Dukedom’s Legendary Prodigy - Chapter 7
----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Vine Chapter: 7 Chapter Title: First Blood -----------------------------------------------------------------
A few months later.
Alongside his water magic, Dale's necromancy training was advancing by leaps and bounds.
The news that the Master of the Black Magic Tower had officially taken his own son as a disciple also spread like wildfire.
Some things simply cannot be hidden, no matter how one tries. This was especially true for a talent as brilliant as Dale's.
Magic and swordsmanship. On top of that, noble etiquette, horsemanship, and all the knowledge a firstborn son needed to one day lead the duchy. At the age of nine, people did not hesitate to call Dale a prodigy of the ducal house.
He was, after all, the son of the great Duke Sachsen.
The heir who would carry on the legacy of the continent's greatest necromancer and dark magician, Lord Black.
The father's vow not to teach his own child the magic of darkness. The breaking of that very vow sent considerable ripples throughout the entire empire.
In other words, the entire empire had begun to watch Dale's every move.
Golden sunlight shattered and scattered across the snow-white plain. Two sets of footprints marked the pure white, snow-covered expanse, and at their end, two shadows stood in opposition.
One was the snow elf, Sephia, with sapphire-blue eyes. The other was the prodigy of the ducal house, Dale of Sachsen.
“Don't hesitate. Come at me with everything you have.”
Sephia, the 6th-circle elven mage, spoke, her expression more serious than usual.
The easiest and fastest way for a master to gauge a disciple's progress.
A magical duel.
It involved directly experiencing and receiving the full force of the disciple's magic.
Yet, as Sephia faced a mere nine-year-old novice at the level of a 1st-circle master, her eyes held the caution of a mage in the heart of a battlefield.
Silence fell. And the moment a feather of that silence settled upon the white plain...
“Arise, O ‘conjoined’ wall of ice.”
Dale finally uttered the words of the spell.
A mage's incantation is a process of auto-suggestion, solidifying one's mental image through the 'verbalization of an image.' Dale had induced a conscious bias by adding the modifier 'conjoined' to the commonly used Ice Wall spell.
The suggestive power of a 'verbalized modifier' is far stronger than one engraved unconsciously.
Kwoong!
A massive wall of ice shot up, blocking the space between Dale and Sephia.
Ice Wall.
Elemental magic is heavily influenced by the surrounding climate. Even a novice's frost magic would be amplified several times over when cast in such a frigid wasteland. Sephia was well aware of this principle.
A wall of ice five meters high and wide, and one meter thick. Considering the circumstances, it was an Ice Wall of standard size, nothing extraordinary compared to an average mage.
'Even so...'
Sephia was a high-ranking mage who had reached the 6th circle in water-attribute magic. It wasn't difficult for her to discern the principle hidden within Dale's Ice Wall.
'The density of the ice is extremely high.'
Molecular bonding.
By adding a modifier for 'conjoined' to strengthen the attraction between the ice molecules, he had achieved a density several times that of a normal Ice Wall. Without that modifier, an unimaginably massive Ice Wall would have likely formed.
'But why did he raise a wall of ice in the first place?'
As Sephia pondered this, tightening her guard...
Crack, crackle.
'…!'
“Shrapnel.”
Cracks like a turtle's shell spread across the ice wall, and Dale incanted another 'spell'.
A spell is ultimately the verbalization of an image—a process of auto-suggestion to solidify a mental picture.
An image (archetype) universally shared by a people, nation, culture, or era, transcending the level of individual consciousness.
To become a magical incantation, an image requires that level of powerful symbolism and auto-suggestion. And in Dale's original world, at least, that word possessed a 'very definite form of image.'
Kaang!
The front of the ice wall shattered, exploding like a grenade. Countless ice fragments scattered in all directions.
Shards imbued with a chilling edge. An ice shrapnel grenade.
'…!'
Only then did Sephia realize why Dale had increased the wall's density, and she gasped in astonishment.
'Conjoinment and fragmentation.'
If one were to trigger an ice explosion in an extremely compressed mass of ice, designed to shred the outer layer and maximize the shrapnel effect... each scattered piece of ice would be comparable to the blade of a master assassin.
A technique possible only for Dale, who possessed the mental image of a modern weapon known as a grenade.
No one in this world could likely draw such an image from the incantation Dale had conceived. Because no entity that could be evoked by such a verbalization existed in this world.
But for Dale, it did exist. The image of 'otherworldly weapons' that the people of this world could not even fathom.
In the fight between hunters and beasts, the role of highly developed modern weaponry was by no means small. Furthermore, his military knowledge as the former supreme commander of humanity's suicide corps was far beyond that of any civilian.
He didn't need to be a scientist. Magic, after all, was the materialization of a mental image, the power to turn imagination into reality.
And the image Dale materialized was a scene the people of this world could not even imagine.
A hellish battlefield where guns, missiles, explosives, and all manner of thermal weapons unleashed an endless barrage. A landscape of slaughter unknown to anyone in this world. The image Dale's incantation drew upon was a fragment of that very hellscape.
A torrent of blades, honed like those of high-ranking assassins, rushed toward Sephia.
Moreover, the blades were so small and fine that they were impossible to parry one by one. It was, quite literally, a grenade.
