The Wizard Has A Biochip

That was exactly when it happened.

TCHAK!

A sharp pain shot through the young man’s face.

His eyes widened.

A silver dagger had pierced his chest from behind.

— Ugh!

Blood spilled from his mouth.

The figure that had been trapped in the web of blazing fire...

Shattered like glass.

CRASH!

At the same time, a hoarse and cruel voice whispered beside the young man’s ear.

— In this place, Peak Level 3 acolytes mean nothing.

Rustil pulled out the dagger.

— Remember that the next time you decide to make unnecessary jokes about someone else’s sister.

He took a step back.

— Even if she is a prostitute and has legs worthy of praise... this is the path of magic she chose to follow.

Rustil then completely pulled the blade from the young man’s chest.

Two steps back.

And simply stared at him.

The Pseudo-Mage’s face was covered in sweat.

Not just because of the pain.

He was scared.

Rustil’s speed was absurd.

The young man suppressed the pain and quickly took a pulsating red potion from his bag.

He drank half.

He poured the other half over the wound.

The result was immediate.

The flesh began to close.

Within a few seconds, the enormous wound had disappeared.

Only a bloody scab remained.

Which soon fell to the ground.

Rustil whistled.

— Damn. I should have used poison.

—I guess that’s the only way you Pseudo-Mages would learn a lesson.

—After all, you have plenty of good things, don’t you?

—I should have made the wound bigger.

—Now you know why they call me Rustil, the Deadly Dagger.

His eyes turned cold.

—I always like attacking the enemy’s back.

He put the blades away.

—The next time you’re looking for trouble, remember to be careful.

The young Pseudo-Mage clenched his jaw.

But he didn’t answer.

He had no intention of provoking him again.

Beside him, the other Pseudo-Mage frowned.

He had also understood that this place was different.

Very different.

However...

What truly frightened those two was not Rustil’s aggressiveness.

It was his ability.

I observed carefully.

First.

He had not used spatial magic.

If he had, there should have been a perceptible spatial ripple.

There wasn’t.

Second.

It was also not a simple shadow clone technique.

The false figure possessed its own magical presence.

I could understand why everyone had been deceived.

I was probably the only person there capable of seeing the entire process.

My Biochip had recorded everything.

[Analysis complete.]

[Ability detected.]

[Probable classification: Hypnosis.]

My eyes narrowed.

Rustil had never disappeared.

He had simply deceived our senses.

He had used his innate magical ability to alter the perception of the enemy’s five senses.

The clone wasn’t exactly a clone.

It was an illusion so convincing that the target’s brain accepted that existence as real.

Rustil had remained standing still.

The entire time.

Then, while the Pseudo-Mage believed he was fighting that illusory figure, he turned his body and exposed his back.

And that was when the real Rustil attacked.

He was an assassin like Ruby and therefore a non-conventional mage.

An acolyte who had chosen to combine his innate magical ability with physical combat.

According to what my Biochip had recorded, his speed was probably between 10 and 12 points.

Only slightly below the speed I had observed in Mary.

If Rustil actually began moving at maximum speed...

Very few people there would be able to keep up with his movements.

Perhaps only my Biochip would be capable of precisely locating his true position.

It was then that I realized something even more important.

Among all types of mages...

Assassins with high agility, like Ruby and Rustil, were one of the greatest threats to elemental acolytes.

Especially those who relied on offensive spells.

An elemental mage needed time to prepare the spell, aim, and also needed to maintain distance.

An assassin needed none of that.

He only needed an opening.

And when that opening appeared...

It was enough to kill.

I glanced sideways at Ruby.

She was still frowning.

Despite her own speed and experience in close-quarters combat, she had also failed to completely understand Rustil’s trick.

I gently touched her arm.

Ruby looked at me.

I moved a little closer and murmured.

— He’s using Hypnosis.

Her eyes narrowed.

For a few seconds, she remained silent.

Then she looked back at Rustil.

Now that she knew the secret...

Perhaps she would begin to see the battle in a different way.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Led by the rogue mage Rustil, the group of acolytes soon arrived at a rather worn stone room located on the first floor of the great Kar-Dur Magic Tower.

The walls were made of enormous stone blocks darkened by time.

There were several cracks running across the ceiling and walls, while some magical torches attached to iron brackets provided weak, yellowish lighting.

It wasn’t exactly the kind of place someone would expect from a great magic tower.

But, after everything I had already seen in that world, it no longer surprised me.

Rustil opened the door and entered first.

We followed him.

As soon as I entered, my eyes swept across the room.

There, we finally met the other members of the mission.

Of the ten apprentices who had signed up for the investigation mission of the Underground Cave, three were Pseudo-Mages.

The first was Monak, from the Mushroom Forest, in the Territory of Lurd.

I immediately recognized him.

He was the same Pseudo-Mage whom Rustil had injured earlier.

He still seemed irritated.

Not with me, obviously.

With Rustil.

His eyes occasionally turned toward the Deadly Dagger, but he never kept looking for long.

The second was Lyra, heir to the Valtheris Clan, from the lands of Eldraven.

She had a rather simple appearance.

She wore only an unadorned robe, without jewelry or any piece that attempted to display her noble origins. At her waist, she carried a magic wand, and on the other side, there was a book that emitted a very strange mana glow.

Her hair was long and dark, naturally falling over her shoulders.

At first glance, she seemed like nothing more than an ordinary young acolyte.

But there was something about her posture.

She moved in a controlled manner.

Her eyes were always attentive.

She was the type of person who probably observed more than she spoke.

The third Pseudo-Mage was Darian, a member of the Arcane Academy of Valdren, from the lands of Eryndor.

Besides them, there were six established Level 3 acolytes.

Selene.

Adrian.

Kael.

Elara.

Isaac.

And Rowan.

Four men and two women.

They all came from different regions, different families, and different towers.

Their training methods were also completely different.

It was quite a heterogeneous group.

And then there was me.

No one seemed particularly interested in talking to me.

It was as if I simply didn’t exist.

It wasn’t difficult to understand why.

A team of ten people should possess the greatest possible strength.

And I was, by far, the weakest member in their eyes.

To them, my presence simply diminished the team’s overall strength.

I had no way to explain why I was there.

So I did what seemed smartest.

I kept my mouth shut.

I sat in a corner and began to listen.

All ten apprentices had arrived aboard three different flying ships.

The first ones had arrived two days earlier.

During that time, they had enough time to learn a little about the Kar-Dur Magic Tower and, most importantly, study the details of the region where the mission would take place.

Suddenly, the door opened again.

A man entered.

He appeared to be around forty years old.

He wore a dark robe made of heavy fabric, fastened by a leather belt around his waist.

A wide hood concealed part of his face.

His presence immediately caused the room to fall silent.

....

1305 Words