Embracing Magic - E.M Chapter 66 (Part 2)

“Why did you stop?”

“It’s stopped.”

“What has?”

“The mana flux. Stabilization is complete. The spell is about to be cast.”

Rodin twisted his upper body to look back. His movement prompted the others to instinctively glance westward as well.

“Whoa!”

“What… what is that?”

An enormous firestorm had formed in the western sky. The flames were so massive that the west was as bright as daylight.

The blazing inferno, which seemed to dominate the sky, was slowly descending. It was heading toward the commercial district they had left behind.

“Fire Blast.”

“That’s Fire Blast? No way.”

“It’s ten times larger than normal, but it’s definitely Fire Blast. A 6th-circle spell. So the mage at the center must be a 6th-circle mage.”

“They’re using a 6th-circle spell as if it were an 8th-circle one.”

Such a spell was possible due to the massive amount of mana concentrated. Most of the mages who had gathered the mana were likely on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.

“Let’s go.”

“We can’t just let those Empire bastards have their way. They’re the enemy! The Empire has invaded!”

Marlon suddenly shouted. His voice echoed through the quiet dawn, loud enough to wake the entire town.

Whether it was out of revenge for being forced to flee at such an early hour or a noble desire to save lives, Marlon’s cry roused many from their deep slumber.

There was a stir, and people began to react, witnessing the sky outside their windows as bright as day.

“Marlon, I can’t tell if he’s smart or stupid.”

“Just keep running! Don’t stop.”

“Let’s go! Hiyah!”

“The enemy! The Empire has used a large-scale spell!”

Marlon shouted again, his voice reverberating through the streets.

Marlon had many similarities with Lant. Their height, build, and the fact that they were both muscular were all similar. From behind, they were indistinguishable.

But their personalities were opposites.

Lant was quiet and spoke only when necessary. Even as a young teen, his deep voice made him seem more mature.

Marlon, on the other hand, was playful and talkative. He constantly bickered with Ellice and was tenacious enough to hold onto an argument, refusing to lose.

“Hyah!”

“Yah!”

Many who were awakened in the dead of night witnessed the slowly descending spell. Some sought shelter behind sturdy structures, while others fled in the opposite direction.

* * *

Pol, the 11th trainee, and Hans, the 20th trainee from the first group of the Special Forces Training Center, were already awake when the Empire’s mages cast their spell.

They had secretly received a note in the evening, which they shared with their comrades, gathering around midnight to decide their course of action. They moved from room to room, engaging in heated discussions.

If the note was true, they didn’t need to be at the mercy of Sir Kite or Chairman Kellain, who had been sent by the royal family. They could take this opportunity to escape.

The problem was if the note was a lie. If they all ran away and it turned out to be false, they would be as good as dead.

After much debate, their discussion boiled down to whether they could trust the note or not.

Rodin, trainee number 108 from the third group, was already famous.

He was a prodigy who had become a 5th-circle mage in just seven years. Even the council found his rapid growth burdensome, confining him to the archives.

‘If the note was really written by Rodin, then its contents are trustworthy.’

This point was quickly agreed upon. The only issue was confirming whether the person who handed them the note was really Rodin.

“Hold on. I think I recognize 108’s handwriting.”

As they argued, Pol suddenly remembered attending a class with Rodin. He quickly pulled out his notebook from his backpack.

Rodin wasn’t stingy when it came to sharing knowledge. If it didn’t take too much time, he would readily give advice and answer questions.

The notebook contained traces of those times.

After class, when Pol didn’t understand something and asked, “What does this mean?” Rodin would often write down key points to help him understand in a short time.

Pol compared the handwriting from those notes with the handwriting on the note they received today.

“Huh? It’s the same.”

“Right? Anyone can see it’s the same handwriting.”

“Yes. This is definitely the handwriting he uses with his left hand. I’m sure of it.”

Having attended classes together for over eight years, Pol and Hans knew that Rodin was ambidextrous.

The notebook contained both left-handed and right-handed writing. The note they received today perfectly matched Rodin’s left-handed handwriting.

“So, everyone agrees then?”

“If it’s definitely 108, then it’s also true that the slave rod is fake.”

“They were trying to scatter us across different units, right? It’s probably because they knew the slave rod was fake, and they were worried about us sticking together.”

The first group had been deployed across various fronts for over a year and a half. During that time, they had fought many battles, not only against the Imperial Magic Corps they had been targeting but also against other Imperial forces.

With each battle, they gained experience, and their previously unpolished swordsmanship and magic became more refined.

Perhaps because of this, their ranks had grown. Originally, there were only two Tier 3 knights, but now there were four. Hans, who had been stuck at 2nd-circle magic, had become a 3rd-circle mage, and Pol, who had been a 3rd-circle mage, had greatly improved in his mastery of magic.

But the cost had been high.

The first group, originally consisting of 22 members, had been reduced to 17. They had lost their lives in battle.