Chapter 113: Misaligned Standards

“Eh? Oh no, was I not supposed to use this?”

“…”

Moria’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

What’s wrong with this guy?

Arcane Magic is a unique type of spellcasting that alters the nature of mana using one’s own energy.

It requires mastery over the technique of internalization, and wielding it proficiently demands a certain threshold of magical power and sensitivity.

6th tier is the commonly accepted benchmark.

Arcane Magic is, without a doubt, a power of the 6th tier.

Even a beginner with just a year of basic study would know this.

Yet he acted as if he had no idea that Arcane Magic was a 6th tier domain, even while using it.

Moria tried to understand Risir’s intentions.

It wasn’t easy.

His actions were too absurd to take at face value, and yet too clumsy to be part of some calculated cheat.

Moria believed in the integrity of magic.

She couldn’t believe that someone stupid enough to pull a stunt like this in a duel could reach such a level at such a young age.

“…”

Then what the hell was this?

This bizarre behavior?

If all of this was a plan to confuse her, it was working.

Risir’s psychological assault was putting a strain on Moria’s thoughts.

As she struggled to make sense of him, Risir politely apologized.

“My apologies. I don’t know much about this magic, so it seems I’ve made a mistake without realizing.”

“…?”

An apology worse than none at all.

Just as Moria’s thoughts were beginning to settle, they were thrown into chaos again.

Arcane Magic is the very identity of a mage.

A school-affiliated mage’s teachings and revelations are formalized through Arcane Magic, it’s how they evolve.

And yet he says…

He doesn’t know much about it?

A mage saying that about their own Arcane Magic?

In both of Moria’s lifetimes as a mage, she had never encountered anything like it.

Maybe no one in all of magical history had.

A freak. Best not to engage further.

Moria decided not to waste any more serious thought on him.

Ssshhh

The swirling sand around Risir dissipated.

The grains scattered naturally across the floor.

Having dispelled his Arcane Magic, Risir spoke.

“I’m glad we discovered that before things got serious. Shall we continue the duel, if it’s alright?”

He glanced between Moria and Pallarg as he spoke.

“…”

“…”

Moria and Pallarg exchanged exhausted looks and nodded.

Then Risir looked at Moria’s waist and called out urgently.

“Ah, pardon me! Before we continue, I’d like to confirm one more thing, Miss Moria—“

He glanced at the sword hanging from his waist as he addressed her.

“The Blue Breath is your specialty, right?”

Despite no longer being a swordswoman, she could still use sword breathing techniques.

That demonstrated her exceptional mana sensitivity.

In that sense, Blue Breath was certainly her specialty.

Yet somehow, his question carried an odd undertone.

Moria shrugged it off and replied.

“And? Why do you ask?”

“You forgot your sword, didn’t you?”

“…?”

Why would that matter?

Wait… is he suggesting that because I can use Blue Breath, I should be wielding both magic and sword in battle?

Switching between magical and sword breathing mid-fight?

Even standing still and concentrating required one to risk mana backlash and overload.

And he expected her to do that in combat?

Is he mocking me?

She decided that must be it.

Then her eyes caught the sword at his hip.

“So let me ask: Is this duel purely a contest of magical ability? With no weapons allowed—“

So he brought a prop just to taunt her?

Moria decided she would no longer be fooled by his harmless face and disarming appearance.

What a pathetic brat.

Crk, crk

Her frosty hostility took the shape of ice spikes.

They floated in the air around her, all aimed at Risir.

“If you weren’t planning to use it, then why bring that sword to a magic duel? Surely you wouldn’t carry it for no reason!”

She shouted, not at Risir, but toward the crowd watching.

The high priestess knew well how to handle an arrogant noble brat.

“Yeah, it’s a magic duel. Why bring a sword?”

“Was he planning to show off something with it?”

“Oh! I think I’ve heard of that sword before. Even in the back alleys, they say he—“

“Wait, wasn’t he a mage?”

“What does it matter if he’s a mage or a swordsman? If he’s good at both—“

“It’s not that simple—“

With the crowd focused on his sword, he would be trapped by his own pride and image.

That was how nobles were.

“As your opponent, I permit it! Use that sword! Prove it means something!”

