30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 176

"Turr, you monster in human form! A madman who lives by instinct, ignorant of a human's heart, like a reckless child! I regret it!! That I ever took a creature like you as my disciple...!"

"...Why is this suddenly coming to mind?"

Turr blinked.

Having a poor memory, he tended to quickly erase "useless" memories through magic. Emotions tied to memories, he judged, were unnecessary.

And yet, now—he found himself recalling a memory he was certain he had deleted. A memory from 400 years ago, the day he killed his master and became the Tower Master.

—And the master's dying words, which were more like a curse than a final will.

"Hmm, how strange..."

Turr scratched his cheek. This kind of occurrence was a first for him.

So, naturally—

"I must research this!"

He was delighted at the prospect of a new research subject. He decided to resume his studies on the brain.

As Turr lightly nodded to himself:

Step. Step.

"Is the strategy meeting over now?"

Two of his "toys" approached. The resurfaced memory now shoved aside, Turr greeted the approaching toys with a bright smile, eagerly anticipating what entertainment they might provide this time.

"You’re not going to foolishly rely on swords or spears again, are you? Sorry, but I’m tired of that. Try something different."

He would wait.

Turr spread his arms wide, inviting them to do their best.

His demeanor exuded mockery—not even treating them as enemies. They weren’t even pests in his eyes, merely weak and insignificant mice. For any knight, such words would have been unbearably humiliating, fueling their rage.

"-Oh, really? So, are you swearing you’ll wait until we’re ready?"

"...Huh?"

"Why, getting soft all of a sudden?"

"Ah, no, that’s not it..."

Despite the blatant insult, they remained calm, contrary to his expectations.

Turr was slightly taken aback but quickly recovered.

"Fine, go ahead! Do whatever you want!"

He granted permission with a nonchalant attitude. What could such feeble beings possibly achieve? His arrogance wasn’t unwarranted; he possessed the strength to justify it.

No matter what methods they used, he knew they couldn’t defeat him—the outcome was already decided.

Turr urged them to try anything, sincerely hoping they would amuse him.

"......" "......"

The two knights showed no visible reaction to his taunts.

Yet beneath the surface, their eyes burned with a fiery intensity. A heat that seemed ready to ignite at any moment—a rage so hot it melted the snow-covered plain, transforming the blizzard into a rainstorm.

Their rising body heat betrayed their fury.

"Let’s begin." "Understood."

They began their task.

Thunk!

Crunch!

...Huh?

Turr’s expression froze.

He couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

"Why—why are you fighting each other?"

Watching the two men suddenly exchange blows, Turr was dumbfounded.

The green-haired knight abruptly removed the blade from his spear and stabbed it into the wing joint of the larger knight. Meanwhile, the larger knight struck the center of the green-haired knight’s chest with a fierce blow.

'...Internal discord?'

No, that couldn’t be. That didn’t make sense.

Even the archmage, with over 400 years of experience, was momentarily at a loss.

And then—

Whoosh!

"!"

Turr felt something unfamiliar. No, something he hadn’t experienced since becoming an archmage.

A chill.

*****

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound of a giant drum echoed in Ihan’s ears, like the beating of his own heart. A strange yet intense flow surged through his body, amplifying his senses.

Gritting his teeth, Ihan felt the fierce, almost wild energy transmitted through his shoulder blade. The energy was tearing through him, threatening to shred his insides.

This was Aura.

Whoosh!

But not just any Aura—this was the Aura of a knight whose skill ranked among the best in the kingdom. Even Ihan, who rarely doubted his victory, couldn’t confidently claim he’d win against such a knight.

On top of that, it was Red Aura, a unique and alien force that left Ihan trembling uncontrollably.

He had to endure this insane energy, which seemed poised to destroy his body from within!

Crack!

On the other hand, Raq was enduring his own torment. Ihan’s condensed energy was ripping apart and forcibly reconstructing Raq’s body. The sensation was as excruciating as tearing apart muscles and rejoining bones.

Despite the unbearable pain, Raq endured with sheer willpower.

Though the torment lasted less than three minutes, it felt like three hours. They were enduring a forceful compression of their strength, like pulling out teeth one by one every second.

This was a trial of endurance.

The process they were attempting would usually take three to six months of careful practice. But to accelerate it, they had gambled their lives. Even if they survived, their lifespans would be shortened.

Yet they were prepared to risk it all.

And having risked everything, the two knights—

"...Never again. This insane stunt is not worth it." "...Agreed."

Pale-faced, they returned from the brink of death.

Had either of them made even the slightest mistake, they would have died. But they survived because they were exceptional knights—one with a body as strong as steel, the other unmatched in talent.

It was a gamble only they could pull off, and they succeeded.

"How long will this last?" "About 15 minutes." "...That’s short." "What about me?" "20 minutes?"

"..."

"Well, it’s your first time. I’ve done this before with my men, so I managed it."

"...Suddenly, I feel sorry for your subordinates."

Despite knowing their lifespans had been shortened, neither cared. They focused solely on the "present."

To them, Turr muttered—

"...You’re both insane."

To be called mad by a madman...

Turr stared at them in shock.

For the first time, the grinning lunatic showed a serious expression.

"At first, I couldn’t figure out your bizarre behavior, but now I understand! You’ve shared your strength—your time!"

Turr grasped the concept. As a mage, it was easy for him to understand.

For mages, having a master was crucial. When a master died, their magic—their lifetime of accumulated magical flow and experience—could be imprinted upon the disciple.

Sharing time and power, it was a step toward a higher realm.

Of course, the "minor drawback" was that the master would die after transferring their magic. Because of this, most mages avoided the practice, and if a disciple wanted their master’s power...

...they had to kill them with their own hands.

It was why Turr killed his master.

When denied the power he desired, the only solution was death.

But to think such a practice...

"...Was possible for knights too!"

Turr’s eyes sparkled with fascination, but the knights only looked at him with contempt.