A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 276

Chapter 276

There⁠ are two theories about the origin⁠‍ of magic.

One‌⁠ is the demonic⁠‌ theory, supported by‍ demons and the⁠‍ corrupt; the other,‌⁠ the dragon theory, upheld by the Cult of the⁠ Dragon God.

However,‍‌‍ only demons and‌ the corrupt supported‌⁠ the first, while‌‌ the second—the dragon⁠ origin—was the prevailing‌ belief.

Logically⁠ speaking, if magic⁠ came from demons,‍‌ humans would never‌‌ have been able⁠⁠‍ to learn it.⁠‍⁠

Invaders‌‌⁠ wouldn’t teach their‌ power to the‌ armies resisting them.⁠⁠

Therefore,‌ magic must have‌ come from dragons.‌⁠

Fernan understood this very‍ well.

Flash!‍‌

The‌‍ sky was covered‌‌ in black clouds.‌‍

Space‍⁠ warped under the⁠ massive flow of‍‍ mana.

Magical‌‌ waves swirled with⁠ an almost murderous⁠‍ intent to annihilate⁠ him.

In⁠‌ the midst of‍‍ that storm, Fernan‌ sharpened his senses.

The‍‍ senses of the‍‍ dragon perceived the⁠ flow of mana.‌‍‍

The eyes of the‍‌‌ dragon saw the‌ structure and formula‍‌ of spells.

A power so close⁠ to magical omniscience‌ that it could⁠‌ discern and comprehend‍‌ any spell—its structure,‌⁠⁠ its principle, its function.

Fernan⁠ thought such power⁠‌ could only belong‍‍⁠ to the race⁠ that truly ruled⁠ over magic—the dragons.‌‌‍

That’s‌ why, although he⁠ felt sorry for⁠ his opponent, Walter‍ Hanfmann, he didn’t‍ believe it was‌⁠ possible for him⁠ to lose.

Not⁠ with that power.‍‌⁠

He‍⁠ struck the ground‍ with his staff.‍

Zzzzzzt—‌‌⁠

Hundreds⁠‌ of steel spikes‍ rose from the⁠⁠ ground, forming a roof that covered‌‍‍ the sky just‍ as the lightning‍‌⁠ fell.

Crack!⁠ Kzzzzh!

The⁠ lightning roared downward,‍‍ but the metal‍ spikes absorbed it and discharged it‍‌ directly into the⁠‍ earth.

In⁠‍ the next instant,⁠ they crumbled into⁠ dust, transforming into‌ shimmering sand.

That⁠ sand surged upward,⁠ swirling into a cutting gale that surrounded his opponent.⁠‍

Zzzzt—‌

The‌‌ stadium floor began⁠⁠ to crack.

Normally,‌‌⁠ the arena of‍‌ the Dragon God⁠⁠ Tournament was reinforced‌ with a barrier‍‌⁠ so powerful that⁠‌‍ even advanced magic⁠ couldn’t damage it.⁠‍

But, as it was‍ said, when the⁠‌ main duelist was‌ an earth mage,‌‌ a special configuration⁠ was applied—the terrain‌ could only be⁠‌ altered by earth⁠⁠ magic, and after‌ the battle, it‍ would restore itself⁠ automatically.

Fernan had never questioned‍ how that was‌‌ possible.

Now,⁠‌⁠ for the first time, he understood.‍‍⁠

‘There’s‌ a fixed spell‌ throughout the entire⁠‍‌ stadium.’

A magical weave so‌‌ solid and complex that it was‌ impossible to leave⁠⁠ even a scratch⁠ with any other‌ type of spell‌‍ or impact.

It‍ only responded to‍ earth magic.

With the dragon’s eyes,‌⁠ Fernan could see‍⁠ the flow and‍‍ direction of that‌ energy, though he‍‍ still didn’t understand how it was viable.

‘Was‌‍ the first Pope‍⁠ really human?’

If⁠‌ the spell had⁠‌‍ allowed for an‍⁠ all-or-nothing alteration, it‌ wouldn’t have been‌‍ that surprising.