The ice spikes flew toward Risir.

Whirl!

Risir didn’t draw his sword.

He summoned a gust that gently deflected the spikes off course.

The aimless spikes shattered against the ground and walls with sharp cracks.

Moria dropped the remaining ones instead of launching them.

The sound of them breaking was like a rebuke to Risir, who had spoiled the mood.

“What’s the matter? That sword of yours had the perfect opportunity to shine.”

She laid the groundwork for the spectators to mock Risir.

And most, being nobles, didn’t miss the chance to tear someone down.

“Seems like Risir is losing in terms of momentum. Am I seeing this right? I’m no expert in magic—“

“Looks to me like he tried to mess with Moria using that sword and got outplayed.”

“I thought it was odd that a mage brought a sword to a duel… So that’s why.”

“A weapon you won’t even use? Just weighs you down. Not a serious competitor.”

Moria smiled faintly at their words.

Seems like he mistook ‘Moria’ for some country bumpkin from a rural village.

Big mistake.

Toying with noble brats was child’s play for a high priestess.

Be it with words, actions, or magic.

“No, not yet. This guy’s moment to shine… that’ll come when it really matters. Let’s call it my trump card.”

Risir responded with a sly smile.

Moria took it as cheap bravado and sneered.

“Of course. But what if I can’t wait to see you use that sword? Oh, I know—“

Crk, crk

She formed more ice spikes.

More numerous.

Bigger.

As if to flaunt their size and number, she summoned them slowly, threateningly.

“What do you think? Does this qualify as that ‘important moment’ you mentioned?”

“It’s becoming more important by the second.”

She sneered, and he grinned back, ever calm.

A moment of silence.

Then a sharp whoosh.

Only one spike moved.

The smallest one, but it flew at a completely different, violent speed.

Wrapped in wind magic, its acceleration was unnatural.

Every element Moria had shown up until now had been for this one move.

The earlier attacks were meant to dull his senses.

The flashy, slow spike creation was to divert his focus from speed.

Multi-attribute magic.

A force nearly impossible for a 5th tier mage to use proficiently in combat.

Risir couldn’t possibly expect it.

Moria had widened an existing blind spot and drove her decisive strike straight into it.

There was no way he could react in time.

As the spike neared him, she prepared for the inevitable, Pallarg’s defensive enchantment around Risir would shatter.

But just as the spike reached him—

Moria’s pupils dilated slightly.

Risir’s mana moved half a beat faster than expected.

Speed not from reaction, but prediction.

The concentrated mana surged with intent, and a whirlwind rose.

Unlike before, it was infused with fire.

FWOOSH!

Steam burst out in front of Risir.

The spike evaporated in an instant.

How—?

Moria was stunned.

Never mind the extraordinary flame that instantly melted the spike.

Never mind that he perfectly handled a multi-attribute attack.

How did he know?

He had prepared specifically for an acceleration-based strike.

But acceleration isn’t part of ice magic.

Moria could only use it through multi-attribute fusion with wind.

In other words—

Risir had anticipated that she would use multi-attribute magic.

Accounting for many combat possibilities is caution.

But going too far becomes foolishness.

He’d allocated his focus and mana toward defending against an ability almost no 5th tier mage could use properly in a duel.

She wanted to dismiss it as a fool’s luck, but she couldn’t.

“You predicted I’d use multi-attribute magic?”

“I tried to see things from your perspective.”

“My perspective?”

“Your first attack showed that typical projectiles were ineffective against my wind magic. Yet, for your second attack, you chose the same approach.”

“The same? I made more, and they were larger—“

“Deliberately so. That’s what felt off. Instead of hiding your intent, you flaunted it. That told me you were trying to distract me. So I wondered… what’s the real threat? My first thought was speed. It’s the most straightforward way to enhance a spike at your level.”

“…”

It sounded like sharp, logical deduction.

But there was a critical leap.

“You’re saying multi-attribute magic is the most common way for a 5th tier mage to enhance their spell?”

He assumed it was standard for someone at her level to handle it mid-combat.

Even though just casting it at all was difficult for a 5th tier mage.

“Did I make another mistake?”

“…Let’s call it ignorance-born luck. Multi-attribute magic is not common for a 5th tier mage. No one at that level handles it proficiently in battle.”

