Among the four, the silver-haired young man struck first, and Charles could clearly sense the powerful magic he released.
A dark, hexagonal, transparent construct appeared above the arena, then proliferated wildly, forming a hemispherical honeycomb that covered the entire stadium.
Most of the light was blocked by that barrier, and the arena dimd in an instant.
Then the man raised the weapon in his hand, and pillars of light rose all over the arena.
Charles could feel his magic being siphoned away—fortunately the rate wasn't fast, so it didn't affect him much.
But for those on the field whose magic wasn't as strong, it was much worse, pushing the crowd's panic to a new pitch.
Next to move was the woman in the military uniform. A chessboard appeared before her, and the pieces began to fall.
As they fell, the pieces grew larger, and in a blink they were over twice a person's height, slamming into different parts of the arena.
The stadium looked like it had been shelled by heavy artillery, left pitted and cratered.
But the woman's magic still hadn't shown its true fangs. Once the giant chessn landed, they began to transform, turning into steel soldiers in an instant.
The mont they ford, these steel troops launched indiscriminate attacks on everyone in the arena.
What she wielded, plainly, was Legion Magic—enough for one to field an army alone.
Charles watched the now unmasked Asta cleave one steel soldier after another, but his face stayed grave.
That's the strength of Legion Magic—unless you take out the caster, cutting down more magic soldiers is pointless.
Stella stepped forward. "Leave this one to ! It's rare to see a woman this strong with magic—I've been itching to stretch a bit. Charles, go find their leader!"
Charles gave Stella a long look. "Then I'll trouble you. Sorry—this is supposed to be a date, and I've dragged you into this ss again."
Stella smiled, unfurling fire-dragon wings and flying toward the uniford woman overhead.
The woman had been watching from on high as her soldiers ravaged the arena, when she suddenly sensed a powerful magic closing in.
"Oh? So the Magic Knights still have soone like you."
Interest flickered across her face, and she t Stella's descending Feilong Sinblade with a bare palm.
If Charles didn't trust that Stella wasn't paying close attention to this side of the fight, he would have been shocked at the woman's magic.
What the woman used was clearly an advanced application of magical domains—weakening the opponent while strengthening herself—letting her catch Stella's blade bare-handed.
But she had still underestimated Stella; she caught the edge, only to be blasted back by the flas that followed.
She brushed the sparks from her cloak with a casual pat, then grinned wildly.
The silver-haired youth spoke. "Princia, need a hand?"
"Mind your own business," the woman snapped. "This is my fight."
He shrugged, as if to say he'd spoken out of turn.
Princia rolled her wrist and shot straight at Stella.
As for Charles, he naturally made for the man in the lead.
A few stubborn locks stood up at the man's brow, framing a stern face. Beneath the splendid Wizard King's mantle, his body was festooned with keys.
What drew Charles's eye most was the short sword in his hand, its crystalline blade distinctive.
Charles knew that sword—there were records of it in the Black Bulls' library.
The Imperial Sword Elsdocia, a powerful magic device forged by the first Wizard King.
Its function was similar to Escanor's Divine Axe Rhitta—storage and release. Only the Imperial Sword was stronger; it could store not just magic power, but magic itself.
True to its na, it had always been the Wizard King's blade, storing the magic and wisdom of successive Wizard Kings—the Clover Kingdom's unquestioned national treasure.
When Charles first read about it, he'd asked Captain Yami about the sword.
He still rembered Yami's complicated expression as he drew on a cigarette and told him the sword had been sealed ten years ago.
For a nation's treasure to be sealed, it didn't take a genius to guess sothing major had happened.
The first Wizard King really was a monster—imnse magic and spellcraft, and a cheat-like talent for research.
Yet the superlative devices he made rarely saw righteous use.
The royals used his devices to massacre the elves and plunder their magic. Patry used the magic stones he left to unleash a forbidden spell.
Now that this sealed Imperial Sword had resurfaced, it was very likely soone was using it as a key prop to cause trouble.
The man didn't move, rely stood there speaking to soone.
Charles looked—and realized it was Julius, the Wizard King who had lost most of his magic after the elf incident!
Charles clicked his tongue inwardly. The man had no killing intent about him. If Julius were killed here, a lot of trouble down the line might be spared.
Julius was half-kneeling. Having lost most of his magic, he couldn't withstand the siphoning and had no strength left to resist.
Worse, the opponent was precisely that person. Ten years ago, it had taken the combined strength of many squad captains to seal him.
Though Julius had resurrected during the elf incident with the help of a magic tool, it had cracked the seal—and now the most terrifying enemy had slipped free.
As Julius weighed his options, a figure appeared in front of him.
"Charles—you're back!"
"Just my luck," Charles replied. "I step back in and run into this. Wizard King—an old acquaintance?"
"Don't you dare underestimate him," Julius said with a breath of relief. "He's Conrad Leto, a forr Wizard King—the strongest of the Magic Knights!"
Seeing their robes, Charles had been prepared and wasn't surprised.
He turned back, voice flat. "So a forr Wizard King found retirent dissatisfying?"
Conrad glanced at Charles's face—it was clear he recognized him. "You again. Didn't I tell you I would change this country?
"I can feel it—you despise this nation's darkness too. Why stand in my way?"
Charles hadn't expected the man to catch that flicker of emotion outside the arena—worthy of a Wizard King, perhaps.
But Charles didn't budge. "You said you'd make this a country where everyone respects each other and can laugh together, right?
"Take a look around. I don't see anyone smiling because of you."
There was no laughter now in the arena—only the sounds of despair and pain.
Charles had never heard of any beautiful world built by inflicting suffering on others.
He pulled a half-shoulder short cape from his ring and draped it over his shoulder.
"Besides, I'm a Magic Knight. I've got no reason to let you run wild. Wizard King or not, it's all the sa to ."
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