Hubert pointed a trembling finger at Delmuth, who had stepped forward, and shouted. “W-What! Why are you coming out?” “Why not? Is there a rule against it?” Delmuth’s icy tone shut Hubert up. There was nothing he could say. Traditionally, tower masters and elders refrained from participating in duels for the sake of decorum. However, in ancient times, it wasn’t uncommon for elders to clash directly. With Delmuth’s entry, the atmosphere shifted dramatically once again. The Scarlet Tower’s mages were paralyzed with indecision, helplessly pacing in place. “Who will face me?” Delmuth’s piercing gaze swept over the Scarlet Tower side. Those caught under his scrutiny lowered their heads, avoiding eye contact. Since the Crimson Tower’s master had stepped in, protocol dictated that their counterpart, Hubert, should also enter the fray. But Hubert lacked the courage. Finally, Vanessa, her expression resolute, stepped forward. She had been designated as the final combatant all along. “No, don’t go.” Alfoy grabbed Vanessa’s arm, shaking his head vehemently. She looked at him with trembling eyes. “Alfoy...” “Not even you... No, not even our head researcher can win against him. Going out there would be suicide.” Sometimes, knowing one’s limits is vital. And no one knew Vanessa’s capabilities better than Alfoy. Perhaps her accumulated knowledge and innate talent surpassed Delmuth’s. But as things stood, her Circle was lower, and her mana reserves were severely lacking. No matter how exceptional Vanessa was, the gap in power was simply too great. “Still... there’s no one else.” Hubert and the elders couldn’t muster the courage to step up and were left trembling in fear. Watching their pitiful display, Alfoy bit his lip hard and growled. “Then don’t send anyone out. Let’s just forfeit.” “He won’t accept that.” “Then we fight together! There’s a better chance of survival if we all attack at once.” Alfoy turned and yelled at the other mages. “Are you all blind? Can’t you see? That bastard’s here to kill us all! He came here ready to wipe us out!” Hubert glanced at Alfoy with a mix of desperation and fear. “Alfoy...” “Get a grip! If we don’t fight, we’re all dead anyway! Get your asses out here now, you idiots!” Alfoy’s commanding roar momentarily stunned everyone. Hubert, voice trembling as much as his gaze, asked cautiously: “But... why are you stepping back?” Alfoy, his expression filled with resolve, was subtly inching backward, dragging Vanessa along. “...” Without answering, Alfoy froze for a moment before quietly taking another step back. As everyone remained stunned by the chaos, Delmuth’s chilling voice cut through the tension. “Hurry up and send someone out.” Hubert was paralyzed. No matter who went out, it was a death sentence. There was no one here capable of stopping Delmuth. Or maybe there was. At some point, Ghislain had risen from the spectator’s section and was now calmly approaching. “C-Count Fenris, please mediate. We must resolve this before it’s too late.” Hubert clung to his last hope. A full-blown war would be catastrophic, and he couldn’t allow the tower to be destroyed under his watch. Ghislain nodded a few times before addressing Delmuth. “They’re asking to end this here. What’s your opinion, Tower Master?” “Impossible. I have no intention of ending this now. Furthermore, I must remind you, Count, that intervening in a matter between mages would be an overreach of your authority.” Fwoosh! A surge of powerful mana radiated from Delmuth’s body. His refusal was absolute. The loss of his first disciple had enraged him to the point of no return. Delmuth had already calculated his next steps. First, he would crush the Scarlet Tower under the pretext of a mage conflict, then deal with Count Fenris afterward. It would be far easier to kill them all this way. Ghislain nodded again, turning to Hubert. “Technically, the Tower Master isn’t wrong. Tradition does limit how much I can interfere.” ‘Tradition? This bastard doesn’t care about tradition!’ Hubert felt lightheaded. For Ghislain, who disregarded convention like no other, to suddenly invoke tradition was absurd. If Ghislain didn’t step in, they’d have to fight, and their opponent was a 7th-Circle mage. Sending a disciple to face Delmuth was sending them to their death. Even Vanessa, now considered an outsider, wouldn’t stand a chance. Hubert looked at the elders, but they all shook their heads, panic etched on their faces. ‘Is this really the end of our tower in my generation?’ In the end, he would have to go out himself. While he could last longer than the others, Delmuth would undoubtedly aim to kill him. ‘That bastard intends to annihilate our tower completely.’ Delmuth’s brazen actions, even with Count Fenris present, suggested he had a strategy for handling any political backlash. ‘What should I do? Do we really have to fight this battle?’ Hubert couldn’t send anyone to their death, but he didn’t want to die himself. Even if someone sacrificed themselves, there was no guarantee the duel would end there. It seemed like the only solution was an all-out battle. One of the two towers had to be destroyed for this to be over. Resigned, Hubert looked at Ghislain with a sorrowful expression. “Count, you should withdraw. It seems this will have to end today.” Ghislain, however, remained unbothered and replied casually. “If you’re uncertain, why not use a guest mage?” “A guest mage? Vanessa is only 6th-Circle. She can’t win, but if you insist...” “No, not her. Another mage.” “Who...?” Ghislain’s lips curled into a serene smile. “I’ll go.” “What?” Before Hubert could react, Ghislain stepped forward. “I’ll participate in this duel as a guest mage of the Scarlet Tower.” Delmuth’s brow furrowed at the absurdity of the declaration. Was this some kind of joke? “Count, stop playing games. Do you think this will pause the duel?” “This isn’t a joke. I’m saying I’ll fight.” “This is a duel between mages. You’re not a mage.” “Says who? Who said I’m not a mage?” “What?” A cold smile crept onto Ghislain’s face. “I’m a mage too.” Hubert and the elders all thought the same thing at once. ‘Oh no, here he goes again.’ It was helpful that Ghislain had stepped in, but this nonsense was too much. If he was going to bluff, couldn’t he at least make it sound plausible? Ignoring their reactions, Ghislain raised his arms slowly. Fwoosh! Behind him, numerous blazing, crimson-black spears materialized, floating ominously in the air. Every jaw dropped. “W-What the hell? What kind of magic is that?” “I-It feels like mana... but not quite...” “Is Count Fenris really a mage?” The power Ghislain wielded was a mix of mana and spirit energy, a unique force that defied conventional understanding. It was based on his personal mana, making it hard for traditional mages to comprehend. But the sheer presence of the spears was undeniable. Only a mage could wield such a display of power. Even Delmuth was momentarily taken aback. “That bastard... uses magic?” There had been no such rumors from the Marquis or Duke’s factions. Even in the war, no one had mentioned this ability. ‘They said he was a skilled knight, but this...’ The aura radiating from Ghislain was overwhelming. This was no skill gained overnight. ‘Was he hiding his strength all this time?’ Delmuth had always thought Ghislain was an interesting man, but witnessing his power firsthand was astonishing. To think someone could hide such abilities and still dominate battlefields and even defeat Count Desmond—it was beyond extraordinary. Delmuth narrowed his eyes, fixating on the mana-infused spears floating behind Ghislain. “This isn’t pure mana... What kind of power is this?” The energy felt chaotic, a mixture of something ominous and foreign. As a 7th-Circle mage, Delmuth instinctively sensed the sinister nature of the force. “Did he dabble in some fragment of dark magic? Not that it matters.” Delmuth sneered. He was one of only two 7th-Circle mages in the kingdom. Whatever power Ghislain had hidden, it wouldn’t be enough to challenge him. “I was planning to kill him anyway—this just makes it easier.” The sequence of events had merely shifted. Ghislain had willingly entered the duel, meaning no one else could interfere. Killing him first would make eliminating the others even simpler. By engaging directly, Delmuth also gained a clear justification for his actions. The political fallout could easily be managed. “This is the perfect opportunity.” Feigning disapproval, Delmuth spoke with mock disdain to solidify his pretext. “Count, even if I were to recognize you as a mage, it is highly inappropriate for a noble to meddle in a tower’s