“Really? Then I suppose it’s just that, luck from ignorance. I also learned it during my 5th tier, so I wasn’t aware of that.”

Risir accepted her jab as if it were nothing.

With a completely even tone.

It was clear… he genuinely believed that handling multi-attribute magic at the 5th tier was normal.

“…”

Moria was speechless.

He’d spotted her trick because to him, such power was ‘normal’ at her level?

And that warped sense of standards came from his own “ordinary” experience?

“…Hahahahaha!!!”

Moria suddenly burst into laughter.

“He didn’t know Arcane Magic was a 6th tier art. Thought everyone mastered multi-attribute magic at 5th tier, just like him! This is hilarious. Absolutely horrifyingly hilarious.”

Moria sneered at Risir as she looked at him.

She judged his behavior as something that strayed from the standards he had shown, deciding now that he was just pretending to be a genius.

That meant, in her eyes, he was mocking her—mocking her for ever speaking of “true genius.”

The pride of the high priestess had been wounded.

In that emotionally compromised state, the high priestess arrived at an irrational conclusion, one that might jeopardize her grand plan.

She would show him what true genius looked like, so he could never pretend to be one again.

A power beyond what a 6th tier like him should even dare to imitate.

It was the mystery of the 7th tier: ideation.

Then, Moria’s rational mind spoke up.

—And how do you plan to deal with the consequences?

Extraordinary talent always invites proportionate suspicion.

Even when she had merely used multi-attribute spells, she’d struggled to get Pallarg to accept it.

So what would happen if she dared demonstrate ideation in front of him?

What if she exposed even a sliver of her high priestess self beneath her genius facade?

Would Pallarg admire it purely?

Or would he wield doubt like a blade until his insatiable curiosity was satisfied?

It was foolish.

Moria’s rational mind understood that perfectly.

Yet she couldn’t heed that voice of reason.

Her genius was being mocked and toyed with.

By that ridiculous little brat.

How could she let that pass?

Without a word, Moria fired ice spikes at Risir again and again.

Outwardly, she looked calm and composed.

But inside, her thoughts swirled in chaos.

Calm down. Hold it back. There has to be another way.

“No.”

Finally, she muttered grimly and waved her arm.

The ice spikes floating around her crashed into the ground.

Clang!

They shattered into shards.

Then, those scattered shards gathered again, forming a single ice spike.

It was clearly an ordinary elemental spell.

But within that elemental magic, the mystery of ideation had been disassembled and woven in.

It was a power not yet fully permitted to her current self.

Throb!

The magical force that constituted her being weakened.

The youth and genius she had gained in exchange for immense power began to dim.

A faint wrinkle appeared on her once flawless skin.

In that moment, her body aged by several years.

She was still in the domain of youth, and the changes didn’t show plainly—yet.

“Now then, Mister Genius! Let’s see you deal with this one too!”

The power she’d gained at such cost revealed itself for all to see.

──────────
■Moria
Level: 33(61) → 40(61)
──────────

A massive ice spike shaped by sheer will hurtled toward Risir.

Its speed was clearly slower than the earlier wind-infused spikes.

Before it even reached him, a blazing whirlwind rose to meet it.

Fwoooosh!

The flaming storm devoured the ice spike, releasing a cloud of steam.

The weapon-shaped ice melted and lost its form.

It seemed as if Moria’s attack had failed—until…

“…Huh?”

Risir’s brow twitched.

The scattered steam gathered once more—no, it charged toward the flaming whirlwind.

“This is—”

Risir felt his mana, which made up the whirlwind, grow fainter.

Not a loss, an erosion.

Moria’s will, embedded in her spell, was corroding Risir’s magic.

Soon, the ice spike vanished without a trace.

All that remained was a flaming whirlwind.

Moria’s flaming whirlwind.

“Hahahaha!!!”

Seeing Risir’s surprise, Moria burst into crazed laughter.

She swung her arm with all her might.

The flame storm, once Risir’s, surged toward him.

Through it, Moria could feel it clearly.

The power of the sparring-protection spell surrounding Risir was steadily weakening.

Got him.

She had put an end to that brat’s pathetic act of genius.

