That was the end of the academy incident. It was a bloodline magic from the man he first faced when that man had covered the academy in a massive barrier, and fought again when escaping the Royal Capital after several further entanglements.
The first time he'd taken the hit, he'd been completely unable to analyze the magic. It was different from Rose's third bloodline magic—some unknown element had been involved that made analysis impossible, and naturally, reproduction should have been out of the question.
But now, things were different. Now, he could use it—no, he could actually use it.
With that conviction, he spoke the magic's inscription.
"Formula Replay—"
"Bonfire Curtain of the Evil God."
What answered his call and appeared was something like a black haze drifting around him.
"! ...No way, that magic—"
Archbishop Gregorio, upon seeing it, opened his eyes wide as though it rang a bell and stared fixedly at Ermes—
"...I see."
—and then shed a single tear.
"There's nothing I can say that will reach you anymore. You're beyond saving, aren't you."
From the depths of his heart, with pity. With grief for the being before him. Truly, with the eyes one would use to look upon "one forsaken by God," he wept tears of mercy.
Come to think of it, "Bonfire Curtain of the Evil God" had indeed fallen under what the Church called "evil magic." Considering that, the Archbishop's reaction wasn't hard to understand—
...No, let me correct myself.
Actually, I still didn't understand. Because I had no desire to understand the thoughts of the being before me.
In any case, the other side had clearly designated him as a target for elimination.
He issued orders to his subordinate magicians, and several more charged toward him.
The same human bomb magic—an attack method so insane that neither those who deployed it nor those who carried it out could possibly be called sane. Triggering an intentional magic power rampage through the soul's rejection response, then subjecting the target directly to that detonation.
In truth, the subordinate magicians closed the distance with blank, maddened eyes.
Until now, there had been no way to stop it. A half-hearted barrier would be penetrated with ease, and there was no means among his available magic to halt a magic power rampage.
...But that was no longer a problem.
Because he understood now. The magic currently in his hand. The true value of "Bonfire Curtain of the Evil God."
What he'd been missing when wielding this magic was its essence—the thought and principle behind why it had been created and used.
In other words, the most fundamental of fundamentals: the feeling poured into that magic.
Facing the soldiers charging at him, Ermes raised his hand and contemplated.
It was a simple matter. There had never been any need to overthink it.
The feeling one should harbor when using this magic was pure, absolute, and utterly without pretense—
"—Vanish from before my eyes."
It was—
Rejection.
In an instant, the black haze solidified and generated a black barrier.
Without giving them even a moment to resist, it swallowed the soldiers whole—first physically, then visually, cutting them off from the outside world.
...After all, the original meaning of "barrier" was to sever. By cutting off the "outside" from the "inside," one could, quite literally, condense a world within.
Furthermore, this magic's core essence—rejection. Combined with that, the true value of this magic was—
(In addition to the barrier magic's effects, there was one more thing. Within the barrier, something could be rejected.)
Ermes understood this precisely.
...That said.
He couldn't simply erase the people trapped inside the barrier. It wasn't omnipotent to that degree, and it seemed there were conditions on what could be rejected.
But that, too, was no problem this time.
Because among the beings currently inside the barrier, there was one who—using the most literal sense of the word—wanted to be "rejected" more than anything or anyone.
All he had to do was use this magic to give that desire a push.
With that conviction, Ermes raised his hand further and declared:
"—'Reject the uninvited soul.'"
And that was all.
Inside the barrier, the soul that had been judged a foreign object—the soul that did not belong to its original owner.
In other words, the soul implanted by the Archbishop's magic was, at that moment, rejected by the magic and utterly annihilated without a trace.
...Naturally, the repulsion between souls ceased as well. At that point, the human inside was no longer a threat.
He dispelled the barrier.
Instantly, the person inside collapsed. Their body couldn't keep up with the sudden removal of the enhancement, presumably.
As expected, the human bomb ended in a dud. With almost comical ease, one of the Archbishop's trump cards had been sealed.
"What—what sinful thing have you done! That soul's last gleam of hope for salvation—!"
Gregorio was shouting something, but it didn't matter.
The next threat would be the bloodline magic fired by the soldiers forming a perimeter around him. The same magic that had until now forced him onto the defensive—
...But even that no longer posed the slightest threat. If anything, upon seeing it, what Ermes thought was:
(...Perfect timing.)
He had understood this magic's basic usage through that sequence.
So next—application. What he'd been beaten by in their first encounter, and what he'd seen through in their second.
He would now try using this magic the way he'd evaluated it: as a "counter-type magic."
First, he aimed at a convenient bloodline magic being launched toward him and fired his own.
A black barrier enclosed and sealed the magic. Next came the choice—specifically, what to reject. Eliminating the magic entirely would take considerable effort, and more importantly, was inefficient.
So instead, he preserved the magic's power and nature while rejecting and destroying only the "outer shell"—the parts that governed control and propulsion.
Then he dispelled the barrier.
What would happen next was self-evident.
The magic, its power intact but with its control mechanism destroyed, would—by natural consequence—
—Detonate.
