The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 114

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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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114
Episode 114. The Dome of Light, Luciella
***
The far end of the massive Grand Bridge connecting the Outskirts of Ganghwa Island to the Academy’s artificial island was already shrouded in thick sea fog.
Dawn mist carrying the salt of the sea dampened the asphalt beneath, and visibility was so murky that the eye could make out little more than a few dozen meters ahead.
On the shoulder of the road, a single heavy black bulletproof limousine had materialized through that fog and come to a stop.
The license plate alone was enough to prove it belonged to Taesong Energy—ranked first in South Korea’s financial hierarchy.
At this chokepoint, the only access route to the Academy, its presence was magnetic enough to draw the eyes of passing guild vehicles and academy officials like iron filings.
Behind the thickly tinted windows, raw curiosity spilled across the limousine’s sleek body—each onlooker trying to glimpse what lay within.
“Over here, over here!”
From beyond the fog-shrouded entrance, a dull sound and the sensation of someone waving and approaching cut through the haze.
“……Jung Se-hui.”
I exhaled shallowly between my lips, speaking her name into the air.
She emerged slowly from the mist, wrestling with a silver carry-on luggage nearly as large as her own torso.
Each time the wheels crossed the uneven, heaving pavement blocks, the luggage squealed in protest, and her shoulders bobbed in rhythm with the recoil.
She looked nothing like her usual self.
The designer dresses and primary-colored outfits she’d worn in glitzy clubs and labs—garments that left nothing to the imagination—were nowhere to be found.
Instead, her body was wrapped in a neatly tailored navy suit.
In place of the impossibly tall heels, she wore low-heeled formal dress shoes that clicked against the pavement blocks with each step.
Her makeup was sparse, color stripped away to almost nothing. The effect matched the businesslike, tidy atmosphere that Lee Min-yeong from the Gate Management Bureau exuded.
But the essence was different.
If Lee Min-yeong’s composure was a scabbard hiding the keen edge of a sharp blade, then Jung Se-hui’s current appearance was less a natural state and more a mask—her striking personality forcibly suppressed.
The traces of someone fitting herself into a frame to fulfill the official title of venture representative at Taesong Energy were unmistakable.
I stepped forward and silently hooked the carry-on handle from her grip.
The warmth of her hand where it had gripped the handle was far hotter than the metal itself.
“Your timing’s perfect. This thing was killing me.”
“Why did you come alone?”
At my question, Se-hui steadied her breathing, tapping the pavement with the toe of her shoe. A thin bead of sweat on her brow was mixing with the fog as it ran down her face.
“Sent them all back.”
“Your attendants? Why?”
“Because you’re coming anyway. We’re already paying through the nose for our guild master over here—no need to go around with a long tail and draw unnecessary attention, right? You have to agree.”
“You’re something else.”
I let out a short, quiet laugh through my nose.
“Once word gets out that you’re here, sponsors will come flooding in like dogs after a bone, all wanting investment. You’re going to handle that alone?”
“Let them come, then.”
Se-hui adjusted the collar of her jacket and lifted her chin. Her eyes flickered with stubborn fire for a moment.
“I’ll sift through that pack myself and figure out which ones are worth Taesong’s investment and which are just con artists flapping their mouths. My eye is sharp.”
It was a decent temperament. I took both her carry-on and my carbon luggage in either hand and moved toward the official checkpoint at the Academy entrance.
At the far end of a marble corridor spanning hundreds of meters, the Main Checkpoint was sorting people into three distinct zones with ruthless precision.
On the far left, a massive shuttle bus ferried the Academy’s junior researchers, faculty, and low-ranking assistants like cargo through the “common gate.”
In the center, mages and officials from around the world who had received formal invitations to the regular conference stood in lines stretching dozens of meters for identity verification—the “general gate.”
And on the far right.
A single empty corridor, devoid of any queue or noise.
The “VIP Gate”—inaccessible without an invitation of state-guest caliber or one worthy of a continental-scale guild master.
