Magician in Type-Moon

Page 398

Sticking to the original plan is something only a fool would do. The battlefield is ever-changing, and assessing the situation is an essential condition for becoming a winner.

Ptolemy's figure flashed, and an array of runes resembling a star map appeared around him, the runes shimmering with golden light.

The book in his hand suddenly closed, and a semi-transparent mirror appeared in the air, like some kind of observation and measurement device.

The light of the spirit pierced into the black miasma even faster than that of Tsbia.

Meanwhile, the crimson shadow that Tsbia had transformed into rushed toward Ptolemy, who was engrossed in his analytical work.

No matter how fast it is, it is an undefendable and perfect surprise attack.

The next moment, a solid sound rang out.

A sturdy shield blocked the entire sneak attack.

Ptolemy had somehow transformed from a pharaoh into a young, strong warrior.

Not only its appearance, but even the form of its spirit origin has changed.

Ptolemy had two periods of great potential where he could become a follower.

One period was the era when they conquered the world together with Iskandar.

One period is the era when he ruled Egypt as a pharaoh.

The ability to freely change one's spirit origin is truly astonishing.

only...

The blood shadow that transformed into Tsbia negated this defense.

"That's still not enough."

The murderous intent that arose from the opposite direction struck Ptolemy once more.

"Um--!"

Although Ptolemy immediately parried with his shield, he was unable to withstand the overwhelming force.

Something has been pierced.

A solemn yet calm voice echoed through the surrounding space, which remained shrouded in black miasma.

"...Why?"

Ptolemy looked at Tsbia without pulling out the blood-red poisoned blade that had solidified at Tsbia's wrist and remained in his side.

Although he didn't understand how Tsbia had penetrated his defenses, he was now even more puzzled as to why Tsbia had done it.

"You should know that only I can separate the divine body now, so why are you being so unwise?"

Ptolemy considered Tsbia's current actions to be unwise, and that the fight between the two should be reserved for after Elgo and the Black Miasma were completely separated.

As the former dean of the Atlas Institute, Tsbia, who also possessed the Atlas Institute's way of thinking, should not be unable to understand this principle.

But Tsbia, with a smile on his lips, did not answer Ptolemy. Instead, he glanced at the blood moon projection on the other side, whose phase had begun to shift towards darkness.

Ptolemy followed his gaze and instantly understood.

Indeed, he himself overlooked this piece of information.

That was something a magician named Matou Ike did.

Because of his brief absence, it was overlooked.

Since that factor exists.

That means the other party has run out of time to wait.

so...

The young Ptolemy exclaimed, he couldn't remember the last time he had uttered such childish words.

The last time was when I was following that kid Iskandar, right?

"Raise high the light of my heart! O blazing light, open the path ahead for me!"

The Noble Phantasm is named—"The Light Unknown to the Moon, A Timeless Light".

At the same time, dozens of kilometers away, the Lighthouse of Alexandria, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, once again shone with a light that had only been seen 2300 years ago.

The mirror he obtained during his conquest of Iskandar in his youth contained the energy of 2300 years, which is now erupting.

It was as if the judgment of an ancient god was being proclaimed, and only that voice echoed.

The surging magic now seemed like solid wind, striking the bodies of everyone around them heavily.

Even the alchemist Quart and the monarch's assistant Tica, upon being exposed to this gust of wind, had their magical circuits groan and collapse to their knees.

Nevertheless, this was merely the brilliance manipulated by Ptolemy.

Outside the range of the Pharaoh's intended target, it causes almost no harm and is extremely well controlled.

There is only one target.

But under such a devastating offensive...

Tsbia simply stood there.

He wore a helpless expression and seemed to be thinking about how to escape from this devastating blow.

After all, at this moment, the entire computing power of the Alexandria Library is no longer under the control of outsiders.

In just a moment, crimson sand feathers began to float up from behind him.

Immediately afterwards, the red sand increased in such large quantities that it almost engulfed most of the crystal.

"Damn it, you actually stole this kind of thing!"

Shion was stunned for a moment when she saw this scene, and then roared out.

"How is this going?"

