After learning about Alpheas's past, Shirone and the others sat in stunned silence. The story was shocking—a heartbreaking tale of love and loss.
"So that's what happened to the principal…"
He had always seemed like the epitome of success: a certified 4th-class mage and principal of a prestigious academy. But according to Arcane's story, Alpheas in his youth had been nothing short of extraordinary—a Gold Circle recipient who had proven the photon theory at just ten years old. Most groundbreaking of all was the memory transfer experiment, an idea so ahead of its time that only now had the magical world begun exploring its potential.
"Alpheas was a genius, no doubt. But I was weak," Arcane said bitterly. "Everything could have been different if I had just endured a little longer. But I let a sliver of affection ruin it all. I can never forgive the Alpheas who made that choice."
Shirone found himself deep in thought. Arcane was undeniably a villain in the eyes of the world, yet he was also a mage—someone who had once stood at the frontier of magical discovery. In Erina's experiment, at least, Arcane had simply been a brilliant assistant.
"I understand. Maybe the principal was hypocritical in destroying your research," Shirone said carefully.
Arcane's murderous aura had lessened, allowing Shirone to speak more freely.
"But… I would've made the same decision."
Arcane's expression twisted in disdain.
"You say that even after seeing what Alpheas became? You admire him because he's a certified 4th-class? If you let emotions rule you, you'll never reach the top. Erina's death was tragic, but magic is magic. Alpheas wasn't qualified."
Shirone shook his head firmly. History would decide who was right, but he didn't believe Alpheas had acted out of emotion. At least not in the way Arcane implied.
"If the experiment had gone any further, more lives would have been lost. You would've performed human testing without a second thought."
"I won't deny it. But sometimes the sacrifice of a few saves the many. In the end, someone has to suffer. Isn't it our responsibility, as intelligent beings, to minimize that suffering? What would you say to a parent with a mentally disabled child? Could you still spout your ideals then?"
"I could."
Arcane's eyes narrowed. He wasn't used to defiance. But Shirone wasn't being stubborn—he had made up his mind.
"If sacrificing one person could save ten thousand, that might sound like a rational choice. But I still wouldn't do it."
"Then those ten thousand will die."
"Then they die," Shirone answered without hesitation. "Even if that day comes, it's not our place to weigh human lives like that. It's arrogance to believe we can. Even if more people suffer, all we can do is our best to save as many as possible. One day, we'll find a way to save ten thousand without sacrificing anyone. What you're doing isn't noble—it's what a tyrant would do, placing himself above everyone else."
At that moment, Arcane saw Shirone as his complete opposite. The idea that the few could be sacrificed for the many might sound noble, but in reality, most people would never accept it. Humanity lives in the gray between good and evil, always searching for what serves them best. But Shirone… Shirone stood at the far end of the moral spectrum. Both cruel killers and saints who saved mankind are judged after their time, and often persecuted equally.
'Your life won't be easy. Dying here might even be a mercy.'
Mages judge good and evil with intellect. But Arcane, who believed evil drove progress, now saw Shirone as a threat that had to be dealt with before it could grow.
"We're fundamentally incompatible. I'm sorry… but you have to die."
Shirone stepped back. Just moments ago, Arcane's power had seemed to dwindle, but now he radiated the might of a true archmage.
"Surprised, boy? Magic is delicate and deceptive."
According to research by the Magic Association, casting pure magic caused a mage as much mental fatigue as a normal person working non-stop for 48 minutes. But Arcane ignored such limitations, restoring his strength in an instant.
"Let's end this quickly. I promise it won't hurt."
A black veil of shadow erupted from Arcane's body and stretched across the sky, massive and oppressive. It dwarfed any dark magic Canis had ever unleashed.
As Arcane raised his right hand, the veil condensed into a giant fist. Shirone was stunned. If that thing fell, it could wipe out half the basin.
'I can't stop it. I can't even dodge it.'
