The Son-In-Law of the Magician Is a Transcendent Sword Master - Chapter 146

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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 146
“…Match, concluded.”
Valen raised the golden flag with a bewildered expression.
Silence blanketed the Outdoor Stage.
A duel between Yusephine Airid, the heir of Iridia, and Lyrnia von Benheim, the direct bloodline of Benheim.
Given the obvious difference in rank, everyone had predicted Lyrnia’s victory.
Yet no one seemed to have anticipated that the outcome would be decided in less than a minute—let alone through a hard-fought struggle.
To be honest, I hadn’t expected it to be this decisive either.
‘…Hm.’
Lyrnia had dismantled Yusephine’s desperate prismatic magic with merely a few Rune spells.
She possessed a complete understanding of the power and effects inherent to the five-color spectrum.
In those brief ten seconds, Yusephine’s improvisation had been remarkable, yet she was utterly helpless against it.
The reason Lyrnia, a member of Benheim’s bloodline, understood Iridia’s unique magical formula as though it were her own family’s magic was….
‘Me.’
None other than myself.
Certainly, through traveling and fighting alongside Lyrnia, I had cast prismatic magic multiple times whenever necessary. Watching from her side like that, she would have naturally grown familiar with it.
However, understanding the blind spots of a Great Magic Family’s intricate unique formula through merely observing it a few times was an entirely different matter.
I hadn’t directly taught her the principles, and Lyrnia had simply observed my magic from beside me.
Yet the profound depth of understanding she had achieved was largely attributable to Lyrnia’s own talent.
A mage destined to ascend to 8th Rank in the near future, one who would transcend human limitations—this moment truly exemplified that extraordinary gift.
“Mm…. T-the next match is….”
Even Valen, it seemed, hadn’t anticipated this outcome, stammering as he read from the bracket.
Green and black.
A duel between Rashek el Maelern and Sheril.
“Ooh! To finally test my strength against the legendary Shadow Queen—what an honor!”
“Yes, well…. I’m pleased to meet you as well.”
Rashek eagerly assumed his stance with fists raised, but the moment the whistle sounded, Sheril swept her long robe dramatically and raised both hands.
“I forfeit.”
“Huh?”
Rashek’s expression fell like that of a puppy denied its walk, while Sheril returned to her seat with a languid yawn.
“You could have at least sparred with me for a moment.”
“Do you truly believe it appropriate for a Lord of the Seven Great Mage Towers to participate in such childish games? The disparity in standing is too great. And what if, by some chance, I were to lose?”
“The latter reason is the real one, isn’t it?”
“How perceptive.”
Sheril winked with one eye.
In this regard, she was quite pragmatic.
Yet Sheril’s reasoning wasn’t without merit. If word spread that a Lord of the Seven Great Mage Towers had been defeated by a junior mage, it would prove troublesome in many ways. Given that she had recently unified and commanded the Dark Mage Guild, she had no choice but to cling to her authority as a Tower Lord. Conversely, even victory would yield nothing of particular value.
However, Rashek could hardly be expected to understand Sheril’s circumstances. Unable to contain his surging competitive spirit, Rashek only regained his composure after Saya struck him on the back of the head.
Thus, the next match was between gold number one and gold number three—a duel between Arno, the heir, and Brock, the collateral branch representative.
And the outcome was as predictable as fire.
“…I learned a thing or two.”
Brock fought valiantly, but the gap in skill proved insurmountable, and he conceded defeat.
However, the crowd’s reaction was far from enthusiastic.
Arno’s achievement was certainly impressive, but it paled in comparison to his younger sister’s overwhelming martial prowess displayed moments before.
“…See? Everyone’s reacting the same way.”
Arno grumbled in frustration, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“Your spirit’s already broken?”
“No, not yet. An older brother doesn’t lose to his younger sister.”
Arno rekindled his fighting spirit, but….
“…Hmm! I see now—I simply cannot overcome Renia! This is my defeat!”
Watching the next match unfold, where Rashek el Maelern, a 6th Rank mage, couldn’t even touch a single strand of Renia’s hair before falling to defeat, I felt my shoulders sag once more.
No matter how hollow-headed Rashek might be, as befits a successor of the Great Magic Families, his combat instincts were exceptional. Yet Renia toyed with him as though he were a child. She read every move and countered with flawless precision.
“You’re too predictable, Rashek.”
Renia spoke with a triumphant smile.
“You fight exactly like Reagan. Actually, you’re even more straightforward than he is. I can see all your schemes.”
