Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Chapter 52

A trio of rings began to revolve around Leonard’s chest, causing Dale to hold his breath as he contemplated the crimson energy emanating with force.

It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a torrent of reddish power that far exceeded the ordinary capabilities of a third-circle sorcerer. The only logical explanation was that he possessed an aptitude as outstanding as Dale’s own.

“Overclock…”

It was a mystic who forced the rotation of his ring beyond what was permitted, a suicidal move of life or death. Added to this was the ruby-studded bracelet Leonard wore on his wrist. Although its exact function was a mystery, it was clear that Leonard Walter was unable to master its influence.

“That mystical object has lost control and is disturbing his mind.”

There was no doubt that the relic was directly influencing Leonard’s erratic behavior.

Dale clicked his tongue and accelerated the movement of the ring on his own chest. A whirlwind of bluish, dark energy emerged beneath his feet, eclipsing Leonard’s crimson glow, which had been pushed to the extreme by the overclocking.

“How is this possible…?”

Both teachers and students witnessing the scene were stupefied.

For any practitioner of the mystical arts, estimating a ring’s revolutions by analyzing the volume of evoked power is a simple task.

Doubts about whether the firstborn of the Sachsen lineage truly belonged to the third circle, whether he had achieved it through relentless discipline, or whether the speed of his ring exceeded 100 revolutions, were buried by Dale’s astonishing display.

The average rotation for a common mystic is around 300 revolutions.

For those endowed with a special gift, like Leonard, the number can approach 1000 revolutions. And even under the effects of overclocking, it is extremely rare for them to exceed 2000 revolutions.

However, Dale’s first ring was operating at 3000 revolutions, unleashing a gigantic flow of energy that danced around him. It was a power of bluish and shadowy hues, combining properties of the purest darkness and cold.

In that instant, all the spectators understood it clearly.

The stories circulating about Dale, the younger scion of the Sachsen lineage, fell short of the reality.

“How can this happen…?”

Leonard grimaced in bitterness while he continued to force his ring’s pace. Before him, a colossal obstacle materialized, impossible to overcome no matter how hard he tried.

“Give this up and remove the mystical object,” Dale recommended.

“If you insist on continuing, you will cross a point of no return.”

The way Dale watched him, as if he were above him, was intolerable.

“I have nothing left to lose!”

Leonard Walter, the proud descendant of the Empire’s royal sorcerer nicknamed “Bloodfire Walter,” enjoyed the fame of being the nation’s most virtuous youth in the mystical arts.

“What a bright future awaits you in the mystical arts!”

Even the famous Marquess Eurys had lavished praise upon him. The leader of the Red Tower himself held enormous expectations regarding his conditions! That recognition constituted Leonard’s pride and identity.

The Red Tower based its hierarchy on the law of the strongest, and Leonard possessed that dominance. For that reason, he stood as the institution’s main figure and was assured a place of honor among the high spheres of the Red Tower.

—Or at least, that was the charted destiny.

Existence is often capricious and unfair, and Leonard had always benefited from that order of things.

Until the arrival of the younger scion of the Sachsen lineage.

The very personification of the inconceivable.

“Don’t mock me!”

Leonard redirected the remnant energy produced by the overclocking toward his wristband. The relic inherited from Bloodfire Walter, known as the “Chains of Hell.”

“No one in this Empire possesses an intellect superior to mine!”

Immersed in a whirlwind of fury and frustration, Leonard roared. The accessory flashed, and the reddish energy surrounding him began to structure itself into a spell.

The fiery links began to lash about like whips of pure fire.

Those burning bindings made him feel as if his chest would burst due to the high temperatures, but Leonard did not care at all. He trusted in his gift and in his ability to subdue the artifact. He would not bite the dust in this place. Reaffirming his conviction, he launched the attack of flaming links.

However, those whips of fire vanished immediately, extinguished without the slightest complication by the bluish, shadowy flow emanating from Dale’s feet.

“A dominator of the fire element should not allow his flame to be extinguished so easily.”

“…!”

Dale showed a slight smile, downplaying the matter.

He had simply frozen the activity of the particles in the surrounding space, nullifying the variables that allowed for the existence of fire.

Even so, for a specialist of the blue element, stifling the fire of a red mystic of that level was not an ordinary task. Only someone with the understanding of “the supernatural” that Dale possessed could achieve it.

Ultimately, temperature is only the reflection of the internal agitation of matter.

“What audacity you have!”

An experienced fighter of the red element would never have allowed such an outcome. Even without possessing Dale’s theoretical concepts, he would have striven to maintain the thermal energy essential to protect his magic.

But Leonard was not a consecrated member of the Red Tower, nor did he belong to the Purifiers.

He was simply an arrogant boy, whose ego was fed by superficial flattery in a controlled environment.

