Unprecedented. There was no other way to describe the situation. A trial meant to efficiently filter out examinees had been utterly dismantled by a single individual.
Dale's Life Points: 59. All others: eliminated. Though it was called a "Life Point Scramble," no one had expected one person to monopolize all the points. Gasps of disbelief echoed from all directions.
Dale calmly lifted his head, looking toward the members of the Black Tower watching from afar. He had never been interested in the fledgling mages present here. The ones Dale truly needed to prove himself to—
Just as the knights of House Saxon, the Night Raven Order, served as the Duke's personal guard through force, the elders of the Black Tower under the Tower Master were no different—the "Black-Clad Guard."
And the "Tower Trial" had only just begun.
──Tower Trial, Second Layer. The second test.
Defeat the layer guardian: the Flesh Golem. A grotesque creature composed of bulging, bursting muscle masses, easily several meters tall. Needless to say, it was not an opponent a lone 3rd Circle mage could handle. This was a cooperative battle meant for multiple examinees to combine strength and strategy.
But there was one problem.
"Ah…"
Only those who survived the first layer's "Life Point Scramble" could proceed to the second. And—
"I eliminated everyone, didn't I."
In other words, Dale had no allies to cooperate with. Not that it mattered.
With a wry smile, Dale looked up at the Flesh Golem. An opponent that required the full power of several novice mages working together to even have a chance. The Flesh Golem roared, and the audience held their breath. No matter how impressive Dale's talent had been, this opponent was on another level.
He still couldn't use the artifact "Shadow Cloak." But he was now allowed to use magic beyond necromancy. A battle where a mage could unleash their full power.
'That's enough.'
That alone was more than Dale needed. More than enough. He had reached the 3rd Circle—and now had the chance to truly test his abilities. The Flesh Golem roared and charged, shaking the ground like a rampaging war machine. Just as the audience fell silent in awe—
Dale stood motionless. The golem's massive fist came crashing toward Dale's face. Everyone thought it would land a critical blow and shatter his Life Point Necklace.
"Accelerated Decay."
Refined dark mana surged from beneath Dale's feet, wrapping around him like a shroud. The golem's strike landed on the edge of that dark veil. Just centimeters from Dale's nose, the flesh at the end of the golem's fist began to rot rapidly.
Freshness, bloating, decomposition, advanced decay. The entire process of organic death condensed into the tick of a second hand.
──The decomposition of organic nitrogen compounds by decay bacteria.
In "that other world," biochemical warfare against monsters was a key strategy alongside thermal weapons. In this world, such biochemical warfare was called "black magic." And the knowledge Dale retained from his past life as the commander of humanity's final resistance was far beyond high school level.
──In some ways, it might even surpass the Black Duke himself.
Add to that the battlefield horrors of rotting corpses, maggots, insects, and flies—The boundary between life and death that had defined Dale's entire existence. Only such intense experience and understanding could trigger this magic. A miracle born from countless elements that could not be misaligned.
Amid the stench of death, Dale calmly lifted his head. It was a smell he knew all too well.
"…Unbelievable."
Those who couldn't enter the audience chamber watched the trial through magical projectors within the tower. The Black Duke was among them, observing his son Dale's performance. Beside him stood his most trusted secretary, the Black Proxy, Eris.
Unbelievable. That was her honest impression of Dale's performance. For someone who rarely showed emotion, this was the peak of astonishment.
Decay magic was among the highest levels of black magic—far beyond the comprehension of a mere 3rd Circle "child mage." Only those deeply versed in the cycle of life and death could wield such advanced magic. And to use it instantly in combat required exponentially greater skill.
"He reminds me of the Tower Master's youth."
But Dale's talent—and the weight of the name "Black Duke"—made it impossible not to accept. The mere fact that he was the Black Duke's son was enough to silence doubt. That was the power held by the continent's greatest necromancer—the Black Duke.
"…"
And the fact that even such a man remained silent was what made Dale truly terrifying.
At the end of that day—
Dale successfully cleared the 10th layer, proving himself. The astonishment of those who witnessed his feats was beyond words. It was a record of wonder in itself, and the performance he showed during the trial was even more shocking.
After a few days of rest, the trial of the 11th layer approached. This was the boundary that separated novices from true mages, where the difficulty spiked dramatically. Other early-stage examinees who had cleared the 10th layer joined Dale. His opponents were no longer academy graduates, but official members of the Black Tower—practitioners of dark magic.
