I Was Mistaken as a Genius Mage in a Game

‘……Equal.’

Rex, his entire body covered in blood, observed the standoff between the Grand Lord and the boy and thought so.

Despite the overwhelming presence of the Grand Lord, a monstrous being that could make one's legs tremble and cold sweat form on their back simply by descending onto the battlefield, the white-haired boy was holding his ground in a tense standoff.

“You are at least a 7th-circle mage. Considering you've reached the 7th circle at such a young age, you'll reach the 9th soon enough.”

“Well, since you already seem to know, there's no need to hide it.”

Rex hadn’t caught every word due to the battle, but the fragmented sentences were enough to grasp the situation.

‘The boy looks no older than sixteen or seventeen. And yet, he’s already at the 7th circle….’

Having lived his entire life swinging an axe as a warrior, Rex could maintain his composure and keep thinking even in the midst of an adrenaline-fueled battle.

The boy he had unknowingly brought onto a carriage heading for the capital was a mage with the greatest talent on the continent.

And the Grand Lord had personally come here, taking on all the risks, just to eliminate that white-haired genius mage, the youngest ever to reach the 7th circle.

Once those two facts settled in his mind, the next command he needed to issue naturally followed.

“…All units! Change the objective from ‘survival’ to ‘protecting the boy’! That boy must not die here! No matter what happens, we must escort him to the capital!”

The life of that boy was worth more than his own and the lives of all his subordinates. It did not take long to reach that conclusion.

On the battlefield, saying that all lives were equal was meaningless nonsense. One 7th-circle mage’s spell could incinerate countless mutants and save just as many lives.

Lives did not hold equal value on the battlefield. Rex, who had lived his entire life as a warrior, knew that all too well.

If someone had to die here, it would not be the boy—it would be them.

“Damn it, we can barely take care of ourselves…! Where’s the mage?!”

“Orders are to protect the mage! Form up in Formation Three around him!”

“Arrow barrage from the right! Raise your shields! If even one grazes you, consider yourself dead!”

At that moment, arrows flying from the forest ignited with flames from the burning branches and leaves, causing their trajectories to twist unpredictably.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The barrage of magically enhanced arrows pounded against the soldiers’ massive shields.

Ordinarily, such arrows would have pierced straight through and impaled their bodies. However, due to the flames burning the feathers, their trajectories were disrupted, reducing their effectiveness.

“Hm….”

The Grand Lord, who had been locked in a standoff with the white-haired mage, glanced at the soldiers rushing forward to protect the boy with a rather irritated expression.

‘An unknown mage… I have no idea what level he is or what magic he wields….’

The Grand Lord did not move.

He did not want to show any openings to the 7th-circle mage—perhaps even stronger—standing before him.

He merely spared a sidelong glance at the soldiers charging toward him.

Boom!

The moment his gaze shifted, massive burning trees began toppling in all directions.

At the same time, the ground shook violently, and flaming leaves rained down upon the battlefield.

“As ordered.”

A colossal mutant, created using the body of a six-meter-tall orc barbarian, emerged, its massive axe wreathed in flames.

The mutant stomped forward, swinging its massive axe toward the soldiers.

Clang!

Rex’s axe collided with it, sending up a shower of sparks. Despite the vast difference in size, his relentless training allowed him to barely block the attack.

“Go! Protect the mage!”

The soldiers, momentarily frozen by the monster’s sudden appearance, resumed their advance.

“Tsk.”

The Grand Lord clicked his tongue and subtly lifted his finger, pointing toward the soldiers rushing toward the boy.

Dark energy gathered at his fingertips, pulsating madly as if it would explode at any moment.

The boy’s blue eyes.

He did not miss the moment the Grand Lord’s attention shifted to the soldiers.

A massive surge of electricity coursed through his arms and legs. His white hair stood on end, and an ominous aura surrounded him as if a lightning strike were about to descend at any moment.

‘…He’s aiming for an opening to attack.’

Maltiel noticed the mage preparing to release an enormous surge of power and inwardly sneered.

‘Got you.’

Demons were naturally cunning and loved deceiving their opponents.

Grand Lord Maltiel didn’t need a gesture—he could have erased the incoming soldiers from existence without so much as a glance.

Yet, he deliberately directed his gaze and finger toward the infantry.

It was a signal to the boy that now was the perfect moment to attack.

‘The moment you strike, your head will fly.’

Maltiel always employed this kind of tactic.

Feigning an opening, pretending to be vulnerable, acting as if he was in danger—his opponents always struck him with their strongest attacks in such moments.

And the more desperate their attacks, the more devastating the counter.

‘Come…!’

A massive flash erupted from the boy’s fingertips, sending an overwhelming surge of lightning outward. Just looking at it sent chills down one’s spine.

“Convert.”

The demon’s blood-red eyes and blackened hand turned toward the boy.

This was the moment Maltiel had been waiting for. The gathered energy at his fingertips condensed into a single point and shot straight toward the boy’s heart, who was momentarily fixed in place while unleashing his spell.

A pitch-black line cut through the battlefield, piercing through trees, rocks, the ground, and even the bodies of mutants, leaving gaping holes in its wake.

It was as if a god had taken a black quill and drawn a long line across the world.

“It’s over.”

The soldiers rushing toward the boy were filled with despair.

The only one who could hold back the Grand Lord on this battlefield was that white-haired boy.

If he was lost, they were all dead.

Just as hopelessness and sorrow threatened to settle over them…

“Damn, I really almost died this time.”

A sharp, composed voice, laced with an exasperated curse, echoed from above them.

“…Ha!”

The boy was not dead. Realizing this, the Grand Lord unintentionally let out a gasp of admiration.

The boy had never intended to attack in the first place.

