The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 49: The Magic Competition (3)

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.

"Sure. But how much did you wager?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's not beat around the bush. Everyone knows these competitions are more than just a contest of magical prowess for the Magic Council," Karyl calmly stated, pinning the emblem to his chest. "How much did you bet in my name?"

"Ha, hahaha!" Bargo burst into hearty laughter, drawing the attention of those nearby. "I wagered a hundred gold on the betting odds. No one bets that much for a first match in the Expert competition."

"Who am I up against?" Karyl's response was icy.

"Uh... What?"

"I've done some digging. Even for a first match, you can bet up to five hundred gold."

Bargo's face soured. Is he out of his mind? Five hundred gold is no small sum... Even if he broke the magic measurer, what makes him think that he’s worth that much...?

To Bargo, Karyl still seemed too young. While he acknowledged Karyl's impressive mana for his age, he believed that practical experience was another matter entirely.

No matter how much mana one possesses, it's useless if not utilized properly, Bargo pondered.

According to the draw, there were 4th class sorcerers from both the Magic Council and the Immortal Council. Furthermore, Bargo was familiar with these two, and they were far from newcomers. They had ample experience and were likely to be finalists.

Winning is out of the question. Even a loss wouldn't be too detrimental for him. He's already joined the guild, so a defeat could rather be a good opportunity to further win him over.

Thus, Bargo placed a moderate bet, showing eagerness but at a level he could afford to lose.

"It's a shame since it's an opportunity for you to make a fortune. The only competition an individual can bet in is the beginner’s one.”

"I like your confidence. With that kind of spirit, you might even aim for victory."

Karyl knew these were just empty words. I don't plan on wasting much time here. There's much to do and much to gain.

While everyone dreamt of achieving “victory” and reaching the top was undoubtedly a great feat, for Karyl, the current competition was merely a hurdle.

In his previous life, he had fought countless sorcerers, especially after Olivurn ascended to the throne. Before the descent of the Oracles, during the empire's campaign to unify the continent, he had been at the forefront of the battlefield more than anyone else. Of course, it was a different story from when he stood at the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

Even without magic, facing 4th class sorcerers isn't difficult for me now. Although his body wasn't yet fully trained, the opponents he needed to face at present were weak. Compared to those I had fought in my previous life, this is hardly a challenge.

From being surrounded by top-level sorcerers at the Battle of Falchion to facing one of the continent's four great sorcerers, Darryl Harian of the Lurein Principality. His experiences of life-threatening moments were vivid.

In the end, I was the one who survived.

"It’s starting."

The beginner's match appeared on a large crystal ball in the square. Karyl watched for a moment before rising.

"I should head to the arena."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Smirking at Bargo's words, Karyl pointed at a person appearing in the crystal ball. "Well, rather than that, place your bet on this guy. It'll be interesting."

The man standing in the arena with a tense expression was Mikhail.

***

Smooth sailing. Karyl sat in the waiting room, nodding as he scanned over the list of contestants who had advanced to the semi-finals of the beginner competition. Among the four names, Mikhail's stood out without a doubt.

"The competition has really gone downhill, using the same arena as the beginners."

"And why do the novices get to use the arena first?"

"It can't be helped. Think of it as the warm-up act before the main event."

"Hmph..." Karyl listened quietly to the conversation of the contestants as they waited for the arena to be prepared.

None of them seemed to possess mana indicative of being above 4th class, so Karyl could tell were rookie sorcerers. Yet, even having the status of a sorcerer wasn't common on the continent, so their pride was sky-high.

"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.