A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 77

Episode 77. The End of the Nightmare (4)

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Boom.
A massive claw struck the shield with a hollow thud.
The frontline defense fell to the Avalon Unit of the Western Kingdom Alliance. Composed of soldiers averaging Knight Rank, they thrust their shields skyward, desperately holding back Dadenieuf’s advance.
“We cannot let it progress any further!”
The defense force of Frilechicha bolstered the Avalon Unit. Though they were merely common soldiers, in this moment they burned with a single purpose: to protect their homeland.
Beneath the desperate struggle of knights and soldiers, a defense line took shape.
While the forward knights held Dadenieuf at bay, mages in the rear began their incantations. The torrent of Third Circle magic, interspersed here and there with Fourth Circle spells, made plain the true strength of the Avalon Unit.
Crack-boom-boom-crack!
A cascade of magical brilliance poured forth.
Dozens of spells collided. They clashed and burst, shattering against one another. Countless magics slammed into the creature’s colossal frame.
In the face of a magical display unlike anything witnessed before, the forward knights watched Dadenieuf with a flicker of hope—
“RRRAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!”
As the smoke cleared, they could not believe their eyes. Dadenieuf bore not a wound, not even a scratch. Its overwhelmingly massive body stood utterly unharmed.
The creature’s form blazed with an ever-deepening crimson light. The fierce heat that slammed across their faces forced everyone present to shield their eyes.
Kelli, the commander facing Dadenieuf at the front, swallowed hard.
‘What manner of demon is this…?!’
The Avalon Unit were veterans who had confronted the Shadow World countless times.
Yet even their desperate efforts yielded no effect on the demon before them.
Aura Blade had failed to pierce its hide, and every spell rebounded.
They had never faced anything like this.
No solution appeared. Despair settled thick and suffocating.
The demon possessed power beyond all convention.
“GRUUUAAAHHH!”
One of the knights shrieked as a claw impaled him. Blood sprayed across the Coastal Area, littering the ground with corpses fallen in just such a manner.
Though they managed barely to hold their ground, the soldiers watched their casualties mount while the demon remained unchanged from the start. Despair crept across their faces.
The demon was itself an impregnable fortress—and now that fortress moved, slaughtering soldiers in its wake.
“Is there no way to stop it…?!”
The defense line was on the verge of collapse.
The demon roared. Its red fangs, inscribed with runes, began to glow like flame. Kelli, who understood from past experience what that meant, moved to order a retreat.
But before he could, a massive explosion struck Dadenieuf’s head. For the first time, the creature’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle. The heat wave shooting from its mouth was redirected instead toward the sea.
The ocean split apart. The dark night became bright as noon in a single instant.
Yet there were no casualties. Not one soldier was wounded.
Dadenieuf rolled its eyes, seeking the source of the magic.
The blow possessed a force that might be considered the first true damage it had taken.
The source of that magic was Jord Exarion.
The sole Seventh Circle Archmage on the continent and leader of the World Magic Tower, he stood in the midst of the battlefield—unlike other mages.
“Master Jord!”
“I’ll cover you. Keep fighting.”
“But our casualties—”
“Don’t worry about that.”
A young woman’s voice came from behind.
It was Priscilla, whom the Artemis Church revered as their saint.
Eyes closed, she concentrated her spirit. White light emanated from her body, wrapping around the knights engaged with Dadenieuf.
Wounds healed in seconds. Minor injuries closed instantly, and soldiers with grave wounds rose once more, ready to rejoin the fray.
Wide-Area Healing.
It was a power worthy of being called a miracle itself.
The defense line, however fractured, began to stabilize.
But there was a price. Priscilla’s brow beaded with sweat, and her complexion darkened rapidly.
Jord turned to her and spoke.
“Don’t overextend yourself.”
“…I won’t.”
Jord turned his gaze back to Dadenieuf and began weaving another spell.
And so the battle raged on.

