Chapter 88: Because I Have So Much (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 88: Because I Have So Much (1)
Sshhhk!
An ice spear, conjured in an instant, shot forward.
The distance between Arsen and his opponent was barely three paces. The moment the spear materialized, it was already at the man’s chest.
Clang!
But his opponent blocked it.
The ice spear smashed against the hard marble floor and shattered into pieces.
Move after you see it, and you die.
Move after you hear it, and you will surely die.
Such was the speed of Arsen’s magic.
Yet, his opponent deflected or evaded every attack before the sharp tip could even graze his body.
Arsen had long since lost count of how many attacks had been blocked. No matter where he aimed or from what direction he launched his ice spears, all of them were swatted away.
Just as the distant onlookers registered the shattered ice on the ground, three sharp cracks echoed from Arsen’s hand.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Three ice spears sliced through the air simultaneously, targeting the heart, the back of the neck, and the crown of the head. At the change in attack pattern, a wide smile curved his opponent’s lips.
Gripping his sword, his body blurred, moving so quickly it left afterimages.
Clang! Clatter!
He easily deflected the spear aimed for his heart, then immediately spun, thrusting his sword out and pulling it back. The thrust blocked the ice falling from above, while the retraction intercepted the spear flying from behind.
Clatter, clatter!
The ice that fell to the floor shattered into tiny fragments. This meant he wasn’t just parrying them; he was striking them with enough force to obliterate them. Arsen did not let up.
Whoosh!
Clang!
Another fiercely lunging ice spear was driven into the floor.
It wasn’t that Arsen was weak. His opponent was simply too strong.
Considering that Brissen’s knights had fallen one by one to a single one of these spears, one could only imagine the sheer power of the man Arsen now faced.
Ssssshh!
A torrent of ice needles poured from Arsen’s fingertips. There were well over a dozen of them, each condensed to be as thin and sharp as a sewing needle.
Seeing their number, the sword vanished from his opponent’s hand.
Or rather, it changed shape in an instant. The sword, which had been radiating a sharp, lethal aura, transformed into a round, broad shield before anyone could react.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Blocking the attack with the newly formed shield, his opponent lunged forward.
Seeing the man, who had only been defending, suddenly rush him, Arsen channeled his mana without hesitation. He vanished without a chant and reappeared behind him.
Though his target had disappeared, his opponent didn't panic. In a fluid, seamless motion, he swung the shield behind his back.
Whoosh!
With a flicker of dismay, Arsen vanished once more. The shield, having sliced through the empty air where he had stood a moment ago, quickly reformed into a sword.
Only this time, it was a dagger, not a longsword.
At the same time, Arsen reappeared a short distance away.
Swish!
As if having already read his thoughts, his opponent’s dagger flew toward the exact spot where Arsen materialized.
“Whoops!”
Startled, Arsen quickly manifested a Shield. Just as he was about to Teleport again under its protection—
Screeech!
With an ominous shriek, the dagger pierced right through the Shield.
The very Shield that had remained perfectly intact against multiple attacks from Brissen’s knights was pierced by a single dagger. It glowed white for a brief moment before vanishing uselessly.
The glass-like blade lunged straight for Arsen’s neck. It all happened in the instant he froze, stunned that his Shield had been destroyed.
Just as everyone watching sensed the imminent danger—
The dagger, poised to pierce his neck, came to a dead stop as if caught by an invisible hand. Then, it lost its shape and dissolved into the air.
It had left a tiny scratch on Arsen’s neck.
Gulp.
Feeling a slight sting on his skin, Arsen swallowed hard. If the dagger hadn’t stopped, there would be a dagger-sized hole in his neck right now.
It was Arsen’s defeat.
Arsen raised both hands.
“I yield, Your Highness.”
His opponent, Calian—who had dropped by for a surprise spar after a long absence—smiled and nodded.
“Good work, Sir Hertz.”
At those words, the white-robed mages who had been watching the spar with bated breath all stood at once.
Cheers erupted from every mouth.
“Whoa!”
“That was amazing!”
Even without using Aura, Calian was still a Sword Master. Seeing him and Arsen trade blows right before their eyes must have been a spectacular sight.
Calian smiled briefly at the cheers shaking the training ground, then pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to Arsen. It was for the blood trickling from the cut.
“I was surprised. You can Teleport without a chant now?”
“It hasn’t been that long. Dame Grace was a huge help,” Arsen replied humbly, giving credit to Rachel Grace, the master of movement magic.
The two began walking out of the training ground side by side. As they walked, Calian looked at Arsen and asked, “But you don’t really need to close the distance when fighting a swordsman, do you?”
It was true just now, and it was true in Bern’s final moments. Arsen had closed in to block and destroy Bern's sword at point-blank range.
Arsen replied as if it were obvious.
“Where’s the fun in fighting from a distance?”
Calian stared at him, speechless.
No matter how useful Teleport was, mages were inherently slower than swordsmen in close quarters. Just moments ago, hadn't Arsen been helpless after his Shield shattered? Yet this mage, a specialist in anti-personnel combat, loved trading blows with swordsmen at arm’s length.
“You almost died just now,” Calian pointed out.
Arsen just grinned.
Seeing him risk his life simply because it was fun, Calian didn't press the issue and just nodded. After all, Arsen was the one who had taken down Bern.
