SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

The environmental shift that Kuzon had noticed since the initiation of Kendrick's Original Magic began to grow stronger.

The pressure felt like it was closing in on him, growing stronger and more imposing.

And then...

... Then...

... Nothing happened.

"Hm?" Kuzon cocked his head to the side, his thoughts a little confused about what to expect next.

Kendrick's dumbfounded expression didn't make his confusion any better.

It seemed something was supposed to happen, but nothing was going on. Kuzon considered saying something to ease the awkward silence that had taken solace in the air, but thankfully he didn't have to.

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"W-what?! Why isn't it working?" Kendrick's voice shot out.

'Why isn't he on his knees yet? He should be...' The 9th Prince was on the verge of breaking out in a vicious roar, just thinking about the impossibility occuring in front of him.

[Original Magic: True Domain]

It was his trump card, and Original Magic that was among the best in the Midas Empire, even acknowledged by those superior to him.

It had a very simple, yet complex function; bending his immediate surrounding to his will.

He could make the ground around him break down and become nothing but a swampy mess.

He could remove all the moisture around him completely.

He could make the air heavier and denser, forcefully making anyone in his vicinity to crumble under the pressure.

There were lots of other applications he could utilize, but for the purposes of this match, he had used the third function.

His opponent was meant to be forcefully brought to their knees, or even flat-faced to the ground.

He had used this move over and over again that it already felt predetermined.

Yet, for the first time in so long... someone withstood his power?!

No, it wasn't even about withstanding. It seemed like he wasn't even being affected at all.

Why?

How?

None of it made sense to him.

"Haaa... I see how it is now." The enemy suddenly spoke out, causing Kendrick to become slightly flustered.

Perhaps he could use something else. Something that would instantly overwhelm the target and cause him to be completely submissive to his power.

'If I don't hurry, he'll look down on me. I can't allow that. Anything but that!'

What about removing moisture?

Igniting the oxygen in the air?

Dropping the temperature to the lowest degree possible?

Kendrick tried all of those things, yet...

'... WHY IS NOTHING WORKING?!' His thoughts cried out.

Was it a fluke?

Was his Mana unstable?

Was he doing the Spell wrong?

It was none of those things. There was no problem on his end, so why wasn't he achieving the desired result?

The answer evaded him, and he felt like a fool for even attempting even more variations of his Spell.

'Why can't I just—!'

"... Inferior." The opponent's voice tingled Kendrick's ear in his desperation.

"W-what? What did you just say?"

"I figured it out. The reason why your Magic isn't working on me. It's simply because the energy behind yours is inferior."

"What?!"

Kendrick was confused. What was this fool saying?

"I've said enough. It's time to make good on my promise now."

He wanted to comprehend. He wanted to dig deep until he found the answer. What did he mean by inferior?

"YOUUU VEERRMIIII—"

>SQUELCH!<

Before he realized it, Kendrick was already pierced in the chest by a golden blade.

'I... didn't even... see it coming...'

He had thought his blade projection was immensely fast, but this was on another level. It seemed transcendent.

"Guark!" Blood poured out of his mouth, oozing into the pool that had formed underneath him thanks to the red liquid that flowed from his chest.

Kendrick's rage and anger suddenly began to deflate. Suddenly, nothing seemed to matter any longer.

Nothing except the burning question that ached his heart—the very heart that was being crushed under the weight of the blade that impaled him.

"C-can I ask you one thing...?" Kendrick muttered, his tired gaze on the supposed vermin that stood in front of him.

He didn't realize when he crumbled to his knees, splattering more blood on his golden armor.

The fact that he wasn't healing despite the countless Healing Magic he was utilizing showed just how hopeless and useless his situation was.

"What question?"

"A-are you... really an imposter...?"

This power he displayed, and the authority he exuded, it wasn't like anything a mere Inferior could produce.

'It's almost the same as... when I am facing older brother...' The image of the First Prince flashed in his head.

The rising sun of the Midas Empire—the genius among all geniuses. The one to become Emperor one day.

Why would a mere plebian remind him of his dignified brother?

"I am not."

"I-I see..." It appeared he was right, after all.

This man, though he didn't recognize him, was a Midas.

More questions surged through his mind, but he slowly found himself unable to say anything else.

At the very least, the frustration and anger he had felt plummeted upon this revelation.

'It was... a Midas Royal all along...'

"Can I ask you something too? How strong am I compared to the other Midas Royals?" He could only hear echoes at this point, but Kendrick was surprisingly able to hear the question so clearly.

He didn't think he could give a coherent answer, but... he knew for sure.

"My older brother... the First Prince... will utterly destroy you..."

"I see. That's useful to know."

Once more, Kendrick found himself unable to hear or see anything properly.

He was descending to his death for sure. Still, what was this relief he felt within him?

It wasn't like he looked forward to death, and there were still many things he wished he could have achieved before dying.

However, this relief was too overpowering to resist.

'At least, I didn't die a weakling.'

That was his greatest fear. Throughout his fight with this stranger, that fear had risen to the point of nearly driving him insane.

However, now that he knew the true identity of the one who killed him, he could finally close his eyes in peace.

'I wasn't weak. He was just... too strong.'

The moment he made that thought, Kendrick breathed his last.

... And died.

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[A/N]

Poor Kendrick. He stood no chance.