'This is hardly the idea of a child.'
Its destructive power was on a different level from the silent-cast ice explosion he had used before. Sephia's face contorted in shock as the grenade fragments scattered.
The blades of ice began to tear Sephia's body to shreds. Ripped apart so brutally that her form became unrecognizable, her corpse impossible to identify.
“Master Sephia!”
Dale's breath caught in his throat. His heart sank. But the body of Sephia, which had taken a direct hit from his ice grenade, did not splatter blood or viscera.
There was only a trace of destruction, like an exquisite ice sculpture shattering. Only then did Dale realize.
'An illusion!'
Realizing this, he slowly turned his head.
“Dale.”
Sephia was already behind him, watching him with a careful expression. Dale held his breath.
A single line of blood was drawn across Sephia's pale cheek. A drop of blood trickled down from the wound.
“That wound…”
“Were you afraid that I had died?”
Sephia asked. The meaning behind her question was anything but light.
“...I never meant to kill you, Master.”
Dale hesitated, then nodded. It was not a lie born of goodwill, nor was it pretense.
And yet, his magic was imbued with the art of slaughter, designed to kill Sephia with all his might. Dale was aware of this fact as well.
“You handled water-attribute magic with great skill. After displaying such proficient magic, why do you look so intimidated?”
Sephia gave a bitter smile, once again deriding her own immaturity.
“On the contrary, as your master, I am very pleased that you unleashed your magic with your true intentions.”
Sephia continued. Dale blinked at her unexpected words.
“You revealed yourself honestly, without hiding who you are.”
With your full power, holding nothing back.
“Master…”
“What greater proof could there be that you trust me?”
Trust. With those words, Sephia gently embraced the young Dale.
“You are a disciple I am very proud of.”
Sephia said, as if admonishing herself.
“...Really?”
“I am truly a fortunate master to have such a splendid disciple.”
“It's all thanks to your teachings, Master Sephia.”
Sephia nodded once more. Only then did Dale finally smile. A smile befitting a child his age.
A bright, wide smile.
Sephia returned it with a smile of her own.
A mage on the verge of completing the 2nd circle, wielding the dual attributes of Water and Darkness. Handling two attributes, not just one, required not merely double the effort, but an exponential amount.
But Sephia could see it. The truly terrifying thing about Dale wasn't the speed of his achievements.
Magic, after all, was the materialization of a mental world, the power to superimpose imagination onto reality.
So, what form would the complete mental image this child would one day unleash upon this world take? Furthermore, what kind of landscape would 'Dale's world' be when it was superimposed over this one? She couldn't know. Sephia simply blessed her disciple's growth.
While trying her best to ignore the ominous feeling creeping up her spine.
That night, in Duke Sachsen's office.
While reporting Dale's progress as usual, Lord Black gasped at an unexpected sight.
“Wise Elf, what happened to the wound on your cheek?”
A single cut across the elven mage's cheek. The water magic of the Blue Magic Tower specialized in self-defense and confusing opponents. For a Blue Mage to be wounded held no small significance.
Even if it was just a trivial cut.
“Could it be the 'Mountain Assassins'...”
The Mountain Assassins. As Lord Black cautiously began to speak, Sephia quietly shook her head.
“It was due to my own inadequacy during a magical duel with young Lord Dale.”
“...!”
Sephia said with a bitter smile. Dale. At that name, an undeniable flicker of agitation crossed Lord Black's face.
“I have already sent a letter to the Blue Tower, informing them that my stay in the duchy will be longer than planned.”
“I am indebted to you beyond words, Lady Sephia.”
“Indebted? Not at all. Teaching a talented disciple is a joy for me as well.”
Sephia smiled softly, recalling Dale's remarkable day-by-day improvement.
“I am grateful to hear you say so.”
Lord Black continued impassively.
“That is why, though it is truly shameless of me, I have a favor to ask regarding Dale.”
“A favor, you say?”
“──Not long ago, I received intelligence that a horde of orcs from the Demon Lord's territory has begun crossing the White Mountains.”
Sephia quietly drew a breath.
“The threat from the orcs themselves is not significant. It can likely be handled by mustering a small cavalry unit.”
“You mean to say?”
“That is why I wish for Dale to participate in this battle.”
“But young Lord Dale is still—!”
“I am not demanding 'great feats' from Dale on the battlefield.”
But Duke Sachsen calmly cut her off.
“Subjugating the monsters that overrun our domain and ensuring its safety is the duty of House Sachsen. As the firstborn son who will one day bear the ducal name, Dale must also understand that duty.”
'How incredibly harsh.'
But Sephia couldn't bring herself to say the words. A father's love for his son was surely no different for this man.
Nevertheless, this was the fate bestowed upon those who carried the blood of the ducal house.
“So, what is it you wish to ask of me, specifically?”
“While I prepare for the campaign, I wish to entrust one of my artifacts to Dale, just in case.”
An artifact of Lord Black. Understanding the implications, Sephia quietly drew a sharp breath.
“An artifact of darkness…”
“I hope that you, Lady Sephia, will guide Dale so that he may control its power.”
At Lord Black's request, Sephia nodded without hesitation.