But‌ creating a single exception within a perfect structure was something that bordered‌⁠⁠ on the impossible.‌

And yet, that spell‌‌ had remained intact⁠‍ for over a thousand years.

Fernan‍‌ couldn’t help but‍‌ feel reverence at‍‍ the magnitude of‌ the magic fused‍ into that battlefield.⁠

And‌‌‍ at the same‌ time, he thought⁠ that winning might⁠‌ be easier than⁠ he had imagined.‍‌

‘Any other magic can’t‌⁠ damage the terrain.’⁠⁠⁠

Maybe‍‍ someone could do‌ it in theory,‌ but at least‍⁠ the two mages‍⁠ present couldn’t.

‘But‍ earth magic can.’⁠

So,‍ what if he⁠ sank underground?

In‌ that case, there‍‌ would be no⁠ way for them⁠ to reach him.‍‍

His‌‌⁠ body began to‍⁠ sink slowly into‌⁠ the ground.

Zzzzt—‍‌‌

He‍ felt strong resistance⁠⁠‍ and a strange⁠‌ sensation.

‘I⁠ see. They sealed‍‌ it to maintain‍‌‍ balance.’

Although‍⁠⁠ earth immersion was‍ an earth magic‍ technique, the field‌‍ prevented a human‌‍‌ body from physically⁠ penetrating it.

That’s‌ why no one‌‌⁠ had ever complained⁠ of unfairness, even‌ though there had‍⁠⁠ been other earth‍⁠ archmages before him.‍

However,‌⁠ there was something⁠‌ the stadium had‌⁠ not anticipated.

‘Difficult,⁠ but not impossible.’‌⁠

With‌‍‌ the senses and⁠⁠ energy of a dragon, Fernan could‌ detect a tiny⁠ gap in the‍‌‌ spell.

It⁠⁠ wasn’t impossible to‌‍ exploit it.

While⁠⁠ calculating the impact⁠ of what he‌⁠ was about to‌ do, his figure‍ vanished.

Boooom!‍

A giant sphere of⁠ lightning exploded on⁠‌‍ the field, tearing⁠⁠ through the powdered‌‍ sand.

“So⁠ that’s what you⁠‍ were planning… but‍‌ I also…”

Walter‍ Hanfmann, grumbling as⁠ he returned to⁠⁠ solid ground, frowned.‌‍

“Where⁠ did he go?”‍

He‌ deployed his magical‌ perception, but detected⁠ no trace within⁠‍ the stadium.

How‍⁠ was that possible?‌⁠ Where had he‌ gone?

At‍⁠ that instant—

Clang!

A steel spear burst⁠ up from underground⁠ and pierced his‌ body.

But‍ the body vanished‍⁠ like an illusion;⁠ it was a duplicate.

A few meters behind,‍ the real Walter‍ reappeared, horrified.

“…Fernan‍‍ Pellenberg?”

At‌ the very moment he had cast‍‍ his spell, he had sensed Fernan’s⁠⁠ presence underground.

Was⁠ that even possible?

Wasn’t‍‌ the field of⁠ the Dragon God⁠ Tournament supposed to‌‌‌ be indestructible, and⁠⁠ no human able to penetrate it?‌

The‍‍‌ questions were irrelevant;‌⁠ reality was different.‌

Fernan‌⁠‍ was underground.

And⁠‍⁠ Walter had to‍ act immediately.

Kzzzzzzzt—!‌

“Then⁠⁠‌ I’ll destroy everything!”‌

Thunder‍ struck the earth‍ with devastating force.‌⁠

***‍‌

“Didn’t‌⁠ they say the‍‌‍ stadium was indestructible?‌‍ How could he‍ get in?”

“He⁠‍‍ really went in⁠ there… yeah, that’s‍ definitely the senior’s⁠ doing.”

“Could‌ that even be⁠‍‌ done?”

The‍‍ Dragon God Tournament‌‍ was one of‌ the greatest magical⁠‍‌ battles on the‍ continent, where mages‍‍ competed for the⁠‍⁠ title of Archmage.⁠‍⁠

But‌ now, in the⁠‍‍ middle of that‍⁠ arena, only one‍‍ mage was visible—Walter.

