How to Survive at the Academy - Ch. 243
TL: TangSanFan
ED/PR: Tanthus
***Bellbrook Subjugation Battle (11)***
As the swept away demons scattered in six directions, the high sky once again came into view.
Lucy looked up at the sky with her fading vision. Though she was on the verge of losing consciousness, she knew that a critical hit had landed on Bellbrook.
Throughout history, there were not many who could wield the highest-level elemental magic.
Furthermore, even among those highest-level magics, many were cast for siege purposes after days and nights of preparation.
Casting such a large-scale magic alone seemed like an act that denied the very study of magic itself.
Yet, Bellbrook did not fall.
Bellbrook’s scales, resistant to all kinds of magic, rendered even the most transcendental highest-level magic almost powerless.
As much as Lucy had given her all to unleash a massive elemental spell, Bellbrook roared in pain. But that was all it was – pain.
The horde of demonkind that filled the sky had vanished momentarily, but soon new demons flocked to a summoning circle called forth by Bellbrook.
Even after an all-out strike, Lucy’s efforts were becoming meaningless in an instant.
And there, standing atop the broken spire in the living square, was the Grand Sage Sylvania.
With a swing of her massive staff, she had dissolved the high-level Holy Magic ‘Spatial Veil’.
This sacred magic, which by twisting and bending space allowed one to hide in its folds, could practically ignore all laws of physics and deflect any attack temporarily.
Its drawbacks were its long casting time, limited range, and the caster themselves trapped within the layers of space, making it difficult to discern the external situation. In other words, it was akin to sitting with eyes closed in one spot, which makes it easy to be taken by surprise once the magic is undone.
Yet, the absolute defensive ability to be secure from any attack compensates for all disadvantages.
To have emerged from Lucy’s magic unscathed, without so much as a scratch, is a testament to its power.
And now, Sylvania looked down from the top of the broken spire.
Lucy’s once-white blouse was now dyed red, with only the hems of the sleeves and the skirts retaining traces of the original color.
The edges of her skirt torn, her white knee-socks were dirty and torn, no longer retaining their form.
Finally, a hint of animosity began to emerge in her usually distracted eyes.
With determined eyes, she looked up at Sylvania.
“The rate of magic power conversion.”
Having an innate sense of it, Lucy had finally caught onto Sylvania’s weakness.
Sylvania Robespierre, a pioneer of sacred magic and a genius of her time, possessed magical accomplishments unparalleled by anyone.
The same was true in the field of combat magic – abundant innate magical power, rapid calculation speed, and appropriate decisiveness.
With abilities comparing to great figures even in duel magic, the exhausted Lucy found it hard to cope.
But ordinary magic power and sacred magic power are entirely different in nature.
To bring forth ordinary elemental magic, one must disperse the current magic power and draw forth fresh sacred power – an inefficiency to the extreme.
Hence, it is difficult to use sacred magic and ordinary magic concurrently.
For the average magician, it might seem like there’s no difference in speed, but in battles between the mightiest magicians, that slight delay in the conversion becomes apparent.
A minute crack that can only be seen after dozens and hundreds of exchanges… but Lucy Mayrill had spotted it within just a few moves.
Sylvania Robespierre’s sacred magic, an almost cheat-like tool that ignores all affinities and unfairly subdues foes, is not without its gaps.
By using complex elemental magic to restrain her, forcing her to defend, then striking swiftly in the moment she casts her sacred magic, there might be a chance to win. Ed managed to drive a dagger into her shoulder by drawing out that moment in the exchange of magical power at the risk of death.
If it comes down to power against power, there truly is no chance of winning.
What remains is technique and sense.
Lucy Mayrill, blessed by the stars, has technique and sense far beyond the ordinary. She quickly devised a strategy to suppress Sylvania and drew upon her body’s magic.
But there was almost no magic left in her.
Weakened by the effort to neutralize Bellbrook and the exchange with Sylvania, even thinking about casting an intermediate spell brought a throb to her head.
In her peak condition, Lucy could conjure dozens of high-level magic circles with ease. Realizing how cornered she was, she scowled.
The shadow of death crept steadily up the back of Lucy’s neck.
The verge of life.
If one wishes to escape and flee, now would be the last chance.
To advance further and confront the foe would mean risking one’s life.
The brink of life and death.
Such words seem too distant for a strong warrior like Lucy Mayrill.
However, the golden-haired noble, accustomed to carrying the weight of life-threatening crises, casts a shadow that overlays Lucy’s form as if biting down and enduring until the very end.
There was no need to run away. She wasn’t the kind to care for pride or honor.
