Chapter 112: Different Standards

Humans are creatures of adaptation.

Risir came to truly understand that fact through nothing else but bleeding through his every orifice.

Surprisingly, even something as extreme as bleeding from every orifice became something one could get used to if it happened often enough.

It’s coming.

Feeling a sudden internal anomaly, Risir immediately recognized it as a sign of his orifice will soon bleed and activated Blue Breath in preparation.

The moment overload hit, he would use Blue Breath to stabilize the burden.

Huh?

But no matter how long he waited, the symptom never came.

Instead, a strange mix of relief and disappointment crept in.

Like finishing all your homework just to have the teacher skip checking it.

Wait—is it coming now?

Then the pain hit.

Familiar and sharp. It was definitely overload.

Tch—

But compared to before, something felt lacking… or perhaps, not intense enough.

Yes, it was overload, but it hadn’t reached the level of outright destruction.

It was a sign of growth.

Risir’s body had become strong enough to withstand mild overloads.

Clana, are you seeing this? I think I’ve finally reached a level where I can call myself a true beginner in swordsmanship.

—You lunatic. How dare you still call yourself a beginner?

Don’t tell me… I still have a long way to go?

—Don’t talk to me. I’m about to burst a blood vessel.

Shaking off Clana’s dismissive reply, Risir returned to reality.

Opening his eyes again, he turned to Henya.

“So, where were we in the conversation?”

“You were saying that you wanted to see who the real genius is between you, me and the young lady who hopes she is one.”

Humans often feel emotionally fulfilled when sharing something with others.

Henya was thrilled at the thought of sharing her experience of Risir with someone else, namely, Moria.

When she had been the one suffering, it had been pure torment.

But now, getting to watch someone else suffer was deliciously satisfying.

Especially because the target was a smug young woman full of herself, it made the experience even sweeter.

“…”

And, sure enough, as a first-timer, Moria didn’t disappoint.

Her expression twisted in clear confusion as she looked at Risir.

His overload aftereffects just vanished—without any visible signs or effort. What did he do…?

There were indeed ways to recover from overload’s aftermath.

Artifacts, elixirs, there were countless mysterious items in this world.

Though she looked young, Moria was a high priestess with vast knowledge.

She knew several ways to treat overload.

But something that could instantly and perfectly heal it without any prior signs or rituals?

That kind of thing shouldn’t exist…

If it did exist, it would be an artifact or secret technique of extraordinary value.

Until now, Moria had only paid attention to Pallarg, Drey, and Henya.

But now, her focus was forcibly drawn to Risir, whom she’d previously dismissed as irrelevant.

She tried to gauge Risir’s level.

But his mana was so well-integrated with his energy that it was nearly impossible to measure.

To the untrained eye, he might even seem like a non-mage.

That kind of refined concealment was only possible after stepping into the 6th tier.

Thus, Moria concluded: Risir was at the early stage of 6th tier.

6th tier? At that age?

She was genuinely surprised.

But not nearly as shocked as when she had seen his sudden recovery.

Being around twenty and at early 6th tier—while impressive—was still within the realm of possibility.

After all, reaching the 6th tier didn’t necessarily make someone a genius.

Plenty reached that stage in their twenties only to plateau there for life, forgotten by all.

The real test of talent began after entering the 6th tier.

It was the stage that measured the depth of one’s abilities, not just the existence of them.

This was a stage that could not yet determine whether one’s talent was simply precocious, or truly extraordinary.

For example, look at Henya.

She had lived her life completely unrelated to magic, yet within a single year of self-study, she reached the 4th tier. And in a few months more, the 5th.

It had probably taken Risir his entire life to reach the early 6th.

How long would it take Henya to reach the same?

Moria was confident it wouldn’t even take her a year.

That was true genius.

It was that very brilliance Moria sought to steal, giving up the 8th tier to do so.

To her, fighting Risir as Henya suggested was meaningless.

She turned to Henya and said,

“Young lady, with all due respect, doesn’t fighting him stray from our main topic?”

“Main topic? You mean the subject of true genius?”

Henya let out a series of short, mocking laughs.

This little brat…

A petty provocation, the kind only a young mage would make.

The high priestess resisted showing her rising irritation.

“You know it too, don’t you? That man, he’s not like us.”

“…Yeah. He’s different.”

Pfft.

By this point, Henya didn’t even look like she was trying to provoke anymore, she just looked genuinely amused.

Moria glared, and Henya met that stare with a consistently mocking expression.

Just as Moria’s patience was about to snap—

“A duel with a 6th tier, hmm… that could be interesting. Moria, go ahead and spar with the boy.”

“Master Pallarg?!”

Moria turned to him, startled.

