Chapter 8: Who Will Bell the Cat?

In the world of mages, hierarchy is determined by circles.

Among the nobility, it was one of the few professions where rank was not granted by title, but by sheer skill.

In that sense, Tesalos Wolcher had just received the greatest humiliation of his life.

— Nothing special.

‘Nothing special? Is he saying a mage means nothing to him?’

The categories by circle were clear.

1st Circle: mana worker.

2nd Circle: spell blower.

3rd Circle: magic worker.

Only upon reaching the 4th Circle are you finally called mage; from the name alone, you’re treated as a true magician.

‘And that mere mana worker says “nothing special” to a 4th?’

Where did the 1st Circle even stand?

Not only did he have to bow before a 3rd, he was expected to treat a 2nd with utmost respect.

And that brat had the nerve to say “nothing special” to a 4th.

Nothing special.

Nothing special.

Nothing special.

Nothing special.

Nothing special.

That phrase alone had become an exposed nerve.

The circle in his abdomen was spinning tightly—he could fire magic at any moment.

He could have lost his mind and attacked right then, but Perda gave him a reason to be thankful—that 1st Circle brat had asked for a duel.

Tesalos decided to teach him a lesson.

They moved to a clearing for the match.

Both took their distance and prepared.

“I’d like to ask you something, do you mind?”

Tesalos answered bluntly.

“What?”

“What kind of magic do you use?”

“Asking about a spell before a mage duel? Don’t you think that’s rude?”

“Oh, really? Hm, sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve fought in a formal duel.”

That a 1st Circle could say something like that left him baffled.

‘Where did this arrogant kid come from?’

In that moment, Tesalos made a decision—he would crush him with everything he had.

Perda, for his part, wasn’t even thinking about him.

‘Now I remember…’

It had been over twenty years since he’d done a “duel.”

He had his reasons—in the last one, the mage humiliated by Perda came back at night with a mob to ambush him.

Since then, he hadn’t believed in fair fights—if a battle smelled wrong, he’d kill first.

‘A mage duel is like playing cards behind a screen.’

Without knowing how many or what kind of cards your opponent holds, you reveal yours one by one—through theory, skill, and wit.

‘If he’s 4th Circle, he can use at least eight spells in one battle, including one of 4th grade.’

Spells by grade require a minimum circle to cast.

If Tesalos was 4th, he mastered 4th-grade spells; his mana reserves were several times greater than Perda’s.

‘It’s like hitting a rock with an egg.’

Perda knew everything favored Tesalos.

Even so, he never once thought he’d lose.

‘I’m not foolish enough to fall to a mage who’s nothing special.’

“Since the handicap’s obvious, I’ll give you a hint.”

Tesalos sneered.

Free info—no reason not to listen.

“What is it?”

“I, Tesalos Wolcher, will use magic blast here. As a mage, I’m sure you know what that means.”

The lords watching from the side were the most shocked.

“Magic blast…?”

“That’s a raw power spell, isn’t it?”

A 4th-grade spell focused on destruction.

Precisely because of its brutality, a 4th Circle mage could counter it—but those below couldn’t.

For someone like Perda, a 1st Circle, there was no hope.

The message was clear surrender now, you wretch.

“Hm, I see.”

Perda tilted his head, then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll tell you something too. The only spell I can use is mana shot.”

“Mana shot? You think that basic nonsense will beat me?”

Perda waved his hand, unconcerned.

“Don’t worry about me. Unlike you, I know a lot of things.”

“You brat…”

Tesalos’s aura flared violently.

“I’ll erase you from this world without a trace.”

The bloodlust didn’t reach Perda.

‘So he has a red circle too.’

If unleashing emotion made him stronger, he was one of those who trained from a place of inferiority—someone like Perda himself.

‘This feels familiar…’

Like poking the bottom of a bottle with chopsticks—he had it at his fingertips, but couldn’t quite touch it.

Something tickled at his memory.

‘I’ll remember later. Now it’s duel time.’

As confident as he was, it was still a 1st versus a 4th.

He had already calculated his limits.

‘A typical 1st Circle can launch three mana shot spheres in total.’

Due to lack of training and focus.

‘I can form six. If I want to avoid exhaustion, the reasonable limit is five.’

Five chances.

“Huup!”

Tesalos’s mana concentrated in his palm.

The swirling energy formed a wide ring—the diagram’s circle.

Within it, the glyphs drew themselves from memory.

Perda felt the air brush his cheek—the killing intent was obvious.

‘He’s aiming to kill.’

Didn’t matter.

If the bloodlust didn’t reach him, it meant nothing. Since Tesalos wanted to end it in one shot, so did Perda.

He formed his spheres faster than Tesalos.

One per finger—five total on his hand.

While his attack was already set, Tesalos’s magic blast was still forming.

“It’s over,” Perda said.

“I won.”

With that declaration, the five bullets flew at Tesalos, tracing five arcs.

“What…?”

Tesalos froze—before he could even finish his chant, Perda’s attack hit.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Thud!

Four explosions and one heavy thump shook the area where Tesalos stood.

The dirt flew, dust covering everything.

Soon, everyone could see the result.

“Ugh…”

Tesalos, who had been chanting the diagram, collapsed with a groan.

His right hand, swollen and red, was trembling.

He looked at Perda and muttered hoarsely,

“I’ve lost…”

The arrogant brat of the 1st Circle—Perda had won.

***

Tesalos found himself facing a situation that could only be described as astonishing.

He replayed the scenes over and over, still unable to fully understand them.

‘That mana shot he fired straight at my face…’

The sphere, launched from his middle finger, had flown toward his eye.

