Genius Warlock

Shrouded within a clinging, viscous crimson blaze, Oliver surged forward directly at the Blood Mage—an adept of the Blood Magic School.

One might argue that fortune favored him on this occasion.

The Blood Mage's mastery of blood magic happened to be at a threshold where Oliver could seize dominion over it. Through his numerous clashes with Derick, Oliver had gleaned the art of manipulating fire magic adeptly, thus enabling him to harness the crimson flames upon his own form.

To put it differently, his prior experiences had furnished him with the tools for swift reactions in the present. Truly, what a fortunate advantage that proved to be.

"This can't be happening…!"

Conversely, caught off guard by this unexpected reaction, the Blood Mage was momentarily startled, promptly conjuring wings of blood to swiftly retreat.

In rapid succession, he summoned a blood-infused orb, small yet brimming with droplets, rupturing it to access a copious reserve of the vital fluid.

[Blood Blade]

With the freshly acquired blood securely in his grasp, the Blood Mage infused it with both mana and will, giving rise to innumerable bat-shaped blades that hurtled forth.

This was a blood magic technique that had once been wielded by Bathory.

If Oliver's recollection served him faithfully, it was an immensely potent maneuver.

The might of these blades transcended mere quantity; their strength was so considerable that they could pierce even the Black Suit, which had been enhanced with artificial souls.

Taking into account the Blood Mage's proficiency falling short of Bathory's, the attack remained an imposing force, particularly within the confines of this narrow space.

Thankfully, one crucial difference marked the present circumstances.

Oliver himself was adept in the use of blood magic.

Whooosh!

Oliver channeled the blood flames enveloping his frame onto the blade he clutched and brought it down forcefully against the ground.

The flames of crimson hue coalesced upon impact, erecting a fiery barricade akin to a drapery along the confined corridor. In an instant, the incoming barrage of blood blades was consumed by the conflagration, reduced to impotence like cloth soaked in oil.

Such an outcome adhered to the inherent attributes of mana.

Much like quelling fire magic with either ice or opposing flames, the principle held true.

Not only was the Blood Mage taken aback, but Yareli and the other wizards observing from behind also found themselves astounded by Oliver's adept counteroffensive.

The fact that a mere faculty member had outmatched a Blood Mage employing such an unconventional technique was indeed surprising.

This unforeseen turn of events had caught everyone off guard.

The formerly self-assured Blood Mage felt a creeping fear welling within, the unsettling possibility of his defeat looming.

Just as with any emotion, this fear rapidly took root within the depths of the Blood Mage's being. It fed off his anxiety and trepidation, swiftly blossoming into a dominance over his rationality and emotions.

The once-confident Blood Mage underwent an immediate shift in demeanor. He directed the levitating blood under his feet to converge, forming a small pool of the crimson fluid.

His intention was to escape.

However, Oliver, having foreseen this, acted with swifter precision.

[Blood Ice Flower]

Oliver guided his mana through his foot, prompting a reaction with the blood. The outcome was the swift generation of blood-red ice flowers, rapidly encasing the Blood Mage from his feet up to his neck.

The pool of blood he had intended for escape had metamorphosed into a snaring trap.

Stunned to silence, the Blood Mage stared in astonishment at Oliver.

This was no surprise, for Oliver had showcased a markedly superior comprehension and aptitude in blood magic compared to the Blood Mage.

Yareli and the other wizards, who had observed from the sidelines, could only gape in amazement.

Amidst it all, Oliver, the central figure, remained poised.

"It seems I have subdued him,"Oliver stated courteously to Yareli.

"You, what are you?"questioned the Blood Mage, ensnared from foot to neck in blood-red ice blossoms, his voice marked by shock.

The reaction was entirely natural.

Blood magic, a heretical yet potent form of mana that melds emotions with mana through blood, had posed a substantial threat despite the Blood Mage's version being less advanced than Bathory's.

Evidence of this lay in the fact that it had triumphed over Yareli's straightforward ice magic.

