Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage's Book-Chapter 26

"Wait, from within?"

Binaeril realized something crucial from his own words.

The Scholar's Minotaur wasn't a natural beast; it was an artificially created gargoyle.

These types of constructs usually had a core that powered them.

"Gargoyles typically have a core inside, right?"

Rike quickly understood Binaeril's implication.

"Yes, they do. It stores their commands and powers them. Why didn't I think of that?"

"So, we just need to destroy the core? But how?"

"First, we need to find where it is. Rike, can you see it?"

The core would be emitting stronger magic than the rest of the Minotaur. No one at Elfenbine was better at detecting magic than Rike.

"Yes… between the neck and the sternum, around the clavicles."

"Got it."

"And then what?"

It would be ideal if they could directly damage the core, but casting a spell that could do that was beyond their current abilities.

"We need to make a wound, somehow."

"Through that thick hide to reach the core? That's impossible."

"No, even a small wound would do. Leave the rest to me."

Binaeril remembered reading about stonemasons breaking rocks with small, precise blows.

Even weak spells could be combined to create the force needed to penetrate stone.

"Just make a wound on its chest. Please."

Sylvia saw the determination in Binaeril's eyes and nodded.

Despite their differences, it was clear that Binaeril was the most skilled among them.

The trapped Minotaur thrashed its arms, smashing nearby pillars in rage.

Sylvia darted around, delivering kicks to its body to keep it distracted.

"Here I go."

Binaeril's slashing spells had no effect on the Minotaur's hard exterior.

But for a simple wound, there was a more efficient method.

"If a line won't work, try a point."

Binaeril chanted.

"Piercing arrow of magic."

A simple 1st-tier piercing spell. But as Professor Pierre Blancheau had shown, the strength of a spell depended on the caster.

Binaeril honed his imagination, focusing it to a single point.

A vibrating arrow of magic formed at his fingertips.

Sylvia noticed Binaeril preparing and jumped onto the Minotaur's head, drawing its attention.

The Minotaur spread its arms wide to grab Sylvia.

"Now!"

Binaeril's arrow shot towards the Minotaur's neck, striking with precision.

It looked less like an arrow and more like a fine thread.

"Graaaah!"

The Minotaur roared in pain.

As the dust settled, the wound on its chest became visible.

"Damn!"

Sylvia cursed in frustration.

The gargoyle's core was still not exposed.

"Can you do it again?"

Binaeril was already preparing another spell.

"What are you doing?"

This spell was similar to the one he used in the tournament finals—a simple water projectile.

Binaeril aimed at the Minotaur's wound, drenching it.

Without pausing, he cast another spell.

His head spun slightly from the rapid succession of spells, but he couldn't stop now.

Lowering his stance, Binaeril leapt into the Minotaur's grasp.

Both girls screamed at the dangerous move.

The Minotaur swung its right hand at Binaeril.

"Eden!"

A stone wall sprang up to block the attack.

With momentum, Binaeril reached the wound, plunging his hand into the soaked wound.

"Let this chill freeze all things!"

The water-filled wound quickly froze and expanded.

'Touch it!'

The ice spread from Binaeril's hand into the Minotaur's body, finally reaching the core.

Binaeril could feel it now, the core.

Here, this is the core!

"Please shatter!"

Binaeril's magic pierced the tough exterior and finally struck the core.

"Graaaaah! Grah… gra…"

The Minotaur's movements slowed as it tried to crush the human on its chest.

Slowly, bit by bit, it ceased moving.

The Minotaur's red glow faded as Binaeril shattered the core.

The core's collapse created a suction, like a draining whirlpool.

The gargoyle's stone body and the surrounding ground were drawn into the vortex, including the exhausted Binaeril.

Rike and Sylvia, standing a bit further away, couldn't escape either.

The black hole swallowed the three mages and the entire dome structure, finally stopping its expansion.

Unbeknownst to the three, this was the entrance to the third test.

And within that void, Binaeril, Rike, and Sylvia each faced their unresolved conflicts.

In the Albrecht Royal Palace, a woman with long hair down to her shoulders sat at a desk.

This office, originally the Emperor's, now showed few signs of his presence, as most of his belongings had been removed by the acting regent, the first princess.

A visitor entered, interrupting her paperwork.

"Come in."

A man, old enough to be nearing his twilight years, bowed respectfully. His thin frame and tied-back hair, peppered with gray, showed the signs of a stressful life.

Regent Charlotte raised her hand in a brief greeting.

He was Hans Brante, the court physician, and one of the few people she trusted in the court.

"Lord Brante, how is my father's condition?"

"It's not good. You should start preparing."

Charlotte rubbed her tired eyes and sighed.

Years of heavy work had taken a toll on her skin and hair.

"Is there no chance of recovery?"

Lord Brante shook his head solemnly.

Charlotte Albrecht's concern was not just as a daughter but as the regent of an empire without a clear successor.

The noble wolves in the capital would not let her and her sister rest after the Emperor's passing.

"Has there been any word from Elfenbine?"

Brante, a long-time close aide to the Emperor, now also served as Charlotte's deputy.

"I've sent messages to Dean Yulio. But are you sure it's wise to recall the youngest princess?"

"She can't keep running away forever. At least she should attend our father's funeral."

The Emperor's health was not the only issue.

Monsters were increasingly rampant in the eastern and northeastern parts of the empire.

Public opinion about the royal family was deteriorating, and the palace was filled with nobles eyeing the throne.

The regent was walking a tightrope.

"I hope my sister brings good news."

Sending Frederike to Elfenbine was to improve relations with the Mage Tower as well as for her safety.

If she returned with powerful mages, it might help with the monster problem.

The central nobles, who opposed the Mage Tower, would resist, but Charlotte had to make a decision.

"Very well. You may leave."

Lord Brante bowed and left.

Charlotte sighed, placing her last hopes on her sister.

Pulled into the black hole, Binaeril felt conflicting emotions.

He stood face-to-face with someone he dreaded meeting yet knew he had to confront someday.

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"Nunair Dalheim."

The young man before Binaeril looked just like him.

Silvery hair with a mystical glow and a cold, resolute gaze.

The only difference was that he was taller and more muscular than Binaeril.

He held a ceremonial sword, Starfall, in both hands, its blade buried in the ground.

Binaeril had never seen the sword but knew what it was.

His brother gave him a cold stare.

"Calling your brother's name so casually. How disrespectful, little brother."

Seeing him brought back the feverish rage Binaeril had endured all his life.

It was a festering tumor of emotions—anger, betrayal, hatred, and the urge to question the past.

But Binaeril decided not to ask any questions.

No words were needed between them.

Binaeril knew Nunair Dalheim couldn't be at Elfenbine.

This was an illusion, the final trial of the Scholar Exam.

Despite his resolve, one question slipped out against his will.

A question he would surely regret.

"Are you here to kill me again?"

Nunair Dalheim answered with a cold smirk.