I Became the Childhood Friend of the Northern Duchess – Chapter 230

Yulken was a figure as monumental as a mountain, while Albrecht was as unfathomable as the abyss.

At least that was Edgar’s impression as he stood facing him.

Unlike Yulken, whose size one could somewhat gauge, the man named Albrecht was so deep and dark that one could hardly perceive his true extent.

Tightening his grip on the sword, Edgar felt an increased intensity in his hand.

Was the title of the Empire’s foremost magician just for show?

Despite being a man who had committed numerous heinous acts, his skill was undeniably genuine—Edgar felt it deeply, even without witnessing Albrecht’s magic.

“Defensive for someone who brandishes a sword so boldly. Aren’t you coming at me first?”

As Edgar slowly moved aside to assess the situation, Albrecht provoked him with his words.

“I’m just scouting. You should wait quietly.”

“You’re just a cocky rookie.”

In response to Edgar’s aggressive tone, Albrecht raised one corner of his mouth in a smirk.

Though outwardly dismissive, he was slightly taken aback.

Usually, those who gain great power at a young age tend to become intoxicated by it.

Thus, many charge into the flames like moths, oblivious to the gap in capability between themselves and their opponent.

Yet, the man before him never swung his sword with a foolish heart aiming to gauge the strength of his adversary.

Such complacency could cost one their life in the battlefield.

Even Albrecht, in all his might, had to commend that aspect with a pure heart.

However, this praise was only possible because of his underlying belief in his superiority.

Even though Edgar was the first adversary to push him into a corner, Albrecht had no thoughts of defeat.

The pride of the Empire’s foremost magician was far too great to imagine losing to a rookie who hadn’t even lived half as long.

“If you won’t come, then I’ll go.”

“Do as you please.”

And he had long since discarded any notion of mercy towards his enemy.

With no hesitation, he concentrated his mana, ready to finish it in an instant.

GooOo—

Suddenly, a rumbling sound filled the vast space, as if a typhoon were approaching rather than a magical power.

In a flash, the dark purple mana surrounded him, starkly contrasting with Edgar’s clear blue mana.

It writhed, taking on a bizarre shape that resembled neither beast nor serpent, glaring sharply at Edgar.

‘Ariel wasn’t this terrifying.’

Edgar couldn’t help but smirk at the sheer malevolence of the mana that even Ariel, born of the power of domination, had failed to display.

This was a sight he had never witnessed before in his life, so grotesque it felt as if Albrecht was conjuring a terrifying visage before him.

Writhe.

‘It’s coming.’

As the monstrous mana shrank down, Edgar immediately adopted a defensive stance.

While it appeared merely to shrink back, he understood it was merely a preparatory posture for an impending attack.

“…!”

Albrecht’s initial strike began silently.

If it were a normal serpent, it would have made some rustling sound in the brush, but the shape conjured from mana did not adhere to such physical logic.

The merciless, violet serpent crashed down upon Edgar.

As the heavy mass of mana collided with his body against the ground, a resounding thud echoed.

Albrecht’s mana was heavy and sharp. Despite Edgar surrounding himself with his own mana to absorb the attack, he could still feel the sharpness grazing his skin.

Creeeek…!

As the high-density mana came into contact, a strange sound hit Edgar’s ears, one that seemed a mix of scraping stone with metal yet was somewhat calmer than that.

One thing was clear: the sound alone provoked an instinctive discomfort within him.

Thus, he forcefully released mana simply to stop hearing that unpleasant noise.

If he had to endure it for just three more seconds, his mind might have gone blank.

“Urgeo.”

However, it was too soon to relax after deflecting a single attack.

To prove this, Albrecht’s quiet incantation came with a great load pressing down upon Edgar’s entire body.

It felt as if the gravity that usually pulled him down had intensified.

Moreover, something heavy pressed down from above, making his bones creak and scream in protest.

He had experienced this sort of magic before while training with Ariel, yet the pressure now was even more intense. Of course, one had to consider that Ariel had been holding back.

Kaboom!

Thus, Edgar slammed his sword into the hard floor, gripping the hilt with both hands to withstand the impact.

However, the floor, less durable than his robust frame, began to crack and groan.

‘No mercy, I see.’

Was he intending to raze the castle itself?

Under the unrelenting assault of Albrecht, Edgar sneered and grunted.

“Hmm?”

Albrecht initially thought the firm stance was a temporary measure, but as the force binding Edgar began to wane, he raised an eyebrow.

Soon, the mana that had coalesced around Edgar violently dispersed, recklessly repelling Albrecht’s mana that had bound him.

Kurooom… As the mana scattered, it slammed against the ceiling and walls, sending tremors as if an earthquake had struck.

When Edgar, who had steadied himself with the sword, raised his head with a sly grin, Albrecht concealed his surprise, even as it boiled within him.

‘I was aiming to break at least one of his bones.’

Compared to the first attack he had sampled without using full power, he had applied considerable strength in the previous strike.

The fact that he couldn’t continue his assault while Edgar was immobilized indicated just how much Albrecht had focused on his magic.

Nonetheless, the fact that things ended on this level without any significant damage meant Edgar’s body was remarkably resilient, and his mana exceeded Albrecht’s expectations.

“Sterno.”

If he couldn’t bring him down with gravitational magic, then Albrecht switched tactics, opting for a more lethal spell.

