Chapter 217
Chapter 217
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 217
Chapter Title: I Don't Dodge
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Pow! Pow! Pow!
The arena echoed with the sound of drums exploding.
The brutal beating with a blood-red club sent chills through every spectator's heart.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"What... what is this? What am I even seeing right now?"
"That's not magic—he's just pounding him with raw strength...?"
"No way. That can't be. What technique could possibly surpass magic in this world...? Maybe it's some new spell?"
"No, look closely! There's no elemental property, no mana waves! He's just straight-up clubbing him!"
Andrew, helpless despite his mana, taking hit after hit.
The new professor swinging his club with an impassive face.
The crowd stared at the bizarre scene in stunned silence.
Meanwhile.
"......!"
Duke Magor, patriarch of House Patrick watching from the VIP seats, bulged his eyes.
He shot to his feet.
'What the hell...?'
He had secretly cast a mana link on Andrew.
A mana link—an advanced spell allowing a patriarch-level mage like himself to lend his mana to the boy as needed.
And that wasn't all.
He'd been covertly firing compressed mana pellets at that professor.
'He dodged all of them... and kept beating him senseless? Ignoring Andrew's magic entirely?'
Does that even make sense?
Absurd.
And not with spells, but mere physical motion—pure one-sided thrashing.
What an embarrassment!
It was as if that kid didn't even need magic!
Duke Magor ground his teeth.
'Orchen province?'
No matter that he was a professor, no backwater noble from some unheard-of province could humiliate a child of the prestigious House Patrick.
House Patrick was undefeated, and it had to stay that way.
- Wh-what in the world?! What's happening?!
- Andrew Patrick of one of the four great houses is getting beaten like a dog!
- Oh man, this is brutal just to watch! At that rate, he'll forget every single formula he knows!
This wasn't a duel.
It couldn't be called one.
If he had to name it...
Corporeal punishment. Or a beating?
"Brutal..."
"So people can actually take that much punishment."
"Isn't that a surrender?"
"No surrender signal yet."
"But how's he supposed to signal with that kind of beating?"
"That professor... he's terrifying."
The agitated crowd in the Magic Tower stands.
Even the heads of the other four great houses watching with curiosity or pity.
Crunch!
The prideful Duke Magor couldn't endure it.
Boom!
He stomped, mana surging through his foot.
The sound boomed louder and clearer than the announcer's mic.
- This is cheating!
A declaration from a patriarch-level mage.
- This is a violation! Using non-magical techniques in a Magic Tower duel is an insult to the sanctity of the duel and a challenge to House Patrick!
At his shout.
The crowd and announcer all turned to the VIP seats.
Even under countless gazes, Duke Magor was resolute.
- House Patrick will not stand for this! Mages of the house, seize that insolent fool at once!
* * *
House Patrick's declaration.
"Hoo."
I'd been gleefully clubbing Andrew in revenge for Arin.
Now I let out a faint sigh.
"You lot just can't stick to the script, can you?"
"Ugh... ugh."
Andrew writhed like a worm, pushing at the ground with his arms.
Desperately trying to crawl away from me.
"Foul play? Your patriarch started that crap first. He's been shooting weird shit at me the whole time."
Step. Step.
I approached with a cold expression.
Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and flailed his arms upward in panic.
"St-stop! I was wrong! Sp-spare me!"
Terrified, his pants were soaked.
Every orifice on his face leaked fluids.
Tch. A boy bawling like a baby.
I never cried even in front of a Giant Dragon.
"Bullshit."
I smirked.
"Did you stop when he begged you to?"
Thwack!
I swung the club again.
Why had I suddenly ditched magic for a club?
Simple reason.
'I already knew.'
Staging a showdown this big meant I was a dead man walking.
Even if I beat Patrick?
They wouldn't let me walk away.
Probably no one here was oblivious to that.
So why should I play by the rules?
A lion thrown into the Colosseum just tears into its foe.
It doesn't follow human rules.
Here in the Magic Tower.
I was a wild lion.
A tiger.
Thwack!
"Argh! Graaah!"
Just as I swung my arm to club Andrew again.
"Stop! Stand down!"
Three mages leaped onto the stage.
Judging by their mana, not students.
'Here we go?'
Heh.
I grinned darkly, and the announcer whispered to someone who looked like an official.
The whisper carried over the mic to the whole crowd.
- Wh-what's this? Does that mean the duel is over...? W-well, they're facing off again. Ahem! With so many spectators, we should keep broadcasting. Oh, yes? It's fine? Haha, got it!
He sounded flustered yet practiced.
The crowd not leaving despite the duel ending said it all.
This wasn't their first rodeo.
- Alright then, Round 2 broadcast starts now! House Patrick has finally drawn their blades! What fate awaits the new Orchen professor who dared challenge one of the four great houses?!