In terms of raw numbers, one cubic centimeter of darkness magic produced about 0.1 Newtons of force—just a bit stronger than an ant's bite. But when scaled up to a billion units, the destructive power reached 1,000 tons—enough to obliterate everything on the ground.
"Stop, Master."
All heads turned to the cliff. Alpheas stood calmly, hands behind his back. With a roar of light, Thaad landed beside him.
"Teacher Thaad!"
Shirone and the others were visibly relieved. With Alpheas and Thaad present, it felt like an entire army had arrived. Thaad glanced up at the looming darkness and unleashed a fire line spell. Spiraling flames surged upward, converging into a massive fireball.
"Whoa…"
The sheer light bleached the surrounding landscape, blinding everyone. But Arcane, using his dark magic, shielded his retinas and stared forward unfazed.
"Hmph."
He raised a palm toward the fireball. The darkness above mimicked his motion and seized the flaming sphere.
Cheeeeehhhhh!
The sound was deafening. Shirone shivered—it was the loudest burning he'd ever heard. As darkness once again engulfed the world, Thaad frowned and shifted his Spirit Zone into an attack stance.
"Damn stubborn old man…!"
Alpheas raised a hand.
"Stop, Thaad."
"But Master—"
"This is my responsibility. This is between me and Arcane. Let me handle it."
Alpheas stepped forward. Arcane, dismissing the captured fireball, spread his shadow across the sky once more.
"You've grown old, Alpheas. Even a time mage can't defeat time."
Alpheas ignored his first words in forty years. Now was not the time for old fools to settle old regrets. As he walked through the crowd of students, he passed the wounded Iruki, Neid, and Shirone. He paused and glanced at Ethela, whose pale skin bore bruises from her earlier clash with Arcane.
"You've done well, Ethela. It's my failure that brought us here. I'm sorry."
"No, it's my fault. We couldn't protect the students."
Alpheas shook his head. When he had interviewed her for the teaching position, he had been unsure. But now, he couldn't be more proud of his choice. If not for her, the students wouldn't still be alive.
"Principal, please… be careful," Shirone said with concern.
He had believed that Alpheas could match Arcane if the villain's strength had been drained. But now, Arcane was in top form.
Alpheas gave a knowing smile.
"Don't worry. No magic can break the law of equivalent exchange."
"But Arcane… he must've recovered his mental energy."
"Yes, and that too… is part of magic."
"Magic?"
"Abyss-type magic manipulates memory. Arcane invented it himself. It's the one type of magic he has truly mastered. Isn't that right, Master?"
Arcane let out a low, bitter chuckle.
"You don't seem to be suffering from dementia. Anyway, the magic you were hit with is called Abyss Nova. It's on a completely different level. I've experienced its effects firsthand, so I know exactly how powerful it is."
"It was incredible magic. It even helped me remember things from long ago."
"Don't act tough. You were one of the first to flee in fear. I bet you were crying your eyes out."
"You're not wrong. But you've grown weak since Master last saw you. You can barely cast Abyss Memory on children who aren't even a hundred years old yet."
Arcane didn't react with anger. As long as Alpheas remained calm, he stayed calm too. No amount of conversation could erase forty years of hatred.
Alpheas turned his gaze to Shirone, his expression relaxed, as if savoring the calm before a storm.
"Shirone, to cast magic, you need intense, focused concentration in a split second. It's like compressing an hour's worth of effort into one second. That's why Arcane did what he did."
He tapped his temple with his index finger.
"He used memory-erasing magic—on himself."
"Ah…"
Shirone's eyes widened. So that was possible. By erasing the memory of mental exertion, a person could recover from fatigue. Of course, it would eventually cause strain and overload, but used sparingly, it could help restore one's mental energy.
Alpheas understood Shirone's complicated emotions. Viltor Arcane—a powerful dark mage who survived a century of battlefield strife with forbidden magic. A bitter remnant of the past. No matter how much he hated him, he had to admit Arcane's skill.