"Logos React, one of the seven weapons of the Atlas Academy! The ultimate memory medium capable of recording almost infinite information, the Supreme Book!"

The Law of Reason itself is composed of a specific state of the Philosopher's Stone... As long as it continues to be recorded, it can likely multiply indefinitely...!

If we are exposed to it for a long time, even we could be broken down into a database of information.

When Tika, who had somehow sneaked up from the ground, asked her a question, Shion answered slowly and deliberately.

"Is this what they mean by 'they should save humanity but are capable of destroying the world'?"

Meastia, who had also gathered there without anyone noticing, exclaimed in surprise upon hearing Shion's explanation.

at the same time.

Red sand. Red desert.

The crimson world spread out endlessly.

"bring it on!"

The confrontation between light and sand.

That was already a bombing.

The immense magic contained within each feather caused an explosion more violent than any gunpowder upon contact with that desolate light.

The land submerged by red sand instantly became a pitted and uneven landscape, riddled with depressions, and the protruding crystal forest was completely destroyed.

Only Elgo, protected by the Grand Library of Alexandria, remained unaffected.

Chapter 437 Taste

Matou Ike had just stepped into the fourth level when the scene before him made him pause briefly.

ruins.

A ruin more chaotic than a deep-sea furnace.

The once neat and magnificent site has now been eroded beyond recognition by the red sand and dazzling light. The earth looks as if it has been crushed by the hands of countless giants, and is covered with indistinguishable scorched cracks and collapsed pits.

The crystal jungle was completely destroyed, and fragments were scattered in the air like raindrops shimmering with light, falling continuously.

Matou Ike quietly surveyed everything before him. The aura of ashes and the surge of shattered magic rushed towards him, even causing him to stagger slightly.

Through the communication channel with Medea, Matouike quickly learned about everything that had happened here.

They also learned that, apart from Ptolemy and Tsbia, others had temporarily avoided the disaster by using the spacetime bubble created by Meastia before the devastating blow spread.

In that depression, which had been bombarded to the point of near-flatness, the two figures remained silently facing each other.

From an outsider's perspective, it looks more like a stalemate that has been barely maintained after both sides have suffered heavy losses.

Ptolemy's spiritual core had long since ruptured, and the radiance of spiritual particles continuously emanated from his heart, like a dying star gradually extinguishing.

His face was calm, but it couldn't hide the deep sense of weakness; each weak breath seemed to be robbing him of the last remnants of his life.

Tsbia's appearance was almost flawless, with neat robes and an elegant demeanor, making him look as if he had just stepped onto the battlefield rather than having experienced a conflict that brought him to the brink of extinction.

But the blood moon projection that had always hovered behind her had long since entered the "obscure" stage; its light was no longer dazzling, but rather carried an almost deathly cold and dim quality.

There are no winners and no losers.

Unable to move, Ptolemy simply stared intently at the Elgo, which hung high in the sky, with countless array symbols swirling around it.

“I have done you a great favor.” Ptolemy did not turn his head, but sensed the approach of Matou Pond through his spiritual senses.

Matouchi stopped and stood on a patch of scorched earth that had not yet completely cooled.

"A big favor?" Matou Ike said calmly. "If you're referring to this battle that nearly destroyed the entire social class, then I should thank you for making things even more complicated."

“You should know that the Great Library of Alexandria has a self-repair mechanism,” Ptolemy chuckled, his tone tinged with confidence.

"Repair? It's already like this, how can it be repaired?" Matou Ike glanced around, a hint of undisguised surprise in his eyes.

The ruins before us have lost all their former splendor; all that remains is devastation, a desolate wasteland.

Even "riddled with holes" is not enough to describe the devastation of this place.

“Of course.” Ptolemy nodded. “However, conventional methods are clearly insufficient to deal with the current situation. But as long as I maintain my Noble Phantasm, ‘The Library of the King,’ and utilize the crystal medium within the library, everything can be restored to normal.”

“But you’re going to die. Your spirit core is already shattered. I can’t save you,” Matou Ike said calmly. “Without you, who can maintain that Noble Phantasm?”

"I am well aware of my own situation."