Invincible
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#182
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 15:15:42 +0000 UTCBlack Sun (2)
The students sprawled across the training grounds began to be dragged away like lifeless baggage.
With so few still in decent shape, it was a time-consuming task.
“Whew, we’ve managed to gather all the knights in one spot, but…”
The professor, who had gathered the students in the center of the training grounds, wore an expression tinged with pity.
“It’s tough, but the mages have to get up right now. You heard what Hersel said, didn’t you? He seems to have a plan. If we want to survive, we all need to put in some effort.”
“...Cough. Isn’t this a bit cruel to those who are actually sick?”
The professor let out a shallow sigh.
“Honestly, if we abandoned you and fled, that would be the end of it for us. But we stayed, trying to save you. At least take that into account and muster some strength.”
Pale-faced and sweating, the mages struggled to their feet, wobbling unsteadily.
“So, what exactly do we need to do?”
A student, swaying as if dizzy, asked hesitantly. The professor scratched his head.
“Well… I don’t know yet either…”
He glanced up at the office where Hersel was likely stationed.
In the meantime, someone else spoke up.
“They don’t look so good.”
“No kidding. We need to act quickly.”
It was the professors who had gone to create the antidote.
Behind them was a group of professors and students carrying an assortment of equipment.
“What’s all that for?”
“Well, we need to make the antidote, don’t we? We couldn’t haul the whole building, so we grabbed whatever seemed useful.”
“So, the antidote isn’t ready yet?”
“It’s not something that’s made in an instant…”
One professor replied while glancing back.
“Still, that guy managed to whip up a single dose. Apparently, he used some unheard-of method.”
“...Impressive. So, who gets that dose?”
“Of course, the head of health care. The principal’s condition is critical. If we don’t operate soon, it’ll be disastrous.”
As the professor gestured toward Arkandric, who was being carried on a stretcher, Bellman administered an injection to the healthcare professor.
Recovery would normally take days, but waiting that long would mean Arkandric wouldn’t survive. Bellman let out a sigh.
‘It looks like I’ll have to perform the operation myself.’
Fortunately, according to the text, the antidote should restore consciousness within two hours. It was far better to have someone guide the procedure than to rely solely on a book for something he had never done before.
“By the way, has anyone heard what exactly we’re supposed to do?”
To the professor’s question, another professor who had just emerged from the fortress shook his head.
“No, we were holed up in the lab the whole time. Didn’t even see the guy’s face.”
Bellman looked up at Hersel’s office.
‘Why did he call for only the mages? What’s he planning?’
His musings were interrupted as Hersel’s voice echoed through a loudspeaker.
“Once preparations are complete, I’ll signal you. Everyone who knows how to use magic, deploy barrier spells without exception. If you don’t know how, use anything. If you have magic that can block an attack, don’t hold back—give it your all.”
Bellman began to piece things together.
‘Telling us to prepare defenses must mean there’s no way to neutralize the explosion itself. Which means…?’
A realization struck him, and his eyes widened.
“There must be a way to mitigate its power.”
The energy radiating from the Black Sun was far beyond what a barrier could contain.
Even so, if they were talking about survival, the odds seemed plausible.
Bellman took out his staff and hurriedly began drawing a spell formation.
The professor approached with a puzzled look.
“You’re starting already, even without the signal?”
“No, this is just something I want to test.”
As if conducting a simple experiment, Bellman’s barrier was small.
‘Form-shaping magic is the most effective addition to barrier spells.’
With his vision just recently awakened, this might work. Bellman rifled through his mind, pulling out ideas from beyond the academy’s knowledge, including the materials from the Mage Tower.
‘This is it!’
He added more spell formations, enhancing the previously simple barrier into something more intricate.
‘The barriers I’ve used so far were just flat panes or spheres. They were single-layered at best. But now that I’ve grasped form-shaping…?’
The barrier began to take on a honeycomb structure, filled with hexagonal openings. This design, inspired by the shock-absorbing nature of honeycombs, was ideal.
Looking at his newly created barrier, Bellman clenched his fist.
“It’s done.”
While they rejoiced, a shadow fell.
Bellman looked up.
Dorosian was smiling slyly as she suspended a glowing staff with telekinetic magic, then drove it into the barrier.
The barrier cracked with a harsh snap, and Bellman's eyes widened in shock.
"W-what are you doing?"
Her lips curled into a faint, somewhat satisfied smile, as though she had just vented her frustration.
"Just blowing off some steam. And it looked different from an ordinary barrier, so I decided to break it."
Bellman blinked at the word 'different.' Someone from the Grice family would have seen barriers enhanced with form-shaping magic many times.
If she thought this one was 'different,' it meant she had recognized the unique nature of Bellman's magic.
‘Did she figure it out at a glance? My innate trait that uniquely strengthens barrier magic...?'
