The Son-In-Law of the Magician Is a Transcendent Sword Master - Chapter 102
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 102
Inside the completely dark prison.
Lashelle stared blankly at a single point on the ceiling.
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed. When she resisted fiercely inside the prison, Vera irritably forced sleeping drugs down her throat. When she came to her senses, she was alone.
Elisia, who had been in one corner of the prison… no, even her shell had now disappeared somewhere.
She couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Since the Shadow Tower was underground, not a single ray of light penetrated through.
Lashelle sat slumped in a daze, ruminating on her own situation.
‘…I did something stupid.’
Because of her sense of debt to Elisia, she had returned to this hell of her own accord.
As a result, she had caused worry for everyone in Benheim too.
‘Why did I do such a thing…’
Lashelle looked at the silver button clutched tightly in her hand.
And as a final act of petulance, she had pressed this button.
How would Reagan act upon seeing her signal?
‘Maybe… I shouldn’t have pressed it.’
Now, belated regret came flooding in.
She hoped Benheim wouldn’t risk danger for someone like her.
On the other hand, she hoped anyone would come bursting through the door.
Perhaps someone with such selfish thoughts had no right to survive.
As she was drowning alone in a swamp of self-blame for a while.
Rumble.
Suddenly, vibrations rang out.
At the dust falling from the ceiling, Lashelle slowly raised her head.
And…
Crash!
The entire wall collapsed and thick dust billowed up.
Through that gap, a woman wearing a white uniform completely opposite to the Shadow Tower’s black robes walked in.
“…Miss Renia?”
It was none other than Benheim’s young lady, Renia.
She looked around the prison and brightened when she spotted Lashelle.
“Ah, Sheril! I finally found you!”
“…Miss?”
Lashelle doubted her own eyes. Why was Renia, who should be safely in Benheim Estate, in the deep underground prison of the Shadow Tower?
“I’ve been looking for you for ages, Sheril. Were you trapped in a place like this? You must have been really bored.”
Renia, who had casually destroyed the iron door and entered, lowered her posture to meet Lashelle’s eye level.
Then, as if suddenly remembering, she pulled out a purple medicine bottle from her bosom and handed it over.
“Take this. It’s yours, isn’t it, Sheril?”
Dew of Illusion.
Lashelle’s eyes widened.
Surely, it must be the item that Vera had taken from her just a while ago…
“Miss, this elixir… how on earth did you find it?”
“Over there.”
Renia shrugged and pointed beyond the hole she had broken through.
Beyond the collapsed hole in the corridor, Vera and Sierra lay unconscious with their eyes rolled back.
“…Did you… defeat those two?”
“Yeah. They were all talk but weak.”
Though Renia spoke jokingly, Lashelle immediately realized.
The density of mana currently flowing around Renia’s body was distinctly different from what she had felt before.
“Don’t tell me… Miss, have you reached the 6th Rank?”
“Hehe. You noticed? I was trying to win somehow and the barrier naturally broke through. Reagan probably reached the 6th Rank with this same feeling, right?”
“…”
That wasn’t something that could be explained with the word ‘naturally.’
Breaking through ranks in the middle of battle was truly miraculous, impossible without absurd talent and determination.
Renia herself brushed it off as if it were nothing and asked Sheril.
“Anyway, Sheril. How’s your physical condition?”
Soon Renia looked at Lashelle’s hands. All ten fingernails had been pulled out, leaving a miserable sight of dried blood clots.
“Did those two do this?”
“N-no… Mother did…”
“Mother? You mean the Archmage?”
“…Yes.”
Renia took a small deep breath as if trying to suppress her anger, then forced a smile.
“Wait. I’ll treat you now.”
Renia frowned deeply and pulled out disinfectant from her bosom, beginning to apply it to Lashelle’s hands.
However, in the process, Lashelle couldn’t help but notice a long wound on Renia’s side.
A deep stab wound. Renia’s pure white uniform was completely stained red from waist to pelvis. It was evidence of severe bleeding.
“M-Miss… that wound on your side…”
“Ah, it’s fine. I’ve stopped the bleeding.”
Renia replied nonchalantly and tried to wrap bandages, but Lashelle bit her lips tightly and hung her head low.
