn it.”

In a space filled with white vapor, the softly resonating voice made Ruin flinch, halting his frantic pace and slowly turning to look back.

I sensed a foreboding chill as I tried to deal with the lackeys, feeling the presence of someone calling my name—this would not be an easy foe.

“Looks like it’s done.”

Luin spat a curse and let the backpack he had been carrying drop to the ground.

“Who are you?”

“Oh dear, have you forgotten my voice?”

“I don’t know.”

“How upsetting.”

“Shut up.”

“Hmm~ Yes. Let’s save the pleasantries for later.”

From beyond the steam, a woman’s voice emerged, heavy with an ominous weight, cold as ice.

“Where are you rushing off to?”

A shiver ran down my spine.

The emotion woven into her sultry voice was laced with murderous intent.

“I need to consult with the teacher.”

From the clue in my reference to her as ‘teacher,’ Luin deduced her identity and ground his teeth, speaking in a low voice.

“Professor Shulia.”

“…Oh, you remember me.”

“Why has the runaway come here?”

“Runaway? I merely stepped away for a moment because the Tower Master was causing a ruckus.”

“…What nonsense.”

“Heh heh heh…”

Luin clenched his fists, pondering.

The Archbishop of Insults.

Could he truly defeat her? She was a formidable opponent who had escaped the Tower Master’s pursuit. At the same time, he felt a deep-seated fear, for he had never matched well with ‘Riven Shulia,’ the professor of mental magic at the academy. His own mental fortitude was already weak; he feared this battle might drive him mad.

“…”

“Why so quiet?”

“…”

“Did you get caught while trying to run away?”

“Shut it. You senile hag.”

“Your manners towards the teacher leave much to be desired.”

Luin clenched his fists tightly, lifting his chin defiantly at Shulia’s nonchalant reaction.

“Come in. Unless you wish to die.”

He could not bend.

He had just managed to piece together the shattered remnants of his heart; he could not allow it to break again.

“…”

Shulia approached slowly, hands clasped behind her back, toward the frightened Luin. As her figure emerged through the mist, Luin, with fists clenched, struck his chest with a thud, shaking off the tension.

“Haah…”

“What’s wrong? You know it well. Right now, you are nothing but a worthless piece of trash.”

“…”

“Stripped of your talent by a friend, unable to wield magic properly.”

“…”

“What can a fool who can’t even perform the most basic of spells possibly do?”

“…”

“Why do you struggle so hard, you talentless idiot? Wouldn’t it be better to just accept it comfortably?”

As Shulia’s sweetly venomous words echoed, Luin squeezed his eyes shut. Her words were deftly cooking his heart, twisting it in ways he could hardly bear. They were words he longed to slap back, yet they dripped with a magic that made them sound like comfort.

“Give up.”

“…”

“If you give up, it will be easier for you too.”

Luin’s head began to droop gradually. Watching his will fall toward the ground, a smile blossomed on Shulia’s lips.

– Thud.

As Luin walked, drained of strength, Shulia stifled a laugh, covering her mouth and shaking her shoulders.

“Yes… you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

“…”

“Struggling and being dismissed.”

“…”

“Yes, come to the teacher.”

“…”

“The teacher can make it easier for you.”

In that moment, as Luin sought to lean into Shulia’s embrace—

“Haah… damn it.”

A small voice slipped from Ruin’s lips. A strong voice, infused with the sharp pride of Ruin.

“What…”

“Stop your nonsense, lady.”

Shulia looked down on Ruin.

Or perhaps she thought lightly of this war. In her mind, the concept of strength was something that only a top-tier could embody.

Last time at the academy, she had been forced to flee, overwhelmed by a top-tier, but conversely, if there had been no top-tier, it would have been an opportunity to wipe them all out.

Now, in Shulia’s eyes, the people standing on this battlefield were mere insects. Insects that would burst if stepped on, so she felt no tension. To put it bluntly, she was looking down on them.

But.

-Thud.

Ruin was not someone to be trifled with.

As Ruin’s lips drew closer, they began to twitch. He softly murmured the incantation, one that any seasoned mage would know.

A basic spell that every mage should be familiar with.

“Fireball.”

The moment the short incantation slipped from Ruin’s mouth, Shulia’s eyes widened, and she pulled the threads of magic long and taut. In contrast, Ruin fiercely embraced Shulia’s waist, gritting his teeth.

