The Archmage’s Destruction Strategy - Chapter 144

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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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#144. Dancing

The ten crimson spheres I had given to Seoa were a type of magical bomb crafted from mana stones extracted from the bodies of ten Level 8 Corrosion Entities.
By inverting the characteristic of high-grade Corrosion Entities—their ability to forcibly distort the physical laws of the Reality Universe—I had created spheres that simultaneously negated both the Reality Universe’s physical laws and the Corrosion Entities’ own unique physics. In theory, these spheres possessed devastating destructive power capable of completely neutralizing a Corrosion Entity’s defenses and inflicting damage upon its core.
The problem was that because the spheres themselves possessed the characteristic of completely ignoring physical laws, ordinary humans couldn’t even hold them.
Since they didn’t belong to the reality dimension, if an ordinary person tried to pick up a sphere, it would erase the very hand of whoever touched it from the Reality Universe.
And the same applied to my hands, despite my existence belonging to the Reality Universe.

I recalled the moment I first created those spheres.

‘I nearly had a heart attack from the shock.’

To create unique laws belonging to no universe, I had recalibrated the mana wave frequency of the mana stones extracted from a Level 8 Corrosion Entity’s body to possess the characteristics of the Void Dimension.
I was certain that if I used the mana wave frequency of the Void Dimension—which fills the spaces between countless parallel universes—I could neutralize even the characteristics of Corrosion Entities that forcibly distort the Reality Universe’s laws.
The experiment itself succeeded.
The moment I adjusted the mana stone’s inherent mana wave frequency to the Void Dimension’s frequency, the mass of the sphere that clearly existed before my eyes became “zero.”
It was something that existed yet didn’t exist, something weightless yet infinitely heavy.
The problem was that, true to such characteristics, the moment it was completed, it began denying its own existence and tried to vanish from that very spot.
In desperation, I unleashed every sealing spell I knew upon the half-transparent crimson sphere, desperately preventing it from disappearing.
Time-stop seals, state-lock seals, forced material-binding seals, dimensional vaults, perpetual regeneration curses, soul bindings, chains of fate….
After applying every sealing spell I knew, the crimson sphere finally stabilized without vanishing, and I forcibly pushed the ten spheres I had created into a space within the Void Dimension where even the concept of time didn’t exist.
And now, the spheres I had given to Seoa were those very same spheres.
Seoa gazed at the sphere, which was sealed so firmly that it was difficult to even determine how many 10-circle sealing incantations were placed upon it, and murmured in rapture.

“As expected of you, Teacher. No one else in the world could create something like this.”

Since she was also a mage, she could vaguely understand just how advanced the magical abilities were that had gone into creating what I had made.
And she also understood that the moment those magical seals were released inside the enemy’s body, even the massive form of a Corrosion Entity couldn’t ignore the damage it would suffer.
Then Baphomet, who had emerged from the Grimoire that Miyu held and had been observing the sphere, spoke to Seoa.

[It’s not that no one can make it, but that no one would think to make it. Is he truly insane? He made ten of these deranged objects? These are things that could cause an entire dimension to collapse if something goes wrong during creation?]
“He must have confidence that he can handle any contingencies, which is why he made them. And look—they’re sleeping peacefully right now. We won’t know what happens the moment they detonate until we actually see it.”
[You truly have blind faith when it comes to your teacher. I’ll admit that Ma Sungjun is a remarkable mage, but he’s still human. He has limits.]

Baphomet’s words held a grain of truth.
Sung-jun had indeed succeeded in creating this Void Bomb, but he had failed to discover a method to actually deploy it.
The Void Bomb that Sung-jun had crafted possessed a fatal flaw: it automatically calculated its own dimensional coordinates in real-time and forcibly created an isolated dimension where objects from the Void Dimension could exist at that location, making it impossible to hurl toward an opponent using conventional magic that propelled objects at high speed.
Moreover, being an extraordinarily delicate device, it carried the risk of detonating prematurely if mana wasn’t infused with precise intensity.
The moment Seoa received the Void Bomb, she sensed this reality instinctively and was now exercising extreme mana control to prevent it from detonating.

‘To embed this into the enemy’s body….’

The first method that came to mind was colliding the sphere with the powerful mana wavelength flowing around the enemy’s body to trigger detonation.
The moment it collided with the carapace of the Apocalypse-class Corrosion Entity—whose body itself possessed the characteristic of defying the laws of physics in the Reality Universe—the countless seals enveloping the Void Bomb would likely shatter instantly.
The problem was that due to Sung-jun’s Meteor Strike, the battlefield had already become like the eye of a typhoon where mana raged with maddening intensity.
The probability that the bomb would detonate at a completely unpredictable location before reaching the enemy, caught in the maelstrom of mana that would shake space the moment she threw the Void Bomb to attack, approached one hundred percent—so Seoa immediately abandoned the idea of safely hurling the Void Bomb at the enemy from a distance.

‘If it were that easy, Teacher would have done it himself.’

In the end, the only method was to pierce through that mana storm, approach at close range, and hurl it at the enemy—but the problem was that the very act of approaching while holding the Void Bomb carried the risk of detonation.
Upon realizing this, Seoa understood why Teacher had entrusted her with these red spheres.

‘He must have believed that only I could pierce through that space with these.’

Sung-jun had handed the spheres to Seoa because only her innate mana control ability—a talent she possessed from birth—could pierce through that flow of mana while maintaining the seals intact.
Without the spheres, even if Seoa used her natural talent to break through the mana storm and approach the enemy, she would have no way to inflict damage upon it.
For her, who possessed keen sensitivity to mana but lacked the theoretical knowledge necessary to cast high-circle magic, the Void Bomb that Sung-jun had given her was nothing short of the ultimate weapon.