“Seeing you face someone stronger than yourself… it stirs my curiosity.”

Inside, Moria groaned.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Not again…

It was the same thing she’d experienced countless times since becoming Pallarg’s pupil.

Pallarg had high expectations of her.

If she lived up to them, his interest would grow.

If she failed…

That interest might vanish altogether.

He was the former Master of the Blue Tower, known for his eccentricity and fickle nature.

Being his official disciple was an honor of immense value.

“…Understood. If Master Pallarg says so, I’ll gladly meet your expectations.”

Though she had now drifted away from her original goal of defeating Henya and stealing her fame…

Ultimately, this was all still part of gaining Pallarg’s favor.

Stay positive.

It was another chance to leave a strong impression on him.

“Young lady, you promised, remember? Once I’m done dueling him, you’ll face me for real.”

“Sure. I’ll spar with you, if, after you’ve fought Risir, you still want to talk about true genius.”

After trading intense glares, Moria turned to Risir.

“I have a proposal.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s fight on equal terms.”

“Equal terms?”

“You’ll limit your magic to the 5th tier.”

“Moria, what are you saying?”

Pallarg looked disappointed.

“You once told me, Lord Pallarg. No matter how gifted someone is, they can’t easily ignore the wall between tiers.”

“Continue.”

“You don’t really expect me to beat him, do you? You’ll be watching how well I fight, how well I endure, and how I lose.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to show you what I look like when I lose.”

She faced Pallarg without flinching.

“Even if he limits his magic to 5th tier, his mana far exceeds mine. He’ll still have the refined senses of a 6th tier.”

She smiled with bold confidence, the look of someone with absolute pride in herself.

“Rather than showing you a narrow loss against an unbeatable opponent, I’d rather show you a victory against someone I shouldn’t be able to beat. Is that too much to ask?”

Pallarg stared at her for a long moment.

His sharp brow furrowed… then slowly relaxed into a grin.

“HAHAHAHAHA! What a cheeky girl! Did you hear that, Drey?! This is why I can’t help but adore this child!”

He turned excitedly to Risir.

“Your name was Risir, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Then, Risir, did you hear what she said? Will you accept her challenge?”

Pallarg’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.

“Do I… have the right to refuse?”

Risir answered without hesitation.

Thanks to their earlier exchange, he now had a read on how to handle Pallarg.

“You have the right, of course. But will you use it?”

“In that case, I accept her challenge.”

“…What?”

Despite his words, Risir gave his answer without pause.

Pallarg stared at him curiously.

Then why bother asking if you could refuse?

That’s what his expression said.

Risir answered.

“And… if I may, I’d like to make a small request in return.”

Pallarg’s brow twitched at Risir’s boldness.

Slight irritation showed.

“You’re a cheeky one, trying to gain something from all this. Fine. I suppose since you’ve been dragged into this against your will, it’s only fair. Go ahead, what do you want?”

“I don’t ask for compensation just for the duel.”

“Hm?”

Risir looked to Henya.

“She’s the one who dragged me into this duel. So I’ll bill her for that part.”

“Seriously.”

Henya shook her head with a sigh.

“…”

Watching this quietly, Pallarg heard Risir continue.

“So instead, I’d like a reward for winning.”

“For winning?”

“I’ll defeat Moria. If I do, I want you to grant one request of mine.”

“…And if you lose, surely there should be a price as well. What then?”

“That’s simple. If I lose, I’ll grant you one request.”

“…”

Pallarg studied Risir for a long moment.

Then his brow—still curved in a grin—began to flatten…

“Hahahaha!!!”

The room rang with explosive laughter.

Cold air surged as Pallarg’s emotions surged in kind.

For a brief moment, he lost his composure, his amusement and exhilaration too great to contain.

With a beaming grin, he said,

“A request? Me? asking you for a favor?”

“I may not look like it, but I’m quite capable. I’ve helped many remarkable figures resolve difficult problems before.”

“Hahahaha!!! Remarkable figures, you say!!! Marvelous! I’m looking forward to this!”

Pallarg laughed so hard he looked like he might die of joy.

Meanwhile, Drey and Moria stared at Risir, visibly unnerved.

It was one thing for Moria—Pallarg’s favored student—to speak boldly, but Risir had no such backing.

To be so cheeky with Pallarg, without any kind of safety net?

“Ah, everyone’s already here!”

Just then, a burly, friendly-faced middle-aged man entered the room.

It was Goose, the master of the Golden Barley merchant guild.

“Goose! I just thought of something that’ll spice up today’s banquet. Want to hear it?”

Pallarg offered an impromptu idea—to open the festivities with a public duel between Moria and Risir.

“Risir?”