Fernan⁠ had vanished underground.⁠⁠‌

“This‌⁠ isn’t something we⁠ can brush off⁠‍ with a simple ‘because he’s Fernan,‍ he can do‌ it!’”

Aria‌⁠ shook her head‍ at the murmurs‍ from Aint, Verian,‍ and Gismond.

Unlike the knights, she⁠ was a mage;‍ she knew full well what that battlefield meant.

“That‍ barrier can’t be⁠ broken. No one,‍ except maybe someone⁠ more powerful than‍‍ the first Pope,‌‍‍ could alter it.‌⁠ But that’s never‍⁠ happened.”

“But⁠ you said earth‍‌ magic could modify⁠ it.”

“Modifying the terrain, yes!‌ But inserting your⁠ body into it?‌ No!”

Aria‍ smacked her chest‍ in frustration at Aint’s question.

“Do‍ you think there‌⁠‍ were never earth‌⁠ mages competing in‍‍‌ the Tournament? That‍‍ they never tried‌ going underground? Of course they tried!‌ They just couldn’t‍ because it’s impossible.”

“Aria’s⁠‍ right, Aint.”

The‍‌ saint, Jace Vines,‌‍ who had accompanied‍ Fernan and now‌ watched from the‍ VIP box, nodded.‌

“There’s⁠⁠ a spell that⁠‍ prevents a human⁠‌ body from entering‌ the field. Previous⁠ archmages and challengers‍‌ confirmed it—using the⁠ ground as a shield is impossible.”⁠

His‌‌ astonishment was no less than Aria’s.‍⁠

Surely,‌‍ at that moment,‍‌⁠ even the Pope‌‍ and the cardinals⁠ were shaken—something they‍⁠ believed impossible was‌ happening before their⁠ eyes.

“But he did it.”‌⁠

“That’s⁠‍ why I’m telling‍ you, Aint, it’s⁠‍ not as simple‍‍ as it looks.”‌⁠

“I think it is.”‌

Aint‌ scratched his cheek. He wasn’t an‍ expert in magic,‌ but he could‌‍⁠ understand how amazing⁠⁠ what Aria and‌ Jace Vines described‌‌‌ really was.

Still,⁠⁠‌ he thought—so what?‍‍

It‌ was Fernan Pellenberg.

The⁠⁠‍ man who detected⁠‍ the corrupts’ movements‌ before anyone, who‍ prepared, who hunted⁠‌ countless demons.

And⁠ now had even‍ devoured a dragon’s⁠‌‍ heart and gained‍‌‍ the power of‌‌ the demons’ adversary.‍

Could‌ digging under the arena really compare‌‌‍ to that?

No‌‍ matter how incredible‍‍ it was, if it was senior⁠ Fernan, surely his‍‌ world had more‍‌ possibilities than impossibilities.‍

“I‌‌⁠ think so too.‍⁠ If it’s Fernan,⁠⁠ it’s totally possible.”

Luina, with a piece⁠ of chocolate in⁠ her mouth, agreed‍‌ with Aint.

“You‍‍‍ don’t get it!”‍

“Think‌‌ of it this‍ way—it’s like a rookie knight trying⁠‌ to imitate a Royal Knight’s swordsmanship‌⁠⁠ after seeing it‍‍ just once.”

“…That‌‌ really does sound insane.”

“That’s‌ not just insane.‍ Even a genius‌ couldn’t pull that‍ off.”

“Wrong.‍‍ Fernan is doing‍⁠ it right now,⁠ before our eyes.”⁠⁠

The‌‌ knights were left‍ speechless at the‍ comparison, while Aint‌⁠ tilted his head.⁠‍

“But⁠‍ the senior already‍‍ killed demons. It’s⁠ not like he‌‌ just started wielding a sword. Shouldn’t⁠‍ he already be‌‌ considered a Royal‍⁠ Knight?”

And⁠⁠ not just one,‌‌ but two.

Even‌‌⁠ if Fernan had‌ said those demons weren’t at full⁠‍ power, they were‌ still demons.