Of course, Bern had been missing an arm, hadn’t slept for three days so his concentration was completely shot, had a dozen arrows sticking out of his body, and was bleeding so heavily he could barely stand…
But still, he was a mage who had defeated a Sword Master.
He could handle himself.
“Don’t teach the other members to do that.”
“Of course. Don’t worry.”
Replying politely, Arsen wiped his neck and said, “But I was quite surprised when you threw your sword, Your Highness. If you can do that, there’s really no point in keeping our distance. It’s amazing that you can maintain the Magic Sword even after letting it go.”
It was a sincere compliment.
Calian replied as if he still had a long way to go. “I can maintain it long enough for a brief throw, but anything beyond that is difficult.”
Then, he added in an incredibly nonchalant tone, “Because once I throw it, I can’t control it, nor can I retrieve it.”
“…Excuse me?”
Wait a minute. What do you mean you can’t control or retrieve it?
Stopping dead in his tracks, Arsen asked again with a bizarre expression, “Then why on earth did you throw it?”
Calian smiled. “My faith in your skills.”
Faith, my foot!
Didn’t that just mean it was pure luck that it vanished right before his neck?
Arsen’s face screamed that he had a lot more to say.
Having no way of knowing what was going through Arsen’s mind, the other mages gathered around. They were the members of Valkan, whose numbers had now grown to about fifty.
Realizing he had almost crossed the Senyu River on a flower petal, Arsen cursed Calian under his breath. But the mages, thrilled to have witnessed such a rare spectacle, were chattering so excitedly that the curse likely didn't reach Calian’s ears.
Kyrie heard every word.
* * *
Soon, Arsen called the mages back into the training ground and began instructing them on the key takeaways from the spar. Calian, watching them from a chair just outside, spoke up.
“What do you think?”
He wasn’t talking to himself. The question was for Franz, who was sitting right next to him. Franz, who had been watching with an air of utter indifference, asked, “About what?”
There was a reason Calian had gone out of his way to have a match with Arsen on such a fine spring day.
It was solely because of Franz.
Of course, they hadn’t come out on a friendly picnic together.
The Valkan Mage Corps was not just a group of mages huddled together to fling fireballs. If it were, they wouldn’t have earned the notorious nickname of “demons.”
In the past, Lemain had founded Valkan, but Franz was the one who had truly utilized them.
So, who was it that turned them into demons?
“Do you have any interest in training those mages?”
It was Franz.
Calian knew that Franz had once left the entire administration of the kingdom to Silike, focusing solely on nurturing Valkan. Of course, Franz was still young and might be different from his past self. But Calian also knew that Franz was vastly different from ordinary people his age.
“What nonsense,” Franz scoffed, his displeasure clear. He had been asked to train mages out of the blue when all he did was swing a sword. It was a remark Calian heard at least once a day, so he paid it no mind.
“I’m not asking you to teach them swordsmanship.”
Although they were already undergoing military training, Calian grew greedy. There was no reason to delegate the task when the original architect of their strength was sitting right here, idling away.
Hearing Calian’s words, Franz let out a dry laugh. “I don’t understand why you’re dragging me into something you could easily do yourself, little brother.”
At that, Calian smiled back. “Because my knowledge isn’t from this country. It would expose me.”
Indeed. By now, Franz knew a fair share of Calian’s secrets. Calian had told him the same story he had told Lemain. As the Royal Brother of Secritia and a knight, Bern would have known Kairis’s strategies and tactics. However, that made it difficult for Calian to get directly involved in Valkan’s affairs.
“Besides, I already have so much. If I take charge of Valkan as well, it will only invite trouble.”
Brissen and Randel surely knew by now that Valkan’s power was nothing to scoff at. Therefore, Valkan could not belong to Calian just yet. The balance of power had to be maintained until only one of the two princes was left standing.
And there was one more major reason Franz had to be involved.
“If you do nothing but stay in my shadow, you will die, older brother,” Calian said, his expression serious.
The gates of the House of Marquis Brissen had opened. This meant Evan was on the move again.
“You and I have joined hands, but you don’t have a proper faction of your own. Marquis Brissen will undoubtedly try to eliminate you first.”
Franz stared at the training ground in silence. Since he seemed to be deep in thought, Calian waited.
From behind them, they heard someone approaching.
“Prince Calian.”
Turning, they saw Yan standing there. He wore the pained expression of a man bearing unwelcome news.
“What is it?”
“Marquis Evan Brissen has requested an audience. What should we do?”
Knowing exactly what this was about, a smile played on Calian’s lips.
Has he come to see if he can sense my Aura?
How amusing. Evan must believe himself to be weaker than Calian.
Calian, who had not been idle all this time, nodded without hesitation.
“Tell him to wait. I’ll be there.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Turning his gaze back to where the Valkan members were training, Calian spoke to Franz.
“See? He’s already making his intentions obvious. Yan must have told him that I was here with you, older brother. The fact that he specifically requested to meet only me means that, in Marquis Brissen’s eyes, you are no longer even worth considering.”
Franz still did not answer. It wasn’t because he didn’t understand; he already knew it to be true.
“Take charge of Valkan.”
“……Fine.”
Having gotten the answer he wanted, Calian rose from his seat with a light heart and walked out of the training ground.
It was time to see just how much sharper the old lion’s teeth had become.