Goose looked around in surprise.

Risir quietly raised his hand.

“Oh! Risir! You’re so young, I’ve heard about you!”

“You’ve heard about me? Ah, you must mean from Eron.”

“No, no! Not from Eron!”

“Huh? If not Eron, then—”

“Lok! You have no idea how much that boy talks about you! He says you’re a monster of a swordsman for your age!”

“…?”

A few people tilted their heads at that.

Swordsman?

They assumed it was a misunderstanding.

No one paid it much mind.

“Well, a duel between you and that genius mage who Lord Pallarg holds in such high regard? This sounds amazing! If I had the time, I’d sell tickets! But yes! As the host, I humbly ask the two of you to open the banquet!”

Later.

Back in a private room with Moria, Pallarg asked her,

“What’s your plan for this duel?”

“…”

Moria studied Pallarg’s expression and thought carefully.

Simply winning the match might not be enough to leave a strong impression.

Maybe it’s time to show “that.”

A trace of hesitation flickered across her face.

Showing that would undoubtedly leave a powerful impression.

The problem was—it might leave too strong an impression, inviting unnecessary scrutiny.

—Have you learned that power somewhere?

—Self-taught, you say?

—Then what did it feel like when you first used it?

—What sensations do you experience when you use it?

The former Tower Master was a man steeped in curiosity, and suspicion.

If she showed that in front of him, it would trigger endless questions and investigations.

But—

No choice.

Right now, what mattered most was making a powerful impression on Pallarg.

She could worry about the aftermath later.

Having resolved herself, Moria raised her left hand.

A frost condensed above it.

It was cold magic she had learned directly from Pallarg.

Then she raised her right hand.

A small whirlwind of wind magic appeared.

“…!”

Pallarg’s expression twisted in shock.

“Dual-element casting… how did you—”

“After you taught me, Lord Pallarg, I’ve been practicing diligently.”

“Practice? That’s not something your current tier should be capable of…”

“Didn’t you say before? That in theory, even a 5th-tier mage should be able to use dual-element casting?”

“…True. Theoretically, yes. But bringing that theory into practice requires a mountain of prerequisites.”

“So you’re saying…”

Moria had just achieved something virtually impossible.

“Moria, did you recently—”

“Is there something among your belongings—”

“Or when you practiced dual-element casting, did you feel—”

“What sensations are you feeling now as you’re casting both—”

Pallarg launched into a barrage of questions, trying to rationalize the impossible.

But the edge of his questions leaned more toward suspicion than curiosity.

It was less like questioning and more like interrogation.

Even so, Moria didn’t mind.

She had given up her 8th tier in exchange for youth and talent.

She understood better than anyone how unfair her existence was.

Unfair talent invites scrutiny.

And resolving that scrutiny is the duty of a genius.

“…Remarkable.”

At last, Moria successfully convinced Pallarg of her genius.

She smiled in satisfaction.

Now, if I just showcase my mastery of dual elements during the duel and catch him off guard—

Her preparations were complete.

“Who’s Moria?”

“They say she’s a genius mage that the ‘Frozen Breath’ has taken notice of.”

“Frozen Breath? You mean the former Blue Tower Master—wait, is he attending today!?”

“A genius recognized by the former Blue Tower Master… Poor Risir, having to face such a monster in front of all these people.”

“What do you mean? Haven’t you heard about him?”

The banquet hall.

A wide space had been prepared on one side.

Guests gathered around it, buzzing with excitement.

Soon after—

The main event began.

Moria and Risir appeared and took their places at opposite ends of the arena.

The crowd fell silent, eyes focused on them.

Pallarg stood between them as the referee.

“Duelists Moria and Risir. Are you ready to begin?”

“Moria, ready.”

“Risir, ready.”

“Then begin.”

With a snap of Pallarg’s fingers, a magical barrier enclosed the area.

Opening move, intimidation.

While also buying time to initiate her dual-element display.

Moria unleashed her mana with all her strength.

Cold surrounded her.

Then she looked at Risir and smiled provocatively.

Risir responded by unleashing his own mana with full force.

Moria judged that he was fully focused on her ice magic.

That moment—she prepared to shift to her dual-element casting—

“…!”

Her face twisted in disbelief.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm?”

“Didn’t we agree to limit magic to the 5th tier!?”

Moria shouted accusingly.

Because the mana Risir unleashed was filled with his essence and formed a swirling storm of sand.

Unique Magic.

Also called Arcane Magic.

The act of fusing mana with one’s own energy—personalization—was a feat reserved strictly for the 6th tier and beyond.

“Huh? Oh no, is that not allowed?”

To her very valid accusation, came an unbelievably off-target, clueless response.