Chương 50: The Archmage of Ardark

"Don't think you can trick me," Poshit said, eyeing down the elf.

"Even if I hadn't already discerned that you had [Infravision] active, I saw the way you blew open that wall. It was impressive. What are you, Tier 6? A full third-circle?"

"I'm sure you've seen better," the elf replied.

"Don't sell yourself short. I've taught some third-circles. None could have cast that quickly or precisely. You may even have the talent to break through to Tier 7."

"You're a teacher? Don't tell me you're the archmage of the Ardark Mages Guild. What was it? Amaya?"

"You may call me Archmage Poshit like everybody else," she said hotly. She'd always resented her parents for giving her such an exotic name. Growing up was rough, being made fun of by all the other children. It was always "Amaya this" or "Amaya that". The knock-knock jokes were the worst. She'd have given anything to trade names with her sister—Ayama never had these problems.

"Why are you helping these people?" he asked.

"Don't you make a good enough living as an archmage?"

"Don't preach to me," she snapped.

"You sound like one of those accursed priests."

"But—""And what about you?" she continued.

"You're throwing your life away to save those worthless weaklings—why? It isn't even going to make a difference. We're miles from the city. I'll have plenty of time to round them all up again once I'm done dealing with you. You'll die for nothing."

"Then I'll have died for something better than you have lived." She didn't dignify that with a response. Instead she began channeling her mana into a [Firestorm]—right at his feet. He too began channeling, but she was good at reading spells and could tell it was [Haste]. It seemed the elf knew the standard counter to [Firestorm].

"I see you've read the Amber Mage's battle manual, Standard Mage Tactics," she said. Judging from the way his face twitched, her guess had been spot-on. She knew that book back to front, so she didn't expect he'd have any surprises for her. She raced to complete her spell. Just because the elf knew the standard counter didn't mean he'd be able to pull it off. The fact that [Firestorm] could be cast at a distance was both its biggest strength and its biggest weakness.

This meant that you couldn't block it like you could a [Fireball]. But it also meant that the mana had to sent across that distance. Not only was this process very inefficient, but it also created a flux that alerted your adversary. It had long been known that an alert mage could layer on a [Haste] spell and dash away before the [Firestorm] went off. Internally focused spells tended to be the fastest and most efficient.

Of course this counterstrategy only worked if you could tell that the [Firestorm] was coming and where it was being laid. This was why every high-level mage trained their mana sense. It was the only way to survive past the third circle. It was also why all combat-ready mages, in addition to their mental training, tried to stay in good physical shape. Food was delicious, but not dying in a [Firestorm] was even better. The moment her spell was fully formed, she activated it immediately.

A cloud of fire appeared where the elf had been standing, so hot that the trees around him cracked and popped as their sap boiled. But he'd managed to dart away just in time, and she tracked his heat signature through the woods with her [Infravision]. He flung a [Fireball] her way, but she easily avoided it by moving along. She flung a few spells back. Mostly [Fireballs] and [Force Bolts], though she added in an [Air Strike] now and again to keep him guessing.

He was faster than she expected, but she was keeping up. If he thought she would be unfit because she was an academic, he was sorely mistaken. A [Fireball] exploded ahead of her, and another went off behind. None were even close. This was the advantage a Tier 7 archmage had against a Tier 6. Thanks to her [Invisibility], the elf simply had no good way to aim his spells. While he could track her mana presence, hitting a moving target was almost impossible without visual cues to anticipate her movements.

She took full advantage of this by ducking and weaving in random directions. The Amber Mage's battle manual recommended area-of-effect spells against an enemy you couldn't see. Accordingly the elf was sticking to [Fireballs]. [Firestorm] would have been another option, except there was no point even attempting it against a [Hasted] opponent—not without a trick that was beyond a third-circle mage to even attempt. Meanwhile she had use of the full complement of her arsenal.

This was important because it meant she always knew what was coming while he had to figure it out while the spells were already flying at him. These were some of the Amber Mage's basic principles—make the enemy work, wear down their focus, vary your spells, and don't settle into a predictable rhythm. It was simply unheard of for a Tier 6 mage to defeat a Tier 7. The disadvantages were too much—even before getting into mana levels and efficiency. Their running battle cut a trail of destruction through the forest.

Trees exploded or were snapped in two. Smoke bloomed behind them as they were fast enough to stay ahead of it. At one point they even cut across a road—the one leading to Ardark. At this time of night it was deserted. There weren't any travelers camped at the roadside as this wasn't a trade road, it didn't lead anywhere important, and the only people who used it were the local farmers and residents of the nearby villages, who would have returned home hours since.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The elf fled into the forest on the other side, and she followed in pursuit. It seemed he'd finally realized that the battle was hopeless. But she couldn't allow someone to live who knew of her role in all this. They fought on deep into the other forest, even as the ground rose up into the edges of the Lorear Hills. Poshit began to feel the toll of all her layered spells.

[Invisibility] and [Levitation] drained a lot of mana, and [Haste] wasn't cheap either. It was hard to tell how much mana the elf had left, since he had suppressed it down to the Tier 2 range. He'd only had [Haste] active, but at Tier 6 he would have started with lower reserves than her.

"What are you?" she demanded.

"How can a third-circle keep up with me for this long?"

"I'm going to give you one chance," the elf replied.

"Surrender and testify truthfully about everything and I'll let you live."" You'll let me live?" By her estimate, she should still have the upper hand, but she had to end this soon. But the elf was the first to make a move. She sensed it immediately, the heavy flux. It was focused internally, and she recognized the pattern as [Infravision]. But the spell form was intricate and dense, elevated to a higher tier. Despite being Tier 7, she'd only been able to get her [Infravision] up to Tier 6.