With Se-hui at my side, I walked without obstacle toward that empty right passage.
The regular sound of dress shoes striking the marble floor echoed down the corridor.
The feeling was strange.
In the world I’d left behind, Kim Do-jin—a graduate student with no backing—had shuffled through that narrow left entrance every morning without fail.
As a replaceable cog in the machinery that kept the Ivory Tower standing, I’d spent each day grinding away what remained of my self-respect.
And when my thesis was handed down an arrogant verdict—that it dared challenge the authority of established professors—I’d been ignominiously cast out through that same cramped door.
But now, at the entrance to this vast mousetrap, I was stepping toward the widest and most magnificent gate.
The very path my past self had despised while never daring to look upon it.
As we drew closer to the VIP Gate, the murmur of the crowd lined up along the central passage swelled toward us like a wave.
“That little kid going through the VIP Gate? Did we see that right?”
“Must be some third-generation chaebol filling a quota. Is the guy next to her a hired hunter bodyguard?”
“Probably paid good money for him. Nowadays people hire based on looks rather than skill, or so I’ve heard.”
Hundreds of gazes and sneers bore into my back, filling the air with contempt.
At the barrier of the VIP checkpoint, two large men in black suits stepped forward to block our path. They were no mere security guards.
The faint ripple of Mana emanating from their bodies proved they were hunters of at least B-rank.
“Invitations and identification, please.”
“Yes, right here.”
Jung Se-hui withdrew a thick black invitation and an identification card stamped with the Taesong Energy emblem from her inner jacket pocket and offered them forward.
One of the men took the invitation and let a faint trickle of Mana flow across his palm—a procedure to verify the anti-forgery magic circle.
Meanwhile, the other man raked his gaze openly up and down both our faces.
On their left chests gleamed brilliant gold-plated emblems: skulls with crossed axe blades.
‘Invictus.’
The most powerful military force in South Korea, an aristocratic guild that believed itself the chosen elite. They appeared to have contracted out the entire security for this conference.
The way they stationed themselves directly at the VIP checkpoint and displayed their guild emblems with such pride laid bare their peculiar nature—they could not endure a moment without flaunting their authority.
For Invictus, this conference, where corporate titans and elite mages from around the world gathered, was the perfect showcase stage to prove their military value.
‘……Lee Ji-su isn’t here.’
A fleeting thought crossed my mind as I registered the Invictus emblem. Lee Ji-su, whom I’d encountered on the train on the way back from Paju.
In this world line, she who had risen to the position of vice-captain in Invictus might well be somewhere within this massive fortress, maintaining alert vigilance on patrol rounds.
Beep-beep—!
A red light beam swept across my carry-on luggage and displayed a weapon detection warning symbol. The two men immediately blocked the checkpoint barrier.
“Please open your luggage.”
“A magical weapon-class signature has been detected. We cannot allow passage until it’s been verified.”
The man’s gaze fixed on the Black Iron within the carry-on. The ambient murmuring around us fell silent.
Se-hui snatched the invitation back.
“According to the security regulations for special events, a certified Hunter may carry registered weapons in their possession for VIP protection purposes with approval from the field supervisor.”
All playfulness drained from Se-hui’s voice.
“I’ve already submitted both my Hunter Association registration and my responsibility signature. If you insist on opening it, call the supervisor.”
The man’s mouth fell shut.
No woman ignored by Academy mages slept well at night. The moment Se-hui took shelter under Taesong’s name, she transformed into a businesswoman who could throttle an opponent with a single clause of a contract.
The other man reached to seize the carry-on. Before his fingers made contact, the Black Iron thrummed low.
Hum—.
As the measurement spike surged, his hand instinctively froze.
“Proceed.”
“Let them through.”
An Invictus field commander bearing silver rank insignia approached. He examined the measurement readings and the documents, then glared at his subordinate.
“It’s properly registered equipment. The grade isn’t high either. Just attach a seal sticker and send them on.”
