The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 49: The Magic Competition (3)

Chapter 49: The Magic Competition (3)

"Did you see that? Lightning struck out of the blue yesterday."

"Of course, I saw that. But that's not all, you know. The day before yesterday, a huge fire broke out in the forest in the east."

The inn’s pub buzzed with conversation as people gathered.

"But when the sorcerers went to put out the fire, there wasn't even a spark left, let alone a whole fire."

"What in the world is happening...?"

The topic of their discussion revolved around a singular issue.

"Well... according to the investigation conducted by the Magic Council..."

For several days, Azor had been abuzz with strange rumors. From lightning strikes out of clear skies, to entire areas freezing over while others caught fire, and the occasional tremors reminiscent of earthquakes.

Fasio, the lord of Azor, sought help from the city's resident sorcerers, who were affiliated with the Magic Council, to determine the cause. However, the sorcerers from both the Dawn Council and the Immortal Council found nothing but faint traces of mana at the scenes of these incidents.

"With the extent of the damage, it must be at least 4th class magic."

"What nonsense! The residual mana was at best slightly above 1st class. If it were 4th class or higher, the mana concentration would be much higher."

"Could it be a natural disaster?" The lord's subordinate asked the sorcerers, but they both shook their heads.

"Unless it was artificially created, there should be no trace of mana."

"This power, someone must have purposely erased the traces of mana."

"That's ridiculous. To erase traces, you'd need to be at least 6th class. Why would a high-level sorcerer do such a thing?" Opinions were divided.

"Aren't all high-level sorcerers under the jurisdiction of the Magic Council anyway? We haven't heard of any high-level sorcerers in Azor at the moment. Is the Dawn Council not managing them properly?"

The sorcerers, who had come to investigate the incident, somehow ended up in a dispute over pride, only exacerbating the discord between the two magic societies.

"Your brain must have turned to mush to believe that magic of 1st class could cause such destruction."

"...What did you say?" The sorcerers glared at each other, their eyes ablaze with anger.

Though they had gathered for the competition to showcase their abilities, at the end of the day, they were rivals. A need to dominate the narrative was prevalent.

"Then how do you explain this?!"

"And you! Provide some believable evidence!"

Instead of focusing on investigating the incident, they spent their time undermining each other's opinions.

"Sigh..." The city official let out a deep sigh, watching their exchange.

In the end, they all reluctantly arrived at the same conclusion suggested by the official from the start—a natural disaster.

Hmm, I thought I was being cautious, but... well, it's a relief. That's just how those magic council folks are, after all. Karyl nodded inwardly, overhearing the conversations around him.

Indeed it was deemed a natural disaster. The conclusion drawn by those who studied magic and proclaimed themselves the wisest on the continent was simply that.

Anything beyond their understanding is simply labeled a disaster, both then and now.

The descent of Oracles and upcoming wars. Ultimately, the sorcerers, who called themselves sages, dismissed all such incidents as beyond human control.

What a convenient way to shift responsibility. Karyl smirked.

"Hey, how's it going? Do you feel ready? Here's the guild's emblem. It would be great if you could wear it during the competition," a voice in front of him interrupted. Karyl slowly lifted his head.

Bargo Sira grinned, seeing Karyl as a stroke of luck, anticipation filling his eyes.

What an opportunist, Karyl thought. He smirked back at Bargo, accepting the emblem offered to him.

"Ugh, I'm starting to lose interest in going out there. The finals are pretty much decided already anyway."

"What can we even do? Those Magic Council guys always submit their participation on the last day. We freelance sorcerers just have to hope that we avoid them."

"Let's take it easy, everyone. The point is to catch the eye of the scouts from the Magic Council, right?" a man in a robe spoke up.

“You too? Which one are you thinking of joining?"

"If one thinks about joining a Magic Council, it has to be the Dawn Council. They have the most branches across the continent. My master was also part of one of the branches of the Dawn Council."

"What the hell are you talking about? If we are talking about Magic Councils, the Immortal Council is the best. Can the Ivory Tower even compare to the vast collection of grimoires in the Antihum Library? A true sorcerer must pursue magic."

"So what? Learning curse magic won't enrich humanity."

The conversation started off pleasant but quickly turned into a heated debate, as if they were already members of those magic societies, raising their voices in the process.

"..." Karyl sighed quietly as he watched.

Sorcerers are all the same. I can't help but think of him when I see stuff like this... Memories of a familiar face flooded his mind.

After the descent of the Oracles, Karyl had formed his own unique unit for the war, handpicked by himself. Ten individuals whom he could trust with his life, both in the past and now. However, Mikhail was different. It was only by chance that Narh Di Maug discovered his talent and mentioned it to Karyl.

At the time, it was uncertain how much he would grow. But judging by the results of the competition so far, Mikhail was certainly holding his own.

Someday, I'll meet them again. Karyl smiled bitterly. For the emperor, for the continent, for humanity, they fought, only to be left with nothing but death in the end. But this time will be different.

Karyl cast a cold gaze at the sorcerers arguing among themselves, a silent determination brewing within him.

[We will now begin the Expert competition!! A word from Senior sorcerer Sir Tapio of the Dawn Council, the organizer of this event.]

As the door to the waiting room swung open, the announcer's voice was drowned out by the thunderous cheers from the audience.

[Since the inception of the Council of Seven Elders, Azor has seen the birth of numerous sorcerers.] The voice of an old sorcerer echoed through the arena via the loudspeaker. [250 years ago, Kaye Aesir, hailed as the strongest sorcerer, also emerged as a victor of the Azor competition.]

[And even today, the challengers gathered here have the opportunity to etch their names in the annals of history and claim the title of a Great Sorcerer. Let every participant showcase their skills to the fullest.]

The arena crackled with excitement. But behind the enthusiasm in the audience's eyes was a kind of madness. Karyl knew all too well what that look signified. It mirrored the gaze of the audience in Tatur's arena, the people who saw them as mere objects of entertainment.

This is pathetic. How is it any different from Tatur? Despite their pretentious facades, the people of Azor are no different.

His gaze shifted towards the stage. The prize for the winner—a 5th class spellbook—seemed already destined for its rightful owner, judging by the pleased expression of the old sorcerer descending from the podium.

Not that I'm particularly interested, but... Karyl thought about Mikhail, his gaze drawn to the blue jewel adorning the cover of the spellbook. I might as well take it.

Twirling a cheap staff he had borrowed from the Ulkas Guild, Karyl looked forward.

[Let the Expert competition begin!!]

Perhaps Bargo Sira had interfered to test his abilities before the bet. To Karyl’s surprise, he was pitted against one of the sorcerers he had overheard chatting earlier—a man with delicate features and a wide-brimmed hat, the epitome of a stereotypical sorcerer.

Gripping the staff tightly, he began to chant a spell, his nerves tense. Magic circles formed around him.

Let's keep it simple. Karyl thought, dashing lightly towards the chanting man. With a nonchalant swing of his staff, he struck hard at the man's legs.

Thud-!

The staff shattered with a dull sound, and simultaneously, the sorcerer’s leg bent at an unnatural angle.

"Agh...?!" Without a chance to resist, the man fell forward, his cries of pain mingled with his screams.

"Flame Finger," Karyl chanted, conjuring a small flame on his fingertip. Slowly, he approached the fallen sorcerer.

"What... What is this...?!" The sorcerer’s voice trembled with fear and confusion, but before he could finish his sentence, Karyl lightly touched his cheek with the flame. "Aaahhh!!!"

The match ended absurdly quickly, all with a mere 1st class spell.