“That bastard and this bastard!! Damn it! Talking like that.”

“…You must have been under a mind-control spell…!”

“Would I be seduced by a filthy, ugly woman?”

“You bastard…!”

Ruin smiled, enduring the threads of magical power digging into his skin.

“I’m not running away anymore.”

“…”

“I swear I won’t run away.”

“…”

“If I take even one with me…!”

-Boom!

The moment the maximized fireball erupted from his abdomen, Shulia furrowed her brow. Even if Ruin had lost his talent for fire, the magical prowess he possessed was undeniable.

In exchange for sacrificing accuracy,

He amplified the power.

That was the strongest weapon Ruin could showcase right now, in this very moment.

Ruin shouted, enduring the searing pain that pierced his skin.

“Fireball!!!!”

“Ahhh!!! Let go!”

“Why? Why not just cut that magic thread?”

“Let go!!!”

“Can’t control your strength, can you? If you slice my body, yours will be severed too.”

Shulia stammered, her voice trembling in the face of Ruin’s magic.

“Seems like you’ve got some brains…! But with that shabby magic, you can’t kill me…!”

“…I know!”

“You know…?!”

Ruin let out a derisive laugh, his voice soaked in madness.

“Who cares if I can’t kill you? I can just make you a cripple.”

“Stop pretending to be strong. You won’t be able to hold on like that…!”

“Damn it. Still, I can manage one serving!!!”

Ruin gathered all his strength and shouted.

“Fireball!!!!”

“You crazy bastard…!”

Shulia shoved Ruin hard, creating distance between them. Then, she burst into laughter at the sight of Ruin’s pitiful state.

-Drip… Drip…

With his hands bloodied from the backlash of close-range magic, Ruin dropped his trembling hands to the ground, gasping for breath.

The wound from the magic thread cut through his clothes, stealing away his warmth, and his eyes were gradually losing their focus.

Shulia laughed uproariously, scolding Ruin as she shouted, “Even being stupid has its limits!”

“…”

“You acted all tough, but what now? Your clever tricks must have run dry by now.”

“….”

“I was going to spare you because I liked your face. But now you’re hastening your own demise.”

“…Shut up.”

Ruin let out a bitter laugh as he gathered his magic once more.

“Don’t preach to me, I know. It’s a damn mess.”

I know.

I know that I’m of no help and useless right now. But if I run away again, avoiding those who are fighting so hard, it would be better to fight disgracefully and lose than to endure the misery of being left alone. Ruin clenched his teeth and raised his fist.

“If it comes to it, I’ll ask for help.”

“Do you really think someone will come to help you? Everyone’s too busy running away.”

“Heh heh heh… damn god.”

“Are you planning to pray to the gods?”

Luin spat a hollow smile and stretched his finger toward the sky.

“You know.”

Shulia furrowed her brow as she gazed upward.

“What could possibly be up there…!”

“Just wait. It will show itself.”

Luin acknowledged it.

How vast the difference was between him and that guy. Still, isn’t it a kind of freedom to at least try to follow along rather than doing nothing and giving up?

At the very least, that guy is—

– Kuuuuuuuuuuu

From the taut bowstring, a brilliant light began to unfurl. An alien and explosive volley of arrows, it was.

If an arrow released from an elf’s hand were to strike true, the shock might be unbearable. Such a violent energy was contained within that bow, imbued with colossal magic.

As the air warped around the arrow’s flight, as if it might tear apart half the earth, Malick squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled softly.

“If I had known, I would have made the Model 2 ferry.”

A life filled with regrets.

The elf’s fingers released the bowstring, the arrow loosed with an urgency that allowed no time for a final word.

After all, those so-called noble races had no concept of lineage or legacy. Malick assessed the elf in real-time as he drew his sword.

“Come.”

And the moment the arrow met Malick’s blade, a familiar voice whispered in his ear, as if he were witnessing a fleeting vision.

-Phasss…

“Are you scared?”

With a crimson flash, countless bolts of lightning began to rain down upon the elf’s head.

Only then did Malick let out a hollow laugh.

“I thought I was done for.”

“…Oh, it takes more than that to kill me.”

“…”

“Perhaps…?”

Truly, he was a heartless creature.