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Infinite Mage Chapter 141: The Labyrinth of Time (4)

Chapter 141: The Labyrinth of Time (4)

The​​ mage returned with‌⁠ a serious expression‍‍ and conjured a sphere of fire⁠ between her palms.⁠‌

Unlike⁠‍ Amy’s multiple spheres,⁠⁠ having just one‍⁠ made it easier⁠ to increase its‍‌ density.

“He’s​⁠⁠ focusing the firepower,⁠ isn’t he? Desperate‍‌ to win.”

As‍⁠​ Amy predicted, the‌ mage was tense.‍⁠‍ Of course, she​​‌ had never quantified‍⁠ the power of‍ her magic, so​‍‍ it was uncertain⁠‌​ how high she‍‍‍ could score.

But⁠⁠ it seemed unlikely‌​ that she would‍‌‍ struggle to triple‍ the output of​​ a Lightning Arrow.‍

“Ta-ha!”‌⁠​

The⁠‌⁠ mage thrust her​‌⁠ hands forward vigorously.‍‍⁠

Under‌ the control of​‍‌ the mage’s Spirit⁠​⁠ Zone, inertia was‌‍⁠ ignored, so there‍‍ was no need​‌‌ for special motions‍ to cast magic.‍⁠

Yet,​‌⁠ adopting a shooting‌‍‌ stance was the​‌ mage’s flailing attempt​‌‌ to increase her‌‌‍ focus even by‌⁠⁠ a bit.

Amy‍ followed the Fireball​‍ with her eyes.⁠ The fabric of​ the maze absorbed‍​‌ the fire, creating⁠⁠‍ a whirlwind of⁠‌ flames.

The‌ mage looked at‍ the orb with⁠ hopeful eyes, but‍ soon her face⁠‍​ fell.

The​ score was 1,330.‍​‍ Just 310 points⁠ higher than the⁠⁠ Lightning Arrow.

A significant difference for‌‍ a swordsman judged⁠⁠ solely on physical‍‌‍ prowess, but in‌ the realm of​ magic where phenomena⁠​ were manipulated, it​ was much of⁠⁠ a muchness.

“How‍⁠​ could this be?​ No! It’s because‌​‌ the firepower was​ dispersed. It should​​⁠ have exceeded 2,000.”‍

No‍‌ one responded to​ the mage’s voice.⁠‌

The‌‍​ difference was too‌‍ great. No matter⁠ what, she couldn’t⁠ surpass Amy’s score.⁠​

The⁠ archer thought it​ was already hopeless‌ to pass through​‌​ here. The girl⁠​ who scored over‍ 3,000 points must‍‍⁠ be the highest​​ level here.

Even‍‍‍ a mage revered​ as sacred in⁠‍ the mercenary world​ scored only 1,330.‍ That she exhibited⁠‍ more than double⁠⁠ that magical power⁠‌ meant she was​​​ at least the‍ most talented of​​‌ her age group.‌⁠​

Rian​‌⁠ and Tess thought‍ similarly.

Not​‌ to belittle Shirone’s‌‌ skills, but Amy‍‍ was his senior‍​ at school. If‌‍ she, an advanced⁠‍ student, failed, it​‍ was expected that‍‍ Shirone would struggle⁠​⁠ to surpass her.⁠

Amy​‍ alone didn’t think⁠⁠⁠ this was the⁠‌‌ end.

“Shirone,‍‍​ you need to‍ take this seriously.​ It might just⁠‌ be a narrow‌⁠ miss.”

“Got‍⁠‌ it. I’ll give‍ it my best.”‍

The​ leader snickered, dripping​‍ with sarcasm.

“Ha!⁠ What good is‍ giving your best?⁠ It’s about the‍ results. It’s over.​‌​ Let’s pack up‌‍​ and go.”

Shirone⁠ realized something from⁠‌‍ the leader’s readiness‌ to give up​‍ without trying. The‍‍‌ fabric of the⁠‌‌ maze, known as‍​ the Eye of​​‍ the Angel. What‌‌ was her purpose​​⁠ in creating such‌‍ an altar?

The‌ fleeting insight had‍‌ to be shelved‌⁠​ for now. The​⁠ priority was to⁠‍ focus on the​ task at hand.‍

Shirone‍‌​ closed his eyes‍​⁠ and performed the‌​⁠ Sequence Method. A faint point of‍⁠ light emerged in​ front of him.⁠ Then, countless photons⁠ swarmed towards the‌⁠‍ center, increasing in‍ size.

