"Don't worry, it'll be fine."
Seeing Marco's expression, Gildarts knew the kid had definitely misunderstood him.
"You won't die."
Gildarts laughed as he explained, repeatedly assuring that there was absolutely no danger.
"Really ? there's no problem?"
Marco looked skeptical, but despite his lingering doubts, he already trusted Gildarts.
He believed the old man would never harm him.
"But how exactly does this work?"
Marco was curious.
Could his body really be shattered and then pieced back together?
That would make this magic seriously overpowered.
"You'll understand once you experience it."
Gildarts didn't elaborate further.
Channeling his Magic Power, a brilliant blue glow enveloped his hand before he placed it directly on Marco's shoulder.
"Hum!"
In an instant, Marco's body was engulfed in Magic Power, rapidly transforming into a glowing sphere that pulsed with dazzling light.
As the magical radiance gradually faded, hundreds of miniature Marcos appeared where he had just stood—each one drastically smaller than the original.
They stood atop one another like a stack of figurines, resembling chibi-style dolls with oversized heads and tiny feet.
"What the—?!"
"What's happening?!"
"What's going on?"
As Marco processed the situation, a cacophony of voices erupted—hundreds of tiny Marcos exclaiming in unison.
"Ugh, so noisy!"
Gildarts sighed, rubbing his ears in exasperation.
This was probably the biggest drawback of this ability—he couldn't silence the fragmented targets.
The chatter of hundreds of miniatures was unbearably loud, especially when they all spoke at once.
Of course, if this had been used on an enemy, they wouldn't have had the chance to speak—they'd already be in hell.
At this moment, Marco was genuinely stunned.
He hadn't expected this outcome.
He hadn't been "Crushed"—instead, he'd split into dozens of figurine-sized versions of himself!
Even after splitting, Marco could still control each of his clones.
The sensation was surreal—with just a thought, his "clones" could mimic his actions.
They could attack together, shout together, or even perform different movements.
Excited, Marco began experimenting, directing his clones—one lifting a leg, another throwing a punch—completely engrossed in the novelty.
The swarm of chattering miniatures babbled over each other, though Marco himself felt nothing amiss.
To an outsider, it was a headache.
This bizarre state sparked an idea in Marco.
If he trained in this form, would his progress multiply when his body reassembled?
"Gildarts—"
Just as Marco was about to ask, Gildarts raised a hand to stop him.
With a wave, His magic power surged.
Under its influence, the hundreds of miniature Marcos were lifted, swirling towards a central point until they merged back into Marco's original form.
As his body reintegrated, silence finally returned.
"What were you going to say, Marco? Any insights?"
Gildarts asked calmly, observing Marco's stunned expression without explaining why he'd abruptly restored him.
"Uh, just a thought." Marco nodded.
Although he found it a bit strange that Gildarts had restored him so quickly, he didn't dwell on it and directly voiced his earlier thoughts.
"You've got quite the idea, but I'm sorry—that's impossible."
Gildarts' expression first showed surprise, clearly not expecting Marco to ask this, but then he gave a firm refusal.
"Huh? Why?"
Marco felt somewhat disappointed by this answer.
He had thought he'd found a way to exploit a bug for training—if it worked, it would be like gaining a hundredfold experience boost!
"Restoring the original body might cause problems."
Gildarts' expression turned serious.
He needed Marco to abandon this notion—it was no joking matter.
After all, this was an offensive spell, not one meant to assist in training.
Short-term splitting wouldn't cause any issues, but if prolonged, the consequences could be immeasurable.
There was even a possibility of being completely unable to reintegrate.
"That really is a shame..."
Marco nodded in disappointment.
It truly wasn't worth the risk.
With such a limited usable time, even if hundreds of versions of himself trained together, the actual efficiency gain wouldn't be significant.
The potential rewards simply didn't justify the risks.
Aside from sparking that idea, this strange experience had given Marco some other insights.
When Magic Power surged into his body and manipulated it, Marco could clearly sense the flow of that energy.
"Super Magic—Crush... it's insanely difficult magic to understand!"
Marco sighed.
Though he had personally experienced the way Magic Power moved within him, he hadn't gained much enlightenment from it.
In a way, this ability to split the human body was even more complex than shattering or dividing a target at the atomic level.
To shatter a target, one only needed to violently sever the bonds between atoms.
But to divide a person into countless miniature figurines required far more consideration.
And reassembling those figurines back into one? That was an even greater challenge.
There was a reason why almost no one besides Gildarts could master the Super Magic "Crush."
This spell was incredibly obscure and hard to comprehend—even grasping the basics was a struggle.
"True, Crush is indeed a very difficult spell to learn."
Gildarts nodded in agreement.
After all, this was a "Super Magic," one of the hardest spells to master.
Moreover, Gildarts could confidently say that even if others learned "Crush" they wouldn't be able to use it the way he did.
Magic was also about compatibility.
Everyone excelled in different types of spells, each with their own inclinations.
Those with exceptional magical talent might even naturally master certain spells as if born with them.
For Gildarts, this Super Magic "Crush" was something he had an innate affinity for—he could wield it effortlessly, even treating it like a basic attack.
For others to use a "Super Magic" just the preliminary preparations and gathering of Magic Power would take considerable time.
"The Crush Magic is a bit too bloody and violent. I don't use it much myself because it ends up covering me in blood."
Gildarts spoke up, and he wasn't boasting—it was the truth.
Normally, he relied on his fists in fights, avoiding the reckless use of "Crush" magic.
Only against truly strong opponents would he resort to it.