In ordinary magic, each spell has a predetermined limit.
For example, the 2nd-tier spell
That was the law of magic.
From that perspective, the 3rd-tier spell
Because it has no fixed limit, the Magic Tower once announced that—at least in theory—if enough mana is present, even massive mountains could be moved.
Yet no mage uses this spell as their main arsenal.
The reason is efficiency. It consumes an excessive amount of mana compared to its power, to the point where it would be more reasonable to use a lower-tier 2nd-tier spell.
It was then that Verden thought,
'So, if one possesses enough mana to disregard efficiency, could it surpass even 3rd-tier power?'
A reverse way of thinking.
That was the result of that thought.
Rumble rumble rumble...!
The ground began to tremble, and the surrounding trees shook violently. The soldiers, swaying, barely managed to stay upright by stabbing their spears into the earth.
"W-What the hell?! Is it an earthquake?!"
"Shouldn't we be running?!"
"It's Lord Asher's magic! Do not panic, maintain your positions!"
Enok calmed the soldiers.
Yet even he was flustered inside. Not knowing much about magic, he had no idea what Verden was trying to do.
And then—
Crack!
Dirt flew as a circular crack formed on the ground.
The crack appeared precisely in front of the soldiers' feet. The land where the demi-humans stood—outside that circle—began to shift.
In the process, several goblins were crushed to death under orcs, and the scattered creatures were instantly pulled toward the Clown Orc's position.
'So this is the mana cost. The efficiency really is poor.'
But it didn't matter.
Vast mana was pulsing from Verden's heart. The mana raced through his mana circuits and transformed into an elemental property.
Boom!
The blazing orb exploded, engulfing the area around the Clown Orc. Verden didn't stop there and hurled another fireball in succession.
[GRAAAAAAARGH!]
[KIEEEEEEEEK!]
Dozens of figures perished within the flames.
Most of the demi-humans were reduced to ashes, but as expected, the Clown Orc couldn't be killed so easily. The creature chewed on nearby corpses and walked forward.
As if to say this kind of attack wasn't enough to stop him, it smirked and flaunted its strength.
Unaware it was exactly what Verden intended.
[GUOOOOOOOOOH!]
The creature charged, shaking the ground.
The weight it carried could be felt even from afar, but Verden did not move from his position.
A surging wave extinguished the flames and swept the Clown Orc away.
Steam clouded the vision, and the area around the creature became soaked. It was the perfect setup for an elemental linkage.
A chill formed at the tip of Verden's staff.
The few surviving demi-humans instantly froze. The Clown Orc, who had been charging at the front, suffered the same fate.
Even if it couldn't feel pain, it couldn't avoid the functional loss caused by frostbite. As its body stiffened, the beast screamed and reached out to Verden.
It was barely within reach.
"Lord Asher!"
But Enok's concern was unfounded—Verden's movements were unlike those of an ordinary mage.
Instead, he stepped inside the creature's reach, circled behind it, then kicked off the ground to quickly widen the distance.
Leaving a sphere of frost on the monster's back.
A persistent area spell of the ice element.
Cold surged from the orb and engulfed the surroundings.
[Guh... oh...!]
Exposed directly to the magic, the Clown Orc's skin turned bluish pale.
Its body gradually froze. It still felt no pain, but instinct sounded the alarm. It tried frantically to escape.
Then, the ground surged up.
Boom boom boom!
A massive dome enclosed the entire area. An ordinary 3rd-tier mage couldn't even dream of casting such a mana-intensive spell, but Verden had more than enough power left.
Just then, part of the dome collapsed, and a hand burst out.
[…]
It was the Clown Orc.
The grin it had just moments ago was long gone. Its respiratory organs had frozen over, and it couldn't even scream properly.
It tried to shatter its own frozen body and regenerate, but even after consuming the charred corpses of other demi-humans, it couldn't gain enough nourishment.
It had to get out somehow.