If it had pierced his head, there would’ve been no salvation.

And though a red circle mage could momentarily lose focus, no normal mage should be shaken so easily.

But an attack aimed at the eyes—that was different.

Every human being, without exception, would instinctively hesitate.

That’s why Tesalos, while chanting his spell, had raised a defensive barrier.

He was a 4th-circle mage, capable of attacking and defending at the same time. The three bullets he thought were aimed at his torso should’ve been blocked by the spell.

‘But the target wasn’t my body—it was my diagram.’

They exploded right in front of the magic circle and shattered it.

‘He destroyed my diagram…’

It was then that Tesalos truly felt awe.

No matter how perfect a magic circle might seem, there are always blind spots in its mana flow.

If an explosion hits those, its effectiveness can be reduced.

But reducing isn’t the same as destroying. That level of mastery is reserved for 5th-circle mages and above.

And yet, that man had done it.

The diagram had been pulverized.

‘And to top it off, he launched a low-power mana shot at my right hand…’

By lowering its power, he made it clear he hadn’t intended to kill.

And at the same time, he showed that, had he wanted to, he could’ve ended it anytime.

All of that meant one thing Perda’s absolute victory.

Even Tesalos, with blood boiling in his head, had no choice but to admit defeat.

Even those who didn’t understand magic could immediately grasp what had just happened.

‘How is it possible that a 1st-circle mage defeated a 4th-circle one?’

‘Could he have cheated? Maybe someone protected him so the queen’s consort wouldn’t die…?’

‘If anyone could intervene like that, it would have to be a dragon…’

They turned toward Luri suspiciously, but she shot back a glare of pure contempt with her silver eyes.

“Could you take those looks elsewhere before I rip them out of your faces?”

“Ugh!”

“Ahem…”

She didn’t bother hiding her disgust.

Unlike Perda, she had no reason to be polite to them.

“Do you accept your defeat?”

“…I do.”

Tesalos let out a bitter laugh and added,

“I never thought I’d witness a master of this level here. The world truly is vast.”

He bowed his head with respect and acknowledged Perda’s skill.

“You’re also one of the most outstanding mages of the 4th circle. It’s fortunate to have someone like you.”

“Ha… it’s an honor for me too to meet someone so formidable outside the capital. Maybe being sent here wasn’t so bad after all.”

Upon hearing that, Perda’s body tensed.

“…Did you say you were demoted?”

“That’s right.”

“Because of politics?”

“Correct.”

The words tumbled through Perda’s mind—a red circle mage, demoted over intrigue, filled with inferiority, carrying the same kind of mana and thirst for revenge.

“What was your name?”

“Tesalos Wolcher.”

In that instant, Perda understood.

“Tesalos Wolcher… of course… now I remember.”

“You know me?”

Tesalos frowned, puzzled. He had no memory of having any connection to House Rosnova.

But Perda nodded.

“I do know you. You’re my benefactor.”

“Benefactor…? When have we met?”

“Not in the past. I’m talking about the future.”

“The future? What the hell are you—”

Bang!

He didn’t finish the sentence.

A huge wound opened across his forehead.

Perda’s index finger was still pointing—a mana shot had pierced his head.

“That’s why I can’t let you live.”

***

Those who witnessed it were horrified.

Perda had killed a noble.

No one could deliberately kill an aristocrat—not even the queen’s fiancé would be forgiven for that.

It was a heinous act worthy of punishment and condemnation.

But Perda had his reasons too.

‘Tesalos also tried to kill me. In the end, it’s the same.’

‘Was it… self-defense?’

The lords knew what Tesalos had done.

Driven by emotion, he had nearly fired a 4th-grade spell to kill the queen’s consort.

That Perda had executed him outside the duel was indeed improper, but Tesalos had crossed the line.

Normally, the nobles would have pounced like piranhas to tear him apart.

This time, however, they looked at each other without saying a word.

They all thought the same thing.

‘Among rats like us who’s going to bell that cat?’

Perda turned his head.

His face was stained with the blood that had sprayed from Tesalos’s skull.

The contrast between his expressionless face and the crimson splatter made the lords shiver.

He, however, was unaware.

He had no energy left to care.

‘I feel dizzy…’

He had used up every last drop of mana.

Leaving even 1% or draining it all made a world of difference.

Perda had chosen to squeeze out everything, and now he was suffering the backlash—headache, dizziness, trouble staying upright.

That’s why his face looked like one twisted with rage.

“Why are you all staring at me like that?”

“Th-that’s…”

Their eyes drifted to Tesalos’s corpse.

Then Perda understood.

“Oh, because of Tesalos? Don’t worry about it. He was someone who deserved to die long ago.”

He swayed like a drunk.

A tic twitched across his face.

“If he’d stayed alive, he would’ve done something that hurt the queen.”

“The queen… you say?”

“Yes. She is kind. She loves humans and fights for them.”

At that moment, pain tore through him.

His neutral expression twisted into a savage scowl, as if seething with hatred.

“I can’t stand anyone who makes her suffer.”

“You mean House Wolcher was going to…”

“No, not yet. But sooner or later, they would’ve. And I couldn’t allow it.”

The nobles were even more bewildered.

‘What the hell is he saying?’

‘So they didn’t do it, but he says they would have?’

‘The future consort of the queen is completely out of his mind.’

Cold sweat ran down their backs.

He was utterly unpredictable.

Perda noticed their fear and tried to reassure them once more.

“Don’t worry. I truly don’t care what you all do.”

Serious. Direct.

Who among them would dare bell this mad cat?