Added to this, mystics do not usually focus their preparation on real combat. Mystical study and training for war are very different disciplines.

From that perspective, Leonard lacked the experience to face Dale.

“You can still stop.”

For that reason, Dale insisted.

“Desist and let go of that relic.”

Although deep down he knew that Leonard would not heed his warnings.

“You are experiencing great torment, aren’t you?”

Even at this moment, with the overclocking at its limit, Leonard’s chest must have been suffering an insufferable torture. It was evident that his strength was about to be exhausted.

“Ugh…!”

Just as Dale supposed, Leonard’s chest contracted due to a lacerating pain, as if an internal conflagration were about to consume his organs.

The only flaw in Dale’s projections was underestimating Leonard’s pride, which would not yield as easily as he supposed.

The dogmas of the Red Tower dictated that power dictates order. To them, showing weakness meant the absolute nullity of their own being.

Completely out of control, the ring escaped Leonard’s dominion, and the torrent of runaway energy extinguished his lucidity.

For a brief instant, time seemed to freeze.

“…!”

Upon observing the surroundings, Leonard recognized the site.

Every practitioner possesses a mental plane forged by their own reflections.

This was Leonard’s internal space.

A sanctuary of understanding. The core of his thoughts.

“Haha…”

Under these circumstances, that represented a single truth. Therefore, Leonard let out a laugh. He brought his hand to his chest, sensing the presence of a fourth circular structure around his heart.

The fourth structure of energy. The confirmation of the fourth circle.

“I reached it, I truly achieved it!”

Within his mental plane, Leonard could not contain his joy. At barely twenty years of age, he had accessed the fourth circle! If this didn’t solidify him as the nation’s greatest prodigy, nothing else would. He thought this while laughing uncontrollably.

Just at that moment, it happened.

Zap!

Leonard’s mental space was devoured by flames.

A colossal fire, resembling the apocalypse, began to destroy his entire internal plane.

“……!”

Dale exhaled in surprise at the unexpected development of the situation.

Leonard Walter’s body was engulfed in fire, even as the fourth energy structure consolidated in his chest.

This scenario exceeded Dale’s projections.

When Dale accessed the third circle, he did so by breaking down the barrier with absolute determination. However, Leonard did not possess the necessary firmness for such a feat.

Consequently, the desperate attempt to force the fourth circle caused the collapse and loss of control of his mental plane.

By irony of fate, Leonard’s own aptitudes led to this fatal outcome.

Mystical arts consist of projecting thoughts onto the real plane; when that process is corrupted, the result is inevitable.

“The manifestation of the mental plane in the physical world.”

The surrounding space began to deform, intertwining with Leonard’s internal plane.

Everything transformed into a flaming stage, trapping them within a kind of dimension isolated from reality. Even the students and teachers of the advanced section of the third circle were confined inside.

“This represents a real problem.”

Dale lamented the situation in silence as he observed the surroundings.

“However, the outcome will not change.”

He directed a glance toward the “Cloak of Shadows,” which he wore camouflaged as a dark garment. The person directly responsible for the incident was Leonard, so his intervention was limited to legitimate defense.

It was then that it happened.

“I must show that insolent one.”

“That I, Leonard Walter, am the brightest specimen of this Empire.”

In a similar way to how Dale had previously communicated with the world through Sepia, Leonard’s thoughts and runaway resentment were transmitted to Dale’s mind.

An impassable wall stood before Dale, and a heavy dose of hopelessness began to overwhelm his spirit. It was the imposing presence of the “Black Prince,” perceived from Leonard Walter’s perspective.

It was the same despondency that Dale’s rivals felt when measuring their strength against him. For the first time, Dale experienced that sensation from the victim’s stance. He bit his lips trying to contain the agitation that threatened to destabilize him, just as it had happened to Sepia previously.

A gigantic and monumental barrier obstructed his path. It was the first time he understood to perfection the torment of facing the obstacle that he himself represented for others.

The same circumstances that he had once dismissed with indifference turned against him, wounding him deeply.

Despite all of that…

“Is this really all he can offer?”

Facing that immense wall of desolation, Dale let out a laugh loaded with disdain and coldness.

“The renowned ‘Black Prince’ turns out not to be as formidable as they claimed.”

He evoked the powerful rivals he executed in his previous existence: aberrations that defied the understanding of the most capable. In his role as the Empire’s executioner, he hunted down multiple threats of that nature.

Having contemplated the depth of those aberrant planes, Dale would not be intimidated by simple reflections of power.

He contemplated the burning silhouette of Leonard Walter and the chaos surrounding him.

Nothing was going to change. After processing the scenario, he stated with total detachment, absolving himself of the matter.

“What relevance does this have for me?”