With a low voice, hundreds of dark objects materialized above Edgar’s head.

Like clay molding into shape, they gradually developed into massive spikes.

Just one would surely impale Edgar’s body like a piece of meat on a skewer.

Yet, Edgar confidently gripped his sword.

Swoosh!

As he assumed an offensive posture, Albrecht’s hand motioned downwards.

In response, hundreds of spikes began showering down, not just targeting Edgar, but encompassing a wide area like rain.

He had lived close to 200 years.

His location had limited direct confrontations, but in terms of combat experience, he was unmatched.

Thus, he fully understood how to continue a fight against an exceptional swordsman.

‘One hit is all it takes. No need to rush.’

From a general perspective, magicians were at a disadvantage in close combat compared to swordsmen.

However, that only applied to beginners; in a duel of experts, such generalizations lose their meaning.

No, it could be said that the magician holds the advantage in many respects.

Several factors contributed, but the key advantage lies in the fact that magicians excel at attacking “planes” rather than just “points.”

In battles between skilled fighters, outcomes were usually determined not by a single strike, but by accumulated damage leading to the final resolution.

Thus, even the smallest of attacks mattered, and it was crucial to land even a slight blow.

Albrecht knew well that Edgar would likely not die from just one of those spells.

However, if he concentrated his attacks on just one point, Edgar’s level of skill would certainly allow him to either dodge or block it.

Instead of targeting a single point, expanding his attacks across a wider span to ensure at least one would hit was necessary.

Although Edgar dodged the immense spikes raining down like hail by mere inches, Albrecht showed no signs of anxiety in his eyes.

As long as they didn’t give Edgar the distance to counterattack, they maintained the upper hand.

Even if this attack was ineffective, as long as there was enough gap to launch the next assault, Albrecht saw no reason he could lose.

“!?”

But as he watched Edgar effortlessly dodge his magic, Albrecht’s eyes suddenly widened in shock.

Though there was a cloud of dust rising from the ground, he momentarily lost sight of his new model.

‘Where is he?’ Just as that question crossed his mind, Edgar was already right in front of him.

A move similar to that which Carlos had fallen victim to. Yet, this was Albrecht’s first experience with such a tactic.

‘It’s too late.’

Upon seeing Edgar assume his attack stance, Albrecht realized it was impossible to cast a spell quickly enough to block.

Thus, he hastily gathered mana, wrapping himself in a thin layer like armor, attempting to dodge sideways as much as he could.

Swoosh. Edgar’s mana-infused blade struck his neck, which seemed unlikely to sever it completely.

However, the mana he had wrapped around himself managed to act as a shield to some extent, preventing his head from being fully severed.

Instead, deep gashes opened up, and a fountain of blood erupted, splattering across Edgar’s face.

Not wasting the brief opening, Edgar aimed to quickly follow up, but as fire suddenly burst from the ground due to Albrecht’s gesture, he had no choice but to retreat.

“You, that movement just now… .”

Ignoring the blood spewing from his neck, Albrecht exhaled harshly.

He had almost been literally struck down in one blow.

What was it? Even if it was obscured by dust, there should have been no way he couldn’t have recognized its presence up close.

After all, his gaze had followed Edgar all this time.

An illusion?

Assuming his opponent was some bumbling magician, perhaps, but there was no way such a feeble spell would work against the renowned Albrecht.

He had always relied not merely on sight or sound, but spread mana around him, using it like his eyes, ears, and skin.

Thus, any being not inanimate would inevitably fall within his perception range.

Except, perhaps, for a walking corpse; he was only dealing with a living swordsman.

But how could this happen?

‘No, it doesn’t matter.’

Albrecht shook his head, dispelling those thoughts.

It was all just lucky happenstance. There wouldn’t be a second time.

Moreover, he figured he had inflicted some level of damage, as Edgar was now examining him, sword resting casually on his shoulder.

That lackadaisical posture had no chance of overcoming him.

This wasn’t recklessness, nor arrogance; it was simply a matter of fact.

It wasn’t just a difference in power. More accurately, it was a difference in standing.

Rustle.

“…?”

Albrecht pressed his hand against his blood-spraying neck, causing Edgar to twitch his eyebrows.

Was he planning to use healing magic? He had intended to seize any opening should mana begin to coalesce, regardless.

However, it was clearly not a shallow wound that could be healed with a simple spell requiring no mana to gather.

Yet, as Edgar cautiously observed Albrecht, the latter’s expression slowly grew wider.

Creeeak, creak. A sinister sound crackled around Albrecht’s neck, as cracks began to appear, with tendrils of energy crawling into the visible wound.

To Edgar’s eyes, it looked less like healing a person and more like fixing a machine.

Like distorted gears clicking back into place, striving to realign.

Though, on closer inspection, it could well be described as something entirely different. No fitting term surfaced after many thoughts, for the phenomenon was so alien.

“…You thought this would wound me enough to relax and observe?”

A calm yet unmistakable anger resonated in Albrecht’s voice.

When his hand was removed from hiding the wound, nothing remained to be called a scar.

This was no ordinary healing magic. It was as if time had been reversed.

“Rookie.”

And as he dropped his hand towards the ground, his eyes darkened.

Before Edgar could realize it, his instincts kicked in, and he bolted.

Bang!

With a thundering roar, the ceiling, which seemed to touch the moon, came crashing down.