30 Years after Reincarnation, it turns out to be a Romance Fantasy Novel

Chapter 176

"Turr, you monster in human form! A madman who lives by instinct, ignorant of a human's heart, like a reckless child! I regret it!! That I ever took a creature like you as my disciple...!"

"...Why is this suddenly coming to mind?"

Turr blinked.

Having a poor memory, he tended to quickly erase "useless" memories through magic. Emotions tied to memories, he judged, were unnecessary.

And yet, now—he found himself recalling a memory he was certain he had deleted. A memory from 400 years ago, the day he killed his master and became the Tower Master.

—And the master's dying words, which were more like a curse than a final will.

"Hmm, how strange..."

Turr scratched his cheek. This kind of occurrence was a first for him.

So, naturally—

"I must research this!"

He was delighted at the prospect of a new research subject. He decided to resume his studies on the brain.

As Turr lightly nodded to himself:

Step. Step.

"Is the strategy meeting over now?"

Two of his "toys" approached. The resurfaced memory now shoved aside, Turr greeted the approaching toys with a bright smile, eagerly anticipating what entertainment they might provide this time.

"You’re not going to foolishly rely on swords or spears again, are you? Sorry, but I’m tired of that. Try something different."

He would wait.

Turr spread his arms wide, inviting them to do their best.

His demeanor exuded mockery—not even treating them as enemies. They weren’t even pests in his eyes, merely weak and insignificant mice. For any knight, such words would have been unbearably humiliating, fueling their rage.

"-Oh, really? So, are you swearing you’ll wait until we’re ready?"

"...Huh?"

"Why, getting soft all of a sudden?"

"Ah, no, that’s not it..."

Despite the blatant insult, they remained calm, contrary to his expectations.

Turr was slightly taken aback but quickly recovered.

"Fine, go ahead! Do whatever you want!"

He granted permission with a nonchalant attitude. What could such feeble beings possibly achieve? His arrogance wasn’t unwarranted; he possessed the strength to justify it.

No matter what methods they used, he knew they couldn’t defeat him—the outcome was already decided.

Turr urged them to try anything, sincerely hoping they would amuse him.

"......" "......"

The two knights showed no visible reaction to his taunts.

Yet beneath the surface, their eyes burned with a fiery intensity. A heat that seemed ready to ignite at any moment—a rage so hot it melted the snow-covered plain, transforming the blizzard into a rainstorm.

Their rising body heat betrayed their fury.

"Let’s begin." "Understood."

They began their task.

Thunk!
Crunch!

...Huh?

Turr’s expression froze.

He couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

"Why—why are you fighting each other?"

Watching the two men suddenly exchange blows, Turr was dumbfounded.

The green-haired knight abruptly removed the blade from his spear and stabbed it into the wing joint of the larger knight. Meanwhile, the larger knight struck the center of the green-haired knight’s chest with a fierce blow.

'...Internal discord?'

No, that couldn’t be. That didn’t make sense.

Even the archmage, with over 400 years of experience, was momentarily at a loss.

And then—

Whoosh!

"!"

Turr felt something unfamiliar. No, something he hadn’t experienced since becoming an archmage.

A chill.

*****

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound of a giant drum echoed in Ihan’s ears, like the beating of his own heart. A strange yet intense flow surged through his body, amplifying his senses.

Gritting his teeth, Ihan felt the fierce, almost wild energy transmitted through his shoulder blade. The energy was tearing through him, threatening to shred his insides.

This was Aura.

Whoosh!

But not just any Aura—this was the Aura of a knight whose skill ranked among the best in the kingdom. Even Ihan, who rarely doubted his victory, couldn’t confidently claim he’d win against such a knight.

On top of that, it was Red Aura, a unique and alien force that left Ihan trembling uncontrollably.

He had to endure this insane energy, which seemed poised to destroy his body from within!

Crack!

On the other hand, Raq was enduring his own torment. Ihan’s condensed energy was ripping apart and forcibly reconstructing Raq’s body. The sensation was as excruciating as tearing apart muscles and rejoining bones.

Despite the unbearable pain, Raq endured with sheer willpower.

Though the torment lasted less than three minutes, it felt like three hours. They were enduring a forceful compression of their strength, like pulling out teeth one by one every second.

This was a trial of endurance.

The process they were attempting would usually take three to six months of careful practice. But to accelerate it, they had gambled their lives. Even if they survived, their lifespans would be shortened.

Yet they were prepared to risk it all.

And having risked everything, the two knights—

"...Never again. This insane stunt is not worth it." "...Agreed."

Pale-faced, they returned from the brink of death.

Had either of them made even the slightest mistake, they would have died. But they survived because they were exceptional knights—one with a body as strong as steel, the other unmatched in talent.

It was a gamble only they could pull off, and they succeeded.

"How long will this last?" "About 15 minutes." "...That’s short." "What about me?" "20 minutes?"

"..."

"Well, it’s your first time. I’ve done this before with my men, so I managed it."

"...Suddenly, I feel sorry for your subordinates."

Despite knowing their lifespans had been shortened, neither cared. They focused solely on the "present."

To them, Turr muttered—

"…You’re both insane."

To be called mad by a madman...

Turr stared at them in shock.

For the first time, the grinning lunatic showed a serious expression.

"At first, I couldn’t figure out your bizarre behavior, but now I understand! You’ve shared your strength—your time!"

Turr grasped the concept. As a mage, it was easy for him to understand.

For mages, having a master was crucial. When a master died, their magic—their lifetime of accumulated magical flow and experience—could be imprinted upon the disciple.

Sharing time and power, it was a step toward a higher realm.

