A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 47
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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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Chapter 47
The atmosphere in the Spectator Stands had shifted several times since the battle began.
Shrieeeeek—!
The first shift came when Aion’s Ballista struck Hugo’s avatar. A blow that came from nowhere, traveling a distance no one had anticipated.
Whooosh…
The Mark Kingdom’s Rook lost his head without ceremony.
In an instant, the spectators froze.
“……What just flew at him?”
“You’re joking, right? Aria has this kind of destructive power?”
“No, I think the attack came from somewhere else.”
“From where? Where did the attack even come from?”
Murmur, murmur—
At first it was just murmuring.
The commotion grew louder, until someone stood up and began manipulating a Hologram Terminal.
They were rewinding the Battle Log to trace the attack’s trajectory.
“Impossible… This doesn’t make sense.”
The trajectory in the hologram unfolded with perfect clarity.
A trail of water vapor that began in the forest stretched in a straight line to Hugo’s head.
“That distance alone has to be hundreds of meters.”
“That’s not even the half of it. She timed it for the moment Gares deployed his barrier across the front line. She bypassed his defended position and struck from the flank. It was a coordinated move.”
Silence.
“So she aimed at the flank from that distance, that moment, and struck the Rook’s head with perfect precision?”
“…….”
“And the destructive power was undiminished. Despite traveling that far, the Mana didn’t dissipate.”
The murmuring swelled again. But this time its tone was different. Beyond amazement—closer to shock.
“That impossible magic comes from someone in my year? A first-year?”
No one answered.
They couldn’t. Every face turned toward the hologram’s trajectory had gone rigid.
“It seems the Cassius Kingdom has already won, doesn’t it? At this pace, can the Mark Kingdom even hold on?”
Marcel spoke with an excited edge to his voice.
“Hard to say.”
But Leonhardt cut the remark short.
“It’s too early to judge.”
“Why not? Did you see that snipe? With that firepower and that precision, what could possibly stop her?”
“I told you.”
Leonhardt’s gaze turned toward the Battlefield.
“The Mark Kingdom has Gares,” he murmured.
That was the moment.
Flash—!
Brilliant light erupted from Gares’s fingertips.
The radiance spread in all directions, wrapping the entire Mark Kingdom team in a massive hemispherical force field.
A Dome.
The murmur in the Spectator Stands died away.
Unlike the earlier chatter, this time no sound came at all.
The air that had been feverish and restless moments before turned cold in an instant.
“…What is that.”
Someone muttered low.
Marcel couldn’t hold back either and turned to Leonhardt.
“A, all-directional defensive spell…? No matter how strong a 3rd Tier is, that shouldn’t be possible, right? The Mana efficiency…”
“Strictly speaking, it’s not omnidirectional. Still, there’s no doubt it’s a primordial spell that freshmen can’t break through.”
The battle that followed unfolded as expected.
The Cassius Kingdom’s offensive continued, but as Leonhardt had foreseen, the Dome held firm.
Cassius’s Wind Magic battered the Dome, Aria’s Resonance detonated against it, and Darren’s Shield blocked the Mark Kingdom’s attacking spells.
Yet none of it meant anything before Gares.
Darren fell, and fire consumed the forest.
When Cassius cranked up his output and unleashed Chain Blast pounding the Dome from all sides, the Spectator Stands stirred once more.
Still, the Dome endured.
And at the end of that exchange, the moment Mark’s Nisht Twin Wasp drove its stinger into Cassius.
“…It’s over.”
Leonhardt murmured.
The mood in the Spectator Stands was much the same.
“Senior, I’ve heard of the Nisht Twin Wasp before. At most it lasts five minutes… and the longer you use Mana, the faster the addiction symptoms accelerate…”
Leonhardt nodded at Iris’s words.
“What’s left of the Cassius Kingdom…”
Whoooosh—!
Just then, the Display Board captured the wind exploding outward, centered on Cassius.
“It really is Cassius!!”
“He still had power left!”
“Then the match isn’t decided yet, is it?”
The murmur rose again.
Every eye in the Spectator Stands fixed on Cassius in the Display Board.
But Leonhardt’s gaze looked past the whirlwind, toward something else entirely.
His friend sitting beside him read that look and spoke quietly.
“Leonhardt….”
“Mm.”
“You’re thinking the same thing I am, aren’t you?”
