Chapter 188

Chapter 188
## Chapter 188: Delusion (6)

Every 6-star mage who has crossed Derek’s path has left an indelible mark on his memory, for they are individuals who have shattered the barriers of humanity. Drest possesses the gift of peering into the future; Kalimford holds the power to summon destructive celestial bodies from the firmament; and Phee wields a combat capacity so devastating that he could single-handedly bring an entire aristocratic lineage to its knees. Engaging in combat against beings of such caliber awakens a visceral dread, a sensation that nullifies any thought of victory or failure. On this existential plane, a 6-star mage is equated with divinity; to challenge them is, in essence, an act of immolation.

However, Derek’s perspective differs from the general view. After having interacted with multiple exponents of this rank, observing them minutely and dissecting their abilities, he reached a clear conclusion. Despite the fact that 6-star mages boast a power capable of twisting the threads of causality, they have not ceased to be mortal. If a metal blade penetrates their skin, blood will flow. If they are decapitated, if their heart is pierced, or if they are deprived of oxygen, they will irredeemably perish. There exists only one individual who has managed to break this cycle of mortality. No matter how formidable a sorcerer may be, the fact that their existence can end with a single strike of steel defines the boundary of what is human.

— “Thebes! Desire!”

Under the glow of the moon in the northern training grounds, Derek lunged across the immense plain, gripping his dagger with an inverted hold. The figure hidden behind the hood retreated with agility, keeping his fists clenched with tension.

— *Boom!*

There was an instant where Derek felt his mind fading. Despite possessing exceptional magic resistance and being an expert in the tracking arts, his faculties seemed to falter before what his eyes beheld. The open space was suddenly filled with hundreds of replicas of the hooded individual. Although Derek had dealt with illusory arts before, the magnitude of this display was overwhelming.

— “Thebes!”

Striking the ground with force, Derek attempted to neutralize the copies using the combat magic “Freeze.” The vast majority of the projections dissolved like steam, exposing a single silhouette among the shadows, whose feet had been trapped in the ice.

*Hiss!*

Derek imbued his longsword with magical energy and unleashed a lightning-fast slash toward the figure. He combined the 2-star technique “Sword Manifestation” with the 3-star spell “Acceleration,” creating an offensive that seemed impossible to evade.

— *Crash! Hiss!*

However, the steel only cut through the air. There was nothing there; it was another visual ruse. In that briefest of seconds, the sorcerer had projected a new immobilized decoy to confuse Derek.

“Distortion arts are truly tedious. But this subject… he seems to lack strength in a frontal clash.”

Derek adjusted his grip and sharpened his senses. Applying the detection teachings provided to him by Drest, he explored the gloom of the forest, attempting to locate his opponent’s trail.

“I can’t perceive him.”

Even with his mastery of magic flow detection, Derek could not locate the hooded man’s presence. The scenario was adverse, as the threat of a surprise attack was constant, and the effort to maintain maximum alertness would eventually exhaust his physical and mental reserves. In a confrontation against a high-level being, speed is vital—a lesson engraved after his encounter with Archduke Beltus. Without a display of technique and ingenuity, Derek would have no chance against a 6-star mage who surpassed him in raw power.

While Derek analyzed his options:

*Zas!*

Suddenly, a hand emerged from the vegetation behind him, casting the 3-star combat spell “Fire Pillar” directly at his head.

— *Crack!*

Derek reacted with superhuman speed, managing to avoid a lethal impact, though the fire managed to damage his left arm. He rolled through the grass while trying to smother the embers on his clothes, letting out a muffled groan from the sting. He was facing an almost undetectable confusion magic that went beyond mimicking the environment. Furthermore, that fiery pillar was an exact replica of the spell Derek usually used. It was the same technique of using the opponent’s magical residue to counterattack, just as Kalimford had shown him. The enemy also mastered that principle.

Getting up after rolling, Derek ignored the searing pain of his burn and gritted his teeth. The individual in the robe waved his hand and vanished into the darkness once more. Invisible again, Derek was left exposed to another ambush.

“Direct combat isn’t his strength.”

With heavy breathing, Derek began to track his opponent at a slow pace. The fact that the mage had opted to replicate someone else’s spell instead of executing a higher-level technique gave him a crucial clue. This alleged 6-star agitator seemed to lack deep training in assault magic. He was unbeatable in the art of disorientation, manipulating memories, and controlling the psyche, but his attack power was limited. Even so, he handled level 3 or 4 spells with ease—something that for many would be the achievement of a lifetime, but for him was a minor tool.

A spark of enthusiasm ran down Derek’s spine. The vibration of measuring himself against someone powerful always pushed him to surpass his own limits. Being on the verge of reaching 5 stars, this fight against a 6-star mage, which for others would be a nightmare, represented an incalculable opportunity for him.

It was once said that Derek and Kochella were kindred spirits; perhaps with different goals, but sharing the same obsession with the mysteries of magic. Derek, though somewhat irritated by the comparison, could not refute it. Even facing this adversary of uncertain faculties, his only thought was how to assimilate those skills.

“I must remain calm.”

Derek stabilized his heart rate and focused. His rival possessed a capacity for deception that bypassed any sense, capable of altering memories and transforming into any object or person. To subdue someone like that, a large-scale intervention was required.

Concentrating his energy, Derek prepared the most ambitious technique he had executed to date. The earth began to vibrate, and cracks emerged, spreading from his position.

