Magic That Changes the World

In an instant, the three goblins froze. The silent goblin tilted his head slightly, his gaze bypassing Blake's shoulder to land on Oliver.

“Elven magic... No, it's not just Elven magic!” The silent goblin felt a sense of threat.

Leopold looked in surprise at the seemingly frail back. Oliver stood with his hand raised, and that golden defensive magic, thin as a cicada's wing, had actually blocked the silent goblin's fatal blow.

Oliver's mind was completely blank.

Or rather, he was thinking of so many things that the thoughts crowded together, turning into a void.

“Father...”

In all of Oliver's hundred and sixty years of life, he had never truly believed his magic could block anything.

How long ago had that been? His father had already been very old, his hair stark white. Back then, his father would often sit by the window with an exquisite quill, recording his lifelong understanding of magic word by word in a thick journal.

“Oliver, come here.”

“Father.” The young Oliver walked over, and his father pulled him onto his lap, gently stroking his head.

“I'm sorry, Oliver. Father is going to see Mother, and I have to leave you all alone...”

Oliver opened his mouth. At the time, he did not understand the meaning of death; he only knew that his father had pressed a slender, silvery-white wand into his hands.

“I wanted to wait until you were a bit older to give this to you,” his father's voice had already grown faint, “but Father might not make it to that day. Oliver, take it.”

Oliver stared at the emerald on the wand, only knowing that he had received another beautiful gift, and smiled happily.

“Use magic to change the world.” His father lowered his head, pressing his forehead gently against the crown of Oliver's head. “Because my Oliver is a natural magical genius!”

Oliver stared at the goblins before him, his heart pounding wildly. What should he do? If he didn't act, Mr. Leopold and the others would be in danger.

But he hadn't changed the world. He hadn't even been able to protect the private school his father left behind, nor his mother's village. On the morning after the demon race invaded, he had crouched before the ruins, cradling his father's life's work in his arms, the warm sunlight shining on his back.

Since then, he had never used magic for anything...

“...Oliver, are you crying?” Leopold's voice came from behind him.

Oliver froze. He instinctively reached up to wipe the tears from his face. What was happening? He was actually crying.

“N-No,” he lowered his hand, trying to act strong. “I'm just...”

Leopold set Isabella down carefully and forced himself to his feet, speaking with a hint of weakness, “Since you know a little magic, Blake and I will buy you time. Please use your strongest spell!”

“We're counting on you, Teacher Oliver!”

“My strongest... spell.”

He looked down at his still-trembling fingertips. The golden magic circle spun slowly before his palm.

In that moment, he suddenly understood something.

“...Alright. I understand, Mr. Leopold.”

He looked up. Though tear tracks still stained his grayish-green eyes, something inside him had completely changed.

“Mr. Leopold, Mr. Blake, please hold them off!”

Leopold smiled and stepped in front of Oliver. “Blake.”

“Got it.” Blake, in his dragon form, stood by his side. “Can you still fight?”

“I can still hold on.” Leopold took a deep breath as countless shadows surged around him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! The plan didn't say anything about a half-elf who knows Elven magic on the other side!” The cheerful one on the left finally wiped the smile off his face.

“Ugh... I don't want to fight... He really knows magic...” The one on the right began to tremble again, but he gripped his daggers even tighter.

The silent one finally spoke, his voice like sandpaper scraping against stone: “...Kill the half-elf. Priority.”

Before the words even faded, the three goblins charged at Oliver simultaneously!

“Blake, on the left!” Leopold shouted.

“I don't need you telling me what to do!” Blake had already lunged forward, his massive dragon body slamming into the cheerful figure on the left, forcing him back.

At the same time, the shadows beneath Leopold surged violently. Two black claws erupted from the ground, tightly binding the silent goblin and the weeping goblin.

“Ugh... Let go of me! Let go of me!” The weeping goblin, his ankles ensnared by the shadows, slashed wildly with his daggers, but every shadow he severed was instantly replaced by another.

The silent goblin, however, stopped struggling. A look of utter disbelief appeared on his face.

“...This magic power.” The silent goblin's voice was much quieter than before, as if he were talking to himself. “How can there be... such a massive amount of magic power?”

Leopold followed his gaze and looked back—

Oliver stood in place. Beneath his feet, one complex magic circle after another stacked, rotated, and intertwined.

Leopold was stunned for a moment. He had never seen this kind of magic, nor was there any record of it in his inherited memories. He could only sense one thing: the magic power within Oliver was climbing at an unbelievable speed!

The silent goblin's dull eyes stared fixedly at the magic circles beneath Oliver's feet. His pupils contracted sharply, as if he were looking at something that shouldn't exist in this world.

“...Six-Star,” he muttered, his voice so raspy it was barely audible. “Mage Saint.”

“Stop him, quick!” the silent goblin roared!

Oliver had already begun to chant. The three goblins charged forward like madmen, desperate to reach him.

“In your dreams!” Blake's tail swept across, the massive dragon tail slamming down onto the goblins' path with a howling wind.

“Ugh... I don't want to fight... but a mission is a mission!” The weeping goblin suddenly looked up, his twin daggers spinning in his hands as they shot toward Oliver at a speed Leopold could barely track.

Clang! Clang!

Leopold's shadow shield expanded once more, the two daggers embedding themselves into the dark surface.

“Don't even think about it!”

Oliver finally spoke:

“Astra sancta, iudicium vetus. Omnis pravitas, aboleatur.”

(Holy stars, ancient judgment. May all twisted filth be utterly eradicated.)

“Claustrum caeleste, nullus evadat. Peccata abscondita, manifesta luce.”

(Construct the heavenly cage; let none escape. Let the hidden, wicked power reveal its true form beneath the holy light.)

“Finis tenebris, vincula aeterna!”

(The endless darkness ends here; let the shackles of silence bind for eternity!)

A massive golden magic circle unfolded behind Oliver, rotating slowly and shedding golden glimmers of light. Immediately following were the second and third—manifesting out of thin air around Oliver, layering over one another and blooming at various heights throughout the mine shaft.

“What is this?” The silent goblin stared at this scene in disbelief.

In the next instant, countless brilliant chains of holy light tore through the air. Bearing the biting, sacred purity unique to the stars, they ripped through the dim air of the mine shaft and locked onto the three frantically fleeing goblins with pinpoint precision.

The first to be ensnared was the timid, weeping goblin on the right.

Already paralyzed with fear by the pressure of the layered Six-Star magic circles, the sudden onslaught of holy light chains instantly bound his limbs, waist, and neck.

“Ahhhh—it burns, it burns! Let me go!”

On the left, the last trace of playfulness on the cheerful goblin's face shattered completely.

He had intended to rely on his extreme agility to evade the chains. But the sky was dense with them, leaving him absolutely no opening.

Countless chains instantly coiled around him, binding his limbs. As the violent power of the holy light poured into his body, he could do nothing but wail in agony.

And the silent goblin, who had remained calm and patient throughout and was the strongest of the three, finally lost all his composure.

“Heh...”

He watched helplessly as his companions were instantly bound and severely injured, while the space around him was completely locked down by the magic circles. Only one ending awaited him—death!

Perhaps this was the ultimate destination of the Dragon Slayers. He gave a self-deprecating laugh, completely powerless.