Infinite Mage - Remake

Amy gritted her teeth as she sprinted down the mountain path. Her mind had cleared enough to think, but her magic still refused to respond.

I can’t slow down. The battle isn’t over yet.

Freeman had been dealt with, but one formidable enemy remained—Falcoa.

"Just… a little more!"

As soon as her destination came into view, Amy pushed herself even harder. When she finally crested the hill, her eyes widened at the unexpected sight before her.

Rian, battered and barely standing, was locking Falcoa in a desperate hold from behind.

But what truly shocked Amy was Tess—charging at full speed, her sword aimed straight at Falcoa’s heart.

Tess’s eyes burned with unrelenting fury. At this rate, her blade would pierce not just Falcoa, but Rian as well. Yet neither of them hesitated, as if they had already made a silent pact.

A moment later, Tess’s saber plunged deep into Falcoa’s chest.

Rian’s pupils dilated. His shoulders jerked violently as the force of the strike reverberated through him.

Then, blood gushed from his mouth.

20 Minutes Before Amy’s Arrival

Falcoa’s attacks were a brutal spectacle—less refined technique, more primal savagery.

Rian had no room to strategize. Merely enduring the relentless onslaught had drained him to his limit.

Then Falcoa found an opening—a swift slash across Rian’s thigh.

"Rian!" Tess’s voice rang out in alarm.

Though Rian had held his ground better than expected, the injury to his leg sapped half his remaining strength.

Tess, enraged by her friend’s pain, lunged forward—but Falcoa lived up to his title as the Battlefield Demon.

Wounds meant nothing to him. So long as he drew breath, his focus remained solely on attack.

Ironically, Tess’s own assault faltered. The old adage proved true yet again—the best defense is a relentless offense.

As the fight dragged on, Rian and Tess accumulated more wounds. They avoided fatal blows, but after ten minutes, their bodies were as tattered as their clothes, drenched in blood like rags in a downpour.

"Hahaha! Is this the end? First good fight I’ve had in years."

Ignoring Falcoa’s taunt, Tess turned to Rian, who was gasping for air.

"Rian… are you okay?"

"Yeah… I can hold on. You?"

Tess’s vision blurred with unshed tears. Endure? How could he even speak? Falcoa’s blade had carved its mark across every inch of his body.

Never in her life had she felt such fury. How dare this monster hurt Rian?

Her grip on her saber tightened. Even if it cost her life, she would end Falcoa here.

"YAAAAAH!"

Tess charged, saber drawn back in the signature Elsaine Family stance.

But sheer skill couldn’t bridge the gap in power.

Tess was fast—but Falcoa was faster.

He retreated effortlessly, then suddenly reversed momentum, closing the distance in an instant. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked her blade aside.

"Hrk—!"

A brutal knee slammed into Tess’s ribs, crushing the air from her lungs.

"Not bad. But you’re still too green."

Falcoa’s longsword descended toward her throat.

Time seemed to slow. Tess saw the deadly arc clearly—yet her body wouldn’t move.

I’m sorry, Rian… I wanted to at least repay my debt to you.

Then—

"RAAAAAGH!"

Rian barreled into Falcoa like a raging bull.

"Guh—!"

Falcoa’s feet left the ground—but even midair, he twisted with terrifying agility, landing upright. His hand snapped to Rian’s neck, yanking him forward into a crushing knee strike.

"GACK—!"

The impact tore through Rian’s gut, threatening to rupture his spine.

Is this the strength of a demon who thrived in war? There seemed no way to overpower him.

"Annoying brat. Don’t worry—I’ll take good care of your woman."

Rian’s fading consciousness sharpened.

Tess was more than a comrade—she was a friend he respected, a warrior he admired.

"A piece of trash like you…"

With a roar, Rian seized Falcoa’s collar and yanked—as if burning his very soul for strength.

"—will NEVER lay a hand on my friend!"

"Wha—?!"

Falcoa staggered, bewildered. Rian’s strength had been manageable before—so where was this sudden power coming from?

Before he could react, Rian spun behind him, locking his arms in a crushing grapple. Falcoa’s sword arm was pinned uselessly.

"You little—!"

Falcoa flexed with monstrous force, muscles straining—but Rian’s grip didn’t budge.

"GRAAAH!"

His body screamed in protest, tendons threatening to snap—yet he held on.

"Tch! Let GO, you bastard!"

Falcoa thrashed like a wild beast, but Rian’s body remained immovable—as if his mind had commanded his flesh to turn to stone.

