Chapter 269

Melding elemental and spiritual magic was becoming easier for Nick. He didn’t even need to actively modify spellforms anymore, not since the ritual. The mana simply followed his will, charged with intent and understanding so profound that it didn’t require structure to influence the world.He would have been more worried about being changed so fundamentally if he hadn’t been an active participant in the entire Greater Ritual. He knew what it had done to him, had intentionally sought it out, and now he was reaping the consequences with a smile.

It also meant, as he could now see clearly thanks to the strong winds that had scoured the ring, that he knew exactly what he was up against.

Emile hadn’t done anything especially impressive in the previous duels, but it was obvious the gloves were off now, and that the prospect of losing the duel was unacceptable to him.

The words echoed strangely, tugging at the ether in a way Nick was coming to associate with spatial magic, yet also very different from anything he’d seen so far.

had accomplished its purpose, forcing Emile to flee and use a significant amount of his mana to defend against the howling gales, but it wasn’t enough to defeat him.

Which meant that Nick just needed to up the ante even more.

Space distorted before his eyes, taking on a strange, shimmering form that his senses urged him to steer clear of. But since it somehow possessed the Tower's omnipresent quality, Nick knew that evading it wasn’t an option.

The spatial blade couldn’t be avoided by moving away. It was a fixed point in space, with a target—him—that it would reach no matter what he did.

The only option he had was to put something between them that it couldn’t mow through, and for all that his shield was very powerful, he wasn’t yet confident enough in it to risk everything on it.

No, a better idea was to learn a lesson from Emile and take advantage of their location.

Just as spatial magic was easier to cast inside the Tower, since it acted as both a permanent nexus and a prime example of the school's greatest achievements, Nick could also benefit from being the center of attention and emotions for three dozen people.

Thin blades of wind quietly traced lines in the broken ground, and an inverted Raidho formed around him, and an unseen wind picked up.

Many months ago, Nick had faced someone else who could control space at will. Dewdrop, the Smiling Death, had used her fae powers to create a separate dimension to trap the raiders. Although this was somewhat different from what Emile was attempting, it had a similar level of complexity and relied on the same principle of spatial separation.

Back then, he needed five people to serve as anchors, to give his mana the weight necessary to face the magic of someone who vastly outclassed him.

Now, Nick could do the entire ritual inside his mind and could draw on the emotions of every spectator to feed it, without having to rely on his own reserves.

It was a testament to how far he’d come that a simple rune was enough to give his magic structure, but Nick didn’t let that thought distract him. Instead, he focused entirely on the Ritual of Norse Homecoming, visualizing his return home after the dungeon raid and feeling anchored in one place as he crafted new protections around the Town Hall.

An inverted Raidho rune took shape, signifying a return from a journey, and marking the end of space.

And so it was. The spatial blade Emile had conjured shot toward him, swift and unstoppable. If he had attempted to confront it with a simple , it would have cut through the layers effortlessly, and his life would have only been saved by the Tower’s intervention.

Instead, space distorted as it approached. What Emile did was create an unstoppable object, something that would forever seek to reach its intended destination. To challenge it would have been foolish without almost unlimited reserves to crush it.

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That was why Nick didn’t. He only made sure that the principle behind the blade itself was satisfied, as the magic of the ritual told the blade it had completed its journey. The moment it entered the distortion field he had created, it disappeared.

A beat of silence followed as everyone tried to understand what had just happened, and Nick didn’t let the chance go by.

A hail of slammed into the shimmering blue barrier of the Tower’s wards around Emile, who stood frozen and wide-eyed, and the match was over.

“Winner, Nicholas Crowley!”

Noise erupted from all sides. Even though there were only three dozen people in the arena, it felt like a hundred. The first-year students went wild, screaming with joy at his victory, while the second-year students shouted in shock, confusion, and happiness.

Nick thought as he marched up to his opponent, who was just now shaking off the shock.

He almost worried Emile wouldn’t accept his loss, but they shook hands without any issue. “Good match,” Nick said.

He got a long look from the other, who then shook his head, his blonde hair swaying. “I guess it’s true that the sky never ends. The higher you climb, the farther you realize you still have to go.”

