Chapter 529 – Succession
Mado
It was a path that could only be pioneered because, in the Abyss of Mado that he entered during the Administrator's magic duel, he chose nothing.
A magical essence that deviates from the basic computational system—the foundation of all Mages—where one induces changes in magic power through imagination and freely manifests spells.
This aggregate of possibilities, based on magical comprehension, allowed Verden to partially imitate the unique Mado of others.
For the most part, it was elemental magic, in which he had specialized nearly his entire life, and the pure manipulation of magic power.
The Demon King's method of mana operation,
Legrit Narsilia's mana control, and
The spatial magic he half-heartedly reproduced after glimpsing Elder Sheorn's Mado, who managed the Library of the Ark.
The successive spatial teleportation waves of Unia's satellite, Grave Rudworth, were also among them.
'Theoretically, even imitating Mado itself is possible.'
But a decisive element was lacking.
Mado is, in truth, the life of a Mage.
To regenerate its origin, one must understand what the Mage's enlightenment is, and to grasp the true meaning of that enlightenment, one must experience the Mage's entire life.
Even Verden could not comprehend a person's life just by looking at its surface.
It was the same even if he observed it for a lifetime.
How could he measure every thought and emotion that arises in each moment? Unless he lived that long life entirely, it was impossible.
'But the essence of Dahit Wethroel has taken root within me.'
Not just the sensory aspects, but even his thoughts and emotions.
From the moment he immersed himself in those foreign memories until he deliberately stopped thinking, Verden was undeniably Dahit himself.
The full realization of a Mado pioneered by another was no coincidence.
Fwoosh.
Verden endlessly gazed at the pitch-black flames flickering at his fingertips.
Mado of Deathflame.
Naturally, his mind sank as he ruminated on the essence of Mado
Then suddenly, he thought.
"…Will."
The incantations of magic performed by Mages who lived in the era before the first magic tower created the hierarchical system of spells.
Dahit deliberately destroyed half of his mana circuits to build a bodily structure capable of absorbing external magic power, and even erased the Mage's safety mechanism that suppressed the hierarchy.
The latter was to replicate as closely as possible the physical state of the ancient Mage within the ice.
'Thus Dahit succeeded in invoking the third Superlative Magic,
From what Verden confirmed in memories he had read days ago, the words of the chant themselves carried no meaning.
Only the power within the voice of the incantation, that is, the will, was everything.
In truth, there existed no method for a human Transcendent to wield the purely untainted magic power of nature in its entirety.
Because they were not Elves.
Even so, Dahit was convinced, and poured forth his plea filled with resolute will.
It was the culmination of research, speculation, and intuition—that this must have been the foundation of magic that once abounded in that distant era.
As a result, the spell was completed.
As though the world itself had answered.
Though the causality was never revealed, this nonetheless proved that the system of magical incantation truly existed, thanks to Dahit.
This discovery was sure to become a subject of immense study within the magical world for some time.
'But to me, it is meaningless.'
Because, just as incantation appeals through will, the Mado of Infinity also manifests magic by directly connecting with will.
In other words, Verden was no different from incanting himself. If anything, it might be described as chantless incantation.
'More importantly, what am I to do with this?'
Breaking free from his thoughts, Verden slowly attempted to manipulate the black flame before his eyes. It was not easy. It moved sluggishly, as though his body were submerged in water.
Even though he manifested it through the Mado of Infinity, perhaps because it was a Transcendent's Mado imbued with the concept of annihilation, its control was extremely arduous.
'In this state, dreaming of using it in real battle is impossible.'
So, what must be done to wield this annihilating flame with proficiency?
"…!"
One possibility flashed across his mind.
Verden immediately ended his meditation and rose, passing through the Golem Laboratory's corridor, the first power room, the second power room, and entered the Administrator's chamber.
The first thing to catch his eyes were the ten ruined steps and the gray throne atop them, marred by the fierce magic duel.
The Administrator.
Though he was but a fragment of the Demon King and not a true living being, to Verden, he was the mentor who had imparted Arcane.
The time they shared had been short, but unforgettable.
Ascending the stairs, he headed toward the secret chamber behind the throne—the place where the Demon King's robe, [Ainber], had once been kept.
There lay Dahit, not in slumber but in eternity, having stepped into immortality.
Frozen in ice to prevent decay, the Transcendent's body still bore the scars of the magical duel Verden had named the War of Usurpation.
"..."
Verden lowered his gaze to look upon Dahit's right hand.
The artificial artifact, [Calamity of Revelation].
A black glove that Dahit had crafted solely for his Mado… Verden's Superlative Magic had obliterated the left glove along with the left arm, leaving only half of it behind.
'Yet this artifact has not died.'
Through its self-restoration function, it was slowly regenerating the lost portion.
If transformed into the shape of a staff and then returned to a glove, surely it would reclaim its original form.
"Am I allowed to take this?"
Verden's question drifted in the air. Naturally, no reply came.
Only Dahit's memory whispered.
We agreed, the victor would take everything.
***
In the Great Hall, countless figures had assembled in their respective positions. Not only the members of Black Hour.
Half the hall was filled by the Mages of the Society, summoned from across the continent.
For today was more important than any mission.
"Wow, so many Mages…! This is way more exciting than I imagined, isn't it? Come on, be honest with your sister."
"Quiet, Unia."