Desperate to survive, the Clown Orc reached for hope. Its head poked out from the crevice—and met eyes with Verden.
"You're not fully frozen yet, huh."
Then you need to go back in.
Once more, the earth surged upward and thickly covered the dome.
Thud! Thud! Vibrations trembled from within. A few fingers stuck out from a tiny gap. The knights immediately raised their swords toward them—but that was the end of the Clown Orc's movements.
...Silence followed.
Enok, still tense, asked Verden,
"Is it… dead?"
"It's dead."
It was a certainty.
After waiting a moment, Verden restored the earth to its original state. The Clown Orc, whose breath had frozen solid, was revealed.
"…It almost looks alive."
With Verden's consent, Enok slashed and severed the Clown Orc's wrist.
The cut-off part shattered into pieces. Not a single drop of blood flowed from the red cross-section. With no signs of reaction, its death was confirmed.
The situation was over.
As Enok sheathed his sword, sighs of relief echoed from those around him.
***
They used the bandits' wagon to carry the wounded.
Though Harris' injuries were the most severe, no major arteries or nerves had been damaged, so his life wasn't in danger. In the end, there were no fatalities.
"To think he killed that orc—one even knights struggled with—so easily. His name was Asher, right? That's what they must mean when they say 'genius,' huh?"
"Must be. A genius mage at that age. And that face, too… damn it, is this even a fair world?"
"Shut it, idiot! Keep your voice down! Haven't you heard stories of people getting killed just for pissing off a mage?"
Shock, fear, jealousy, admiration—
All eyes were on Verden, filled with emotions he wasn't used to. But it didn't feel bad. These were all things he had never experienced while stuck at the bottom of the Magic Tower.
Enok approached and offered his thanks.
"If not for you, Lord Asher, we would've suffered irreparable losses. I don't know how to repay you…"
"You don't have to worry about it. It was just an extension of the request I accepted."
It wasn't particularly dangerous or difficult. At least, not for Verden.
After all, Verden had an overwhelming advantage over the Clown Orc.
"Even so, the fact remains that we owe you our lives. I'll make sure to report your accomplishments to the lord so that you're properly compensated. If that's not enough, I'll pay out of my own pocket. Right, Perik?"
"We'll have to convince the lord to be generous, no matter what."
Exchanging light jokes, they allowed the tension of battle to dissipate.
Meanwhile, the soldiers loaded the corpses of two men—presumed to be the leaders of the bandit group—onto horses. The surviving bandits, tied at the hands with rope, were led away by reins.
Even if there were claims about village folk among them, until the facts were clear, it seemed they would be treated as criminals.
They had also collected the personal effects of adventurers taken by the demi-humans, so all that remained was to take care of the scattered corpses.
Verden handled that part himself.
With magic, he completely collapsed the bandit hideout and manipulated the terrain to bury the corpses and traces below the surface, creating a clean clearing.
'Or rather… a grave?'
Regardless.
On top of that grave, only the frozen corpse of the Clown Orc remained.
The creature that had massacred adventurers—clearly not a typical specimen—was kept because the Adventurer's Guild would offer a substantial reward for bringing it in.
'Besides, I'm curious about it too.'
That was why he had frozen it on purpose.
The Clown Orc floated gently into the air.
Enok, startled, asked,
"You're planning to take that with you? Wouldn't it be better to have the soldiers bring it tomorrow morning…?"
"It's fine. I'm headed that way anyway."
"Ha…"
Even after using that level of magic, he still had mana left?
Enok didn't know much about mages, but it was clear that Verden was far beyond ordinary.
The sun had almost set, and night arrived.
Instead of torches, magic candles lit the surroundings brightly. Only around midnight did they return to the lord's castle.
Thus, Verden's first bandit subjugation ended in success.
***
Verden exhaled and focused his mind.
A flow of mana—on a completely different scale than just days ago—ran through his circuits.