"Tess! NOW!"

"B-But—!"

Tess understood. This was their only chance.

Yet her hand trembled. Stab through Rian? Even if it meant killing Falcoa, could she do it?

"HURRY! I CAN’T HOLD HIM FOREVER!"

Rian’s body was breaking. Every second strained him beyond human limits. If Falcoa broke free now, Rian would be left a shattered wreck.

"TESS! DO IT!"

"YAAAAAH!"

Tess charged, tears streaming—just as Amy arrived.

"TESS! NO—!"

As soon as Amy’s cry rang out, Tess’s sword pierced Falcoa’s heart. Rian’s eyes widened in shock, and blood spilled from her lips.

Tess’s swordsmanship was flawless. The blade had cleanly penetrated Falcoa’s heart—his death was inevitable.

Falcoa felt the cold grip of death closing in. Strangely, he wasn’t afraid. To him, death was perhaps the closest thing to pleasure in this wretched world.

“Marsha.”

Surprisingly, the last word to escape Falcoa’s lips was his leader’s name. A faint smile curled at the edges of his mouth, as if he were glimpsing something like a kaleidoscope of memories.

‘Take me to the battlefield.’

Tess yanked her sword free, and Falcoa’s body crumpled backward. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, and Rian collapsed to her knees, clutching her chest in pain.

“Rian! Are you okay?”

Amy rushed to her side in a panic. Rian managed a weak smile as she looked up at her.

“Hey, Amy. Did we take care of everything?”

“Forget that! Where are you hurt? Tess! How could you stab through both of them?!”

Amy’s voice trembled with anger as she glared at Tess. But Tess merely flicked the blood off her blade with practiced ease before flashing a playful grin.

“Hah, what are you talking about? Who do you take me for? I know how to control my blade. Only Falcoa got stabbed. Rian’s fine.”

Amy’s expression twisted in disbelief.

“Excuse me… Rian’s chest is bleeding!”

“What?!”

Tess’s eyes snapped wide open as she looked at Rian. Sure enough, a thin trickle of blood seeped from her chest.

“Rian! Rian! Stay with me! Wake up!”

Tess, now pale-faced, shook Rian desperately. Rian, who had briefly blacked out, groaned and swatted her hands away before forcing herself up.

“Quit fussing. It’s just a scratch.”

“I’m sorry, Rian. I wasn’t careful enough…”

“Don’t say that. Even if you’d held back, Falcoa wouldn’t have gone down. We’d both be in trouble. You did the right thing.”

Rian truly believed that. Hesitation in battle could be fatal. Tess had acted decisively, and that was what mattered.

“Ugh! This little wound is nothing. Let’s move. I’m worried about Shirone.”

Even as they spoke, violent explosions and eerie sounds echoed from inside the building. Shirone was clearly locked in combat with the enemy leader. Whatever was happening in there was far more dangerous than their fight with Falcoa.

BOOM!

At that moment, the building’s wall shattered, and Shirone came flying out.

“Shirone!”

Shirone activated Teleportation just before hitting the ground, reappearing ten meters back. As the photonized state faded, he skidded across the dirt, barely regaining his footing.

“Shirone, are you okay?!”

“Stay back!”

Shirone’s sharp command froze them in place. His usual calm demeanor was gone—replaced by urgency.

“It’s not over yet. His sound magic is dangerous at close range.”

Marsha’s Sonar allowed both precision strikes and wide-area attacks. If his exhausted friends got caught in the crossfire, they’d be torn apart.

“Impressive. You lasted longer than I expected.”

Marsha stepped through the wreckage, smirking—until his gaze landed on Falcoa’s corpse.

Falcoa was dead.

Though an eccentric man, he had been a comrade. A warrior who had carved his name across the continent, now lying in a pool of his own blood.

‘No regrets, Falcoa.’

Marsha knew without asking. Falcoa would’ve preferred a blade in his heart over rotting away from his drug addiction.

But sentimentality ended there.

A student taking down Falcoa was surprising, but not impossible—not when the man had been drowning in narcotics for five years.

Marsha’s focus returned to Shirone.

From the moment Shirone breached the first barrier, Marsha had sensed his potential. Now, facing him directly, he could see the meticulous balance in his magic.

Teleportation was masterful. The Photon Cannon packed devastating force.

Laser was perfect for siege combat, and while Berserk had defensive timing issues, its offensive conversion was deadly.

A refined system, honed through relentless evolution.

