Where there is black, there is white.
Where there is joy, there is sorrow.
Where there is wealth, there is poverty.
Everyone cannot be happy, and everyone cannot be miserable.
This is the law of the world.
And the magic city of Tetradia was a place that followed that law most faithfully.
Fitting for a city of magicians who studied and utilized the laws of the world, the law of duality was clearly revealed.
[New Innovation in Magic! The Next Lord of the Magic Tower! Willstaum Berion!]
A magical slogan sparkled brilliantly in the distant sky.
Looking up at it, the boy’s body was filthy, smelly, and emaciated.
The hidden side of the magnificent magic city.
Light and darkness.
Unfortunately, the place where the boy was born was the darkness.
The long shadow cast by the light.
The underground city of Tetradia, thick with the stench of rot.
A world where living day to day was only possible if one was lucky.
Memory began from that place.
He had adapted to the pungent stench that he thought he could never get used to.
He had adapted to the stomach that throbbed from starvation, yet the one thing he could never adapt to was himself.
He could not adapt to the version of himself that had adapted to this sewer-like place. It was difficult to accept.
*Pop! Bang — *
Magical fireworks exploded whenever people were bored. He wanted to go to the upper town, which was bright and warm all year round.
But he couldn’t.
No matter how much he reached out toward the brilliant sky, he could not touch it.
From this sewer, the sky was too far away.
He wanted to go out into the light, but the reality was that even that was impossible.
“You’re a brat who doesn’t know how the world works. I’ll make good use of your money.”
The money he had painstakingly scraped together was all gone.
He was beaten thoroughly by the cackling sewer thugs.
“Hey, kid. Know your place. People like us would only burn to death if we went out into that bright world.”
“We’re just using this wasted money for you. Heh heh heh.”
The day he was thrown into a pile of trash.
Of all things, it rained, his fever rose, and the stench was particularly unbearable that day.
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way out now.
A life born in the sewers could never go out into the brilliant world.
Since he was tattered from birth, he didn’t even have the heart to feel worn out anymore.
He just looked up at the sky as his consciousness blurred.
Blood and sweat.
Stench and rain.
Looking up at the brilliant night sky where fireworks exploded along with sweat and tears, he was about to let everything go.
Then, what appeared before the boy was…
“Oh dear…”
It was a miracle.
A miracle named Len Hank.
And only then could Hio realize it.
“Child, are you alright?”
‘This is a memory of the greatest magician, Abellar Pavlenko.’
After escaping the underground of Tetradia with Len Hank, the place Abellar headed to was the Tower of Mages he had only dreamed of.
He encountered magic naturally and learned it naturally.
No, it wasn’t natural.
He learned magic at an uncanny speed.
Every attribute produced the best effect when it met Abellar, and the number of Circle Inscriptions he could accommodate was several times that of an ordinary person.
“Magically, there is nothing more you can learn from me.”
The time it took to hear those words from Len Hank was only six years.
It meant that was the time it took for a boy from the sewers, who had no magical knowledge or experience, to become a magician of the 5th Circle.
“Still, I am worried. You seem to be running forward too fast. I’m afraid you’ll miss out on many things you should enjoy at your age.”
“It’s alright. I’m already enjoying things more than enough.”
“…Child. What kind of dream do you have? What are you aiming for that makes you look only forward like that?”
At the old magician’s question, what Abellar looked at was not Len Hank.
It was the sky that even the soaring Tower of Mages had ultimately failed to conquer.
He was looking at the top of the tower, which was as close to it as possible.
“It’s nothing special.”
He was merely looking up at the sky he had looked up at his whole life, just a little bit closer.
“I want to see the end of magic.”
“You will be running for the rest of your life, then.”
“No. It will be over soon.”
Looking up for a long time, Abellar lowered his gaze for a moment and spoke with a certain conviction that it would truly be so.
“Because I think it will be.”
***
After that day, Abellar left Len Hank’s school and traveled around learning the magic of various schools.
An ordinary magician would be busy belonging to one school to conduct research or achieve their own results, but Abellar traveled around learning only magic as if he had no intention of doing that.
This was possible because it was Abellar.
It was possible because there was no one who didn’t know his monstrous genius and no magician who didn’t covet him.
For normal magicians, even geniuses had a limit to their Circle Inscriptions, but such a thing did not exist for Abellar.
His limit was so nonexistent that it could be called infinite, and his magical understanding was so extraordinary it could be called innate; he was truly a person born for magic.
He collected and learned all possible types of magic, while simultaneously increasing the number of his Circles.
One year, two years.
As the years passed, his skills increased to a shocking degree, and his reputation grew in proportion.
There was no one on the entire Continent who did not know Abellar’s name.
Since Hio watched the entire process through Abellar’s eyes…
‘……This is the life of a true genius.’
It was a life for magic.
It was a life dedicated only to thinking about, researching, and pursuing magic.
It was the perspective and thought of a true genius, and if time continued to flow like this, it seemed he might truly see the ultimate magic — the end of magic — just as he had calmly stated.
