Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master

Chapter 82.2



The first to react to Isabelle’s cold command of “Attack” were not the knights but the dark sorcerers.

To be precise, they moved just before Isabelle uttered the word.

[Curse of Corrosion!]

[Chains of Agony!]

Without needing to cast, they activated their magic with incantations alone.

Vwooom!

The dark sorcerers wielded an array of magical tools—staffs, orbs, and talismans—each glowing with intricate runes and sinister magic circles. It seemed they had prepared these spells in advance through memorization.

Zap! Crackle! Zing!

Deadly black magic attacks shot toward the encircled knights, each one potent enough to pose a severe threat even to high-ranking knights.

But—

“??”
“?!”

The magic attacks dissipated just before reaching the knights.

Pop!

Pwoosh!

The spells collided with an invisible barrier and exploded harmlessly without inflicting any damage.

Shing—

Swoosh!

Thud!

Before the dark sorcerers could comprehend what had happened, the knights counterattacked, overwhelming them in an instant.

In less than a second, all the dark sorcerers in the room, except for Isaac and Haran, were decapitated.

It had taken less than three seconds from Isabelle’s command for the outcome to be decided.

Sching, sching, sching.

The knights drew their swords, pointing them at the remaining intruders. 

The magic stones embedded in their pauldrons glowed faintly.

“Are those magical artifacts crafted by Arad?”

Isaac glared forward, his glowing green eyes fixated on the embedded stones, using Haran’s corpse as a shield. His gaze lingered on Sun’s large kite shield, where the magic stone embedded in it had dimmed completely.

“An artifact capable of blocking a 5th Circle attack spell… it’s akin to something from the Golden Age of Magic.”

None of those present bothered to answer Isaac’s question.

Zap!

Isaac, rather than waiting for a response, unleashed another spell aimed at the knights, not so much as an attack but to create an escape route.

However, the spell was effortlessly blocked by Sun’s shield once again.

Hooo…

Isabelle exhaled a puff of mana-laced smoke as she evaluated the dark sorcerers’ capabilities.

‘The spells they memorized just now were 5th Circle from Isaac and 4th and 3rd Circle from the others.’

Memorization involved pre-casting spells and storing them in magical tools like staffs or talismans. However, memorization was limited to spells two Circles below the caster’s rank.

‘Isaac hasn’t reached the 8th Circle. Is this the limit of a half-lich?’

Isabelle’s cold eyes analyzed the situation.

Currently, Isaac’s rank was 7th Circle, the same as hers. 

The slain dark sorcerers had been between the 5th and 6th Circles.

‘This failure will be a significant blow to the Devil’s Den.’

The loss of high-ranking dark sorcerers meant the Devil’s Den would likely cease its schemes against the Northern Grand Duchy for at least 20 years.

‘Now I can leave the North with some peace of mind.’

Isabelle smiled faintly as she looked at Haran.

“Let the dark sorcerer face judgment, and grant the Witch of the Bell her peaceful rest,” she said softly.

The knights raised their swords as though ready to strike at any moment.

“You would attack me? Really?” Isaac retreated further behind Haran’s mummified body.

“Even if you kill me, it’s pointless! This body is a chimera I created!”

“It’ll still deal a significant blow.”

“Haran’s corpse and this body are synchronized! Harm one, and the other suffers equally!”

Isaac’s desperation revealed that harming his vessel would indeed deal him severe damage.

“If Harlan’s corpse is freed, Isabelle, you won’t come out unscathed either!”

Hearing this, the knights’ swords wavered slightly.

“I’ve already told you—that would be the best outcome,” Isabelle retorted calmly.

“You wish for death? Truly?” Isaac sneered. “I’ve fought you for over 200 years, Isabelle. I know the Spring Grand Witch better than anyone.”

“Do you think I’m a fool like you, clinging to immortality?”

“Ha-ha-ha… Even if you don’t desire immortality, you wouldn’t want to die now. Don’t you want to see the North finally prosper and the Renslet family rise above it all?”

“……!”

Isabelle faltered for the first time, unable to reply.

“Where is the Northern Grand Duchess hiding?” Isaac pressed, discarding his mocking tone.

“Do you think I’d tell you?”

“She’s not here in the palace, is she? She hasn’t appeared even with victory in your grasp.”

Ignoring Isabelle’s reaction, Isaac continued, “As I thought… she’s at the Arad Factory.”

“Sir Balzac! Kill him!” Isabelle’s voice rang out sharply.

Shhhk!

Balzac’s cold blade pierced through Haran’s chest and into Isaac’s heart.

Thud. Thump.

Jingle… Jingle… Jingle…

Isaac and Haran’s bodies collapsed simultaneously, like puppets whose strings had been cut.

“Is it over?” Sun murmured to himself.

“For now.” Balzac, wiping his sword clean, gave a terse reply.

Haran’s corpse, now lifeless, could simply be cremated. As for Isaac’s chimera body, Balzac contemplated giving it to Arad, but decided against it due to the risk of curses. Both bodies would be incinerated.

“Ugh…! Guh…!”

At that moment, Isabelle began to convulse, her body trembling violently.

Balzac and Sun quickly moved to support her.

“Don’t mind me! Quickly, to the factory!” Isabelle gasped out, forcing herself to speak.

“I’ll go to the factory,” Balzac said firmly. “Sun, you stay here. Take care of the Spring Grand Witch.”

“No, both of you should go!” Isabelle used her remaining strength to shout.

“Don’t worry, Spring Grand Witch. We visited the factory earlier—it’s currently the safest place in the North,” Balzac reassured her.

“Exactly, Spring Grand Witch. Please rest and tend to your condition,” Sun added, backing up Balzac.

“…If it’s Arad…” Isabelle muttered, finally allowing her tense expression to soften.

“Haa… Haa… Then… take me to my mentor’s remains…” Isabelle wheezed, requesting weakly to be brought to her master’s resting place.

“Is there a way?” Sun asked, supporting her frail body.

Isabelle did not answer. Instead, she silently embraced her mentor’s remains and closed her eyes.

A heavy silence filled the room.

“I’ll head to the factory. Knights, follow me,” Balzac said, breaking the silence.

Balzac and Sun exchanged bittersweet glances as they respectfully bowed to the two legendary witches.

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