Yet escaping now wouldn’t be proper respect for that man… such a thought prevented Lucy Mayrill from even considering it.
Biting down in frustration, she gathered what little magic there was left and continued the fight, relying on skill and sense.
A series of basic wind spells, ‘Blades of Wind,’ flew towards Sylvania.
Sylvania scoffed and waved her staff to neutralize all of them.
Only high-level magic capable of substantial firepower would warrant evasion. Basic spells would not touch Sylvania’s body.
Nonetheless, Lucy didn’t care and flung her arms, manifesting the basic fire spell ‘Ignition’ around herself.
Walls of flames obscured the view and she executed the basic earth spell ‘Earth Wall’, hiding her body amidst the rising barriers.
By this point, Sylvania had realized: Lucy was truly running out of magic. Even intermediate spells, which should be deployed without reservation, were now being used sparingly.
The frequent use of basic spells was proof of this. Lucy Mayrill, resorting to basic magic? It was like watching a giant ballista firing tiny crossbow bolts.
As she darted between earth walls, Lucy thought.
──I can’t win.
──I’m likely to die here.
If that was the case, she’d at least have to take Sylvania down with her.
Ed had said there must be a way to stop the colossal disaster that is Bellbrook.
However, no mention was made of Sylvania Robespierre. The Grand Sage Sylvania’s revival was completely outside of Ed’s calculations.
Though magic duels fundamentally revolve around firepower, details matter greatly, shifting into the realm of calculations.
And the basic premise of those calculations in a duel is to prioritize one’s safety.
If one is prepared to risk their own life, they step beyond the realm of rational calculation.
In other words, it gives an opportunity to surprise the opponent.
Just once.
With her own life on the line, if Lucy can find just one opening to deliver a blow to Sylvania…
If that can result in a decisive strike to a vital point… at the very least, it would end the catalyst of disaster. The stake is Lucy’s own life.
Ultimately, someone else must bring down Bellbrook…
Lucy holds unwavering faith in Ed’s words. Bellbrook will be taken care of. Then, her own role is clear.
“Uh, Agh… Kuhuh… Kuhuk… Huh…”
With a face that could not tell whether she was laughing or crying, Sylvania landed from the tower onto the square.
She had realized that Lucy Mayrill no longer had the strength to resist… there was no reason to prolong the fight.
The earth walls entwined like a labyrinth, meant to confuse the opponent even slightly, but such tricks do not work on the mighty.
– Bang!!
The basic earth walls manifested through magic shattered with just an outpour of magic power.
The layers of flame and earth walls that composed Lucy’s maze quickly neutralized, and the sight of Lucy, bloodied and stumbling away in escape, came into view.
Sylvania raised her arm to conjure the final strike, manifesting elemental ice magic. Lucy, by this point, had almost no strength to resist.
And it was in that instant, an ice spear was driven into Lucy’s body.
Lucy’s body shattered into fragments and vanished.
“…?”
A person does not scatter into pieces like mechanical parts when pierced by an ice spear; they spill blood and organs. It had been an illusion from the beginning.
The wise Sylvania would not fall for such a one-dimensional trap.
Overwhelmed by madness, Sylvania’s rationality had nearly vanished, obsessed only with crushing the enemy before her, failing to consider that Lucy was also adept in quick thinking and adaptability.
The purpose of obscuring vision with earth walls and ignition was merely to buy time for setting up a new trap.
Creating a basic ice magic ‘Ice Blade’ springing from the ground, Lucy engraved the magic with illusionary runes upon its glistening surface.
Lucy had no magic left to cast proper high-level illusion magic. She had to resort to trickery, creating bait – the minimal magic she could manage. Instead, using a high-level illusion with its noticeable residual magical aura would have been easily detected by a high-level magician like Sylvania.
Therefore, she drew upon the last vestiges of her power to deceive her foe.
This was the battle style of the disadvantaged.
To deceive, to flee, to throw sand in eyes, to strike with stones, to tear at hair, to embed nails, to bite thighs…
Combat methods like these fill gaps of power through deceit and cunning, something a person like Lucy would never experience in a lifetime.
Lucy Mayrill had always lived as a strong force, suppressing foes with sheer power – that was the battle she had known all her life.
Therefore, such a tactic… was not something Lucy had awakened to herself.
– Crash!!
Bleeding profusely, Lucy, who had been hidden by deception magic, stood up behind Sylvania.
Sylvania startled, scattering magic power behind her, but even then, it was only an illusion of Lucy marked on the ice blade.
Lucy… concealed by the smoke, floated above Sylvania’s head.
Though her blood-soaked figure resembled a corpse, she was undeniably alive. From the smoke, Lucy sprang forward, her hands gathering all of her collected magic.