“If the seal is compromised inside the conference, we will initiate immediate armed intervention.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
A silver seal pattern was inscribed onto the carry-on handle. I’d kept the Black Iron, but it had branded me a point of concern for Invictus.
“Confirmed.”
The man who had finished the Mana scan nodded and pressed the barrier switch.
“Taesong Energy Technical Department Director, Jung Se-hui. And senior attendant, Kim Do-jin, Hunter. Confirmed. You may enter.”
The man’s voice carried through the venue’s announcement speakers, echoing across the entire Plaza.
In that instant, explosive noise erupted from among the hundreds of people waiting in the central corridor.
“Did you hear that? Taesong Energy?”
“There were rumors circulating that Taesong was participating in this conference, and it turns out to be true. So that woman is their youngest daughter? The one debuting as a venture director?”
“No wonder they seemed familiar.”
“A monopoly cartridge corporation showing up directly at the Academy conference. This year’s gathering is shaping up to be legendary. The stage has truly expanded beyond measure.”
“Watch your mouth. Did you see that Hunter’s glare? Stay quiet.”
Shameless curiosity and wariness poured down from every direction. I adjusted my grip on the carry-on and glanced subtly to the side.
Se-hui’s shoulders beside me were trembling so finely it was difficult to control.
Her knuckles, drained of color, clenched the hem of her jacket tightly.
I shortened my stride and repositioned myself half a step ahead and to her right side.
And with my shoulder, I blocked the angle between the hundreds of gazes pouring from the central corridor and Se-hui.
“Let’s go.”
***
Se-hui and I passed through the checkpoint, leaving the crowd’s noise behind. The sound of her footsteps following mine seemed to find some stability.
After passing the checkpoint, we entered the transparent Monorail suspended on elevated rails. It ran toward the Academy Main Building.
If the external checkpoint was the Academy’s outer shell, then the moment we crossed the massive obsidian outer wall aboard this Monorail, we would truly be entering the heart of the Ivory Tower.
Inside the empty VIP-exclusive passenger car, Se-hui reached toward the control console at the cabin’s center the moment she took her seat.
“This is ours, isn’t it?”
Behind the transparent panel she pointed to, a cylindrical Magic Stone Cartridge emitting blue light rotated, supplying power to the Monorail.
“But this is a second-generation legacy module. The output conversion efficiency is poor, so there’s considerable delay.
Soon I’ll need to push through a contract to replace all these antiquated lines running throughout the entire Academy with the latest generation.
These relics won’t satisfy the VIPs.”
She poured out words in a voice pitched half a tone higher than usual, without pause.
“Why are you so tense?”
I asked, watching the landscape blur past the window, and Se-hui flinched, waving her hand in denial.
“When did I get tense? I haven’t been tense at all. It’s just that the Academy facilities are so outdated—it’s absurd, that’s all.”
“Don’t be nervous. Just do what you did back in the lab when we were tearing apart Dekima circuits. You talked your head off then, even when nobody was watching.”
“Y-you’re something else. When did I ever get nervous about—”
Se-hui pouted, her voice aggrieved. Yet her fingers continued to twist the carry-on’s leather strap with anxious, rhythmic motions.
“The truth is…”
After a brief silence, she opened her mouth, her voice creeping out as her head hung low.
“At the checkpoint just now, when hundreds of people stared at me all at once, I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I thought I’d overcome all of that while buried in work… but I guess I hadn’t. I’m such an idiot, right? Can’t even handle a single situation like this.”
Her voice carried the weight of self-reproach. I straightened my posture from where I’d been leaning against the window frame.
“You don’t need to force it.”
“What?”
“Just cover it over and accept it. Overcoming fear doesn’t mean the fear vanishes completely. Even when your breath catches and your legs shake, you take one step forward anyway—doing what you have to do in that very state. That’s all there is to it.”
Days long past, when I’d had to grip a sword in a hell where the flesh of countless comrades splattered and bone crumbled.
That terrible fear had never once disappeared, not even until the moment of destruction.
