Genius 4.2

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Chapter 4.2. The Witch

Meanwhile, a murmured exclamation escapes Hermes.

Though he's astonished by the vast difference in caliber, what truly shocks him isn't that.

"What kind of magic is she using...!?"

Now, let me explain one aspect of lineage magic.

Bloodline Magic typically manifests only one ability per person.

So, each person's magic tends to lean towards one specific attribute.

Of course, there are exceptions. 

For instance, there's no restriction on the number of general-purpose magics anyone can handle. 

The men were likely using those, and with them, it was impossible to summon the diverse array of spells she was casting.

However, there's a significant contradiction here.

"The power... it's too strong...!"

Indeed, her magic surpasses the realm of general-purpose magic by far. In fact, it exhibits performance approaching that of even mediocre lineage magic.

It's not just Hermes who's astonished by this sight. Any noble with a basic understanding of lineage magic would likely find it incredulous.

What's unfolding before them is an embodiment of such injustice. Hermes gazes upon it— but soon, that ceases to concern him.

Because.

"...Incredible."

He was mesmerized. The one who navigates the battlefield with unmatched skill, who comprehends magic more deeply than anyone else, and who wields magic with unparalleled freedom.

That is precisely the great magician Hermes admired. The embodiment of his childhood dream and longing stood before him.

"...That hair, that demeanor, and above all, those ridiculous spells... could it be...!?"

Eventually, one of the men realizes something and wears an expression of despair.

"You guys, retreat! She's the Sky Witch, Rose, a walking disaster! Before any more damage occurs—"

"It's too late, fools."

She won't let them escape.

As if declaring it, the woman named Rose encloses the entire area with walls of light, trapping all the men without exception.

"You guys, for a bunch of lowlifes. You're surprisingly strong. So, as a token of appreciation— I'll show you my magic."

Then, she raises her left hand to the sky, takes a deep breath, and sings loudly.

"'The eyes that oversee all under the heavens, their gaze akin to a spring, their presence an offering. Know that my position is paramount'."

With a fearless smile, she brings her hand down, and proclaims loudly:

"Bloodline Magic— [Hlidskjalf]!"

Immediately.

Countless beams of light rain down from the sky, seeming to strike everything in sight.

Among her arsenal of magic, this particular spell stands out for its extraordinary power, fitting to be called a trump card. Dust rises all at once, amid which the men's screams echo.

Eventually, the screams cease, and beyond the settling dust.

"I won't kill you. Who would want to dirty my hands with trash?"

There were the collapsed men, and in their midst, the graceful figure of the woman remained.

"...Now then."

Having confirmed their neutralization, she walks over to Hermes and stops before him.

Seeing her up close again, she seems even younger than he imagined. If judged by appearance alone, she might be around 20 years old.

She has large eyes with a hint of girlishness and a beautifully sculpted nose. A beauty rarely seen even in the capital.

She wears a chic black dress that contrasts vividly with her clear skin and the long limbs extending from it, bathed in the sunset's glow.

Combined with her overwhelming magical abilities from earlier, she gives off an impression of being somewhat detached. Meeting Hermes' gaze, she leans in.

"...You're amazing!"

Her eyes now gleam like those of a child, and she approaches him with excitement.

"Even though I got caught off guard, how did you detect magic from so far away that even I didn't notice!?"

The stark contrast from earlier, coupled with her flushed cheeks from excitement, adds a hint of cuteness to her already beautiful face as she draws closer.

Caught up in nerves and agitation, Hermes momentarily forgets his pain and fatigue.

"And at your age! You're really amazing; you might be the most talented person I've ever seen compared to me."

Ignoring him, she smiles warmly and adds:

"I'm interested now, cute little magician boy. My name's Rose, but what's yours?"

Hermes von Frembleed, age 10.

At this moment, as a 7-year-old boy who had reached rock bottom experienced a pivotal turning point. At age 10, upon meeting the Sky Witch, Rose, he was about to undergo another turning point—this time, the complete opposite of the first.