“A⁠ Royal Knight imitating another Royal Knight’s‍ technique after seeing⁠⁠ it once might‍⁠ not be entirely‍‌ impossible.”

Luina‍ nodded.

“Still,‍ that’s crazy. Absolutely‍ crazy!”

In‍‌‌ the end, the‌‍ mages gave up‌‌‌ trying to explain‌ it.

They⁠‌⁠ thought so too,⁠ and there was no better way‌ to put it.‌‍

“…Brother.”⁠‍

Jace‍‌‌ Vines’ eyes deepened‍ as he looked‌ at Fernan.

He⁠‍ had known him since childhood and⁠‍⁠ always believed they‍ were close, but‍‌ today he looked‌‌‍ different—almost unrecognizable.

When‌⁠ had he changed so much?

Since he started hunting‍ demons? Since he befriended Aint?

He‌‌‍ wasn’t sure, but‌ what mattered was‌ that, since then,⁠‌ Fernan had begun‌‍ to stand out⁠‍‍ and rise at⁠‌ an impossible pace.⁠‍‍

‘To‍‌ be honest, I thought I would‍ become Archmage before him.’

Even though Fernan always‌‌ claimed to be‍ a merchant and‌‌ denied it, Jace‌ had known for‍‍ a long time‌ that he wasn’t‍ an ordinary person.‌

Nothing‌‌ about his behavior⁠⁠ was normal—every action‍⁠ was unlike anyone‌ else’s.

‘But‌‌ to earn the⁠ right to challenge the Archmage title‌‌‌ so soon…’

And‌ now, to do‌‌ what no one‌⁠ had done—submerge himself‍ beneath the Dragon‍ God Tournament’s arena.‍

‘Brother,‌ what exactly happened⁠ to you?’

Fighting‍ demons was one‌⁠ thing.

But‌‍‌ to become this strong just from that made no‍‍ sense.

An‍ epiphany? Possible, yes—but‍ everything has limits.‌

‘It‍‍ seems like you‌ obtained something…’

But‌ what? What the‍‌ hell had made⁠⁠ him so monstrous?⁠‍

For‌‌ the first time,‍⁠‌ Jace felt anxious.‌‍⁠

He had always believed⁠ without doubt that⁠ one day he‍ would become the⁠ greatest mage—even the⁠‌ next Pope.

But⁠⁠ seeing Fernan now,‍ he wondered if‍⁠ all that had‍‍ just been an⁠ illusion.

‘If⁠ that’s the case,⁠‌ I can’t just‌⁠ sit still.’

He‍‍⁠ knew that strength⁠‍ had to come‌‍ from Fernan’s desire⁠ to eradicate the‍‍ demons, and as a saint of⁠⁠⁠ the Cult of the Dragon God, which could not⁠ coexist with them,‌ he couldn’t just‍‍‍ applaud from afar.⁠

If⁠ he couldn’t surpass⁠⁠ him, he at‍ least had to‍‌ stay by his‍‍ side.

But⁠ if deciding it‌⁠ was enough to grow strong, then⁠ there would be‍ no weak people.‍

Jace‌ recalled an old‌⁠ map he had‍⁠‍ once found in⁠⁠ the Cult’s library.‍⁠

[If‍⁠ demons descend and⁠‍ the world falls‌⁠ into darkness, the⁠ saint of the‍ era must seek‌⁠ the White Dragon.]‌‌‍

[Find‍ the White Dragon⁠⁠ and aid the⁠‌‌ hero.]

A preparation believed to⁠⁠ be the work‍ of the first Pope.

As⁠⁠ no one was⁠⁠ sure if demons‌‍‍ would ever reappear, the map had⁠ remained sealed for‌‌‍ centuries.

But‌ now things were‍ different.

Jace⁠ had already deciphered‌‌⁠ the encoded inscriptions‌⁠‍ on the map.‍‍

Until‍⁠ now, he hadn’t⁠ felt the need⁠ to use it—but‌⁠ that had changed.‍⁠

‘Its location…’

It said it was⁠‌ buried somewhere in‌⁠ Esrin.

Jace‌⁠ clenched his fist‌‍ and made his‌‌ decision.