I’d simply learned to scar over that fear and endure its weight, becoming accustomed to wielding the blade beneath it.
At my words, Se-hui released her grip on the carry-on’s strap and smiled bitterly.
“Easy to say. You were born ice-cold, so you don’t know fear like that, do you? Always walking around with that blank expression.”
“I do.”
The short words settled into the compartment.
“I have it. Which is why I know better than anyone.”
Se-hui’s pupils dilated slightly. She was parting her lips to ask something in return when—
“Wait.”
I was watching the rotating cartridge.
Blue points of light were blinking at regular intervals. On the surface, it was operating normally. But every seventh pulse, there was a brief, minute gap.
It wasn’t an output failure.
The mana inside the cartridge was being pulled elsewhere for an instant, then returning.
[Successor, I have detected an external Synchronization signal.]
[Source tracking is impossible.]
[Positional data is lost due to Phase Interference from the Luciella Barrier.]
As Airi reported, the contents of the black envelope came to mind.
Biometric Response Cartridge.
Equipment that synchronizes with a person’s pulse and mana cycle.
“What’s wrong? Is it broken?”
Se-hui reached out to tap at the control console.
“Don’t touch it.”
I caught her wrist and stopped her.
Seven times again.
The blue light pulsed six times normally, then dimmed faintly on the seventh beat.
It was as if some vast heart were drawing every cartridge in the Academy toward itself in the same rhythm.
“It’s not a normal output delay.”
“Then what is it?”
“Someone outside is Synchronizing with it.”
Se-hui’s expression hardened.
“That’s impossible. Each cartridge uses a closed circuit. To receive external commands, you’d have to physically connect a control module…”
“If you’re not sending commands but touching the mana’s rhythm itself, it’s possible.”
I placed my fingers on the cover.
A subtle vibration traveled up my fingertips and along my arm. The wavelength was unfamiliar, yet oddly reminiscent.
The sorcery I’d confirmed in Hong Tae-hwa’s soul bore no signs of forced intrusion. It had taken root seamlessly, woven into the host’s wavelength without resistance.
The method was strikingly similar.
“Se-hui.”
“Yes?”
“Once we’re inside the Academy, secure all real-time operational records of your company’s cartridges.”
“What if the client is blocking the server?”
“Then we find out who’s doing the blocking.”
Se-hui nodded, her lips pressed tight.
Vrrrrmmmmm—!
The monorail’s operating noise grew rough, and the morning sunlight pouring into the compartment began to refract into geometric colors.
I looked out the window. Beyond the monorail’s track, the moment we passed through the massive obsidian outer wall, a colossal structure loomed into view, piercing the sky, filling my vision entirely.
“Wow… it really is impossibly huge.”
Jung Se-hui leaned both hands against the window and breathed out in wonder.
The Dome of Light—Luciella.
It was an enormous hemispherical Mana crystalline structure that enveloped the entire Academy Main Building.
By day it absorbed sunlight and radiated a brilliant silver-white luminescence; by night it burned thousands of tons of stored Mana, painting the sky a deep blue—the absolute core of a Barrier without equal.
Among the global standard Academy specifications mandated by the Hunter Association across the world, Luciella in Ganghwa Island Waters boasted the third-largest scale on Earth.
There was only one reason South Korea could possess an inheritance of such tremendous magnitude.
The overwhelming achievements of Lee Do-hyun—a first-generation Archmage and humanity’s hero—and the pure essence of Mana Control techniques he had left behind.
The Ivory Tower had perfected this magnificent Dome of Light, nourished by the blood and tears of a hero.
Crackle—
The Monorail crossed through the boundary of the Luciella dome.
A high-density compressed Mana Barrier grazed the skin with a sharp, unpleasant sensation that rippled across the entire body.
The very phase of space twisted subtly, and the interior of the massive dome swallowed us whole like the mouth of a beast.
Beyond the painfully brilliant silver-white radiance, the heart of the Academy came into view.

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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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