A nod.
“Cassius seems to be after something.”
Cassius’s magic looked dazzling, but it wasn’t enough to strike the dome.
Which meant… there was something more.
In that instant, Aria’s magic drained the sound from the Battlefield.
Leonhardt’s eyes bored into the whirlwind. Rocks, puppets, debris—threading between all of it.
Something was descending.
Without thinking, he pushed off from the backrest.
“……Leonhardt?”
He heard Marcel’s voice, but couldn’t answer. His eyes wouldn’t leave the Display Board.
It was coming.
“…Above!”
Almost at once, a cry erupted from the Spectator Stands—a scream almost.
“Above!!”
A low rumble—
The crowd rose to their feet as one.
Then silence fell again.
Everyone held their breath in unison.
Something wrapped in flame, plummeting toward the dome on the Display Board.
What it was, who it was—everyone already knew.
It was falling.
Descending without pause.
“Aion… that’s Aion.”
Someone breathed the words unbidden. A trembling voice.
“Yes! Do it! Do it now!!”
Another cheered that crimson meteor.
In that instant, the tension gripping the entire Spectator Stands reached its breaking point.
Crack—!!!!
“No….”
It was impossible.
Even making contact, she hadn’t pierced through.
But then,
Screeeeeee—
The surface of the golden dome began to glow incandescent red.
The sound of extreme heat infused with Mana burrowing inward from the outside.
Gares’s defensive magic held firm, held firm, held firm.
But then it reached its limit.
The golden light exploded outward.
The moment the dome collapsed, the heat of Meltdown erupted explosively inward.
The high ramparts that Mark Kingdom had once boasted became, in the end, their prison.
The molten plain consumed every organism writhing upon it.
What remained in that place was hardened lava.
“Surely not….”
Everyone turned their eyes to the Display Board.
A single line of text appeared a moment later.
『Winner: Cassius Kingdom.』
For an instant, silence.
Then immediately, it shattered.
Roaaaaaaaaaaar—!!!!
A deafening roar erupted from the stands.
“That’s incredible!”
“They did it!”
Students stood from their seats, screaming.
Students seized one another’s arms and shook them.
Students threw their hands high into the air.
Each celebrating this moment in their own way.
Yet all shared the same heart—the desire to cheer for those who dared attempt the impossible.
“Who was that last one again?”
“Aion. That guy from the northern Iscar Family, right?”
“He’s insane—what in the world was that magic?”
While everyone else was swept up in elation, Leonhardt stood with his brow furrowed, his head tilted in thought.
“Leonhardt?”
“Aion won. But his expression…”
The unease Leonhardt felt.
No—a dark premonition.
Just then, an urgent cry echoed from deeper within the Waiting Room.
“Professor Donabel! Over here—!!”
The voice belonged to Vera.
“Aion… Aion….”
The heat that had been building in the stadium died at once, as though cold water had been thrown onto a roaring fire.
“He won’t wake up….”
Vera, tears streaming down her face and heedless of her Ventriloquism, relayed the situation to Professor Donabel.
***
Darkness.
Aion stood in an endless dark.
Beneath his feet lay fine sand.
Yet nothing was visible around him. No pain, no sound, no heat.
Only silence.
Then, from the darkness, several outlines began to emerge.
One, two, three. Silhouettes cloaked entirely in robes. No faces visible—only shadows.
There were eight of them.
Aion regarded them.
“……Is this the Afterlife?”
“…….”
“…….”
They did not speak.
Yet Aion was certain they were watching him.
Though there was no wind in this place, the hems of their robes swayed slowly.
“So… I’m dead.”
The pain had been excruciating.
Had something gone wrong? Or was it…
“A Mark Kingdom conspiracy.”
A suspicion that they had tampered with the pain response settings on the Soul Projection Device.
But if he was dead, such thoughts were all in vain.
Aion crouched quietly on the sandy beach.
“…Why not take me with you? Why just watch from here?”
“…….”
“…I don’t know anymore.”
Thud—
Aion collapsed and lay still.
Whisper—
The sand beneath his fingers was neither white nor black—some shade caught between the two.
He had never believed in the Afterlife, yet here it was. Had he known such a place existed, would he have lived differently?
“…Aion Iscar.”
A voice reached him.
One of the robed figures.
A tone he had never heard before.
