Chapter 113
Mystogan’s plans couldn’t be rushed.
They still hadn’t deciphered the spell required to reverse Anima, so it was far too early to start arranging the grand performance he intended to stage in Edolas.
Meanwhile, ever since Marshall installed the Space-Time Signal Relay, Lisanna had begun secretly "calling" him from the other world every few days.
Marshall answered the first call and endured three uninterrupted minutes of complaints.
Most of them amounted to:
"How could you set me up like that?"
"Do you not care about me anymore?"
And other accusations along those lines.
Marshall quickly learned how to deal with her.
Whenever Lisanna launched into another rapid-fire barrage, he simply continued reading while offering the occasional "Mm-hmm" or "I see."
Every so often, he would adopt an appropriately remorseful tone before carefully ending the call.
After two or three conversations failed to produce any meaningful response from him, Lisanna switched to sending messages incessantly after each call.
Marshall skimmed through them.
Her attitude shifted from furious, to arrogant, to willing to negotiate, then to pleading, before finally ending with a pitiful mixture of complaints and apologies.
Watching her awkwardly go from aggressive to submissive nearly made him laugh.
Among all that largely useless information, Marshall detected an overwhelming amount of homesickness.
That troublesome little sister probably wanted to come home.
She was simply too embarrassed to admit it directly, so she kept babbling about everything except the one thing she actually wanted.
Well, if she refused to say it, then Marshall wouldn’t mention it either.
He could play this game all day.
Transforming into the world’s most oblivious boy, Marshall offered a few distracted responses before claiming he needed to conduct an experiment and leaving Lisanna hanging.
Now that he had established a proper signal station, everyone could message her whenever they liked.
She certainly wasn’t short of people to talk to.
More importantly, Marshall’s experiment really had achieved a breakthrough.
Through months of diligent practice, his progress had reached:
[Light Magic LV3: 94.7%]
Only a tiny amount of experience remained.
Marshall had plenty of Inspiration to spare, and waiting would have accomplished nothing.
And so...
"Hah!"
A blinding flash erupted in an isolated mountain range.
A razor-thin beam of light instantly sliced through the peak before him.
It was a variation of Light Magic—Light Cutter.
Not long ago, Marshall had successfully advanced his Light Magic to Level Four.
The improvement was enormous.
First, he could now freely incorporate light’s extreme speed into his own body.
His Flight Magic had completely abandoned Wind Magic and been rebuilt around Light Magic, creating an entirely new high-speed movement spell.
Its defining characteristic was simple.
It was fast.
Absurdly fast!
His normal travel speed could reach approximately Mach Ten, though that remained well below his theoretical maximum.
While flying, Marshall’s body transformed into a streak of light, entering a state of partial elementalization that eliminated almost all physical resistance.
Among the high-speed spells he knew, the only one capable of competing was the Heavenly Body Magic spell Meteor, which could reach a maximum speed of approximately Mach Thirty.
Of course, Marshall knew that spell too.
If he combined the two, his speed alone would be enough to devastate the surrounding environment.
He had already moved beyond the limits of an ordinary human being.
Unfortunately, his physical constitution remained a bottleneck.
Although his Energy and Stamina had both surpassed ten thousand, flying too quickly still left his nervous system struggling to process the world around him.
But speed was far from the only benefit Light Magic had given him.
"Heat Vision!"
Two scorching beams erupted from Marshall’s eyes.
The enormous boulder before him was instantly cut apart, while the air itself warped beneath the intense heat.
Marshall merely turned his head, and the beams carved through an entire small mountain peak.
Cyclops’s optic blasts!
"I finally did it!"
Marshall threw both hands onto his hips as unprecedented pride swelled in his chest.
"From this day forward, I am Superman!"
"Hahahaha! Who can possibly stop me now?!"
The feeling was incredible!
After Light Magic reached Level Four, Marshall had used Information Magic to manipulate the wavelength and frequency of light through a complicated magical array.
At last, he had successfully developed his "original" spell—Radiant Eyes.
Admittedly, it was still an imitation.
He currently had to form the magic circles directly in front of his eyes whenever he cast it.
However, Marshall believed that once he studied eye-based magic more thoroughly, he could inscribe the spell structure directly into his eyes and achieve true, effortless heat vision.
The spell consumed an enormous amount of magic power.
Its model was excessively complicated.
Its casting time was too long.
Its destructive output was difficult to control.
But none of that mattered.
It looked so cooool!
That alone made it worthwhile!
Marshall stared at the glowing sword of light in his hand, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.
He almost wanted to find someone and test his new abilities immediately.
Perhaps he could seek out Guild Master Jura later and discuss the profound mysteries of magic with him.
Marshall believed that if he continued developing Light Magic in this direction, he might genuinely reach the inhuman heights occupied by those old monsters.
A magical version of Superman?
Who could possibly compete with that?
Makarov?
Hmph!
He was merely one of the Ten Wizard Saints.
Nothing to fear from him!
Marshall’s magic power had already risen above sixty thousand units, and he could vaguely sense the next major threshold—One hundred thousand.
That was likely the dividing line between ordinary S-Class Mages and those who stood at the level of the Ten Wizard Saints.
Every true Wizard Saint probably possessed at least one hundred thousand units of magic power.
Makarov’s rank among them was likely quite high, though even now, Marshall still couldn’t accurately sense the full depth of the old man’s reserves.
All right.
Perhaps he was becoming slightly overconfident.
He should endure for a little longer.
After several more years of steady training, once he finally reached adulthood, he ought to become genuinely invincible.
Since he couldn’t quite be Superman yet, he would settle for playing Homelander for now.
His terminal suddenly rang.
"Cana? What’s wrong?"
"Marshall, it’s almost the end of the year again..."
"Uh-huh. And?"
"This year’s S-Class Promotion Trial..."
Cana hesitated.
"Do you think I can defeat Mystogan?"
"This again?"
Marshall rubbed his chin and raised one hand.
"How about I beat Mystogan till he’s unconscious before the trial begins?"
"Stop joking! I’m being serious!"
"Come on, Cana. Have some confidence in yourself."
Marshall smiled encouragingly.
"You’re already stronger than almost everyone else, aren’t you?"
"Mystogan’s only particularly troublesome ability is that hypnosis array."
"And I already made you a magical device that can temporarily seal your soul and protect you from Mental Magic."
"Trust yourself."
"You can definitely beat him."
Cana’s uncertainty vanished.
"All right!"
"If Marshall believes in me, then this year, I’m definitely becoming S-Class!"
"Good luck, Cana!"
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