Of course, the "minor drawback" was that the master would die after transferring their magic. Because of this, most mages avoided the practice, and if a disciple wanted their master’s power…

…they had to kill them with their own hands.

It was why Turr killed his master.

When denied the power he desired, the only solution was death.

But to think such a practice...

"…Was possible for knights too!"

Turr’s eyes sparkled with fascination, but the knights only looked at him with contempt.

"Do you think we’re lunatics like you damn spell-slingers?" "Don’t spew nonsense."

"…That’s too harsh, don’t you think?"

Turr pouted, upset at how he was being treated, but the two knights merely sneered in response.

As if he were revolting to them.

And then—

“What we did isn’t anything like the disgusting magic tricks you monsters do, you filthy abomination.”

There was a technique called Gyeokchejeongong (External Power Transfer), the act of transferring internal energy from a master to their disciple, allowing the disciple to reach greater heights. While similar to the magical inheritance Turr had mentioned, what the knights had done was merely inspired by External Power Transfer.

It was…

“That’s!?”

“If you’re curious, why don’t you try experiencing it firsthand?”

“Ah, come on, that’s harsh.”

“...”

“…Haha, just kidding. Do as you please.”

Turr spread his arms wide again, signaling that he didn’t care what they did. Ihan and Raq, however, had other plans.

“Let’s see how long you can keep laughing.”

And they intended to show him.

THWACK!

“…Huh?”

The next moment, Turr felt pain.

“Finally managed to land a proper hit…”

Ihan smirked with satisfaction as the sensation resonated in his hand.

Striking down not just any spellcaster, but the most vile kind of spellcaster, was more than enough to relieve his stress.

And he wasn’t about to stop.

Whoosh!

“A thousand more times, you insane monster.”

He had no intention of being satisfied with a single punch.

*****

…Neither the forcefield nor Memorize reacted?

‘Why?’

Turr was perplexed that his protective field and defensive magic weren’t activating.

This was the first time since he’d become an archmage—or in the four centuries since—that something like this had occurred.

He thought he could figure out the cause and resolve it if given just ten minutes, but—

BOOM!

—the knights had no intention of giving him that time.

WHOOSH!

Ihan, already a remarkably quick and agile knight despite his heavy frame, was now moving at an unprecedented speed.

It was as if he were moving like the wind itself, a burst of explosive momentum that even he struggled to control. Ihan’s eyes widened as he strained to stay focused.

‘So this is aura manipulation? This is insane!’

Aura manipulation—the technique of detonating aura within the body to use its explosive power as a weapon.

Ihan now understood firsthand why aura manipulation was considered essential for knights and why it was still revered as the pinnacle of knightly techniques.

‘The sheer explosive force makes it unbeatable!’

Depending on how it was used, the explosion could amplify his physical abilities tens or even hundreds of times.

But without proper control, the same explosive power could destroy his body.

It was a dangerous balancing act, but Ihan didn’t care whether he fell off the tightrope. He fully unleashed his aura manipulation.

Not just any aura manipulation—but the aura technique of Galahad’s greatest knight, combined with the energy of the Celestial Slayer.

Ordinarily, no one would have been able to handle such power, but Ihan’s abnormally durable body allowed him to endure it.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Shockwaves of his Shattering Strike rained down like a storm.

The uncontrollable power expanded the range of the strikes, battering the entire Magic Tower.

The mages watching from afar were caught in the chaos.

“AAAAHHH!” “S-Save m—!”

SPLAT!

...They were reduced to pulp.

And as for Turr, who was taking the strikes head-on—

THWACK!

“Again…?”

He was in shock as another blow broke through his forcefield and struck him directly.

Drip...

Even with his transcendent magic, a mage’s fragile body wasn’t built to withstand such an impact.

Had it been any ordinary mage, they would’ve died instantly. Turr only survived because his magically enhanced body boasted steel-like durability.

But if the strikes kept landing, even Turr wouldn’t remain unscathed.

‘I have to block this...’

Turr attempted to cast a defensive spell himself for the first time in ages. But, unfortunately—

“You filthy brute, hiding such a useful skill all this time.”

CRACK!

He wasn’t facing just one opponent.

Raq had taken up a pair of short sticks, having detached the blade from his spear.

Whoosh!

Wielding the sticks, he began striking Turr with blinding speed.

It was a relentless assault reminiscent of Kali Arnis, a chaotic barrage of hits.

But it wasn’t just the speed that was overwhelming.

CRACKLE!

Turr’s forcefield buckled.

Every defensive spell Turr cast through Memorize was immediately shattered under Raq’s strikes. With every swing, the Red Aura enveloping Raq’s sticks grew more intense, eventually igniting like flames.

WHOOSH!

The Celestial Slayer energy—a destructive and unnatural force—had always been a double-edged sword. It harmed not only others but also its wielder.

But this time, it was different.

The Iron Body technique, perfected through Ihan’s grueling efforts, now protected and enhanced Raq’s body. For once, the murderous aura was not a threat to him but a tamed beast obeying his commands.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Even though overuse of this energy could potentially turn him into a mindless killer, Raq didn’t care.

‘That’s a problem for later!’

He knew that to kill this monster, he had to become one himself.

The energy he had loathed his entire life was now his most essential tool.

WHOOSH!

The Red Flame.

Raq’s Red Aura finally transformed into literal flames, consuming his entire body. His strikes, now imbued with the flames, burned through the forcefield and—

CRACK!

—shattered it completely.

“…Haha, how entertaining.”

Even as the crimson flames engulfed him, Turr laughed.

For the first time in over four centuries, the archmage felt the genuine threat of death. And he couldn’t be more thrilled.

‘So this is...!’

‘A fight to the death!’