No more trivial monster hunts like ghouls or flesh golems. The Life Point Necklace no longer guaranteed survival, and examinees were allowed to use their full arsenal. Artifacts, grimoires, and all manner of items purchased through personal skill or family wealth.
Meanwhile, to recover from the unprecedented massacre in the first layer's "Life Point Scramble," a rare re-examination was granted to the 59 academy graduates who had been eliminated—excluding Dale.
"Dale."
That night, as Dale was about to rest after the trial, an unexpected face appeared.
"Miss Sepia!"
Sapphire-blue hair and pointed elven ears. A beauty that gleamed like ice, softened by a faint, gentle smile.
"You performed wonderfully in the trial."
His teacher Sepia spoke with a smile. It seemed she had watched his trial as well.
"And to reach the 3rd Circle overnight… your progress is truly astonishing."
"It's all thanks to your teachings, Miss Sepia."
"…Thank you for saying that."
Sepia smiled softly. Her voice carried a complexity that was hard to explain, and Dale didn't miss it. Now that Dale had chosen not to hide his abilities, and as she watched her student grow day by day—
What thoughts filled the mind of a 6th Circle elven mage, once his teacher? He didn't want to be seen as a monster. But Dale's achievements had already far surpassed the realm of genius. Genius and monster were separated by a mere sheet of paper—and Dale had stacked hundreds of those sheets.
"Miss Sepia."
After a moment of thought, Dale spoke.
"Would you go on a date with me?"
"D-Date…?"
Sepia's expression turned rosy with surprise—like a shy young girl.
"Yes! There's a festival in the city, after all!"
Dale said, feigning the innocence of a ten-year-old who didn't grasp the deeper meaning of the word "date."
"…Alright. Let's do that."
Sepia finally replied.
"A date… I suppose that's not entirely wrong."
"What's wrong, Miss Sepia?"
"Oh, it's nothing."
Sepia smiled with a look that said, "You're still too young to understand." So gentle and kind.
But what Sepia overlooked that day was that Dale understood the meaning of "date" perfectly well.
'So this is what they mean by being pitch-black inside.'
Dale thought to himself, as if it were someone else's story. And it was, indeed, a fitting description.
A pale, ashen winter sky. Even the biting wind couldn't melt the warmth of the festival. Mages gathered, people gathered, and the City of Death was filled with life and energy.
A tributary of the Sachsen River ran through Necropolis. Frozen solid from the cold, moonlight scattered across the ice like fish scales. Dale and Sepia walked across a stone bridge over the river.
"You've been through a very difficult trial. Aren't you tired?"
Sepia asked with concern as they walked.
"I'm fine."
Dale quietly shook his head.
"Besides, the next trial won't start for a few more days."
"I see. That's good to hear."
A brief exchange followed, and silence settled in.
"…The moon is beautiful."
Dale spoke after the silence.
"Yes, it truly is."
Sepia smiled gently at his words. Silence returned.
'…The conversation isn't flowing very well.'
The silence wasn't uncomfortable. Conversations with Sepia were always like this. But—
'I want to get closer to her.'
Not just as teacher and student.
Why? Dale didn't know. He simply recalled the empty world he saw when he reached the 3rd Circle. That was the inescapable truth. Dale's true world.
And once he realized that truth, Sepia's kindness pierced his heart. Her warmth, despite knowing the monstrous face he carried. He liked Sepia for always believing in him. Or maybe he just wanted someone—anyone—to help him escape "that world."
From the endless gray horizon, the void, the bone-chilling loneliness of his true world—
"I like you, Miss Sepia."
"…?!"
Dale said. Sepia's elven ears perked up in surprise.
"W-What did you just say?"
"I like you, Miss Sepia!"
Dale smiled innocently, wearing the face of a child who didn't understand the weight of his own words.
"…I see."
Sepia smiled softly in return.
"I like you very much too, Dale."
Her voice was gentle and loving. Just like always. In the end, it was a ten-year-old human child and an elf. Nothing would change.
"Thank you, Miss Sepia."
And so Dale smiled quietly, turning away from the dark emotions stirring in his heart.
'…Living twice really is something.'
He thought to himself, feigning indifference.
The ashen sky remained dark and heavy.