“Alright. I understand well enough.”

With her resolve hardened, Seoa gazed at the maelstrom of mana swirling across the battlefield with blazing eyes.
Then she began calculating the precise coordinates and timing by which she could approach the enemy.

‘If the flow continues like that, a gap will open at that coordinate in two seconds, and one second after that….’

In truth, what she was attempting was no different from gazing at roiling water and trying to predict with her senses where the next droplet would splash up.
It was a gamble of prediction where a single mistake could result in her self-destructing together with the ten bombs in her arms without ceremony.
As if running a simulation in her mind, she sensed the location of the ‘safe coordinates’ that appeared for only an instant within the complexly intertwined waves of mana.

‘Next is over there… No, wait. Two meters to the side.’

Counting her thirty-fifth simulated death in her mind, she began the coordinate calculation anew.
And finally, at a suitable position where she could strike the enemy, the phantom she had conjured in her imagination materialized.

‘Excellent! After dying over four hundred times, I finally succeeded! If I can execute forty-seven short-range dimensional transfers in a row without a single mistake, I’ll be able to approach the enemy!’

Seoa knew that a single success in her mind didn’t guarantee success in reality, so she took a deep breath and began simulating the complex route toward the enemy once more.
And finally, when she lifted her head after mentally envisioning thousands of deaths, the success probability of her simulations had barely exceeded thirty percent.

‘I can’t push any further than this.’

Part of her wanted to practice more, but time was running out.
Even as she ran simulations in her mind at this very moment, the colossal enemy was advancing toward her allies with thunderous strides, and the Soldiers standing in its path were losing their lives in vain.
Given those circumstances, the thirty percent success rate she had predicted was nothing short of a miracle.
Seoa’s ‘simulation’ wasn’t a method of predicting the flow of mana from a fixed position through repetition—it was a technique that relied solely on her senses to identify safe positions amid the real-time movement of enemies and allies, and the chaotic swirling of mana that changed unpredictably.
If an ally happened to occupy the location where she needed to transfer at the moment of transfer, her Void Bomb wouldn’t wait for another opportunity and would detonate immediately.
And even if she transferred to the correct position, if the enemy changed its trajectory and moved in a different direction, she would have to calculate new coordinates all over again.
The fact that her success probability was thirty percent despite constantly calculating variables in real-time was evidence of just how exceptional her ability to read mana flow truly was.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Miyu approached Seoa, who had steeled her resolve, and asked her a question.
Whether she truly intended to go through with it.
Seoa nodded and answered her question.

“Even so, I have a thirty percent success rate.”
“That means you have a seventy percent chance of dying.”
“That’s right. But I have to do this. No one else could accomplish what I can. Teacher entrusted these orbs to me precisely because he understood that.”

Sung-jun knew the truth.
With the remaining forces at his disposal, he couldn’t stop the enemy’s advance until he finished preparing his next spell.
That’s why Sung-jun had no choice but to hand over the Void Bomb to Seoa—the very weapon he had sealed away and vowed never to use again, despite knowing full well the danger.
Even though he understood better than anyone that this decision might send his disciple into the jaws of death.
Yet this was decidedly not a choice born from the assumption of ‘perhaps’.
It was a decision born from the ‘certainty’ that Seoa, based on everything he had witnessed of her abilities, would absolutely succeed.

“Teacher believed in me and entrusted his own life to me. So I must repay that faith.”
“Are you confident? Even with a seventy percent failure rate?”

Toward Miyu, who asked with evident concern, Seoa raised her index finger.

“First, I’m naturally suited for practical combat. So it should be fine.”
“And the second reason?”
“Ever since becoming my Teacher’s disciple, I’ve always wondered—perhaps my very existence is part of some grand spell my Teacher cast.”

The way Sung-jun taught Seoa differed entirely from how his own Teacher, Minastrias, had instructed him.
Having built his magical foundation through rigorous theory and vast accumulated knowledge, Sung-jun found himself unable to comprehend Seoa’s approach—one that relied solely on her innate sensitivity to mana.
Thus, the magical theory he imparted to her was not the orthodox knowledge he’d learned from his Teacher, but rather an original framework he’d devised specifically to suit her talents.
If a genius existed who could manipulate mana through sensation rather than theory, what would be the most correct way to wield magic? Through pure knowledge and imagination alone, he had researched and created an entirely different class of incantations.
Therefore, the manner in which his disciple Seoa cast her spells and the manner in which her Teacher Sung-jun cast his were so fundamentally different in their operational structure that they seemed alien to one another—yet one thing remained certain.
The “sensory” method of spell invocation that Sung-jun had created through theory alone had never, not once, failed.
The Teacher she knew was an unparalleled genius in magical theory, capable of creating entirely new casting methods through mere thought—methods she herself could never employ.

“So I, being magic created by my Teacher, will never fail at magic. Because my Teacher is a magical genius capable of casting any spell in existence.”
“That’s quite the bond of trust. I’m almost envious.”
“I feel the same way.”

With a smile, Seoa finished speaking and tucked the orb she held into her bosom.
Then, spreading both arms wide, she cast a teleportation spell toward the center of the tangled mana vortex.
Forty-seven consecutive castings with no margin for failure.
Her attack pattern traced a beautiful trajectory like a dance, targeting all eight legs of the massive insectoid Corrosion Entity.

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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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