Puk-! Pububuk-!
Countless black spikes pierced through my body.
At the same time, red streams of blood rained down.
The strange blend of black and red painted my entire body.
"Keheuk...!"
When I dropped to my knees, the first thing that entered my sight was my Disciple, Ed Etar, collapsed and bleeding heavily just like me.
"Etar...."
And the one who attacked me was also my Disciple.
Draco Tylant.
As soon as Etar noticed that Tylant was attacking me, he tried to stop him, but it was impossible for him alone. In the end, he suffered like that.
Especially since his legs had been targeted relentlessly, he could only writhe on the floor, unable to stand.
"I truly cannot understand. Why do you insist on trying to erase such power?"
Tylant stepped toward the emerald sealing stone beside me.
It was the sealing stone that imprisoned the worst magician, Sylarid—called the Magician of Calamity who summoned monsters.
"They say when this sealing stone absorbs all of Sylarid's power, it turns black, correct?"
Tylant stroked the sealing stone, about thirty percent of which had already turned black.
"And Archmage Arkis Aimer. You were obligated to destroy the sealing stone once it turned completely black."
I tried in every possible way to stop Tylant, but every time I attempted to focus my mind to cast magic, his black spikes ravaged my body.
It wasn't just disrupting my focus—pain so severe that I couldn't even retain consciousness began to dominate my mind.
It wasn't only pain.
My vision warped as though eaten away, and even Tylant's figure looked as though it was being sucked into cracks.
'Don't tell me....'
Beside the fallen Etar sat a teacup.
The tea I had drunk.
He had definitely slipped something into it.
Otherwise, how could someone like me—an Archmage—be unable to cast magic from mere pain?
"I suddenly find myself curious. Are you trying to erase this power because you're weak? Because you believe you cannot control the mighty power of Sylarid?"
Tylant shook his head and continued.
"How did someone who fears strength become an Archmage? I cannot recognize someone weak like you as an Archmage or as my teacher."
Tylant placed his hand on the sealing stone and closed his eyes.
"Ahh, I can feel it. Even though this stone has absorbed only about thirty percent of the power, it contains a strength so magnificent I don't want to let go...."
Opening his eyes, Tylant looked down at me with a slow, smug grin.
"I will kill someone as weak as you and become the new Archmage. And once I am Archmage, I will wait until this sealing stone absorbs every last bit of Sylarid's power—then I will absorb its power myself. Unlike you, I am strong."
"Tylant... you have never faced him, so you do not know. The power of Sylarid sealed in there is a true calamity...."
"That is simply because you are weak, is it not?"
I tried desperately to reason with him, but it was useless.
Tylant spread his palm toward the sky.
Kugugugung-!
With a deafening roar, a black sphere the size of the full moon began forming in the air.
"Someone stronger than you will lead the magicians and the Magical Society from now on. Farewell."
The black sphere Tylant created began slowly approaching me.
Of course, in reality it must have been moving fast.
I had reached the moment of death.
That was why it appeared so slow—like scenes of my life flashing before my eyes.
"Arkis niim-!"
The fallen Etar screamed toward me.
Had the heavens answered Etar's desperate heart?
As Tylant manifested his massive spell, a small opening appeared that allowed me to cast mine.
I focused as much as I could to counter him, but... I was already too late.
"The drug works well."
'As expected... he used a drug....'
Before I knew it, the sphere had reached right before my eyes.
"Ah...."
With no way out, I shut my eyes tightly and prayed.
'Master... forgive me. In the end, I failed to keep the request you entrusted to me before leaving....'
I will not dare ask for forgiveness.
If we meet in the afterlife, please scold me.
I am a foolish Disciple who failed to complete the task you left behind...
And yet, what a powerless sight this is.
A teacher killed by his own Disciple.
What a miserable death.
But—
If I were to die anyway, I refused to go quietly.
No—I absolutely shouldn't.
Squeezing out the very last of my consciousness, I barely manifested a white sphere equal in size to the one Tylant had created, making one final desperate struggle.
Bajeok-!
Our spells collided, producing a dazzlingly bright light that nearly blinded me.
---
Pak!
Something struck the crown of my head hard.
"Artel! Sleeping again!"
A man's shouting voice hit my ears.
"Heheh, he's getting scolded again."
"Ugh, pathetic. Seriously."
Mocking voices of children followed, drilling into my ears.
Voices I had never heard before.
A dream?
Yes, I must have been killed by Tylant's attack.
This must be something like the flashes before death.
"Artel-!"
Again, a man's voice filled with fury came flying toward me.
But something was strange.
Shouldn't death's visions show things from my memories?
No matter how hard I searched, I had never heard these voices.
I opened my eyes.
'...A classroom?'
On tiered desks, about thirty students were seated.
They shook their heads at me in disappointment.
And standing on the platform below was a young man with red hair.
His appearance and the platform all pointed to one thing.
A teacher.
All of them were people I had never seen in my life.
Kudangtang-!
Startled, I shot up from my seat, knocking my chair over.
What was going on?
"Well, since you're up, find the part I just read and read it aloud."
The teacher spoke.
"Artel, here, here."
The black-haired girl beside me whispered quietly and pointed at a paragraph in the book.
"Kiena, you shouldn't tell him."
Kiena?
That must have been the girl's name, but her face too—I had never seen her.
[To be Continue]