Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 834

"But he doesn’t have any mana," Finral said quietly beside Yami. "The Magic Knights are built on magic. Without it... what can he really become?"

From Finral’s perspective, Asta’s strength came purely from physical training. Impressive, yes—but muscle had limits. A powerful soldier, perhaps. Not a mage worthy of a knight’s mantle.

Yami didn’t answer right away. He crushed his cigarette under his heel.

"I’m interested," he said at last. "Let’s see how far his stubbornness goes. If he’s got the guts, maybe that’s enough."

A boy born without mana would have endured ridicule his entire life. And yet Asta stood there shouting about becoming the Wizard King, eyes blazing with conviction.

Yami had a soft spot for idiots like that.

Rowan watched him carefully and relaxed. No need for subtle nudges. Yami was already leaning in the right direction.

"Number 165!"

Asta stepped forward.

One by one, the captains remained still.

No hands raised.

The verdict was obvious.

Around the arena, whispers rippled. Some laughed openly.

"Alright, move along!" someone shouted. "Stop embarrassing yourself!"

Asta trembled—but not from defeat.

"I won’t give up!" he roared, voice cracking but unbroken. "Even if no one picks me, I’ll keep going! I’m going to become the Wizard King!"

A hush fell.

Yami suddenly leapt from the platform, landing in front of him with a thunderous impact. Dark mana burst outward, suffocating and immense. Many candidates staggered just from the pressure.

"So you’re saying," Yami asked evenly, "that a guy with no mana is going to surpass the nine of us and become Wizard King?"

Asta’s legs shook.

But he didn’t step back.

"No matter how much you laugh," he said through clenched teeth, "I’ll prove it." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then Yami barked out a laugh.

"Good. You’re interesting. Join the Black Bulls."

He clapped Asta on the shoulder.

"And if you refuse, I’ll kill you."

Asta blinked.

The other candidates stared in disbelief.

Up on the platform, several captains sighed.

"Yami’s collected another useless stray," Jack muttered with a grin.

Rowan glanced at him and replied calmly, "The ’useless stray’ just defeated the noble you selected in a single blow. What does that make your pick?"

Finral nearly choked.

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

A flick of his finger sent a thin green blade of mana streaking toward Rowan’s head. Not lethal. Just enough to shave off some hair—a warning.

The blade touched Rowan—

—and vanished.

Cleanly. Soundlessly.

Jack’s grin sharpened.

"Interesting."

He did not press further.

Rowan didn’t either. A single remark was enough. No need to escalate.

Selection continued. A few more candidates were claimed—mostly nobles.

When the final number was called and the sun dipped low, the annual Magic Knight Entrance Exam came to an end.

Some would train harder and try again next year.

Others would return home, dreams folded away.

Outside the arena, Asta stood vibrating with excitement.

"I’m Asta, from Hage Village in the Forsaken Realm! Nice to meet you!"

Rowan raised a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you—the man who’ll become the Wizard King."

Asta beamed.

Rowan added lightly, "Though you might want to check whether the current Wizard King agrees with that title."

Yami burst into laughter.

Finral went pale.

Not far away, an elderly woman adjusted her shawl, lips twitching.

Julius Novachrono—disguised, as usual—had attended in secret to observe new magic. The four-leaf grimoire intrigued him.

The five-leaf grimoire fascinated him.

Anti-magic.

A force that erased magic itself.

Rare.

Dangerous.

Extraordinary.

And then some cheeky Black Bull had made a joke about him never marrying.

Julius felt his eyebrow twitch.

He had sacrificed much for his dream.

A Clover Kingdom without rigid class barriers.

A kingdom where nobles and commoners could share a table.

A Magic Knight order where merit outweighed birth.

Progress had been made. Several captains now came from humble origins.

But change was slow.

Very slow.

Rowan caught the flicker of mana from beneath the old woman’s disguise and smiled faintly.

Time Magic.

So that was it.

Before Finral could open a portal home, Asta suddenly grabbed his stomach.

"Bathroom! Emergency!"

He bolted.

"Impressive timing," Rowan remarked dryly.

Yami snorted.

"Wait here. I’m talking to an old rival."

William Vangeance approached with his vice-captain, Langris Vaude, and the newly accepted Yuno.

Yuno had come to say goodbye to Asta.

Same orphanage. Same village.

Same dream.

Now standing on opposite ends of the rankings.

While Yami and William spoke, Langris stepped forward, gaze cold as frost.

"So you’re still playing errand boy for the Black Bulls," he said to Finral. "Never completed a real combat mission. You’re a disgrace to the Vaude family."

Finral smiled gently.

"I’m just not suited for hurting people. Or being hurt. I don’t have your talent."

Langris’s jaw tightened.

He turned sharply away.

Rowan watched the exchange.

Family pride. Insecurity. Affection buried under resentment.

"Awkward sibling dynamics," Rowan murmured.

He looked at Finral.

"You know," he said casually, "your spatial magic isn’t limited to transport."

Finral blinked. "Of course it is. That’s all it does."

"Is it?"

Rowan tilted his head.

"You can redirect spells through portals. Send an enemy’s attack behind them. Let them strike themselves."

Finral froze.

"If someone charges you," Rowan continued, "open a portal under their feet. Drop them into the sky. Or a volcano. Or the ocean."

Langris paused mid-step.

"With multiple enemies," Rowan went on, "you can cross their lines of attack. Turn chaos into self-destruction."

Finral’s breathing slowed.

"And if your control sharpens," Rowan added softly, "a portal opening and closing fast enough becomes a blade."

Silence.

Spatial severance.

No flashy projectile.

Just absence.

Langris stared at his brother.

Finral swallowed.

"I... I never thought of it that way."

Rowan smiled faintly.

"Most magic isn’t limited by power," he said. "It’s limited by imagination."

Somewhere in the distance, Asta shouted triumphantly from the restroom.

The Black Bulls had gained another anomaly.

And perhaps, just perhaps, the future had shifted by a fraction.