“…Ugh.”
It seemed Renia had observed my martial techniques from over my shoulder and applied them to suppress Rashek.
“Rashek, next time try using spirits more creatively. Mindlessly swinging your fists isn’t everything.”
Renia deliberately stroked the wind spirit perched on her shoulder, Swiftstone, as if to prove her point. Thus, Renia was applying Rashek’s specialty—spirit magic—to combat as naturally as if it were her own original technique.
‘…Am I creating a monster?’
I had deliberately avoided acknowledging it until now, but the realization struck me with piercing clarity. Over the past three years spent together, Lyrnia Erahan von Benheim had undergone nothing short of overwhelming growth.
What was even more terrifying was that her current level was far from her limit. She had reached 8th Rank during the war. In other words, Renia, who was now steadily accumulating real combat experience and learning techniques, would surpass her previous life’s achievements far more rapidly than before.
While that fact was alarming, it also filled me with a sense of pride. Watching Renia prove her abilities without reservation before everyone and earn their recognition stirred something warm within me.
“Reagan, your smile is quite wide.”
“Ahem….”
At Sheril’s remark, I cleared my throat and straightened my expression.
In any case, the exchange meeting continued. Renia advanced with unstoppable momentum, crushing every opponent she faced on the bracket. No late-stage mage possessed the power to overcome her overwhelming martial prowess.
And thus, finally.
The finals of the exchange meeting arrived.
“The final match is… Gold Bracket 1 versus Gold Bracket 2.”
In the end, the two siblings from Benheim, who had started at opposite ends of the bracket, met at the summit.
This must have been satisfying for Steren. After all, two direct heirs of Benheim had reached the finals of the exchange meeting.
However, Arno himself did not appear pleased.
“…Sigh.”
Rather, Arno heaved a sigh as though the earth itself were collapsing, then trudged onto the platform like livestock being led to slaughter.
In the end, it took exactly three minutes for Renia to claim victory over Arno. Since he lasted a full minute longer than Rashek had, one might say he salvaged some dignity, but the ashen pallor of Arno’s face suggested his pride had suffered an indelible wound.
“…With this, the champion is Lyrnia Erahan von Benheim.”
Valen announced the exchange meeting’s victor in a somewhat subdued tone, and Renia grinned widely, raising one fist in triumph.
However, no thunderous cheers followed. Renia’s overwhelming skill was so dominant for what was meant to be a gathering of late-stage mages that the spectators were left speechless.
Just as it seemed the Great Mage Alliance Exchange Meeting would end as Renia’s solo performance, that moment arrived.
“Uncle Valen, we can’t end it yet. There’s still the final match, isn’t there?”
Renia suddenly spoke up. A final match, when the champion had already been decided?
Valen frowned, but Renia turned her head silently and gazed at a single point in the spectator stands.
Our eyes met—those iris-blue eyes and mine.
In other words….
“Reagan, what are you doing? Come up here. Were you planning to just watch from the sidelines?”
“….”
Renia had finally called me out by name.
* * *
Thinking about it now, it’s rather striking, but during our Resistance Army days, Renia and I had never once seriously tested our strength against each other.
There were several reasons. First, I primarily sparred with key figures of the Resistance Army like Brock and Valen to build our coordination. Since we were all men, there was no need to hold back in combat.
Conversely, from Renia’s perspective, there was little reason to spar with a swordsman like me. I was an irregular—called the natural enemy of mages, far removed from an ordinary swordsman—and since the Resistance Army primarily faced Black Mages rather than swordsmen, she saw no necessity in crossing blades with me.
Thus, a formal confrontation between Renia and me was… for the first time in this life, happening right now.
“Renia, do we really have to do this?”
I climbed onto the platform, practically dragged there, and spoke to Renia, who was warming up across from me.
“Of course. We need to settle clearly who has the upper hand between us. It’ll make things easier later.”
“….”
Renia’s stubbornness was legendary. Now that we’d come this far, I had no choice but to dance to her tune.
“…Renia, let me give you some advice—you can never beat me.”
“Maybe not. But you don’t know the difference between long and short until you try, right?”
Renia grinned wickedly.
Meanwhile, the spectator stands were heating up far more intensely than during the previous matches. Part of it was due to the clash between two of the most promising late-stage mages, but the real spectacle was the current situation—husband and wife facing off against each other.
I sighed and spoke.
“Fine, Renia. But I’ll impose a handicap on myself. I won’t use my sword or aura.”
