Magecraft, as an art, is complete. It is nothing but a science, after all, equations and data arranged according to certain scientific principles. There was nothing more to innovate. 1 + 1 = 2, and nothing will change that.
That was, however, until Adra of the Fourth Seat revolutionized magecraft as the world knew it. For the first time in nearly 500 years, a new form of magecraft had been created: Wittenberg-Style Talisman Magecraft .
So what? One may ask, Who cares about talismans? Weren’t there numerous other talisman-based disciplines with similar applications?
To that, one would be correct. Talismans, by nature, weren’t incredibly rare or powerful. Easterners had perfected those techniques centuries ago. However, Adra’s unique style of magecraft had a certain advantage over all other disciplines: accessibility.
“Activate— [Vector] .”
The Vector talisman burned up, surging through Atreides’ body with an overwhelming magical energy, akin to a lightning bolt. He tore through the air itself, igniting a trail of flames along the beaten path.
Wittenberg-Style Talismans could not only replicate countless forms of magic through the use of formulas, but could also be used by anyone, regardless of discipline or magical ability. In addition, their mathematical foundation enabled mass production on a scale similar to that of the Industrial Revolution. No, that comparison is too small in scope to truly capture the essence of Adra’s brilliance. It was akin to a Theory of Unification, combining all mathematical and scientific principles into a single framework.
An absolute increase in efficiency without the notable drawback of accessibility — it was this advantage that Atreides would exploit to attain victory.
“Gh-!”
Such energy was far beyond the limits of the student mages’ abilities, allowing Atreides to break free from their grasp and execute his escape plan.
“Ah, what a relief. My shoulders were getting tight,” Atreides said jovially. He blitzed through the bodies of countless mages, piercing through bone and slicing at flesh. His goal was not to win the fight, of course. He was by no means talented enough to do such a thing. All he needed to do was reach Madam Crowler’s location and destroy the magic circles protecting the planet.
Assuming my math is correct here, there are only a few thousand students residing in the area, each of whom holds their own discipline of magecraft. 30% are frontline fighters, while the remaining percentage are ranged spellcasters. I can deal with the brawlers just fine, but those spellcasters will be…quite the issue.
The battle was a logistical nightmare. Under ordinary circumstances, this would be a hopeless endeavor. However, there was still a single trick up his sleeve that could decisively end the conflict.
Placidity.
A spell capable of returning the motion of any liquid to zero. There were countless applications of such an ability, such as freezing one’s blood to create heart attacks or seizures on command, or freezing water to walk where no man should. This technique is also applied to the magic circuits themselves.
If I can just make it to that institute, then Placidity can temporarily cancel out the world barrier’s magic circuits.
His plan, in theory, should have been a simple endeavor, yet something felt…off.
Wasn’t this all too easy?
Atreides was certainly fast, far faster than most of the Shura mages here, but he shouldn’t have been able to escape that easily. At the corner of his eye was a blur, or perhaps what remained of a shadow. It appeared just as quickly as it vanished, repositioning itself at a moment’s notice.
“An assassin? I didn’t expect anyone to match my speed.”
Ridding himself of the assassin was his top priority. Should he have leaped into the air to avoid ground combat? No, it was the wrong move. He could not fly or control his movements mid-air, so aerial combat was almost completely disadvantageous to him. Any sniper worth their salt would predict his trajectory and take the shot.
Perhaps the sewers would fare better? Close, but no. He needed to create distance between the mages, not box himself in. The overwhelming numerical advantage would result in a swift defeat.
The ground was his only option, and thus, he would use it to its fullest extent. Atreides used the sprawling labyrinth of the urban jungle to his advantage, sliding off sloped rooftops, soaring through the dense streets with wires as a makeshift rope, all while ducking in and out of industrial buildings, all in an attempt to confuse his pursuer.
“Hah…hah…” Vector had nearly worn off, and his attempts to rid himself of the assassin had hardly gone well.
Time was running out, and his stamina would only last so long.
I am…truly out of options here?
Laborious step after laborious step. His legs suffered with a great ache, his chest riddled with stabbing chills.
“...?!”
In a crucial moment of weakness, the Vector talisman ran out, and with it, disaster struck.
“Kh—!”
With the swiftness of a terrible gale, the speedster tore off Atreides’ left arm. The sudden shock disrupted his senses, sending the sailor flying into a nearby building.
Two missing fingers, a missing arm, several broken ribs, and no remaining olive oil for ritual summons.
“Hehe…it seems like I’m on the back foot. You really can’t trust me with these types of missions.”
Even when broken beyond all repair, Atreides could not help but laugh at the absurdity of his situation. He would have thought that he, a no-named loser with zero talent for battle, would end up fighting against an entire district of competent mages?
“Humans fighting shura…shura fighting humans…what a ridiculous comedy.”
He found no meaning in his life as a human, nor did he find meaning in their struggle against their destined enemy, the shura. It was all nonsense, a farce that would oscillate between the highs of victory and the humiliation of defeat.
So why? Why did this man, this worthless, hollow man, fight?
“Water flows as flowers bloom. Stone yields to crashing waves, as life, its vicissitudes.”
Here he sat before the ire of dozens of shura mages, ready to take his moment in an instant. Should he have felt terror at the prospect of a gruesome death? Or perhaps joy at seeing it all come to an end? The man known as Atreides found neither terror nor relief. Only the same distant resignation that had accompanied him for years.
That was, until a certain monster emerged from the edge of his vision.
“UUUUURAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
He could recognize that battle cry from anywhere. It had a tenacity that surpassed any other, a vigor that consumed all else in its wake, reducing the living world to ash.
“You’re late, Keresaspa.”
“Haha! My apologies, comrade! There was quite a complicated barrier around this district, so it took a few hits to break it.”
“Liar. You definitely got distracted from all your fun and nearly forgot to help me in time.”
“Can’t it be both?”
“Well, I suppose that is also an option.”
Atreides got up, yawned, and stretched with the nonchalance of a man on a morning lark. “Now then, let's reassess the situation. You’ll clear out a path for me, and I’ll intercept one of the leylines for the world barrier, deal?”
Ignoring the man’s analysis, Keresaspa inquired, “You don’t seem very bothered by your injuries, but are you sure you can stand?”
“It’ll be fine. After all, my magecraft is sacrifice . Reversals are my specialty, even if it comes with some risks.”
“Hm…?” Keresaspa’s expression soured. “It sounds like you had that entire situation under control to begin with. Were you playing a practical joke on me with that pitiful display?”
Atreides chortled, “Well, it's not like I was entirely okay. Even with my little gambit, I only had a 10, no, a 5% chance of succeeding.”
“To throw away your life for something that trivial…are you sure you don’t have a death wish?”
“Isn’t that what you want, little miss warrior princess?”
“Do not compare the path of a great warrior to a meager suicide quest. I am nothing like you.”
Atreides shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter. An actor needs to play up the drama for the audience, or else it would be quite a boring show.”
“Even now, I can’t bring myself to like you, even if you are my comrade…”
“Yes, I am quite unpopular, but please bear with it. We have to complete our mission first.”
“Yeah.” Keresaspa brought her fists together, creating a great rumble that permeated the air itself. “Let us continue our battle!”