Atop the wooden hut in the camp, on the roof of the cabin, on the altar of the mountain’s summit, Loster…
At Iller Mansion, in the Battle Department’s training grounds…
The image of that man’s fight, which Lucy Mayrill had observed in a daze, was now etched into her eyes.
What filled those radiant eyes, sparkling as though filled with the stars themselves, was not the honorable fight of a mage, which she had learned from Glast as a child.
It wasn’t the kind of duel mages from the Magic Tower would perform with strict adherence to ritual.
Lucy Mayrill had lived her entire life as a powerhouse.
Ed Rothtaylor had lived his as an underdog.
Given that they had lived their lives in opposite circumstances, looking in opposite directions, their approaches to life and battle were bound to differ. They could not have understood each other’s positions – it was almost an inevitability.
And so, Lucy was fated to suffer a devastating defeat at the hands of Archmage Sylvania.
Exhausted in front of the great sage Sylvania, Lucy was in the position of the underdog. For Lucy, who could not understand the position of the underdog, the picture of her being oppressed by the difference in strength and falling to defeat was something she could have foreseen herself.
Yet, the way the world works is unknown.
The fact that the future is unpredictable because of countless unknown variables might just be the spice of life.
Like the silhouette of Glast, sitting in his armchair by the fire.
The decision made while wandering the northern forest, finding a wooden rest area to nap in by chance.
How a connection born from these circumstances eventually shaped the Lucy Mayrill of today.
In the succession of these strange and unknowable coincidences, Lucy Mayrill felt a sense of irony as she gathered her magical power.
– Fwaaah!
Furrowing her brow, Sylvania turned her head towards Lucie again. Attempting to swing her massive staff, she noticed the magic in Lucie’s hand glowing with a deep crimson hue.
It was divine magic.
Taking it one step further just meant it was a sign of a determination to see the end here.
Using divine magic at the brink of her limits was akin to a suicidal act. Sylvania had not anticipated that Lucy would push herself to the limits to use divine magic at this timing.
Perhaps the magic manifested was a ‘Time Prison.’ From Lucie’s perspective, who had to suppress Sylvania in one blow, she had to manifest a spell of suppression regardless.
If you’re caught once, you will be suppressed without fail.
But that’s only true when you’re dealing with an opponent who can’t use divine magic.
Discussing divine magic in front of Sylvania, an expert of divine magic, was laughable. Dispersing the gathered magical power and rapidly pulling out divine magic, if Lucy’s divine spell is scattered, there will be nothing left for her but death.
At that moment, as she attempted to raise her divine power to respond.
– Fwaahaaaah!
The crimson energy, cradled by Lucy Mayrill’s hand as she landed, dissipates.
Soon after, the red energy vanished completely, negated by elemental magic summoned by Lucy.
“What…?”
Sylvania was taken aback.
Switching from divine power to ordinary magic usually requires a wasteful step of dispersing gathered power.
For peak magicians like Lucy and Sylvania, such a delay is negligible – not even a second. A mere 0.5 second pause, insignificant against most mages, could be entirely different in a tense exchange of moves.
Forcing proximity, engaging in a battle of reflexes, Lucy’s strategy to exploit weaknesses bore a striking resemblance to Ed Rothtaylor’s combat style.
However, how did Lucy manage to transition her magic so quickly?
Even Sylvania, a master of divine magic, would experience a brief gap, but Lucy managed to switch powers without allowing even a moment’s lapse. Theoretically, it’s inconceivable.
But Sylvania, looking at Lucy’s exposed arm, clicked her tongue in realization.
She hadn’t manifested divine power at all.
What Lucy had unleashed was ordinary magic, which was substantially more than Sylvania’s divine power due to the absence of a transition process.
What appeared to be blood-red magic was not magic.
Affected by the flames of a burning fire spell, Lucy’s power only seemed to take on a crimson hue.
Lucy had set her own arm on fire – a simple ruse.
For a moment…but the scorched burns were evident. Surely these scars, which might never fade for a lifetime, would cause agony beyond the ordinary.
A decisive resolution. The initial two feints using illusions were traps set to heighten the urgency and prompt Sylvania to act hastily.
In this brief time, three ice spears coalesced around Lucy.
Though her tactics might have mirrored Ed Rothtaylor’s, summoning intermediate magic in mere seconds was only possible for Lucy.
Sylvania had little time left. The fakes Lucy used forced Sylvania to draw out divine power, leaving her with less than a second to gather more.
Even the divine power Sylvania could muster in that instant had its limits.
However, if used to defend against Lucy’s ice spear, it could prevent a fatal blow.