“Hmm. It stings my pride a bit… but I suppose that’s only fair.”
Renia nodded readily. Thus, I took my stance.
Fighting Renia without swordsmanship or aura, relying solely on magic, was going to be considerably difficult.
As I could see from how Renia faced Yusephine and Rashek earlier, she already knows my moves inside and out. Not just spectral magic and angular techniques, but even blade magic would be no exception.
‘…I feel completely exposed.’
And yet….
‘The same goes for Renia.’
I know Renia very well. Better, perhaps, than she currently knows me.
In my past life, Renia and I stood back-to-back for a long time. Because of that, I remembered every habit, every breathing pattern she had when deploying magic. And I’d seen things in this life too, so there’s no need to elaborate.
‘Wait a moment….’
In that instant, a brilliant stratagem flashed through my mind.
I know how Renia manipulates her mana. I understand well the principles by which rune magic goes through the processes of recognition, construction, and manifestation. Moreover, I possess the constitution to see through the very core of mana with both eyes.
Most critically, I have the Archmage King’s Cloak to expand my vision, and Surtr’s Ashes to elevate the caliber of my magic.
In other words, I could attempt a technique that my current level should never be capable of.
‘Let me try it.’
I retrieved the Archmage King’s Cloak from Andvari’s Cube and draped it over my shoulders. Then I placed my right hand over the bracelet on my left wrist—Surtr’s Ashes.
Zing—.
My vision “opened,” and the surrounding space reconstructed itself into a lattice of black and white points and lines. Simultaneously, my right hand, raised above Surtr’s embers, burned with searing heat.
The preparations were complete.
“Renia, I’ll concede the first strike.”
“Aren’t you awfully confident? You’re going to bite off more than you can chew.”
Renia chuckled softly, then raised both hands and immediately began chanting a Rune spell without hesitation.
Algiz (ᛉ), Uruz (ᚢ), Hagalaz (ᚺ).
A Rune spell combination Renia favored. Her intent was transparent—she meant to summon an intangible barrier of physical force to restrict my movements.
However, I raised my right hand just before Renia’s spell reached the “construction” stage.
“Huu….”
I took a shallow breath and focused my mind.
Interfering with another’s mana to disrupt their incantation required an overwhelming difference in rank.
Yet I knew Renia’s mana manipulation habits precisely, and I had completely mastered the structure of the Rune spell she now wielded.
Moreover, through my special vision, I could interfere at the core without wasteful mana expenditure, and through Surtr’s embers, I had temporarily elevated the “rank” of my own mana.
In other words, such a thing was possible.
Snap!
The instant I flicked my fingers, Renia’s incantation vanished without a trace.
“…What?”
Renia made a sharp sound and stared at me intently. She clearly suspected I had pulled some trick. Yet I merely stood with my right hand raised.
Renia furrowed her brow and cast a Rune spell again at a speed far faster than before, but….
Snap.
As I flicked my fingers again, Renia’s spell scattered once more.
Once is coincidence; twice is inevitability.
In the silence, one of the mages in the spectator stands spoke up.
“…Hey, could this possibly be… ‘Dispel’?”
Dispel.
Literally, a technique that interferes with an opponent’s spell before they can cast it, unraveling it.
Though called a spell, Dispel was not classified as a formal magic in its own category. Rather, it fell into the realm of technique and trickery, distinct from orthodox magic.
Since interfering with an opponent’s spell artificially required an overwhelming gap in rank and considerable finesse, Dispel was a technique synonymous with Grand Mages. In my previous life, most mages who employed Dispel in actual combat were individuals who had surpassed the 7th Rank barrier.
Yet my current level was 6th Rank.
Naturally, what I had cast was not true Dispel. It was a workaround made possible only because I knew Renia’s mana manipulation habits intimately, combined with my special vision and several other converging conditions.
“…This is impossible. How could a 6th Rank mage use Dispel….”
“A trick?”
“No way…. Even I could see it was perfect Dispel.”
Yet regardless of the trick I had employed, what I had just accomplished appeared to the spectators as Dispel itself.
“…Not bad.”
I grinned wickedly and flicked my fingers toward Renia.
This was perfect for seizing the initiative.
However, in the next moment, I realized I had made a grave mistake.
“You said you’d concede the first strike.”
Renia clenched both fists tightly, her cheeks puffed out to their fullest extent.
“…That’s terrible.”
In other words, Renia was sulking.
And quite thoroughly at that.

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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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