A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 43

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 43

Whiiiine―!

Vision flickered, and when Aion’s eyes opened again, a cool breeze brushed his cheek as an open virtual plain unfurled before him.

The moment the system’s mechanical announcement signaled the start, the five members of the Cassius Kingdom nodded to one another and took their formation.

Whoosh―

More precisely, four of them formed up, while a single warrior vanished completely from the battlefield.

Aion.
Every movement had been arranged beforehand.

―
When we analyzed the military strength of our kingdom against the Mark Kingdom, if we clashed head-on, we’d lose without question. Here’s where you need to carry us, Aion. That’s simply how it is.

Days earlier, in the narrow training hall of Arcane Soul, Cassius had laid bare the kingdom’s fatal weakness.

―Our roster is relatively weaker, so even I, as king, am forced to employ magic defensively. Which means our kingdom’s offensive capacity is crippled just the same. You and Aria alone must pierce through the enemy’s defenses.

And such a flaw inevitably constricted their strategic options to a crushing degree.

―If you’re intercepted, we may as well call it a defeat for our kingdom. In this battle, your existence—your reliable offensive power—matters more than the king himself.

And thus the most crucial premise was sealed.

―
So you must never reveal yourself, not for a single moment.

True to that instruction, Aion sprinted toward the wooded terrain far from his teammates the instant combat began.

The virtual Bosco Plain was rendered as a scaled-down reproduction of the real world’s geography.

The forested region beside the plain was vast enough to fill several kilometers in radius in the original world, but here it occupied only a few hundred meters.

Once Aion reached the forest, he immediately scaled the tallest tree.

Scramble―!

He climbed without hesitation, moving with ape-like naturalness.

“…There.”

As expected, claiming position in the forest had been the right call.

―The enemy will advance into open ground instead. They’re confident, and cover holds no advantage for them anyway.

Five mages stepped slowly onto the plain.

The distance from forest to them was immense.
At least several hundred meters, by the look of it.

‘This is where it matters.’

With no knowledge of the Mark Kingdom’s tactics or troop deployment, the battle would likely devolve into chaos.

And that melee, for the Cassius Kingdom, was a result they absolutely could not afford.

― We must avoid close combat at any cost.
― But how can we counter their strategy when we don’t even know what it is?
― We don’t need to know.
― What do you mean?
― Their strategy will be determined by us instead. Or rather, by none other than Aion, the kingdom’s mightiest knight!

A responsibility thrust upon him entirely.
Yet Aion understood what those words truly meant better than anyone.

― I trust you.

Aion, standing atop a tree, slowly extended his right hand.

Shhhhh―

Moisture scattered through the air began to swirl upward, drawn into Aion’s outstretched palm.

Whoooosh….

‘I need to distribute my Mana carefully.’

Once he achieved the desired destructive power, pouring in any more Mana would amount to waste.

‘My Mana reserves aren’t limitless.’

With no way to predict what might unfold, he had to conserve every bit of Mana he could.

Swoooosh…

An enormous volume of water was compressed into something the size of a thumb—outwardly just a single transparent, luminous droplet.

Drop.

Yet within it lay a savage mass, condensed under such terrible pressure that even steel plates would be pierced as easily as paper—something no Tier 1 mage should have been able to create.

Aion transformed this crude projectile into a colossal arrow.
And using the invisible force of Telekinesis as his bowstring, he drew it back with agonizing tension until cold sweat ran down his spine.

‘Damn… this is harder than I thought.’

It wasn’t just about firing it—it was about firing it fast. That too required technique, and he’d never attempted it in actual combat before.

Aion’s gaze fixed on the Mark Kingdom, moving slowly across the plain hundreds of meters away.

He held that taut bowstring steady, enduring the eerie calm before the storm.

Then, at the edge of his vision, a small figure emerged from the Cassius Kingdom’s formation, stepping slowly forward.

Aria Di Valera.

She extended both hands before her.

Forte.

Whiiing―!

‘Not yet….’

For just a breath, all sound on the battlefield seemed to vanish into her palm—a strange, suffocating silence that made the air itself hold its breath.

…And then.

‘Now!’

Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack-CRACK!!!