"Gu—!?" "What are you doing!?" "Wh-what's happen—"
The magic went berserk right at the point where it had been launched. Moreover, having lost all control, it was both indiscriminate and far more powerful than the original spell. The resulting devastation was immeasurable.
Watching the enemy camp descend into chaos, Ermes aimed at yet another magic, activated his barrier, and began systematically triggering detonations—more efficiently, more effectively, targeting the spells that dealt maximum damage.
"You... can't be...!"
—Not a single one.
The countless bloodline magic that should have been fired—some were triggered into wild detonations, others were caught in the aftershocks of those explosions.
In the end, not a single spell reached Ermes... while the opposing camp alone suffered catastrophic damage.
As everyone stood in stunned silence—
"R-rt's not over yet—not against such an evil—!"
Credit where it was due. The first to move was Archbishop Gregorio himself.
As if to say that if one avenue was blocked he would simply reinforce another, he activated his magic. A web-like pattern spread across the ceiling, from which spheres of light began to rain down—
"That's not going to happen."
Ermes's words said it all.
He spread a black barrier across the entire ceiling.
...That was it.
That was all it took. Gregorio's magic was sealed. The spheres of light—the souls meant to possess targets—couldn't penetrate the black barrier by even a hair's breadth, simply hanging there inert.
This magic's essence was rejection—that is, "nothing gets through." In that regard, it was top-class even among bloodline magic.
...Yes, simply in its original function as a barrier, this magic stood incomparably above the rest, unquestionably at the apex.
"..."
Without a word, Ermes glided toward Archbishop Gregorio, who had been completely and perfectly stripped of every option.
"Kuh, this—!"
But the opponent was an Archbishop. Having his bloodline magic blocked wasn't enough to finish him.
As if to prove it, what he produced from his robes was a magical tool—an ancient magical tool that could instantly deploy a barrier, the same kind Archbishop Johann had possessed. The thinking was that it could hold off any incoming magic.
...Unfortunately, that was a catastrophic mistake. Because—
Of all things to do, he had tried to meet the magic currently controlled by Ermes—
—head-on, with a barrier.
Ermes activated his own magic as well, engulfing the Archbishop's barrier entirely within an even larger black barrier.
"'Reject the world beyond yourself.'"
And that was the end of that.
Erase the magic itself inside the black barrier—that would take considerable effort. Which is to say, it wasn't impossible with enough exertion.
Moreover, this magic was the apex of barrier-type spells.
...There was no way it would lose to the same category of barrier.
He dispelled the barrier.
What was revealed was Archbishop Gregorio alone—stripped of every last card he held, his face blank with incomprehension.
...Now then. Up to this point, he'd beaten the Archbishop using magic tactics that even that man could have employed.
So for the finish—how about closing with a magic technique that only Ermes could pull off?
With that thought, he first constructed a barrier. The black barrier once again enveloped the Archbishop—just before it fully enclosed him—
"—[Blaze]"
Before Gregorio could move, Ermes completed the chant and released the maximum-firepower magic he'd been holding in reserve, further amplifying it to absolute maximum output to produce a single massive flame.
—And hurled it into the black barrier.
This magic's primary mode of attack was countering. Its sole weakness was that it lacked direct offensive capability, so it relied on exploiting the opponent's magic, amplifying its power, and triggering a rampage.
...But Ermes, who held multiple bloodline magic and could wield several simultaneously—even if only indirectly—could use it more effectively.
Yes—
If he simply—
Made his own magic—
Go berserk—
—inside the barrier.
And so, Ermes deliberately detonated his own solo maximum-firepower magic at full power, within a barrier where there was absolutely no escape for the blast wave.
—the secret chapel trembled.
A thunderous roar, a shockwave, and so much heat that red light bled through the black barrier.
The energy surge was so immense it would be believable even if someone said a sun had been placed inside that barrier, and when the barrier finally dissolved—
"..."
With a heavy thud.
The utterly charred—honestly, it was surprising he still retained any recognizable form—Archbishop Gregorio collapsed to the ground.
...No one could make a sound.
Everyone watched the proceedings in dumbfounded silence.
Because who could have imagined it?
That one unassuming boy who didn't look particularly strong at all.
As though conducting an orchestra, he moved his fingers, and soldiers who'd been rushing toward him crumbled without understanding why. Wherever he pointed, magic detonated for reasons no one could fathom.
And in the end, he unleashed a magic that could only be described as the power of a god itself, and in a single blow, brought Archbishop Gregorio low.
That boy—the one who had wielded magic beyond human comprehension, irrational, inexplicable, and absurd—paid those stares no mind whatsoever.
"............Ah. This is really something."
His voice was transparent and cold, layered with countless emotions—yet entirely unreadable.
He murmured:
"—This magic is so convenient."
...Not a recognition of what he'd just done, nor an expression of emotion.
The first thing that came out of his mouth was—simply, an impression of the magic itself.
The moment those words reached them, the soldiers were certain.
That thing was something else entirely. Something incompatible with everything they were. An adversary wielding absolute power who could never, ever be accepted.
What should they call it? What name did it deserve?
The Church—the organization to which they belonged—had prepared a name that fit all too well.
"...Demon... creature..."
That title, murmured with despair and dread.
No one—not even Ermes's allies—could deny it.