***

Just⁠ as Jace had‍ foreseen, they weren’t‌‌ the only ones‍‌ shocked.

“Your⁠⁠ Holiness, did you‌⁠ see that?!”

“I‌‌ must be hallucinating.‍ I’m seeing impossible‌ things, hoho.”

“No,‍ Your Holiness, we’re⁠‌ all seeing the‍‌ same thing!”

From‍ the Pope down⁠ to the cardinals‍ and priests, everyone‍ watched in awe.⁠

And‌ among them, not‍⁠⁠ a single one was a non-mage.⁠

The⁠‌ Pope, although he‍ could not formally bear the title⁠⁠ by rank, was⁠⁠ a great mage‍ whom even many‍ Archmages acknowledged as‍⁠⁠ their superior.

And several cardinals were‌ Archmages themselves.

Even⁠ so, all of them were baffled.

None⁠‌⁠ had ever managed⁠‌⁠ to pierce the‍‍ ground of the‌‍ arena through magic.‌

“…This‌ makes no sense.”‌

“How did he do⁠‌ it?”

It‌ was the magic⁠‌ circle of the‍ first Pope.

It⁠ had remained intact‍ for a thousand⁠ years without a single maintenance, and not even the‌ most powerful mages⁠‍‌ of each generation⁠ had been able‍⁠ to penetrate it.⁠⁠‌

And‌ now, a mere academy student had‍ broken through it.‌⁠

Well,‍ “mere student” might‍‌ no longer be‍ an accurate description,‌‌ considering he had‍‍ defeated demons and⁠‌ earned the right‌ to participate in⁠ the Dragon God Tournament.

“…Prepare‌‌ the investiture ceremony.”⁠‍‌

After a moment of⁠ silence, the Pope⁠‌ spoke.

An⁠ investiture ceremony.

That⁠‍ made it clear‌ who he considered⁠‍ the victor.

After⁠⁠‌ all, such a ceremony wasn’t prepared⁠‍ for someone already‌⁠‍ recognized as an⁠ Archmage.

“Yes,‌‌ Your Holiness.”

The‌ cardinals and priests‌ nodded solemnly.

To⁠ them as well,‍‍ the result was⁠‍ clear.

All‍ that remained was‌ to see by⁠ how wide a margin he would‍‍ win.

“Duke⁠ Yvon Pellenberg truly⁠‌⁠ is a terrifying man.”

To‍‌ have raised a son like that.‍‍⁠

And‍⁠ to have hidden⁠ that talent until just before he‌ attained the rank‍⁠ of Archmage.

“It‍‍ seems there are⁠‌ dungeons sealed by‍‍ the first Pope‍ that even we‍‌‍ are unaware of.”‌‍‌

Fernan’s‌ growth, his magical‍⁠ prowess, was such‌‍ that even the‌ most skilled mages⁠ gathered there couldn’t‍ help but admire‍‍ it.

But‌⁠‌ was he truly superior to all‍ of them?

Not⁠‌‍ necessarily.

Even⁠ among Archmages, there⁠ were hierarchies.

The⁠ Pope, though he‍‍ did not officially‍‌ hold the title,‍‌ was known as‌‍ the Archmage of‍ Archmages.

And‍ yet, Fernan had⁠⁠ achieved what none of them ever⁠⁠ had.

The‍ only plausible explanation‌ within their logic‌ was that Fernan⁠‌ had discovered one⁠‍‍ of the first‌ Pope’s secret preparations—one‍‍ connected to the‌‍‍ magic circle engraved‍‍ in the arena‌‌ of the Dragon⁠ God Tournament.

“Send‍ a letter to‌⁠ House Pellenberg immediately.”‌

“Yes,⁠⁠ Your Holiness.”

“I‍ want to meet with Fernan Pellenberg‍⁠‌ as soon as‌‌‌ the Dragon God‍ Tournament ends.”

“Yes,⁠⁠ Your Holiness.”

Because‌ of the bombshell‍ Fernan had dropped with his feat,‍⁠‌ the Cult of‍‌‍ the Dragon God‍ began to move‍‌ in haste.