A deafening roar that could shatter eardrums swallowed the entire Bosco Plain.
The ground erupted and buckled beneath, and a massive wall of dust and sand rose like a tsunami, completely engulfing the battlefield.

A formidable spell that robbed the enemy not only of sight but of hearing as well.

As if to counter Aria’s Forte, a defensive spell unfolded across the front lines.

And in that same instant, another brutal report—perfectly woven into the roar of Aria’s Forte.

Bang-bang-bang-BANG!!!

Crack…!

The recoil alone was enough to make the massive tree beneath Aion’s feet sway violently at its roots.

And so the projectile, slipping from Aion’s fingertips, left a long white contrail streaming behind it as it shot across the battlefield.

***

Gares.

A man who rose by his own hand.

To explain what horrors he had endured, what catalyst had awakened his magic, one would have to descend to the absolute depths of the slums—to the squalid pens where beasts wallowed.

A boy who had never known his parents’ faces, who grew up fighting starving strays in the alleyways, scavenging garbage, tearing raw flesh from carrion.

To him, the world was nothing but pain.

Night after night, drowning in violence and murderous intent, he learned what it took to survive.

The street skills of the gutter—pickpocketing, robbery, extortion.

Then one day, he reached for the purse of a traveling mage and was caught, beaten savagely for his theft.

His face swelled beyond recognition, his muscles screaming in agony.

That the mage spared his life—merciful in his restraint, even as he was just a child—proved he was a man of compassion.

Desperation poured from Gares.
He spoke, hardly aware of what he was saying, simply pouring out words.

―
Please, spare me, sir! I’m begging you… please…

Tears mixed with blood and pus, and more blood pooled beneath him.

The mage spoke.

― I didn’t do this to you merely for a purse. You crossed a line. If I left you as you were, you’d soon be lost to this world entirely. So I corrected you.
― …….
— From now on, let this be a lesson to you. Become a different person. If you don’t, your life won’t last five years.
— ……Yes.

Gares wanted to say something to the mage.

—
Do you have something to say?
—
…teach… me….
—
…….
—
Magic… teach… me… please… me too….

Young Gares wanted to escape this terrible abyss.

— Me too… give me… a chance… I can… do well.

Perhaps it was his desperate struggle that impressed the mage.

The mage took Gares as his apprentice.

Gares was quick-witted and talented.

— Magical talent differs from person to person. Some is inborn, but some awakens through cultivation. The path you’ve walked is carved into your magic.

The field in which Gares distinguished himself was defensive magic.

Perhaps it was a talent that manifested to protect something from a world that had taken so much.

Drawing on a pool of Mana far greater than his peers, he possessed a sensitivity for defending remarkably broad areas.

The mage departed after Gares reached Tier 2, but Gares treasured his teachings like gold, holding them close to his heart.

After that, his defensive magic — tempered only by real combat and the fear of death — was grotesquely rigid and coarse at first, but as he aged and his circumstances changed, it evolved into a different form.

More elegant, more perfect.

By his first year, he not only reached Tier 3, a height few achieved, but succeeded in creating his own Original Magic.

Yet his existence remained unknown to most.

Neither that he attended basic magic combat lectures, nor what level of mage he had become.

This was also why, despite being a Tier 3 mage, he was never chosen as king.

Layer upon layer of such coincidence had assigned him a single role: Rook of the Mark Kingdom.

“Yah-ha-ha-ha… it’s nice to have such an open view. That must be the Cassius Kingdom over there.”

Mark was nominally king, but before the overwhelming pressure Gares exuded, he dared not speak carelessly.

The coarse density and savagery of Mana that pressed down upon his spine with every breath.

“Let’s finish this quickly and rest.”

Mark offered no particular response to Gares, who carried himself more like a king than the king himself.

His approach was to avoid provoking him and use his strength instead — quite different from how he treated Renar.

Mark cleared his throat and forced himself to adopt a composed tone as he issued the strategy.

“You understand the plan, don’t you? We intercept the Cassius Kingdom’s Knights first.”

He pushed strength into his voice deliberately.