But what intrigued Marsha most?

This was Shirone’s own magic—unlike anything else in the world.

‘The Unlocker’s magic. Fascinating. I want it.’

While Marsha mused, Shirone analyzed the battlefield.

The open terrain removed the disadvantages he’d faced indoors. No hostages meant no restraints—he could fight at full power.

“It ends now. I won’t forgive you.”

Marsha chuckled. “Oh, Shirone… you’ll forgive me.”

“On what grounds? Your actions are monstrous.”

“Well, actually…”

Marsha stuck out his tongue playfully.

“It was all a lie!”

Shirone and the others stared blankly. Then Marsha raised his voice toward the building.

“Yuna! You can come out now!”

His amplified voice boomed across the area. Moments later, the door creaked open, and a young girl stepped out.

“No way… That’s Yuna?”

“Yep, that’s her. Safe and sound, as you can see. So, Shirone? Feeling relieved?”

Shirone remained silent. Even his sharp mind couldn’t decipher Marsha’s game.

“Still don’t get it? It’s like when an older sister pranks her little brother! Everything I said was fake. So forgive me, okay?”

Yuna bowed apologetically.

“Marsha did nothing wrong. She… saved me.”

Rian groaned in frustration.

“What the hell is happening? Someone explain it to me, because I’m lost.”

Neither Amy nor Tess answered.

This had to be a taunt—but why? What was Marsha’s goal?

Shirone’s thoughts raced.

This wasn’t just a joke. The Parrot Mercenaries were decimated. Falcoa was dead. None of this could be dismissed as a prank.

“If it’s true… let Yuna go.”

Rescuing Jess’s sister was the priority. But Marsha shook his head with a mocking grin.

“Yuna, go back inside. I’ll return you to your brother… later.”

Yuna obediently retreated into the building.

Shirone’s patience snapped. What was Marsha playing at?

There was no logic, no purpose—just chaos, like a child smashing toys.

“What is this? What do you want?”

“Hah, why so serious? Yuna’s fine. Or did you want to play the hero and ‘save’ her yourself?”

“That’s not—”

“Now you see? I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the villain here, Shirone. You forced my hand. So I won’t give Yuna to you.”

Shirone’s Spirit Zone flared. The air sharpened as his killing intent locked onto Marsha.

“Enough! I won’t fall for your mind games.”

But internally, Shirone wavered. Marsha had stripped away his reason to fight—yet the bloodlust remained.

‘Stay calm. His hostility is real. That’s reason enough.’

If this was a trap, he couldn’t afford hesitation. The hostages were safe—now was the time to end this.

But then, Marsha dropped his Spirit Zone. He spread his arms wide, utterly defenseless.

“Go ahead. Kill me.”

Shirone’s blood ran cold.

He recognized those words—the same incantation his adoptive father had drilled into him with every beating.

Marsha wasn’t bluffing.

He genuinely wanted Shirone to kill him.

‘Who are you, Marsha?’

Magic Association Investigation Room

Sakiri, a 5th-class investigator, wiped sweat from her brow. Her sleeves were rolled up, her shirt half-unbuttoned.

Exhaustion lined her face—but her grip on the iron club was unshaken.

“Break’s over. Let’s continue.”

“Stop… please…”

Lucas, the former vice-captain of the Parrot Thieves, groaned on the floor.

Captured after the Magic Association raid, his legs had been severed by Siana’s Absolute Zero.

Hours of torture had reduced him to a broken mess.

Without his Schema, he’d have died long ago.

“Last chance. Talk.”

Sakiri swung the club. Lucas screamed as it connected, rolling weakly across the floor.

“I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! Just stop!”

“Hmph. Should’ve said so earlier.”

She tossed the club aside with a clatter.

“Now sit.”

She dragged Lucas to a chair by his hair.

“Before I take your arms too.”

Lucas barely managed to sit.

Sakiri flipped through case files, her expression darkening.

“You know what I hate most? Not killers. Not thieves. Escaped prisoners. You think you can just walk out of prison?”

Lucas swallowed hard.

“Your life is over. You’ll never see daylight again.”

Sakiri wasn’t threatening—she was stating facts.

“Now. Let’s talk about Marsha. Tell me everything.”

That was the only intel she needed.

Clay Marsha—a Class-A criminal, yet her records were a mess. Fire magic? Ice magic? Contradictory reports made tracking her impossible.

So Sakiri changed tactics.

Forget where Marsha was.

She needed to know who Marsha truly was.