— *Rumbling… Bang!… Bang!*

— *Zas!*

A frigid atmosphere charged with tension took over the place. As Derek opened his eyes, the training ground seemed to freeze in time.

— *Crunsh! Snap!*

— *Zas!*

There was no escape; everything within sight was buried under a layer of ice.

— *Crash!*

Under the mantle of frost, the silhouette that remained hidden was totally paralyzed. Derek launched himself like a lightning bolt, sinking his sword into the enemy’s abdomen.

— *Thud!*

It was a precise strike. The robe was stained crimson as the metal penetrated the flesh. Just as Derek prepared to finish his attack under the rain of blood:

— *Whoosh!*

— “You’re in the middle of a dream, aren’t you?”

In the blink of an eye, the scene was restored as if time had wound back. The training ground was calm once again under the moon. The hooded figure was still there, unharmed in the gloom.

— “I thought that had been too easy.”

— “If you keep wasting magic like that, you’ll soon reach your limit…”

— *Thud!*

Without allowing him to finish, Derek’s dagger shot out and embedded itself in the subject’s right shoulder. Vital fluid spurted forcefully as the man shuddered.

— *Zas!*

Again, the environment plunged into shadows, erasing any trace of damage. The boundary between the tangible and the imaginary had dissolved. The witch’s power nullified any limit, giving her an appearance of invulnerability. But Derek did not waver. If the battle turned into a war of attrition, he would accept it.

— “You will not emerge victorious. You will exhaust yourself chasing mirages until you lose consciousness.”

— “Let’s see if that prediction comes true.”

— “Thebes!”

— *Zas!*

Derek’s weapon split the man’s figure once more. Thanks to acceleration magic, his movements were so fast they bordered on teleportation. However, the cycle of illusions repeated ceaselessly. Derek finally understood. He remembered Katia’s explanation regarding the highest point of the confusion arts: the 5-star spell “Reverie.” A technique that traps the victim in a perpetual dream of elusive shadows. This sorcerer had layered the spell hundreds of times to confine Derek in this fantasy. Fighting ghosts would deplete his energy. His magical reserves were not infinite; it was a duel destined for failure if prolonged.

— “It seems words are unnecessary. Either you let yourself be convinced by Kochella’s ravings or by Princess Rozelyn’s haughtiness.”

Finally, the man in the robe declared: “If there is no way to make you understand, I will have to eliminate you. You will be another sacrifice to coerce Kochella…”

— “Listen.”

Derek interrupted him with a cutting coldness. Until that moment, he had shown no reaction to the provocations, but his countenance changed drastically upon reaching a conclusion, pinning a frozen gaze on his opponent.

— “You are a fraud.”

— “…You can continue fighting my shadows for all eternity.”

— “I wasn’t referring to that.”

Wiping away the sweat and brushing the hair from his forehead with a sigh of annoyance, Derek showed an unsettling glint in his eyes that made the hooded man uncomfortable.

— “You are not a 6-star confusion mage.”

Derek’s voice denoted a contained anger. What was the reason for his anger? Precisely that his rival was not the master he appeared to be. Derek, who had prepared for a genuine learning experience against an elite mage, felt disappointed after discovering the subject’s real level.

— “That is absurd…”

— “You are far too mediocre. You are nothing more than a decoy.”

— *Thud!*

In that instant, Derek’s dagger sank deep into the hooded man’s chest. An unbearable torment ran through the man’s body as the iron scent of blood filled the air. The subject understood, too late, that this time his physical body had been reached. No ruse can hide what reality imposes. To cast his spells, he had to remain in the vicinity, and Derek’s perception had finally located him.

— “Guh… Hah…”

— “A true 6-star mage would have been invisible…”

— “…to my detection.”

The veil of confusion dissipated, revealing a wounded and vulnerable man. Derek withdrew the weapon and, with a kick, sent the subject to the ground.

— “Gaaaah!”

— “You have some skill, perhaps level three. It’s not something common.”

— “You… who are you?… I… I am a level 6 confusion mage… I…”

The conviction in his words made Derek understand the situation: that man had been manipulated by a witch. He truly was convinced he possessed that power; his desperation and his eyes did not lie. Derek approached and snatched away the hood, standing stunned at what he saw.

— “Guh… Hah…”

The face that appeared was extremely familiar to him. He was wearing a white shirt and a leather vest, sporting the quill badge of the Imperial Magic Advisors. It was Dalton, the only one of them who had survived. That pathetic figure who trembled in the Main Hall was the one trying to pass himself off as the witch. Derek cleaned his dagger while observing Dalton. He was just another piece in a tragic game.

A feeling of strangeness invaded him. Was this really the first time something like this had happened? In his mind, images of the other advisors who had died overlapped. Perhaps… Derek himself had been the executioner. There was a possibility that all of Kochella’s subordinates had been used as pawns before being discarded. Although the probability seemed low, the doubt remained.

— “Have you come with the intention of eliminating the witch causing disturbances?”

In the sovereign’s chambers, Kochella threw an ironic smile at Ryner in the middle of the darkness. The veteran of the Ravenclaw Academy, consumed by his magical passion, spoke with a refined and mocking tone.

— “As if I would stoop to using distortion magic.”

That smile, loaded with ulterior motives, made Ryner narrow his eyes with suspicion.

— “Advisor Kochella. Care for a wager?”