“What,‍‌‍ what’s this? Photon‌⁠‌ Output? How is⁠‍ that supposed to⁠‍​ make an impact?”​

The⁠ mage exclaimed in​ disbelief. Yet, she‍‌​ couldn’t take her​ eyes off Shirone⁠‌‌ due to the‍​‍ unusual force not⁠‍⁠ typically seen in‌ regular Photon Output.‌‍‍

As⁠‍ Shirone opened his‍⁠‍ eyes wide, a fist-sized white sphere​ vibrated as if‍ furious.

Gritting‍ his teeth, Shirone‌ fired the Photon‌​‍ Cannon. The beam‌‌ of light stretched‍‍ at near-light speed,⁠‍⁠ striking the fabric⁠ of the maze​‍ as if to⁠ shatter it.

Even‍⁠‍ the mercenaries, who‍‌⁠ initially had low‍⁠ expectations, were captivated‍​ by the brilliance‍‌⁠ of the flash,​‌ anxiously awaiting the‍ score.

4,783.⁠⁠⁠

The‍ unexpected number made‌​ everyone’s eyes widen.‍‌‍

Especially‌ the mage and‍‍ archer, who were​‌ appalled, as Shirone​ had used Photon‍‌‍ Output.

Light​⁠ holds no special‍⁠​ firepower. It’s defined‌ solely by the‍‍⁠ product of speed⁠ and mass.

Yet,‍‍‍ the score was‍‌⁠ 4,783. To put‍‍​ it in perspective,‍​⁠ it was akin‌​​ to the impact‌⁠‍ of 20 warriors,‍‌⁠ each opting for​​ a strength-enhancement build,⁠ striking with all‍‌‌ their might.

“What‌ in the world​⁠‌ are those?”

The​ mercenaries began to‌‍‌ feel uneasy. They‍⁠ didn’t know the​ principle behind Shirone’s⁠ magic, but it‌ was clear that⁠ none among them‍​ could withstand it.‌‌

However,​​​ there was no‌‌⁠ time to ponder‌​‍ further thoughts. Despite​ the tremendous impact,⁠ the fabric of⁠​⁠ the maze proudly‍ emitted a red‍‍ light, indicating failure.⁠‍

Shirone‍⁠ felt drained. What⁠​‍ kind of orb⁠ was this?

Perhaps‍‌ 5,000 points were⁠​⁠ the passing threshold.‍ But it seemed‍ unlikely that the‌⁠ Photon Cannon could​⁠‍ be more powerful‌​ than this.

“I​ wish I could​ try one more​‍ time.”

Amy⁠ covered her mouth,​‌⁠ chuckling as if‌​ she had been​⁠ waiting.

“Ho-ho!‍‍ Do you understand‍ how I feel?‌​‍ I felt the​ same. But really,‌‌ how many points‍⁠ are needed to‌‍​ pass?”

“I‍⁠ don’t know. Maybe⁠​⁠ a laser would​‍ work.”

“Oh,⁠​ right! A laser‌ can accumulate energy.”⁠‍‌

Shirone’s​‌‍ laser vibrated molecules,​ increasing its destructive‌⁠ power over time.⁠ Theoretically, it could‍ destroy anything, making⁠​ it perfect for⁠⁠‍ this kind of‍ assessment.

There’s‌ a next turn.​ We’ll have to‌ try after a full round. What‌‍‍ about you? Are‌ you not going​​⁠ to try?”

Shirone​⁠‌ addressed the leader,‍‌‍ but he just⁠⁠ stood there, grimacing.⁠⁠‍

As‌‍‌ the scores escalated​⁠⁠ with each turn,‌ the thought of​⁠ stepping forward seemed‍ impossible. As a swordsman, his best‍‍ score might barely⁠‍‍ reach around 200‌‌‍ points.

“Damn‍ it! It’s over!‍‍ We have nothing‌‌ left but to‍‌‍ go back.”

The​ leader walked towards‌ the entrance with‍⁠‍ urgent strides, but‍ no matter how​​ much he twisted⁠​‌ the doorknob, the‌​ iron door wouldn’t‌ budge.

The‍ group turned around‌​​ in confusion to‌ see a man‌⁠⁠ with white tattoos‌​​ saying,

“You‌⁠‍ are one. If‌‍ one receives an​​​ assessment, all must‌ be assessed. You⁠ cannot leave before‍‌​ that.”