And that realization gave Moria immense satisfaction.

“…”

But it didn’t last long.

The ecstasy was followed by exhaustion.

Her blood, which had burned hot, quickly cooled, then turned cold.

She felt the stinging gazes of Pallarg and Drey upon her.

They knew.

They knew just how insane what she’d just done was.

This wasn’t a power that could be brushed off as mere genius.

Could they even accept this?

Could she convince them?

Moria turned her head with difficulty.

She met Pallarg and Drey’s reactions.

“…”

“…”

They were smiling.

Their faces betrayed joy and awe they could not fully suppress.

Then the crowd burst into cheers.

“Ah.”

It felt as though the air of the arena was seeping into her body.

She realized something.

She had misunderstood what genius truly was.

True genius does not beg to be understood.

In fact, if it can be understood, it isn’t genius at all.

Talent so great it could never be explained, that was true genius.

Just like what she had shown now.

“Ah…”

At that moment,

Moria truly understood genius.

She was no longer a fabricated, false genius.

Moria.

She looked at the flaming whirlwind that still blazed fiercely, swallowing Risir whole.

The match was already over.

With the ease of a victor, Moria smiled and waved her hand.

She called back the flame storm she now claimed as her own.

“…?”

But her expression twisted right then.

She waved again.

Then again. She stared down at her hand.

She thought it was just a feeling, but it wasn’t.

The mana within the flame storm…

She couldn’t feel it anymore.

“You really are an absurd genius.”

That’s when she heard Risir’s elevated voice.

Fwoosh!

The flame storm dispersed.

And there he stood, smiling amid the scattering embers.

“When I was 5th tier, I couldn’t even imagine this kind of mana control.”

The emotion in his smile was pure admiration.

“…”

Again, it was the same.

He still had no idea.

Risir truly believed that a supposed 5th tier mage like Moria using fragments of 7th tier magic was natural.

“I learned a lot.”

And now, a 6th tier like himself handled those fragments even more naturally.

More skillfully than Moria.

The scattered embers gathered and became a flame storm once more.

“…”

Moria stared blankly at the whirling fire.

She was certain that Risir’s attitude was meant to mock and toy with her.

But now… she wasn’t sure anymore.

“…How…”

What had just happened defied everything she understood.

It began to shatter her world.

And the confusion rippled into her inner world.

The magic that formed the foundation of “Genius Moria”—

Already cracked, now began to collapse faster.

Wrinkles deepened on her loosening skin.

Her hair faded and dulled, her eyes lost their light.

It was as if time itself flowed differently around her.

Moria, the young genius mage from a countryside village.

She was aging before their eyes.

No—she was returning to her true form.

Her immense power, though damaged, slowly returned.

“…Ha, hahaha… Fine! I get it already!!!”

Moria shouted with unfocused eyes.

She could no longer see herself objectively.

She saw the collapse of her magic, not as a crisis, but as an opportunity.

Yes.

With this magic, she could defeat him.

She only lost to him because she had been pretending to be 5th tier.

He wasn’t a genius.

He wasn’t an incomprehensible being.

Moria felt the power boiling within her.

And just as she was about to unleash it fully—

“…Huh?”

Risir vanished from her sight.

It was the moment he bent low while walking toward her.

Step.

A quiet but distinct footstep rang in Moria’s ears.

Before she knew it, Risir was right in front of her, swinging his arm.

In that drawn-out instant, their gazes met.

A critical moment.

Risir’s eyes, calm yet playfully serious, seemed to speak.

In his swinging arm was the sheathed sword at his waist.

Thud.

A dull sound echoed as Moria’s jaw jerked.

Her body collapsed in place like a puppet with its strings cut.

Flop.

A biting silence filled the arena.

“””Wooooaah!!!”””

Then the crowd erupted in cheers, shattering the stillness.

Thunderous applause followed.

A spectacular and intense duel. A dramatic finish to match.

Everyone gave their wholehearted admiration.

“…”

“…”

Indeed.

It was a spectacular and intense duel with a dramatic finish to match…

Except for those who fully understood what had happened.

Pallarg and Drey.

The very ones who couldn’t hide their awe at Moria earlier, were now staring at Risir, faces twisted with alarm.