And yet, it was a mere faculty member who had quelled him through the use of this blood magic.

An implausible, unbelievable twist of fate.

In that very moment, a thought crossed the mind of the Grand Master.

He found himself wondering if Theodore, the Grand Master of the Life School Faction, held undisclosed information.

Although the Grand Master had explicitly commanded for Kevin, his researchers, and staff to be captured alive, a nagging suspicion arose within him. Could it be that Theodore's true objective wasn't Kevin but rather the staff before him?

This doubt soon solidified into conviction, and the Grand Master experienced that distinct unease and apprehension that accompany unexpected deviations.

"You… What are you really?"

A grave Grand Master. Nonetheless, Oliver, now the focus of the Grand Master's attention, responded with a composed tone that starkly contrasted the Grand Master's demeanor.

"I'm Zenon Bright, a personal employee of the professor. As for blood magic…"

Oliver's voice trailed off, his gaze shifting towards Yareli. They both waited for Oliver's explanation.

"Um… I happened to learn it when I was fighting Lady Bathory during the Mountain Pace incident."

A fabrication that even Oliver found inelegant, yet he had no alternative, he assured himself.

Had he not acted swiftly against the Grand Master's blood magic, dire consequences could have unfolded in multiple directions.

‘Professor Kevin will take care of it somehow.'

Oliver's thoughts were grounded in his trust in Kevin, who had granted him a measure of autonomy.

"No way. Don't lie. You learned blood magic by chance? Do you know how much effort I put into mastering it? What's your real identity?!"

"Grand Master, what are you doing right now?"

Yareli interjected as a flustered Grand Master struggled to speak.

Surprisingly, Yareli appeared curious about Oliver as well, yet she chose to defend him.

"Yareli, doesn't that bother you? A person with an unclear identity infiltrating as the professor's personal employee?"

"You're not one to talk, betraying the Tower and setting a trap for the guests you invited to the conference."

Yareli stated a simple truth.

The vigilant wizards' attention swung back to the Grand Master.

In whatever manner it unfolded, it was the Life School Faction that had endangered them, with Oliver emerging as their savior.

Summing up the situation, Yareli turned her focus back to the blood magic school Grand Master.

"Let's go back to the previous conversation. Why did you do this? What's this about the opening of heaven and hell and preparing for it? Why did you do all this?!"

Yareli inquired, her emotions tempered by reason.

She aimed to comprehend and address the situation with a logical approach, though she trembled beneath the weight of betrayal.

Wizards with visages were treated like experimental subjects or mere objects.

Oliver entrusted Yareli with the issue and took a step back to observe.

He harbored his own curiosity regarding the Life School Faction, yet he sensed that this wasn't the opportune moment to intervene.

‘But he's not answering.'

Oliver thought, observing the tightly-held Grand Master who persisted in silence despite being detained.

From the Grand Master's demeanor, it was evident that a mix of bewilderment, anxiety, and fear sealed his lips.

These emotions must have been profoundly potent, preventing him from responding.

After a prolonged standoff, Oliver speculated that a different approach might yield better results.

"Excuse me, Ms. Yareli. May I ask a question as well?"

Yareli, who had pressed for answers without much success, hesitated briefly before assenting.

Her feelings toward Oliver wavered between suspicion and trust.

Despite his own unease, Oliver thanked Yareli for her concession and approached the blood magic school Grand Master.

"Hello? Blood magic school Grand Master… if it's alright with you, may I ask your name?"

"…Why do you need my name?"

"I've been taught that it's polite to ask each other's names before starting a conversation."

Oliver responded genuinely, though the Grand Master could only register astonishment. Discussing etiquette in such dire circumstances appeared absurd.

"…Tell me who you are first, and then I'll tell you."

"I'm Zenon Bright, a personal employee of the Tower Professor. If you don't want to share your name, that's fine… Can you answer my question?"

The Grand Master lapsed into silence once again, a clear refusal. Yet, that wasn't crucial.