* * *

Romantica peered calmly through the scope.
The fight was in full swing.
Azest and Fram clashed against the Raven Mask, with Dezir joining the fray.
The battle was one-sided. Despite Azest and Fram’s combined efforts, they were doing little more than desperately dodging the Raven Mask’s spells.
‘That peculiar spell formula unfolding from his right hand….’
It was a grotesque pattern of magic, spinning endlessly and shifting form with each rotation.
The inscrutable spell formula unleashed devastating firepower in an instant, reducing entire buildings to rubble and pulverizing the streets to dust.
‘Even a single hit would obliterate the Closeline’s defensive power entirely.’
Dezir himself seemed to be struggling with the Reverse Calculation—ordinarily he would have had plenty of time left, yet the Raven Mask continued firing spells in rapid succession.
Bang! Crack! Crash!
The buildings lining the bustling street crumbled to rubble, reduced to powder, their bare frames left grotesquely exposed.
The mage before her was truly formidable.
‘All I can do is….’
Wait for an opening.
Romantica felt the cold touch of the Rifle pressed against her cheek.
The Raven Mask had detected the first shot and erected a defensive spell to block it. His reflexes and sensory perception were nothing short of extraordinary.
‘But I can’t give up because of that.’
Her opponent was not one to fall for the same trick twice. There would be only one chance.
Romantica suppressed the urge to pull the trigger repeatedly and kept her eyes fixed on the scope with measured patience.
Through the scope, she watched the Raven Mask effortlessly evade the blade strikes that Azest whirled at him.
Though Dezir and Azest had already deployed several spells that detonated near the Raven Mask, he seemed utterly unaffected.
‘A robe enchanted with Fourth-Circle defensive magic, perhaps?’
It likely operated on principles similar to the Closeline.
Yet even the Raven Mask seemed forced to exercise caution against Fram’s blade strikes.
Blood dripped steadily from a wound in the Raven Mask’s flank.
Fram’s Blangsium Blade, by virtue of its material properties, could pierce through defensive magic and draw blood regardless.
Thus the Raven Mask deployed Space Magic, hurling Fram backward and creating distance between them.
Dezir and Azest understood this. They therefore worked desperately to give Fram an opportunity to close in once more.
Azest unleashed the Frozen Palace, using her legendary reserves of Mana to bombard the Raven Mask with hundreds of ice spells, seeking to overwhelm him through sheer pressure.
But the Raven Mask was a mage deeply versed not only in Space Magic, but in fire-attribute magic as well.

Linear Ray.

The fire magic the Raven Mask unleashed melted through Azest’s ice spells and dissolved the Frozen Palace that enveloped everything around her. It was a matter of pure overwhelming force. Pillars collapsed, chandeliers crashed down.
Toward Azest, the structure of a Tesseract took shape in an instant, forming a specific configuration. Space Magic spread outward.
“Ugh!”
Azest raised her blade and deployed a Magical Blade through a defensive spell.

Sigh of Kizard.

The most powerful defensive incantation of the Third Circle.
Dezir provided additional defensive reinforcement.

Wind Coat.

A violent shockwave detonated toward Azest.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
She was driven backward a considerable distance.
Fortunately, she remained unharmed.
Dezir blocked the spells hurtling toward Fram and Azest, supporting them while simultaneously straining to perform a Reverse Calculation on the peculiar spell formula the Raven Mask kept deploying.
The Tesseract unfolding from the Raven Mask’s hand was composed of Sixth-Circle level spell formulas.
It shifted and recombined in real time with each passing second, with combinations numbering in the thousands.
Depending on which combination was deployed, the resulting spell’s power and effect differed each time, and interpreting every combination required analyzing all corresponding spell formulas.
From the perspective of someone performing a Reverse Calculation, it was maddening.
‘But the speed of combination is slowing down.’
The Tesseract-shaped spell formula was undoubtedly formidable, but it clearly consumed enormous amounts of Mana to maintain. The Raven Mask’s movements made it obvious that fatigue was setting in.
Moreover, the other party members’ struggle had left them slightly distracted, their guard against sniper fire momentarily lowered.
For Romantica, it was an opening.
She held her breath.
She aligned the target in her sights—just before Raven Mask’s spell formula could deploy.
‘Now!’
The Third Circle spell she had pre-woven compressed and fired through the Rifle’s conduit.
A magical bullet reaching Fourth Circle power.
It struck Raven Mask directly.
Boom!
A miniature tempest erupted. Winds tore through everything within its radius in shreds. Raven Mask’s body lifted skyward before crashing into the shattered fountain.
Romantica inhaled sharply.
‘Did it work?’
Dust settled, and his form emerged. His Robe’s hem was torn in places, caked with dirt and debris.
Romantica’s swelling hope collapsed into disappointment.
‘Is he truly a monster? ……Wait, hold on.’
But there was something unmistakably different from before.
A thin crack had formed across Raven Mask’s surface.
Crack.
Without anyone touching it, the fissure began to split wider. It finally tore completely in two, falling lifelessly to the ground. And then his bare face was laid bare.

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