Seated in the front among the officers nearest the podium, Unia's eyes sparkled.
The young Magus, who had barely been in the world, could not contain her excitement at the magnificent sight she was seeing for the first time in her life. Cain, much the same, only pretended to restrain her.
As expected of twins.
"How about you two?"
"…I'm nervous."
"M-me too."
As Melard's disciples, Ethan and Rebecca—standing at the very front line of the Society's forces—answered Unia with stiff expressions.
Who could have known that the choice they made in Midros Autonomous Territory, when they met Verden and rashly decided to deliver the Society's mark, would lead all the way to this?
The two realized that the flap of a butterfly's wings could indeed stir a storm.
"Hm, somehow I've found myself within a Transcendent faction once more. This reminds me of the days of the Arnak Empire. I wonder how His Imperial Majesty and Grand Duke Rivandale are doing."
"Do you miss it?"
"I do, but this is far better. Here, I feel I can live a life even more meaningful than when I was the Empire's Warlord. And you?"
"Better than being a low-rank tower master, at least."
The Sage of Power, Osgar, who pursued a free magical world, and the Sage of Guardianship, Medrant, who shouldered responsibility for the magical order, weighed the future.
Even as such conversations passed between them, Grave, Alderneys, and the other remnants of Black Hour maintained solemn silence.
Melard watched the noisy atmosphere with a faint smile.
[…Angle secure.]
Alpha, hidden in invisibility, kept his gaze on the door as he activated the memory golems embedded in the constructs.
And at last, the moment arrived.
───Kwoong.
The massive door opened.
Countless consciousnesses were drawn to the low rumble of approaching footsteps.
Shadows fell across the floor.
Isabella and Adrian, fully armed, advanced side by side in perfect unison.
Behind them, Verden appeared.
Clad in a radiant robe of pitch-black unity that enveloped his entire body, a staff in his hand that made even Mages tremble, he strode forward.
"…!!!!"
Every surviving member of Black Hour from the Purge fixed their gaze upon Verden's hand.
The pitch-black glove.
Not one among them was ignorant of that weapon—Moonshade's unique armament.
Verden passed through the center of the Great Hall and halted before the steps.
Thoom.
[Interis] struck the ground, and the vibration resonated with a subtle dignity. His overwhelming presence imposed silence.
Melard, one of the first members, spoke.
"We shall now commence the Succession Ceremony."
The procedure was not complex.
One was all.
Heras slowly pushed her wheelchair. Approaching Verden, Melard personally handed him the Grand Hall's key.
"I, Melard Tastienne, also in the stead of Cayman Vermont who is not present here, hereby pass the First Authority of the Grand Hall into your hands. Do you accept?"
"I accept."
Taking the key, Verden ascended two steps, then turned. Before the eyes of countless Mages, he stretched out the hand holding the key.
This Grand Hall had been completed through the long labors of the first members, who also devised the method for registering First Authority.
The activation phrase was a single sentence.
"For magic."
Click.
As the key turned clockwise, the entire space trembled.
Engraved.
The Grand Hall recognized Verden's mana, registering his existence.
Officially, Verden had risen to the seat after Jeremiah Gawin. Dahit Wethroel had ignored the rules and seized through usurpation.
Yet the fact that he had registered the First Authority of the Grand Hall did not vanish… Therefore, regardless of the first members' will, the succession was decided, including even unofficial claimants.
Thus the third master of the Grand Hall was born, after Jeremiah Gawin and Dahit Wethroel.
"May the new leader rise high."
Verden stored the key in subspace and ascended the remaining steps.
At the center of the podium, upon the leader's throne—engraved with the inverted triangle and the sinister eye within, symbol of Black Hour once tied to Dahit Wethroel—he seated himself.
Next, Isabella and Adrian ascended the steps, each taking their place at the throne's left and right, closest to the leader.
In the heavy atmosphere, Verden looked down upon them all and spoke.
"I shall issue my first command."
Tense breaths echoed here and there.
While Verden had devoted himself to recovery, word of how he had acted in the outside world had already spread to every member of Black Hour.
There was no need to hide it here.
In the outside world he was the holy one of the Eastern Continent, Asher, yet his hidden true name was Verden.
A newly risen Transcendent, a mighty being who had reclaimed Black Hour from Moonshade himself—what would he order?
"From this day forth, vacate all branches stationed on the front against the Western Continent Magic Tower Alliance. Every last one of you is to gather in the Grand Hall without exception."
!
Vacate the entire battlefield…? Could it be that he intended to negotiate with Bohemirn Magic Tower and end the conflict?
After all, with Dahit Wethroel—the very mastermind of the power source runaway—now dead, that possibility seemed highly likely.
The war had dragged on for more than two years. The losses were immeasurable.
But no.
"Of course, I have not the slightest thought of ending the war with Bohemirn Magic Tower. Withdrawing the forces is merely groundwork."
Verden unleashed the Mado of Infinity.
"For the next five months."
From the glove-clad hand, Deathflame blazed violently.
Black Hour's associates, Melard included, were struck with shock at the sight of Verden manifesting Dahit's Mado.
"Within that time, we will annihilate the current leadership of Bohemirn Magic Tower."
Black Hour's third leader, Verden.
The war had entered a new phase.
***
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the continent.
Mages began to dream.
Dreams of a way to transcend the hierarchy.