"Yes. It's a daring and impressive technique. That's the world Arcane lives in. Remember this, Shirone—anyone who doesn't have at least one hidden trump card will never survive in combat magic."
Arcane frowned in irritation.
"Oh, how flattering. I'm sure even stray dogs would laugh at that compliment."
Alpheas spoke calmly, yet firmly.
"Are you alright? The mental energy you've recovered with Abyss Memory may feel real, but it's just an illusion created by the brain. If you plan to push further, I can't guarantee your survival."
There's no such thing as free magic. The mental power restored by Abyss Memory came at a steep cost—it was a trade-off that could lead to brain death.
Arcane sneered.
"So what? Are you trying to stop me now?"
"If you back down, we can end this here," Alpheas offered. "This might be your last chance. No one's been harmed yet, so I can still offer a way out. But if you can't let go of your obsession, you'll have to face the consequences."
Arcane laughed coldly.
"You still talk like you're the noble one. You act like you care, but in the end, you're only protecting yourself. Do you think your past sins will disappear if I walk away? It's too late. Everyone here—and even the students affected by Abyss Nova—have heard enough. You'll no longer be headmaster after this."
Shirone glanced at the students who had lost their memories. Once the magic faded, everything that happened here would remain with them. Even if the battle ended without bloodshed, it would leave a lasting impact.
Arcane jeered.
"Are you grasping the situation yet? Why not just kill them all? Will you take the fall for me then?"
Alpheas gave a faint smile.
"That was a poor attempt at humor."
"Then come with me," Arcane said, gesturing. "This is your final chance. You still have Erina's legacy to tend to, don't you? Look what I've accomplished! Behold—my magical organism harvester!"
Shirone and the others turned in the direction Arcane pointed. The Harvest lay crumpled on the ground like discarded cloth.
"It's a little broken now, sure. But the experiment was a success. If you help me, we can go even further. This is exactly what Erina wanted."
At the mention of her name, Alpheas' eyes sharpened.
"Master, please stop. Just let it go."
The conversation may have seemed trivial, but both men knew it was only a surface exchange. Their feud had been festering for decades.
"You think you can beat me, Headmaster?" Arcane snarled. "Don't make me laugh. You've always made foolish choices while pretending to be wise. That hasn't changed, Alpheas."
Dark energy gathered in the air, forming fists of shadow. Alpheas slowly lifted his hands, preparing his magic.
"You're right. One foolish decision is enough."
He began compressing photons between his palms. Arcane scoffed at the sight.
"Using basic photon output against me? You've grown weak, Alpheas."
"You won't know that until we try."
"Trying first? Isn't that the phrase you used to hate most? Where's the Alpheas who said one must know before acting?"
"Mages are meant to look to the future. I may have lost my ambition, but not my wisdom. Do you really think I haven't accounted for the last forty years?"
Arcane narrowed his eyes.
"Oh? So this is what you've been preparing for all this time? And it's just… photon output?"
"Let's bring this to an end."
Alpheas raised his hands to the sky. The compressed photons shrank until they were smaller than dust. At the same moment, Arcane unleashed his darkness—a devastating blow carrying the resentment of forty years.
Shirone and the others watched the power of darkness descend like a meteor. Up close, it was far more overwhelming than expected.
Alpheas's hands lowered in a smooth, flowing motion. His arms moved with such grace that they split into dozens of afterimages. Those watching were filled with awe.
What is this? Shirone thought.
To their eyes, Alpheas moved in slow motion. The photon particle, now almost microscopic, surged forward at the speed of light. The dark energy hadn't even reached halfway.
Time itself felt suspended. Shirone couldn't move or even breathe.
Then—
Flash!
A blinding explosion of light turned the world white. The darkness was torn apart and scattered. The light rippled out across the school, fading like a ring spreading through water.