affairs—” “Hey, mutt of the Duke’s faction.” “...?” Ghislain’s sharp words caught Delmuth off guard. “You came here to kill everyone anyway. Why waste time pretending? Let’s just settle this between us.” Ghislain’s feral grin and casual taunt left Delmuth momentarily stunned. Then, his shoulders began to shake as laughter burst out of him. “Ku-kuk... HAHAHAHA!” Boom! The sheer force of Delmuth’s laughter carried his mana, causing those nearby to cover their ears and retreat. Even his laughter alone displayed the overwhelming power of a 7th-Circle mage. Delmuth’s eyes locked onto Ghislain, his voice laced with malice. “Fine, enough with the charade. I never understood why we had to do this the polite way. It’s all about power in the end.” Delmuth had only restrained himself because of Count Desmond and the Duke’s influence. Suppressing his destructive urges had been exhausting, and he had never truly unleashed the might of a 7th-Circle mage. But now, there was no reason to hold back. He had long dreamed of drenching the kingdom in blood, and today was the day he could finally let loose. The Scarlet Tower and Count Fenris had to be destroyed. “Today, you’ll all turn to ash.” BOOM! Delmuth began to levitate, his body surrounded by a shimmering aura of mana. Hubert, trembling, shouted in desperation. “Activate the mana barrier! Now!” Zzzzzt! The barrier shimmered to life, but everyone knew it was useless. The power of a 7th-Circle mage would tear through it with ease. “Fall back! Everyone, move back now!” As Hubert and the elders yelled, the Scarlet Tower mages quickly retreated. The Crimson Tower mages had already put a safe distance between themselves and the brewing storm. “Lord Fenris!” Vanessa tried to rush forward to help, shaking off Alfoy’s grip. But she was intercepted by Gillian, who barred her path. “Gillian! Lord Fenris needs us!” Gillian shook his head. He had already been briefed by Ghislain beforehand and had no intention of letting anyone interfere. “Trust him.” “But—” Vanessa’s eyes reflected her worry as she glanced at Ghislain. As a mage herself, she fully understood why 7th-Circle mages were considered superhuman. From the 7th Circle onward, magic transcended mortal limits, capable of altering the natural order. Delmuth was the most powerful opponent Ghislain had ever faced. Floating above them all, Delmuth smirked, his expression brimming with arrogance. “Because of you, everything in the North has been ruined. Today, I will deliver judgment.” Ghislain looked up at him and laughed. “Didn’t you just say it all comes down to power?” “That’s right. I’ll kill you, and then the North will belong to Amelia. With the East as the only exception, the entire kingdom will fall under our control. The civil war will end easily.” Ghislain chuckled. “Well, that’s convenient.” “What?” Ghislain’s eyes suddenly glowed a deep crimson as he grinned. “I like solving things with power too.” BOOM! The dozens of spears floating behind Ghislain shot toward Delmuth in an instant. Delmuth’s expression twisted in displeasure. “Arrogant fool.” With a wave of his hand, an enormous surge of mana condensed around him, distorting the air. “Fire Storm.” A massive inferno erupted around Delmuth, spiraling and weaving into a colossal storm of flames. FWOOSH! The fiery vortex swallowed the incoming spears and surged toward Ghislain, engulfing him entirely. “Lord Fenris!” Vanessa finally broke free from Gillian’s restraint and sprinted forward. The other mages, however, retreated further, terrified of the raging inferno that seemed ready to tear through the mana barrier at any moment. Everyone stared in horror. Someone muttered in a trembling voice: “S-So this is 7th-Circle magic...” The flames weren’t merely a spell—they were a calamity in their own right. “It’s over...” “There’s no way we can win...” “We should run while we still can...” Even Hubert realized the hopelessness of the situation. No mage here, not even all of them combined, could stand against Delmuth. The difference in Circles became painfully clear in this moment. “We... we have to evacuate. Request reinforcements from Count Brevant immediately—” “Uwaaah!” Hubert’s frantic orders were cut off by the deafening cheers of the Scarlet Tower disciples. BOOM! The blazing inferno split apart, and Ghislain emerged unscathed.