Then, a person suddenly appeared in Abellar’s life as he was soaring.
“It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The area around his eyes shimmered in black.
A presence that was hard to notice unless one concentrated.
A face and expression that were identical, without a single error, to the one Hio knew.
“My name is Kreutzvalt.”
It was the first meeting between Kreutzvalt and Abellar.
“Kreutzvalt?”
Abellar’s indifferent eyes turned toward Kreutzvalt.
“The magician who was said to have died hundreds of years ago?”
“Heh heh heh. I was perceived as dead. I am not dead.”
“I wonder…”
He scanned Kreutzvalt up and down.
He cast his gaze behind him, checking the path he had walked.
No one he had passed had noticed Kreutzvalt.
They hadn’t even recognized his existence.
“How is that different from being dead?”
“Heh heh. An outstanding child like you can see me, can’t you? That is how it’s different.”
“So?”
Abellar was colder and more rational than imagined.
As if he were a person without emotions, he showed no agitation at all at Kreutzvalt’s appearance.
“So I am asking why an ancient ghost has appeared before me.”
“You are quite the magician. I like you.”
“Are you going to teach me black magic or something?”
“Heh heh heh heh. That wouldn’t be bad either, but for now, I will tell you something even more amazing than that.”
“Something amazing?”
“Yes.”
Kreutzvalt, who was chuckling, slowly walked forward with his hands behind his back.
Even that appearance was familiar.
“Do you want to see the end of magic?”
“Correct.”
“Do you want to complete the ultimate magic?”
“Yes.”
“Unfortunately, you cannot do that.”
“…Did you appear with a body that is neither dead nor alive just to say that?”
Abellar walked past Kreutzvalt with eyes devoid of interest.
“How many people do you think have said that to me?”
“At least over a hundred.”
“You know well. It’s 187 people.”
“Tsk tsk… Those fellows must have been marked by you. By the next Lord of the Magic Tower. Unfortunately for them.”
“And now it has become 188 people.”
“Heh heh heh heh. Am I being treated the same as those ignorant fools?”
“The only difference is that bizarre body of yours.”
Kreutzvalt appeared like a ghost again in front of Abellar, who was walking away.
“Child. What I am talking about is not your talent. You are truly a being born for magic. If someone like you doesn’t see the end of magic, who will?”
He whispered words like a snake in front of him.
Abellar stopped walking and listened to the ghost’s words.
“Do you know why I became like this in the first place? I, who can boast that I have seen the end of black magic and Necromancy.”
“You saw the end?”
“Only a tiny fraction. Just by seeing that, I saw a part of the truth and looked into the future a thousand years from now. This is the price for it.”
“…Is that so.”
Abellar was lost in thought, and Kreutzvalt slowly loitered around him.
“As expected, you were guessing. What it means to see the end. What kind of conclusion it will bring.”
His smile deepened.
“You are qualified. You were born for magic, desired only magic, and your talent for it is more than enough.”
It was possible if it was Abellar.
Kreutzvalt was saying so.
It was different from others.
He truly believed it, not as false flattery.
“However, what is lacking is time, and the environment.”
Kreutzvalt gripped a staff that seemed to have been there all along.
Then, he lightly tapped the ground.
“Would you like to see the near future?”
The world began to change.
He intended to convey the truth he had seen to Abellar.
“This is the reason you cannot see the end of magic.”
Strange Entities invaded.
War broke out, and countless people died.
While the Abyssal Depths were rushing in, Abellar saved countless people and rescued the country, but…
The end was ultimately a world sinking into the Abyssal Depths.
Tetradia dyed in darkness.
A magic city that was no longer brilliant.
The sight of magicians who died miserably within it.
The terrible end of Len Hank.
“I… won’t reach the end of magic because of just this trivial thing?”
“Yes. It is the truth and the future of the world I saw. It is your conclusion.”
“Well, it’s a plausible illusion. As expected of the skill of an Archmage who left his name.”
“Heh heh heh… You don’t believe me.”
The illusion lifted.
The place was once again the wide corridor of the Magic Tower.
He had unfolded such an Illusion Magic in the center of the Magic Tower, which was covered with various restrictions.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll find out step by step anyway. Then, you won’t be able to help but believe.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“Heh heh heh heh. Yes, yes. Just keep this in mind.”
Kreutzvalt’s figure gradually faded.
It was an absolute state of magic that was already several stages above the Abellar of that time.
“You will see the end of magic.”
Even so, Kreutzvalt was certain.
Just as Abellar had once said to Len Hank.
It would happen as a matter of course, without the slightest doubt.
“And you will become the greatest God of Magic.”
He spoke words that were far too unfitting for a magician.
“The method lies with me. I will come back. Let’s talk again then.”
The legendary genius Abellar Pavlenko.
Kreutzvalt before he became the Lord of the Abyss.
And Hio Pavlenko, who was scouring their memories.
The unofficial first meeting of the three men ended like that.