Dorosian picked up a fragment of the shattered barrier, inspecting it carefully.
From her hand emerged a barrier identical to the one Bellman had created.
Clink!
When she collided the fragments using telekinesis, hers was the one that shattered.
"I made it with the same amount of mana, but the density is different. Sometimes, people like you show up—those who are exceptional in a specific area of magic, even if it’s the same spell."
Bellman swallowed hard, his mind racing.
Dorosian was a woman who possessed an extraordinary amount of mana and unparalleled destructive power.
Her abilities alone could be of immense help.
‘If only I could convince her to help... Should I try persuading her?’
But Dorosian seemed to notice his expression and narrowed her eyes.
"You’ve got that look—like you’re about to ask for my help."
"…Can you read minds or something?"
"I don’t need to. I’ve dealt with all sorts of people, and it’s written all over your face."
Her response gave Bellman a clue.
‘Most likely, scholars from the Mage Tower were the ones pestering her.’
Obsessed with magical discoveries, those scholars would have disregarded any rumors about her being dangerous and sought her out relentlessly, likely begging for assistance in their research.
They would have promised massive rewards, only to be flatly rejected.
‘I’ve never heard of Dorosian cooperating with anyone. If even the Mage Tower failed, then it’s hopeless.’
Bellman was about to give up when she suddenly spoke.
"You’ll handle the core. I’ll infuse my mana to reinforce and expand the barrier."
Bellman’s eyes widened in astonishment.
"What?"
"Are you deaf as well as clueless? Or just slow to understand? I said I’ll channel my mana into your barrier spell formation."
He nearly blurted out, 'Why?', but stopped himself. Dorosian’s gaze was fixed on the upper levels of the fortress.
For a moment, he was puzzled, but then he remembered something.
‘Come to think of it, she split the sea for Hersel during the whale fight.’
Her motivation back then had likely been Hersel—and it seemed the same applied now.
Bellman looked up and spotted Hersel, standing by an open window. Through the loudspeaker, Hersel issued his instructions.
"Aslay and Limberton will complete their tasks and descend. Rockefeller will catch them with telekinesis or something similar."
***
As the time drew near, I slipped a ring onto my finger. It was a gray ring I had obtained from Felia’s subspace.
『Ring of Dark Energy』
[Allows external dark energy to be used as a source of power. Enables resonance between external and internal dark energy.]
For me, the ring’s greatest utility lay in its synergy with self-destruct magic.
If I activated self-destruction in a place saturated with dark energy while wearing the ring, it would be like igniting a spark in a powder keg.
Given the scale of the disaster that was about to unfold, adding my 'tiny' explosion would hardly make a difference.
Looking down, I called out.
"Is the weight manageable?"
Aslay, who was using one hand as a platform, lifted and lowered his arm as if exercising with a dumbbell. Each movement made me wobble slightly.
"Hmm. I think you can add a bit more."
At his response, I waved my staff to recast the weight-lightening spell.
"How about now?"
I was adjusting my weight to ensure it was optimal for Aslay to throw me as far as possible, effectively making myself a shot put ball.
From the window, Limberton, who was readying his bow, called out with a hint of concern.
"The wind is pretty unpredictable—especially closer to that black sphere. The air currents are so strong, it’s like a typhoon."
"That’ll have to be handled with telekinesis."
"Focus on the angle. The weight is now 7.3 kilograms. Attach that much to the arrow and fire again."
Limberton loaded his arrow with additional weights, making it noticeably more challenging to shoot. However, given his recent explosive growth in skill, he should be able to handle it.
Ping!
Limberton’s arrow, fired with a high arc, sailed through the air and landed near the Black Sun.
Of course, the difference in air resistance between a human body and an arrow was stark, but there was no time to factor in such calculations.
“Hersel, it looks like the sphere is descending.”
In the heat of battle, the only option was to assess and react on the spot.
“...I know. Limberton, Aslay, get ready.”
The window was narrow, hardly ideal for Aslay to get a running start to throw. Aslay smashed the wall of Rockefeller’s office with brute force, creating more space, and backed up as far as possible.
As I crouched down on his palm to stabilize myself, Aslay asked,
“Boss, can I ask something?”
“What is it?”
“Are you really sure about this?”
I hesitated for a moment. From the window, Limberton, gesturing with his arrow, chimed in.
“Yeah, we all know you’re no stranger to doing outrageous things. And you’ve succeeded so far. But this? This is going too far.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure either.
What kind of human air-defense system was this? To intercept a bomb that could annihilate the area using just my body?
Even I had to admit—it was madness.
Even if I somehow survived the initial explosion with ‘one second of invulnerability,’ there was no guarantee I could handle what came after.
If the searing heat of the blast didn’t dissipate instantly, I’d melt to death. Or, worse, I could be thrown off course, plummeting back to the ground before my cooldown ended.