“Wonderful! Just wonderful!” Master Lasazar shouted as he joined, putting his hands around Nick’s shoulders. “We have a champion!”

The cheers echoed again, and Nick allowed the man to pull him away with a grin, despite the curious glint in his eyes. He’d let him enjoy his fun before he started talking about claiming his big prize.

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Dismissing the notification, Nick leaned back on his bed in the private room he’d been assigned on Master Tholm’s floor. He had gotten the War Magic Master to promise they would discuss the lesson he was promised the next day, and he had to spend several hours talking about the tournament with his classmates, explaining the generalities of how he had won without revealing too much.

Emile had been more gracious in defeat than he initially expected, given how determined he had been to win. But maybe, the shock of the sudden loss still hadn't fully worn off.

If Nick didn’t already have some experience fighting an opponent who used advanced spatial magic, he probably would have lost.

Not because he couldn’t have come up with a solution, but because doing so would have required more time, and Emile still had way more mana than he did by the time he won.

The only reason he was able to end things so quickly was that he was accustomed to life-or-death battles and seized the moment of shock that the other couldn't avoid.

The ritual of Norse Homecoming in its current form was fairly straightforward, involving a single inverted symbol that could easily be mistaken for runic spellcasting.

Nick doubted anyone would even consider the idea that he simply hadn’t broken Emile’s spell with a well-executed disruption.

Only Lasazar probably noticed it was more than that, but the man hadn’t said anything, and it wasn’t like the magic he’d used was forbidden. Just... unknown.

In the meantime, Nick needed to rest. His mana wasn’t low anymore, thanks to the several hours that had passed since the fight, but he still wasn’t back to full, and he was tired.

Five duels in a row had that effect, especially since he had to pull solutions out of his sleeve several times.

Unfortunately, it looked like he wouldn’t get a chance to nap because a familiar muffled presence approached his door.

With a muted groan, Nick stood up and telekinetically pulled the door open.

Master Tholm stood outside his room with a small, satisfied smile. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that one of my students managed to clinch the victory at this year’s Battle Magic tournament. Imagine my surprise when I was told it wasn’t Willow, but you.”

Nick sensed the mild reproach in his tone and slumped slightly. “Sorry, Master, I should have come to inform you personally.”

The old man nodded, “Yes, you should have, but I can see that you needed some rest to recover, so I won’t take up too much of your time. I just need to know what you want to ask Lasazar to teach you.”

Nick stiffened for a moment. He hadn’t exactly spent much time thinking about what his mentor would think of his request, given how strange it was, but he couldn’t lie or even mislead. Master Tholm had an uncanny ability to always know when someone wasn’t completely truthful.

With a sigh, Nick relented. There wasn’t much point in pushing back anyway. “I want to ask Master Lasazar for anti-demon magic. I read in his primer that he participated in some exorcism activities on the eastern coast when a pirate group stumbled upon a dark artifact, so I’m sure he knows at least the basics.”

It was, by far, the biggest gap in his skill set. Earthen mages seldom had to deal with demons, given their lack of sufficient mana to support extra-dimensional beings, and when they did, they mostly focused on contracting them rather than removing them.

The only group that did that and was often surprisingly open with their knowledge was the AIE, or the International Association of Exorcists. But that was an entirely different can of worms that Nick had never been interested in, not in small part because it required real faith to work, and his grandfather had always warned him to stay away from organized religion, since he was just as likely to be attacked for his occultism.

Genuine anti-demon magic was something he desperately needed. In just one year in this world, he’d personally encountered two true demons and was sure he would have to fight at least the tainted disciples of another.

Regular purification magic wouldn’t be very effective against a Prestige mage, let alone a demon that had a year to establish itself on the material plane.

Tholm stared at him for a long moment, clearly surprised. “I wondered what the reason behind your determination could be. I have to admit, however, that I didn’t see that coming. I was thinking you’d ask for some more advanced elemental spells, or perhaps even for a lesson in controlling the spiritual magic you are developing.”

Nick nodded along before freezing. He’d never told anyone that what he was doing was spiritual magic.

Tholm stared back with a thin smile.