“…”
The young miss had suffered such a severe wound trying to save her. This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t fled Benheim like a runaway.
Suddenly her vision blurred. Tears flowed out. It was because her tension had relaxed thanks to Renia.
“Sheril, that’s not like you. Were you actually a crybaby?”
“…I’m sorry. Because of me… you, Miss… It would be better if I just died…”
The moment the word death came from Lashelle’s mouth.
Thud.
Renia roughly grabbed Lashelle’s shoulders.
When she raised her head, Renia had an extremely displeased expression.
“Sheril, everything else is fine. I can accept any amount of whining. But… I won’t tolerate talk about being better off dead. I might really get angry.”
At that tone, Lashelle’s shoulders trembled with a start.
However, what was contained in Renia’s eyes wasn’t reproach.
“You running away and coming back here again must all have reasons. But giving up on life is a different matter. That… I won’t allow. Reagan would be the same, and so would anyone in Benheim.”
Renia’s words naturally brought a man’s voice to mind in Lashelle’s head.
– Don’t make grand excuses about loyalty or duty. You just have no attachment to your own life.
It was what Reagan had said in the Archmage’s domain.
At that time, Lashelle had been quite shocked to learn that what she thought was a fate she’d carried her entire life looked like mere excuses to someone else.
“Don’t do that anymore. Sheril, live for yourself. Survive somehow. What’s so important about that mother of yours? If you don’t like her, give her a good kick in the butt.”
And now.
Even Renia was saying exactly the same thing as Reagan.
– So remember this. From now on, just figure out how to survive stubbornly somehow.
Lashelle stared blankly at Renia.
Why were these two people so determined to keep her alive?
Was it okay for someone like her to survive so wretchedly?
“…I was only… looking for a place to die.”
“Yeah. Reagan said the same thing.”
“…”
“No.”
Looking at the miss speaking firmly, Lashelle bit her lips.
In terms of years, it was a thirty-year life.
The first ten years she lived as an orphan in the back alleys.
The next ten years she lived as Lashelle, the sub-master of the Shadow Tower.
And for the past ten years, she had lived as Sheril, a maid of Benheim.
Then, who should she live as for the next ten years?
“Choosing your life is your role. Sheril, it’s for you to decide.”
Those words became the catalyst.
Lashelle nodded while choking back tears.
“Yes. I… don’t want to die either.”
“Good. You thought well. Then let’s live.”
Lashelle somehow managed to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile.
Soon her face flushed red.
She felt quite embarrassed about being comforted by Renia, who was ten years younger, and even having her tears wiped away.
“Let’s go.”
“Where… are we going?”
“Downstairs, where your mother is. Reagan is probably there too.”
“…”
Mother. Arania.
The moment that name came up, her body naturally stiffened.
For Lashelle, that existence had been an object of terror that had weighed her down her entire life.
Renia seemed to notice that fear and gently massaged Lashelle’s shoulders.
“Sheril, there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ve become independent. You’re not the Shadow Tower’s sub-tower lord, but Benheim’s maid.”
“…That’s right. I am…”
Not Lashelle Shady.
Benheim’s exclusive maid, Sheril.
As she reminded herself of that fact, was it perhaps reckless courage that suddenly surged within her?
It didn’t matter anymore.
“Let’s go, Miss.”
Lashelle.
No, Sheril clenched her bloodied hands tightly and stood up.
“To go kick my stepmother’s ass.”
“Haha. That sounds good.”
* * *
The situation was not good.
Arania Morian Shaydi thought this while continuously unleashing dark magic.
Currently, the enemies facing Arania were three 6th Rank mages. Two Mage Tower Lords and one of Benheim’s sons-in-law.
Objectively speaking, it was considerable power, but it posed no problem at all for Arania, a fully matured 7th Rank Archmage.
‘There’s no way I’d struggle against these insects.’
Arania had accumulated infinite knowledge and mana by transferring bodies for decades. Even if they slightly twisted the environment and launched coordinated attacks, it might be troublesome but she could never lose.
Yes.
That’s how it should have been.
‘…Why is this happening?’
However, strangely, no decisive blow was landing.
The battle situation was still overwhelmingly in Arania’s favor. Arania’s dark magic was destroying the stone pillars of the audience chamber, rotting the thorn vines, and driving Melchior and Rosalindr into a corner.