But then again, when had my life ever been rational?
Every situation I’d faced up until now had been absurd.
And yet, despite everything...
“In truth, I’ve never had certainty. Not once. I’ve never had choices either.”
I had simply acted, time and time again.
“And I can’t just sit here doing nothing, can I?”
Aslay clenched his jaw and sprinted toward the window at full speed. At the same time, Limberton loosed an arrow weighted with a ballast.
Following the arrow, my body soared into the air.
***
Dorosian watched the gathering in the middle of the training grounds.
Many of them, weak from illness, staggered as if they could barely stand.
To her, their lives didn’t matter.
The only reason she had chosen to help was because of a calm realization she had while temporarily paralyzed.
‘If he’s risking his life to save them, there must be a reason.’
In Dorosian’s mind, Hersel had already solidified his identity as someone who knew the future.
Not just one, but multiple possible futures. And he was risking everything for these people.
‘Perhaps they’re essential to avoiding destruction.’
If they died, his plans would be ruined. That must be why he was so determined to save them, even at the cost of his own life.
A woman who rarely showed compassion, Dorosian had come to this conclusion through pure calculation.
Meanwhile, Bellman began drawing a barrier spell formation.
The appointed time, as Hersel had mentioned, seemed to have arrived.
Others joined in, contributing their own defensive measures, but to Dorosian, they all seemed inadequate.
‘In their condition, isn’t this almost pointless?’
Dorosian aimed her staff at Bellman’s formation. Infusing mana into someone else’s spell formation was a notoriously tricky process—it required adjustments for the caster’s unique habits, including density, amount, and arrangement.
“Phew.”
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Dorosian watched as the barrier thickened and expanded to envelop the entire area.
The others glanced at her in surprise, their faces showing a mix of awe and relief.
“So, what exactly is Hersel planning?” she asked.
Bellman shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Dorosian was exasperated.
“You’re following him without knowing? All of you?”
In any other scenario, such a situation would have descended into chaos. Everyone would be shouting their own ideas, acting independently, and the group would fall apart.
But here, with no concrete explanation, everyone had united around Hersel’s vague promise of a solution.
It was incomprehensible.
“You joined later, so you wouldn’t know,” Bellman explained. “If you’d been here during the first semester, you’d have seen it too. He always comes up with methods that defy logic—and they always work.”
At that moment, a sound of crumbling stone came from above.
Nearby, Rockefeller clenched his teeth and growled.
“Those bastards—my office!”
His office wall had been destroyed, and Dorosian’s eyes widened as she spotted something.
“Wait, what?”
A figure was soaring through the air alongside the arrow, heading straight for the Black Sun. Bellman’s voice quivered.
“Don’t tell me… that’s how he plans to reduce the impact...”
Dorosian didn’t need him to finish the thought to understand.
The explosion wouldn’t happen on the ground—it would be detonated mid-air.
And Hersel planned to do it himself, up close, using the most reckless method possible.
“That idiot!”
Dorosian’s shout was lost as the world was consumed by blinding white light.
Boom.
When the deafening roar subsided, Dorosian opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was a mix of steam and dust. She couldn’t see what was happening outside.
The barrier began to crack and crumble, falling away in pieces.
Rattle... crash.
In a daze, Dorosian walked toward the cloud of debris. Realizing she had stepped into the dust, she waved her staff, clearing the air.
Dorosian felt the fine hairs on her skin stand on end.
The faint residue of mana stung her nose.
Even though the explosion had pushed all energy outward, leaving only a faint trace, its presence was strikingly vivid.
As she walked toward the source, she spotted Hersel, wearing a set of clothes he must have scavenged from somewhere.
Buttoning his shirt, he spoke casually.
“I intend to survive to the very end. What about you?”
Dorosian found herself momentarily at a loss for words, unsure of what expression to make.
Her mind was a tangle of thoughts.
She had always kept her distance from others, afraid of becoming too attached to anyone. She had never entertained the idea of raising children, knowing they would likely die young. The image of an old version of herself sitting in a rocking chair, knitting, had never crossed her mind—it was too pointless to even imagine.
But now, for the first time, the world seemed to hold a glimmer of continuity.
Even so, Dorosian hesitated to answer. Reflecting on all she had done, she found the idea of making such a choice almost laughable.
But then Hersel’s next words pulled a soft chuckle from her lips.
“If you’re hesitating because you think you’ve messed up your life too much, just think of me. The so-called scoundrel clawing and scraping to survive.”
Suddenly, a warm gust of wind whipped through the air.
Dorosian, gazing at his windswept golden hair, turned her head when she saw his mouth gape open.
“Ah.”
The fortress of Frostheart had completely collapsed.
Standing amidst the ruins, Hersel blinked and remarked with an air of nonchalance,
“Well, that’s ruined.”