Though unable to manifest high-level divine magic, the accumulated divine power could be released to exert some physical force.
– Kwaang!
All of this thought process unfolded in less than a second…
And with the landing of Lucy’s ice spears, a great cloud of dust rose from the square.
“Kuh, huuk…”
Lucy, cornered, had put everything on the line for her final throw.
The last strike, which she had executed at the cost of scorching her own arm, had unfortunately missed its mark.
“Heuk… Heuk…”
Sylvania panted, grimacing.
The ice spear that had crashed before her had been forced off its path by divine power, missing her and stabbing into the empty ground.
But had its trajectory been a little less distorted, the ice spear would have cleaved through her skull.
Lucy’s aim had ultimately failed to hit the mark.
One last variable Lucy hadn’t accounted for was ‘luck.’
Despite coveting a broad attack range by unleashing all her power to create three ice spears, the distorted space caused by divine power had succeeded in diverting their path.
Lying on the ground, soaked in blood, was Lucy.
Sylvania frowned and gazed down at her.
In terms of sheer magical capacity, combat prowess, and the magnitude of power, Sylvania might surpass Lucy.
However, the ability to improvise under extreme pressure, to cling to that 0.1% chance of victory, was not something one could learn from a magician.
Sylvania shook her head and turned her magical staff back to the prostrate Lucy.
She was an adversary that must not be left alive. As this thought completely filled her mind, the glow in Lucy’s blood-soaked eyes flickered fiercely.
Suddenly opening her eyes, Lucy glared at Sylvania, grinding her teeth, trying to muster magical power again. The trickle was embarrassingly weak, but she used it as a crutch to lift herself up.
Barely holding her head up with her tattered school uniform, Lucy glared at Sylvania as she panted heavily, still exuding a will to fight.
Lucy thought to herself.
Even with death looming, she had no thoughts of escaping.
Even as the fear of death crept up her body, that man always stood upright.
She would do the same.
Having received a life, she would give her own for that man. Perhaps, in a way, that was an inevitable conclusion.
For even an extra 10 seconds… no, even one more second… if she could hinder Sylvania, if that could increase the man’s chance of survival by 0.1%, her life was a stake she could easily throw away.
Her resolve had never wavered.
Even as Sylvania manifested her power, Lucy stood unwavering without a tremor.
Contemplating any possibility to resist further… It appeared this was the end.
As the light grew bright, her vision faded. Lucy gently closed her eyes.
She felt the warmth of a campfire.
The image of Glast, once seen from within a cocoon of blankets, now made sense.
At the very brink of life, at the end of a life she once deemed meaningless…
Still, it was good to have lived. To be able to monologue that alone was meaningful.
She now understood the meaning of those words.
She had met a man, and for that man, she died.
If that could be remembered as a life with meaning, how valuable that existence would be.
And thus, a gentle smile could flow from Lucy’s lips.
Her vision continued to dark.
– Kwaang!
However, when she opened her eyes, the scene before her was not the afterlife.
It was reality, with people dripping with blood, still clenching their teeth to survive.
“Listen well, Lucy.”
When she realized she was cradled in the arms of a man as bloodstained as she was, amidst the rubble of a collapsed spire… her consciousness was already fading.
But Lucy knew the scent of the man holding her well.
Even amidst the smell of blood, the comforting scent of grass arose.
“No matter what, never accept death…”
The magic cast by Sylvania was temporarily paralyzed by the spirit magic of Yenika Faelover. Even though it was cast in haste, Yenika still had to grit her teeth to withstand it.
The first thing Lucy saw when she opened her eyes was Ed rushing over, tumbling to the ground to catch her, followed by the sight of his comrades blocking Sylvania.
They were Ed’s party, who had escaped from the royal quarters.
“You really held out well, Lucy… Truly… Thank you… But…”
Ed, holding the bloodied Lucy, was also covered in blood.
Both appeared barely alive, but still gritted their teeth to persist.
“We must resist death… at all costs… do not accept it…”
Lucy’s eyes widened as she looked up at Ed.
Enduring intense pain, he cradled Lucy and managed to stand.
“We’re fleeing to Ophelius Hall. The reinforcements… will gather there…”
Saying so, Ed gritted his teeth and took hold of Lucy, whose body was limp and barely responsive.
Looking up at Ed, Lucy felt tears welling up.
Was it relief to see that Ed was alive?
Or was it a sense of relief that somehow she was still breathing?
Perhaps it was both, and Lucy, clinging to her fading consciousness, could not help but let her tears flow.
Her face was a horrific sight, smeared with blood and tears, but still, Ed wiped her tears away.