Somehow, he had known from the beginning that the Grand Lord's apparent opening was a feint.

By releasing a massive surge of electricity beneath his own feet instead of at the Grand Lord, the boy had propelled himself high into the sky. Seeing this, the Grand Lord’s sinister face twisted into a grin.

‘He figured it out! He knew I was deliberately showing an opening! So he only pretended to attack while actually making his escape into the sky.’

The frustration of having his trick seen through and the admiration for the boy’s cold judgment struck the Grand Lord at once.

Somehow, the boy seemed to anticipate every move Maltiel would make, as if he had studied them beforehand.

‘He’s keeping his distance and toying with me. He only needs to buy time until ‘that one’ arrives!’

The Grand Lord locked eyes with the boy’s unwavering, icy blue gaze and became certain.

‘This boy isn’t just magically talented. He understands battlefield flow, excels at deception, and sees through tactics! His ability to analyze and his composure in extreme situations…’

Spreading his wings wide, the Grand Lord surged toward the boy.

‘This isn’t just the seed of a monster. He must die here!’

Up until now, his own survival had always been his top priority.

If he died, the demons under his command would become useless, creating a massive hole in the demon army.

But the boy’s exceptional judgment and composure tipped the scales in the Grand Lord’s mind.

He determined that killing the boy now, even at the cost of his own safety, was the greater benefit for the demon army in the long run.

He was willing to sacrifice the 2,000 demons under his command and the 300,000 mutants they controlled if it meant eliminating this boy.

“Ogiar de Estella!”

A booming orcish voice reached the ears of the bullet-speeding Grand Lord.

A massive five-meter-tall orc swung a colossal axe at the Grand Lord as he charged toward the boy.

“Protect him!”

The orc hero, Rex, missing one arm and bearing a deep wound in his abdomen, roared beneath the moonlight, his eyes locked onto the Grand Lord and the boy.

At Rex’s feet lay the tattered remains of a five-meter-tall orc mutant, carved into countless pieces.

His cry spurred the soldiers into action, scrambling to pick up scattered weapons and hurl them toward the Grand Lord’s flight path.

“Tsk.”

Most of the weapons bounced harmlessly off the Grand Lord’s impenetrable skin.

However, the massive axe Rex threw was enough to force the Grand Lord to twist his body mid-air to evade it.

A fleeting opening emerged.

At that moment, the boy’s blue eyes gleamed, and another surge of electricity built up in his hands.

‘…Damn monster!’

Against Grand Lord Maltiel, openings had to be approached with caution. Any weakness he displayed was likely a deception meant to lure his opponents into lowering their guard.

But this time, the opening was real.

So focused was Maltiel on killing the boy that his field of vision had narrowed.

He had become too excited by the limitless potential the boy had displayed.

The rare thrill of combat had dulled his awareness, and he had failed to anticipate Rex’s axe attack.

Though he had barely managed to react, his balance was off, and he had no defensive spells prepared.

“You like counters, don’t you?”

The boy’s arrogant voice echoed beneath the cloudless sky.

“…Impressive!”

The Grand Lord, driven by both a duty to eliminate the boy and the excitement of facing a worthy opponent, charged at full force.

‘He must die.’

‘This ends with this strike.’

‘There’s not much time left before ‘that one’ arrives.’

These thoughts drove him forward.

Though he did not let out a battle cry, the desperation within his attack was the same as that of the countless humans he had slain before.

And desperate attacks, when countered, carried the heaviest consequences.

“Release.”

A massive sphere of lightning compressed into a single point in the boy’s hand.

The concentrated energy, amounting to millions of volts, trembled violently, ready to explode at any moment. The boy casually flicked the sphere forward, aiming straight for the demon’s chest as he closed the distance.

For an instant, the night sky was set ablaze with radiant light.

A sudden, colossal bolt of lightning struck from the clear sky. Blinding flashes erupted in all directions.

The boy had funneled all his remaining magic into that single point.

In the game, a typical NPC mage’s magic stat ranged from 8 to 9. Even named mages rarely exceeded 13 to 14.

But the boy’s magic stat was nearing 20.

He had sacrificed endurance, strength, agility, and luck to attain this unnatural talent.

And now, the crystallized product of three days’ worth of stored, unspent magic was concentrated into a single dazzling point before his fingertips.

Even a Grand Lord would be reduced to pure white ash if hit directly.

…If hit directly.

The boy’s attack only managed to scorch the Grand Lord’s right upper body and one of his wings.

Just before the spell was unleashed, the Grand Lord twisted his body once more in mid-air, narrowly avoiding a fatal hit.

Despite the near point-blank range, the boy’s final, desperate strike missed its mark.

Blessed with monstrous reflexes, the Grand Lord had read the trajectory by observing the boy’s shoulders, eyes, and fingers, perfectly predicting the timing of the attack.

But the boy had failed to recognize the Grand Lord’s last-minute movement.

While blessed with immense magical talent, the boy’s physical abilities—his reflexes and reaction speed—were practically cursed.

Thus, his all-or-nothing attack ended in failure, only causing minor damage before exploding into empty air.

Thunder rumbled, and blinding flashes blanketed the sky.

Everything below was engulfed in flames as the world flickered between darkness and light.

“Damn it, I should’ve invested one more point in agility…”

With those last words, the boy lost consciousness.

The Grand Lord stretched out his remaining left arm and grasped the boy’s throat.

It was thin and fragile, like the stem of a young sapling.

There was no need to hesitate.

Though the boy seemed unconscious due to the magic overload, there was no telling when he might wake and strike again.

Just as the Grand Lord tightened his grip to snap the boy’s neck…

“That’s far enough.”

A long-awaited voice echoed across the battlefield.