Chapter 2: The Master Who Falls Asleep at the Drop of a Hat
"The magic you just used... what race did it belong to?"
In the Age of Myth, most forms of magic and divine arts were designed with a singular purpose: to kill the target. She had never witnessed spells as purely convenient as the ones Rhodes had just demonstrated.
"I created them myself."
Rhodes's words once again left Serie stunned.
"You... created them?"
The creation of magic was a feat that bordered on the realm of demigods. But the human before her was far too weak to have possibly reached such a level. What Serie didn't know was that the magic of this era was so terrifyingly potent that creating a new spell of equivalent destructive power was immensely difficult, requiring power on par with a demigod. But as eras passed, most mages would no longer require such devastating power, turning instead to researching more convenient forms of magic. That would be the true dawning of the great age of magic.
For now, however, Rhodes was the only one who could create magic.
"Yes. But I haven't been able to create any offensive spells yet. That's why I hope you can teach me a few things."
Serie stared intently at Rhodes. If this man could use magic, it meant he possessed mana within his body. The question was, did he have enough to cast an offensive spell?
"Very well. Follow me," Serie said, a curious smile gracing her lips.
She led Rhodes away from the Great Elven Forest and into a wide, open clearing.
"Watch closely."
At this point in her life, Serie couldn't yet manifest spells with a mere thought as she would in later ages. Her specialty was the light and plant-based magic unique to the elves.
Serie raised her hand. The light in the air began to coalesce, forming a dazzling arrow of light. The arrow shot forth, instantly piercing a massive boulder in the distance. A moment later, the boulder exploded into a shower of fragments. Clearly, Serie's attack was more complex than a simple piercing strike.
Rhodes's eyes widened. The power was truly terrifying. He also couldn't help but wonder why Serie didn't need a staff to cast her spells.
Serie lowered her hand and spoke nonchalantly. "This is the most fundamental offensive technique of the elves. One condenses the element of light and attacks with it." She turned to Rhodes. "Well? Can you create it?"
This was a test for the man before her. If he couldn't even comprehend and create the most basic of elven spells, then he was nothing more than a purveyor of clever little tricks. Amusing, perhaps, but not worthy of her attention.
Rhodes took a deep breath. He was fortunate Serie hadn't unleashed a spell that ripped space apart or summoned a black hole; he certainly wouldn't have understood that. Since the principle involved gathering light from the air, it was still within his realm of understanding.
"I'll try," he nodded.
He closed his eyes, recalling the motion of Serie's spell casting, including the way mana flowed through her body. His thoughts, however, remained stubbornly scientific.
If you condense light, is it similar to a laser? But if so, how does that cause the subsequent explosion?
Serie's attack wasn't just a simple piercing shaft; it carried a delayed explosive force. Rhodes wanted to replicate it perfectly.
He raised his hand, mimicking Serie's gesture. The light of mana gathered at his fingertips, but it failed to form a proper arrow like hers. Instead, it was a hazy, unstable orb of light. The orb wobbled forward a short distance before popping with a soft paf, dissolving into a sprinkle of luminous dust.
Rhodes gave an awkward laugh. "Perhaps I could try again?"
Serie's brow furrowed slightly. "Your control over mana is far too crude. And... why do I sense no killing intent in your magic?"
Rhodes was taken aback. "Killing intent?" How was he supposed to imbue a spell with an emotion? This was a concept Rhodes truly could not grasp.
"Magic is a reflection of the caster's mind. As for killing intent..." Serie paused, then raised her small hand and repeated the same gesture as before.
"Like this."
A strange smile touched her lips. In that instant, Rhodes felt a bone-chilling killing intent radiating from Serie. It was the first time he had felt something so powerful, an aura so palpable it made him shiver involuntarily.
An arrow of light shot past his ear, striking the ground in the distance with a thunderous explosion.
"Well? Did you feel it?"
It took Rhodes a moment to recover. He looked at Serie, at the angelic smile on her face, and felt a cold dread creep through his body. It was terrifying that she could produce such an effect merely by projecting her will. This was indeed a world of fantasy; nothing could be explained away by common sense.
He finally understood. Magic here wasn't science. It was something more akin to faith, or perhaps... the power of imagination.
"I felt it. It's just... feeling killing intent towards a rock feels a bit strange."
"In that case, use me as your target."
"Is that really alright?" Rhodes hesitated. If he accidentally hurt his powerful new companion, he would regret it for the rest of his short life.
"Do not underestimate me, you mere human." Serie had no doubt that this weak human could not possibly harm her, especially with a basic elven spell. Still, just to be safe, she cast a defensive barrier on herself.
"Imagine it," Serie's voice was cold, as if she were talking about someone else entirely. "Imagine how you would use magic to pierce my body, to kill me."
"No, I couldn't bear to do that," Rhodes muttered to himself, but he dutifully began to imagine the scene. It was absurd that an offensive spell from the Age of Myth had such a prerequisite.
Emptying his mind of science, elements, and physics, Rhodes focused solely on believing in the power of his thoughts. He embraced what one might call the principle of 'I think, therefore it pierces.'
I reckon this arrow of light can pierce the little Master standing before me!
A blinding light, far more brilliant than anything Serie had produced, coalesced in front of Rhodes. Even Serie, who had lived for hundreds of years, felt an unexpected jolt of fear from the depths of her soul.
Why? she thought, a sense of disbelief washing over her. The killing intent is so shallow, so weak... why am I afraid?
But Rhodes didn't give her any more time to think.
The light before him didn't just form one arrow. It formed dozens. With a final surge, the volley shot forward, tearing through the air itself.
Watching the storm of light arrows flying toward her, Serie finally believed him. This human truly possessed the gift of Creation.
She hastily threw up several more defensive barriers, but the sheer number of projectiles overwhelmed her. She was thrown backward, collapsing to the ground, unconscious.
Ah, the benefit of a young Grand Master: she falls asleep at the drop of a hat.