But the battle showed no signs of ending. The dark magic Arania unleashed never reached their vital points.
The reason was… because of that man currently swinging his sword right in front of her.
‘Reagan von Benheim…’
Swoosh!
Reagan swung his Ether River blade. As shadow serpents rushed forward, he dodged by a hair’s breadth as if he knew their path. Even surprise attacks from behind were futilely thwarted by rune magic.
Currently in this audience chamber, the person making Arania struggle more than anyone else was Reagan.
A mere novice at the beginning of 6th Rank was seeing through and countering Arania’s magic.
‘…I can’t understand it.’
She knew his talent well. Wasn’t he a prodigy that the entire magic world was watching?
Even so, this was far too excessive.
Reagan was dealing with Arania’s magic ‘far too well.’
His movements had no hesitation. His eyes accurately tracked the trajectories of magic.
He was skilled to the point of being experienced.
Even the elders of the Dark Mage Guild wouldn’t be able to handle her magic this perfectly.
‘…Does he have experience fighting dark mages?’
Even so, fighting once or twice couldn’t make him this experienced.
Unless he had studied the magic system of dark magic his entire life.
‘Or… is it because of those eyes?’
Reagan von Benheim had the same eyes as Damian Carius.
A blessed body that could see through the core of magic. Just moments ago, he had accurately attacked Arania’s true body while she was casting stealth magic.
That was also why Arania couldn’t kill Reagan. Since he was the perfect body she wanted to possess next, she had to subdue him with as few injuries as possible.
However, that constraint was now holding Arania back.
Flash!
Reagan raised Eclair and shot out red spectral magic.
The moment Arania swept it away with shadows, Reagan leaped.
Swoosh!
Reagan swung his sword. Arania’s black robe was greatly torn and cool air touched her bare skin.
“…”
It was already shameful to have taken this long against a young brat, and now he dared to scratch her body.
Crack.
Her teeth ground together. Killing intent boiled up uncontrollably. Because of those eyes, a battle that should have ended long ago was dragging on.
‘…At this rate, it’s troublesome.’
She had to end this quickly.
Because Arania’s extended senses detected a massive surge of mana from the upper floor.
‘Steren… I didn’t expect even that guy to come.’
Steren von Benheim had burst into the inner corridor.
For now, the dark mages and Shadow Daughters on the upper floor would somehow buy time, but the opponent was one of the strongest mages of the current era.
Even Arania had no chance of victory in a direct confrontation with him.
There was only one way to clash with Steren and achieve victory.
‘Somehow subdue that guy and steal his body.’
If she could claim a new and perfect vessel, defeating Steren wouldn’t be impossible.
However, the coordination between Reagan and the two tower lords was endlessly tenacious. Every time Reagan showed an opening, Melchior’s earth surged up and Rosalindr’s vines grabbed at ankles.
Then she had to deal with the two tower lords first.
“…Huu.”
Arania let out a deep sigh.
It was a technique that put extreme strain on her aging body, so she had avoided it as much as possible, but now there was no choice.
“…It can’t be helped.”
Arania lowered both arms and withdrew all the dark magic that had been filling the audience chamber.
Then she began madly absorbing all the shadows from around her into her body.
Her unstable body, having reached its limit, screamed and creaked, but she paid no heed and raised her mana beyond its threshold.
“…Ignorant fools. How dare you breathe upon my shadow, thinking you’re safe.”
The 7th Rank of the modern magic system is not a level that can be reached simply by having a large amount of mana.
Unlike mages up to 6th Rank who conform to the providence set by the world, 7th Rank Archmages temporarily overlay their own mental images onto the world as they please.
That is manifestation.
The secret technique and authority of Archmages.
Gurgle.
The air in the audience chamber changed.
Arania’s explosive mana was defying the world’s providence.
It’s not that one can use manifestation because they’re 7th Rank.
She was 7th Circle precisely because she could use Manifestation.
Soon, pitch-black darkness spread like a tidal wave from beneath Arania’s feet.
The density of space, the texture of air, the very physical laws themselves began to twist grotesquely.
“Manifestation — Shadow Erosion.”
Arania overlaid her mental image upon the natural order.
In this space, shadows are heavier than substance.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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