Merely from the emotional reaction, Oliver sensed he had gained the information he sought.

Having gleaned these foundational details, he could then employ the persuasive method Arthur had mentioned to extract more comprehensive insights. It was something like pulling teeth.

"Earlier, you mentioned that heaven and hell will open… Does this have something to do with some sort of apocalypse?"

Oliver's unexpected question jolted the Grand Master, both externally and internally.

"What apocalypse are you talking about?"

Sensing an anomaly, Yareli posed the question, and Oliver offered a vague response.

"I don't know the details, as I just heard it in passing. But judging by the Grand Master's reaction, it seems there's something he's concerned about."

As Oliver reiterated his inquiry, the Grand Master flinched. Observing this, Oliver proposed an idea.

"Ms. Yareli… Perhaps we should get the Grand Master out of here first and figure it out later? We've achieved our goal, and there's no need to find out here."

It was a logical proposition, met with a nod of agreement from Yareli. Their immediate goal was to escape this site of danger.

"Zenon, could you look after the Grand Master?"

Oliver consumed the last of the mana potion in his possession and responded, "Certainly, leave it to me."

"I can't allow that."

A third voice intruded on their dialogue.

Both Oliver and Yareli shifted their attention toward the source of the voice, spotting a rift forming behind the blood magic school Grand Master, causing space to twist and distort.

From this fractured space emerged Carl, the Life School Grand Master's grandson.

"Carl?! Thank goodness. Help me!"

The blood magic school Grand Master, relieved at the sight of an ally, appealed for aid. Yet, Carl, seemingly unperturbed, extended his hand, radiating mana. He wrested command over Oliver's ice mana, then clenched his fist, crushing the blood magic school Grand Master's form.

Ironically, the Blood magic school Grand Master, hailing from a sub-school that possessed regenerative capabilities, succumbed to blood expulsion and death.

‘It seems that the regenerative ability unique to Blood magic isn't present in this one,' Oliver contemplated as he surveyed the lifeless figure.

However, a more concerning thought seized his mind: Carl's capabilities.

Anticipating Carl's strength due to his lineage, Oliver found this display far exceeding expectations.

Without reliance on intermediaries or assistance, Carl had warped the atmosphere, generating a portal. Furthermore, he had seized control of Oliver's ice manipulation without fuss.

Oliver felt a twinge of surprise. Divesting control from another was no easy feat using conventional skills.

He checked his tendency to be presumptuous, acknowledging that his past encounter with Carl at Mattel might have underestimated the latter's proficiency.

‘No, I mustn't be arrogant. I might have misjudged, and Mr. Carl might have improved through training.'

Oliver harbored regret for his previously condescending stance.

Yet, an unsettling sensation lingered.

Yareli interjected, her voice cutting through the atmosphere.

"Weren't you here to save your comrade?"

"I've never had a comrade who couldn't handle his own business and blatantly leaked information."

Carl responded confidently, a blend of confidence and arrogance that was not uncommon among Landa's wizards.

Yareli, however, appeared to have a different perspective. She conveyed her discomfort and disdain quite plainly, evidently disapproving of Carl's nonchalant disposition and his disregard for his ally. She seemed unwilling to accept Carl's outlook that treated comrades as expendable.

Meanwhile, Oliver registered this as typical behavior for a user of life school magic.

Yareli resumed speaking.

"So, you came all this way just to silence someone?"

It was a sharp query. After all, Carl was the grandson of the Life school Grand Master, responsible for a research institute—an influential role within the organization.

His direct involvement for the sole purpose of silencing someone struck Yareli as odd.

"I did, but I also have something to check."

The suspicion found confirmation. Carl replied, shifting his gaze toward Oliver—a probing, intense stare.

"You… you said you are Zenon Bright, personal staff of Kevin?"

"Yes."

"But you're actually a warlock, right? Dave, the solver from District T."

Without preamble, Carl bluntly posed the question.

Silence fell upon the scene, all eyes now fixed on Oliver.

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