Many mages reach the 3rd tier, but few ever manage to surpass the wall that lies beyond. To achieve it at the age of just twenty-five was to be counted among the truly gifted.
Moreover, Verden's body was special.
Though he was a mage who wielded elemental magic, his mana circuits were not restricted by any particular element. Such naturally gifted circuits were nearly unheard of in the world.
Mana swirled in his palm. If he so wished, Verden could change it into any attribute.
'Luckily, none of the spells I remembered turned out wrong.'
The number of spells in the 3rd tier alone is immense.
Even just counting the elemental ones, there were easily over a hundred, starting from minor variants. Every single one of them was engraved in Verden's mind—a side effect of the Magic Tower's experiments.
He slowly retrieved the mana circulating through his circuits.
Just then, someone knocked at the door.
"Lord Asher! It's Conrad. The banquet is about to begin. Would you join us?"
"I'll be out soon."
He opened the wardrobe and took out a fairly luxurious outfit.
A gift Conrad had sent through a servant that morning. The deep blue color matched Verden's eye color well.
When he arrived at the banquet hall with Conrad, the soldiers were already celebrating cheerfully. Lord Pythe, who had been speaking with a knight, turned his eyes toward them.
"Ah! Welcome, Asher. Come, sit down and have some wine. It's not too strong, just right to whet your appetite."
Caught by the lord, Verden took a sip of wine, not knowing what was going on.
'Tangy. Not too strong, either.'
But why was the lord being so friendly?
Suddenly announcing a banquet yesterday—was that part of it? Slightly tipsy, the lord looked visibly pleased.
"The bandit group we subjugated three days ago—they weren't your average thugs, were they?"
"…They were quite different from the bandits I've known."
A dual-wielder with power on par with a 3rd-tier mage or knight.
With that level of skill, they wouldn't have needed to turn to banditry to survive.
Thinking about it, it did seem strange.
The lord pulled two worn pieces of paper from his robe and showed them to Verden.
Wanted posters. The faces of the two bandits Verden had seen earlier were drawn on them.
Varja, and Vilshen.
A bounty of ten million Elks for capture—dead or alive.
"This came in about a year or two ago. I heard those two were originally adventurers—Gold-rank, no less. They killed fellow adventurers and fled, crossed the kingdom's border, and disappeared for a while. Turns out they formed a bandit group and ended up here, in my barony."
Gold—the fourth rank among the eight Adventurer Ranks, requiring significant achievement to attain.
For people like that to turn into criminals and rampage as they did, a bounty of ten million Elks seemed well-justified.
'So that's why the baron looked so cheerful?'
What would have happened if they hadn't detected the magic circle? In the worst case, a mage could've gone berserk in town, casting destructive spells. The damage would've been massive.
Since they prevented that outcome, the lord had every reason to be grateful.
"Whew… hiring you was the right decision. Not only did you deal with the bandits, but also wiped out the demi-humans who massacred adventurers. The Adventurer's Guild says they'll be contacting us soon to express their thanks. The entire territory is practically indebted to you."
'That's… kind of an exaggeration.'
Verden tried to protest, but the drunken lord shook his head firmly.
"In any case! Of the bandits we captured, we'll release the villagers and execute the rest in a few days. Thanks to you, everything ended safely. Some townsfolk were harmed, but we've held proper funerals… Ah, this mood's getting too dark. Ahem. Now then! Raise your cups!"
At the lord's cry, the soldiers gathered and lifted their glasses.
They mourned the slain villagers and gave brief introductions of the knight and Verden, who had contributed most to the subjugation.
"To peace!"
──To peace!
Everyone downed their drinks at once. The atmosphere was so different from the Magic Tower, it felt unfamiliar—but not unpleasant.
Only then did Verden begin to enjoy the banquet. The lord, Conrad, knights, and soldiers all shared trivial stories and opened up emotionally.
At one point, even a maid serving food gave Verden a subtle look of interest—adding a pleasant little story to the evening.
The banquet was a joy.