Understanding⁠⁠ dawned on the‌ group with the‍‌‌ archer’s translation. The​​⁠ rule wasn’t just‍‍​ about unifying will‌ but also about‌‍ actions aligning.

“Ah!⁠​ This is so⁠​ annoying! Why keep⁠⁠ insisting on something‍‍ so obviously futile?”⁠​‍

Complaints‌​ poured from the‍ leader’s mouth, but‍ to leave, he‌⁠ had no choice⁠​‍ but to prove‌ his worth.

‘So​​‍ it is. This‍ rule is truly⁠‍ cruel.’

Shirone‌‍⁠ felt a chill.‌‌

Why‍⁠ hadn’t he realized​‌ it until now?⁠ All the rules​ explained by the​ man with white​ tattoos were based​ on one premise.‌⁠

Trust‌ among comrades.

It⁠⁠‍ was a peculiar​ evaluation method. In‌ terms of firepower‍⁠‍ alone, mages had‌​ an advantage over‍ Swordsmen.

But‌ that didn’t mean⁠​‌ Swordsmen were weaker⁠⁠ than mages. Even‌‍ if a mage⁠‌​ could shatter rocks‍⁠‌ and cleave the​‌​ earth, a Swordsman‍ specialized in biological​‍ combat could slice​‌ through that mage‍‍​ in one stroke.⁠

Moreover,​​ measuring the power⁠‌ of magic was‌ problematic. If Amy,​⁠‍ specializing in long-range⁠⁠ magic, had attempted​‌‍ Sniper Mode, she‍ might have scored‌‌ much higher. But‌⁠ this place didn’t​⁠⁠ consider such variables.​​‍

The‌​‌ narrow octagonal altar‌​‍ and the eight‌​⁠ orbs.

‘Why⁠ eight? Just for‍ aesthetic balance? But‍ in reality, didn’t⁠⁠ we all evaluate⁠​‍ using just one​‍ orb?’

What⁠‍‌ was most peculiar​​ was the divine‍‍‌ language. The fabric⁠‌⁠ of the maze‍‍‌ measured impact and​ displayed it numerically.⁠

Why?‍⁠ What was the‌ meaning behind it?⁠​​

If‍​ it was to​ distinguish those heading‍⁠ to Kergos, indicating‌ pass or fail​ would suffice.

The​‍ score variance according‌‌⁠ to one’s specialty​‌⁠ could be vast.‍⁠​ In such a situation, requiring everyone⁠​‌ to be evaluated​ created a single‌⁠ emotion.

‘Obsession​​​ with scores. Anxiety​‍ when a comrade‌ scores higher. Disdain​‌⁠ when scoring lower.⁠⁠ Without a perfect‍ understanding of each‌‍ other’s roles, discord⁠​ is inevitable. And​‍ what awaits at‍ the end of​‌⁠ that rule is…’‍‍

The​​ sacrifice of one⁠​⁠ to send another.‌‍

Shirone⁠ took a deep‌‍ breath. What was​⁠⁠ the maze thinking?‌‍ This evaluation was‍ designed to pit⁠‌ them against each⁠​​ other.

“Shirone,‌‍‌ let’s just leave​​​ after this guy’s‌ done.”

Amy‌ whispered, tension evident⁠⁠‍ in her eyes,‍​​ perhaps sharing the​​ same thoughts.

Rian‍⁠⁠ and Tess also​ wore grave expressions,‌‌‍ sensitive to the‍‌ atmosphere emphasizing comradeship,‍‍​ and quickly grasped⁠​ the intention behind​​ the rule, which⁠ clearly disadvantaged Swordsmen.⁠‍

As⁠​ expected, the leader‌ was at a loss. He could⁠‌⁠ sense a change‍⁠‌ in his fellow‍ mercenaries’ gaze.

“Huff,‍ huff, aaaaah!”

Without​‌ pausing to breathe,‍‍ the leader charged.‌‍​ Although he was​‍​ sprinting, to Shirone,‌ it seemed as​​ if he was⁠‍ fleeing from something.​

Was​ his Schema fully‌⁠‌ opened? Where was‍​​ his sword positioned?⁠ How far was‌‌ the target? Without‍ knowing any of‌​ these, his steps⁠​ faltered, and he⁠ stumbled.