Achieving a tier didn't automatically grant you all the spells at that tier. You still had to earn each one individually with study and diligent practice. But not being able to cast it herself didn't mean she couldn't recognize it for what it was.

"You've been Tier 7 all this time?" she said in disbelief.

"Higher," he said. It didn't make any sense. Why would he hold himself back at a disadvantage like that? She didn't get a chance to figure it out before his spell activated, and he turned his eyes on her face and body. It was only when their eyes met that it finally dawned on her that she never had any advantage at all.

"It was a ruse," she accused, dropping her [Invisibility] now that it was pointless.

"You wanted me to waste all my mana."

"Is that what you really think?" She looked around, paying closer attention to her surroundings for the first time. They'd ended up at the bottom of a valley, nestled between two hills. Those hills now felt like they were closing in on her, trapping her here with this man. What was she thinking? She was an archmage. He was trapped down here with her. She began channeling. [Haste] might let him escape from one [Firestorm], but not three.

Multicasting like this was difficult, but it was something she'd trained heavily in, as a recommendation from the Amber Mage's battle manual once one reached Tier 7. It took all of her concentration, but she could just maintain all three mana channels at once.

"You have a lot of talent," the elf said.

"It's a shame that it's come to this." Her mana channels wavered. He was trying to distract her. She blocked out his words and focused. The wave hit her. It wasn't anything physical, yet it felt like her entire body was on fire. It was completely invisible, yet it was bright enough to blind her. She completely lost her focus, and her mana channels collapsed, and the incomplete forms of her [Firestorms] dissolved into the ether. It took her a moment to realize what he had done. He'd unsuppressed his mana.

"Wh-what are you?" she stammered, scrambling back. Somehow she'd fallen on her butt. His finger was pointed straight at her, and for the first time in a long while she felt fear, real fear, as the flux was thicker and heavier and mightier than anything she ever thought possible. This wasn't Tier 7. It wasn't even Tier 8. Could it be Tier 9? Or maybe even... She remembered coming home from school with tears in her eyes. The same tears that were welling up now.

She remembered finding comfort in the picture books of the elf with the beard, the one who'd saved the world and who inspired her to spend her life studying magic. Could it really be?

"You're the Amber Mage." He was clean-shaven, but that made sense, given he'd been in hiding for two hundred years.

"I grew up reading your stories. You were my hero."

"Then how'd you turn out like this?" The words stabbed at her heart. Had she become like the villains her hero had to defeat?

"It isn't what you think," she said weakly.

"Did you think I didn't see those chimeras? Did you think I wouldn't realize what you must have done?"

"It wasn't me!" she begged.

"I just provided security. I wasn't leading the project. I didn't hurt anyone." The flux died away, though she could still sense the spell form. Was it complete? She couldn't tell, and it didn't matter. There was no escaping from the Amber Mage.

"I'll testify," she said.

"I'll help you put away all the people responsible. Please, I'm not the person you think I am." When he next spoke, his voice was like steel.

"You were planning to round them back up." There was no time to react. For an instant, it was like the world itself was shaking. And then there was nothing.

Havlo dispersed the dust with [Gust]. His mind turned to Maelle and the people she'd rescued. Since Poshit was the only one who'd come out to round them up, with her death there should be no danger left for them. By his estimate, they should be almost back to the city by now. It had been easier than he'd hoped to lure Poshit out this way. While she was at Tier 7, it was clear that she'd spent her entire life buried in books and academia.

Without real-world battle experience, she hadn't been alert to the signs that things weren't as they seemed. [Disintegration] was the cleanest way to get rid of her. Any other spell that could destroy an archmage would leave behind too much destruction and raise too many inconvenient questions. Unlike the demon back in Lorelark, the resident archmage would be too well connected even for Lord Wanderbilt to bury this incident. An investigation was unavoidable.

While their battle had left behind quite a trail of destruction, no one would believe it was enough to defeat Poshit—because it wasn't. Everyone would assume that she'd run away to escape justice when the conspiracy unraveled. But he had to make sure he didn't use [Disintegration] where other people could see. He had to be far enough away that the mystery archmage back at the Dabaux estate wouldn't sense the flux of a Tier 10 spell.

Without knowing how sensitive they were, he'd taken Poshit out extra far just to be safe. It was a long way back from the hills, so he cast [Invisibility] and [Flight] on himself. But as he was rising into the sky, he sensed a powerful mana presence fast approaching. It was coming from the direction of the Dabaux estate. He sank back down to the canopy and checked that his mana was suppressed. The approaching mana presence felt like that of the mystery archmage's. Had he made a mistake?

Had he not taken Poshit out far enough? They were still miles away. He'd only been able to sense them this far out thanks to the incredible amount of mana being burned to accelerate their flight. If they were hoping to get here in time to save Poshit, it was already too late. He began layering defensive spells on himself in preparation for another battle. He had to assume that this individual was Tier 9, and possibly even Tier 10. Underestimating your foe was a good way to end up like Poshit.

The archmage had almost reached him... and then flew past overhead with no indication of slowing down. Havlo rose up into the sky and watched them pass. Should he chase them down? If they were involved in the conspiracy... Now that he'd gained enough height to see clear past the hills, he looked back in the direction the mystery archmage had come from, and saw, somewhere beyond the Dabaux estate, the thick heat signature of smoke like from a forest fire. Except at the base of it, there was no forest left.

There was only a field of molten rock. With a feeling of unease that he'd missed something important, he flew over to look for survivors.