“Do you regret your life?”
“…Regret?”
Aion propped his head up on interlaced hands.
“Not at all.”
“Reflect upon your life.”
“Reflect? What do you…”
“Dead one, listen… do as I say.”
The figure beside the speaker nudged him sharply in the ribs.
The instruction was strange, but Aion assumed it was necessary and complied.
“I was born the second son of the Iscar Family and lived as a witch hunter until I came of age.”
“Why?”
“The Iscar Family protects the Great Wall of the North. Even as the Empire’s attention waned, we never abandoned that duty.”
“…Continue.”
“I was sent to my Uncle at a young age and endured merciless training. I carried out many dangerous missions where death was always a possibility.”
Nod—
The robed figures nodded in acknowledgment.
“Mmm… it must have been terribly painful.”
“It was painful, true, but it was a good life. I had many fine companions.”
“…You wished to become a Mage, didn’t you?”
“……I made a promise to someone. That I would become a Mage.”
“You, who had no talent for Mana?”
Aion fixed a sharp stare on the speaker.
“Mmm….”
“I had no talent. I could never have become like my Uncle or like Dorothy. Not without Mana talent.”
Eight judges began murmuring among themselves, then posed a new question to Aion.
“Aion Iscar. Let us rephrase the earlier question. Do you harbor regrets?”
“Not regret, but… wistfulness? Wistfulness, you say….”
Aion suddenly recalled that miraculous moment he had glimpsed at the end of his life.
“Magic….”
“…….”
“I wonder what it would have been like if I’d studied magic more….”
“…….”
Aion contemplated the emotion welling up inside him and gathered his thoughts.
“I wanted to become a Mage.”
“A Mage….”
“I came to love magic, you see.”
One of them stepped forward and spoke.
“Aion, wayward child rejected by Mana’s choosing. If you were granted another chance, what kind of life would you lead?”
“……Another chance?”
“That is to say — resolve! Respect your elders, obey their words, train with diligence! Things of that sort….”
Poke, poke—
A shadow jabbing the speaker’s ribs, nattering away.
“Stop wasting time with that nonsense….”
“Heh… hehehehe….”
“You’ve caught on, then? Already?”
“Pufufu….”
As they began to laugh, Aion’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth.
“…You lot?”
“Ah, Aion Iscar. So, does this seem like the Afterlife to you?”
“…Extreme Points.”
Eight shadows stood beside Aion.
They were Extreme Points.
“Puhahahahahaha!”
“Ehehehe! I thought you’d start wailing tears!”
“Don’t tease him. Aion looked so serious… pffft….”
Aion was annoyed at becoming the butt of their jokes, but answering his questions took priority.
“Then where is this?”
“Where? Inside your head, you fool.”
“Aion, come here. We have something to show you.”
Aion brushed the sand from himself and rose, approaching them.
“What are you going to show me?”
“Do you recall what the first Mage said the moment he first beheld Mana?”
Nod.
“I saw The Sea.”
“All Mages revere those words. Because they are true.”
Whoooosh…
The sound of waves rolling in.
The silence vanishes, and peace takes its place.
“You’re a greenhorn, a fool, a dunce, stubborn as they come….”
“…Is it really that bad?”
“An idiot, a sea anemone—in any case, to us you’re simply contemptible and utterly disagreeable.”
Aion respected the Extreme Points’ judgment. Well, one could think that way, he supposed.
“For a long time, perhaps even until our contract ends, you may be remembered as such a person.”
……
“But starting today, there is one thing more to add.”
Whoooooosh…
Waves come.
Far off, they remained hidden in pitch darkness, but the waves that wet his feet were so utterly transparent.
The Sea exists here.
Mana tickles his feet.
“Mage.”
The Extreme Point of Flame laughed heartily and tousled Aion’s hair before speaking.
“You have just now reached the 2nd Tier.”
Whoooosh…
Congratulations, Aion Iscar.
A true Mage.
“On becoming a Mage.”
Aion Iscar.
Beheld The Sea.
The Talentless Mage Swallows a Catastrophic Future — Chapter 47
Author
Wang Mozhi
Publisher
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover Art
Dali
UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0047
ⓒ2026. Wang Mozhi
※ This e-book is protected under the copyright laws of the Republic of Korea.
No part of this work may be reproduced, adapted, or modified 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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