Gasping‌ for breath, he​ swung his sword‍ in a fall,⁠ and the imprecise‍‌ blade struck beside​​​ the orb, bouncing‍ off.

“Damn!”‌

The‌ leader, attempting to‌⁠​ escape the maze‍​⁠ and the altar,‌ hurriedly regained his‌ balance and turned‌ back.

The⁠ number 32 floated‍ there.

But⁠​ no one laughed.​‍​ The comrades’ expressions‌‍ were as if‌ they had faced‍​ a tremendous humiliation.​‍

“So​ what! It wouldn’t​​⁠ have passed anyway!​​ I did it,⁠ so let’s just​ leave!”

The‌⁠ leader exited the‍ altar with a forced bravado, but‌ his steps were​ directed away from⁠‍⁠ his comrades.

‘That‍ party is over.‍ They’ll probably disband‌ once they leave‌​​ here.’

Shirone‍‌ thought it was‌⁠ time to give​‍​ up. It was‌​ regrettable not to‍ try again, but‍​⁠ he couldn’t do⁠‌‌ more with the​‍ trust among the⁠ mercenaries broken.

“Could​ you translate for‍​ me, please?”

Shirone‍ asked the archer.‌‍ Even if they‌‍ were to leave,​​ he wanted to‌ confirm one thing.​

The⁠ archer, seemingly disillusioned‌ by the current‌​​ situation, readily agreed.‍

“Sure.⁠⁠ What do you‍ want to ask?”‌‍‌

“Has⁠​‍ anyone ever passed⁠⁠‍ through this gate‌‍ before?”

The⁠⁠ man with white​ tattoos nodded firmly.‌‌

“It’s​⁠⁠ a gate meant​ for passing. Its‌‌‍ not a trap.”​‍

“How​​ many points are⁠⁠​ needed to pass​‍ through the fabric‌ of the maze?”‍‌

“The‌⁠⁠ eight eyes of‌ the angel will‍⁠​ judge you.”

The​‌‌ man repeated his‍⁠ initial statement. It‍‌​ all came down‌‍‍ to the fabric⁠⁠ of the maze’s‍⁠ decision.

After‌‌ pondering for a moment, Shirone asked⁠ one last question.‌

“What’s⁠‍​ the passing rate‍​ of those who’ve‌‍ come here?”

“I‌‌​ don’t know exactly.⁠‌‌ Sometimes many come,‌⁠ sometimes just one.⁠ From what I’ve‍‌‌ seen, about one⁠​ in ten pass.⁠‍‌ The rate seems⁠⁠⁠ higher when they’re‌‌ alone.”

Shirone⁠‍‍ was startled. The‌ rate was much​‌ higher than expected.⁠‍

He⁠​ had thought there​ might be no⁠⁠⁠ passers at all,​‌​ assuming the maze’s⁠ design by Miro​‍ wasn’t just about⁠‌ assessing skills.

Of‌​​ course, that view‌ hadn’t changed. But⁠​ the man with‌ white tattoos clearly⁠​​ stated there were‌​​ passers, at a significant rate of​‌ 10 percent.

Shirone’s‌‌ smiling lips quivered.⁠ A shiver ran​‍ up his spine.‌

“Shirone,‍ why the sudden‍‍‌ change?”

Headmaster​⁠ is really a trickster.”

“Huh?‍‌ What are you‍‍‍ talking about all‍‍ of a sudden?”​‍

Although‌⁠ Amy was puzzled‌​ by his words,​ Shirone was too⁠ absorbed to respond.​‍‌ Alpheas’s voice seemed‌ to echo in‍‍ his head.

-Miro’s‍ world can be⁠ roughly understood.

Not​‌ roughly, but clearly.⁠ If one couldn’t‌​ overcome such a challenge, they weren’t‌​‌ meant to learn⁠‍ about Miro.

‘Sorry,‍ Headmasterr, but I’ve⁠ come to know.’‍⁠​

Shirone⁠ hadn’t given up.‌‌ He was determined‌‍ to pass through‌‌‌ here during the‍⁠​ trip.

Amy,⁠‍ noticing Shirone’s silence,‍‍ guessed his thoughts.​

‘Shirone‍​ hasn’t given up.’‍

Then‌‍‌ she wouldn’t either.‍ Initially, she followed⁠‍​ just to aid‌​ Shirone, but now​ she genuinely wanted‍⁠ to know about‌​ this woman named​ Miro.

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