“Their kingdom’s Rookeries are at best early Tier Two—and even then, they’re second-rate. Their defense is fragile, which means Cassius’s offensive power will be shackled to holding their line. But if we can drop even one of their Knights… from that moment on, defeat becomes impossible for them, no matter how hard they try.”

It was thorough analysis. The conclusion was sound.

But Gares picked at his ear canal with his pinky and replied with studied indifference.

Sigh…

“Aren’t you working way too hard just to take down small-timers? Too complicated. Why not just smash straight through?”
“You, speaking so carelessly to Mark—”
“Hmm?”

That instant, Gares’s gaze shifted to the female student standing beside Cassius.

His lazy eyes sharpened like a predator’s in a heartbeat, growing grave and alert.

“… She’s coming.”

Whiiine—!

Boom—!!!!

Forte.

A devastating blow unleashed by Aria.

Crackle-crackle-crackle!

A colossal cloud of earth surged like a tidal wave toward Mark’s position, riding a terrible percussion that shook the battlefield itself.

Yet even within that overwhelming roar and tremor, Gares grinned widely, teeth bared.

“Now that’s decent!!”

Shield.

Whoooosh—!

The elementary defensive magic that sprang from Gares’s fingertips bore no comparison to what students his age ordinarily wielded.

A saffron-colored barrier formed in his palm, utterly negating the impact of Forte.

Boom—!

Thump-thump-thump….

As the cascading dust settled, Gares rotated his shoulders and smirked.

“Impressive. So you’re Aria? Not only are your looks to my taste, but your magic prowess too. Once this is over, should I go ahead and confess? Though I suppose you’ll turn me down anyway?”

A casual, cocky quip from the assured Gares.
But in that very moment—

“That’s… impossible.”

Renar’s frozen voice fell across the plain.

“……What?”

Gares turned to look back.

“Hugo!!”

Mark’s cry—half shout, half plea. But there was no answer.

Hugo von Krauss, who had held the Rook position alongside Gares.
He knelt there with his head completely severed from his body.

『Hugo von Krauss’s Avatar has been destroyed.』

Fwishhhhhhh….

His Avatar began to crumble into dust.

The shock froze every member of the Mark Kingdom team in place.

No one could speak of this absurd situation.

“…That magic just now was a deception?”

Had Aria’s spell that blanketed the battlefield only moments ago merely been a smokescreen to obscure their vision?

In that suffocating silence, only Gares burst into laughter.

“Heh… kufufufu….”
“Look here….”
“Kufufu… hahahaha! Yes… THIS is it!! This is how it should be to make it fun!!”

Gares analyzed the cause of Hugo’s death.

“I see it now. Water vapor… such accuracy from this distance?”

He rubbed his chin, murmuring to himself.

“…A sniper shot? The destructive power is unbelievable. This one did manage to deploy a defensive spell before death, but the sound… yes, it was hidden by Aria’s magic. They’re quite well coordinated, aren’t they?”

One of the five was dead.
The one who fell held the Rook position.

Now Gares would have to shoulder all of the Mark Kingdom’s defense alone.

Renar asked with a face gone ashen pale.

“Mark, the strategy….”

Then Gares cut in, taking command of the situation.

“Forget that strategy.”
“What?”

Mark cried out urgently.

“Listen, Gares!”
“Judging by how this is unfolding, if we keep trusting you lot, we’ll lose without even landing a blow. From now on, I’m calling the shots.”
“You…….”

Gares, who had appointed himself regent of the Mark Kingdom.

A new weapon forged by Aion, combining Telekinesis and Drop.

The moment it fires, leaving trails of steam and sound in its wake, a ultra-long-range heavy sniper shot that pierces straight through the battlefield.

Ballista.

“From now on, none of you venture more than twenty paces from me.”

Gares finished speaking, tapping his head with a finger in a light rhythm.

“Unless you’d like to lose it.”

The Talentless Mage Swallows a Calamitous Future — Chapter 43

Author
Wangmozzi
Publisher
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover Design
Dali

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0043

ⓒ2026. Wangmozzi

※ This e-book is protected under the copyright law of the Republic of Korea.
No part or all of this work may be reprocessed in any form without the permission of the author and publisher.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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