And just like that, slipping from neutral to Patrick's side.
I got it.
Just like me.
Everyone here expected my defeat.
Anyway.
The noble mages who looked like Patrick's men glared at me like they wanted to devour me.
"You violated the duel rules! Surrender without a fight! You can't stand against House Patrick with that power anyway!"
"Yeah, right."
I scoffed.
Surrender?
What a joke.
Surrender and die, fight and die—what's the difference?
"Bring your elders or the Tower Lord for all I care. Come at me all together."
Whoosh!
I spun the club once, then let it hang at my right side.
"You'll regret it?"
"You will."
Fwoosh!
I instantly reshaped the club into a spear.
Yeah, spear still felt best.
It fit perfectly in my hand.
"Let's see how many of you great ducal mages get owned by a lowly provincial professor you looked down on."
The stage was set.
Crowd not budging despite the duel called off.
Not just spectators.
Witnesses to whatever petty tricks House Patrick pulled.
Humiliating them.
For honor-obsessed nobles, that alone would be a massive humiliation.
* * *
Kwaaa!
Kwagaga!
The mages' spells flooded like waves.
Mastery of water magic—flashy yet gruesome.
Splash!
Water turned into charging boars or dragon shapes lunging forward.
But.
Sss.
I couldn't just take it.
I stepped on shadows, closing the gap to the mages in an instant.
Ranged mages' weakness: close quarters.
"Damn it, where'd he go?!"
"Deploy water shields, fast!"
"Yes, sir!"
Graduates, huh?
No pushovers.
Unlike that punk Andrew, they threw up barriers first.
They sealed every approach with mana-infused water.
While keeping up the assault.
Precise, sharp strikes aimed at me.
"So what?"
Sss!
Water bombs slammed where I'd been.
Kwaaaang!
The impact cratered the stage floor.
"Missed me."
Plus.
I could dish out that kind of power too.
Swoosh!
Dodging the surging water spells by a hair.
Fwooo!
I thrust my spear full force at the water shield.
Compressed energy infused with Poison Fog essence.
And then.
Myriad Arts.
Secret Technique.
Poison Flash.
Kwaaaaa!
The energy blasted forward.
Fwaaah!
Green lightning dyed everything.
"......!"
The crowd gasped.
Fwoooo......
As the massive explosion and flash faded, the space revealed—no water shield.
Not even traces of the mages inside.
"Mi... insane."
"One hit and they're gone?"
"What kind of bullshit magic is that...?"
Not magic—spear arts.
No need to clue them in.
"You fool, what are you doing?"
An watching elder asked with a worried look.
"They're no joke. Especially if those old fogeys in the VIP seats come down..."
I know.
I knew it was an unwinnable fight.
But.
'Elder.'
I regripped my spear.
'Remember the sun incident? That desert dungeon back then.'
"...I do."
'Same deal—no answer then either.'
"That's different. Back then, the sun openly tested you. Now..."
'What matters is not running.'
Grip.
As I held the spear, twenty-odd mages rushed onto the stage.
Stronger than the last batch.
One even looked elder-level.
Guy I'd struggle against 1v1.
Just looking at him choked me.
'Past Arin was lonely. Those families up there.'
Glance.
I eyed the top edge of the stands.
Nobles glaring coldly.
'They must've been insurmountable mountains to her. She planned to face the Magic Tower alone against them. How could her master just back down?'
I won't run.
Pshooo!
Dozens of sharp water spears grazed past me.
Reflex dodge or I'd be riddled.
No ordinary speed.
Drip.
Blood trickled down my cheek.
A couple more grazes—left shoulder and right thigh throbbed.
"See?! One slip and you're dead! No, fighting means certain death!"
But.
I don't dodge.
'This dungeon.'
It was designed this way.
Why unmeasurable difficulty?
Why S-rank entity dungeon?
No matter how I cleared it, any path I took.
They were set to hound me.
As long as I backed Arin, the Tower was my enemy.
So I'd fight.
Clash.
To protect my subordinate Boneo, I wouldn't run.
'If that's how to resolve Arin's grudge.'
Fwoosh!
Not a spear this time—a staff.
No time for games.
My maximum power.
My unique ability.
Skeleton King.
Couldn't summon Boneo, but every other skeleton was fair game here.
'Come on.'
Behold.
You dogshit mages.
This is what a necromancer does!
Amid the tense standoff with the mages.
Just as my staff neared the stage floor.
"Wait!"
A shrill young voice pierced the stage.
"Stop it! What the hell are you doing?!"
A scrawny figure climbed up, bravely standing before me and spreading his arms wide.
Splash!
The Patrick mages flinched, halting another water blast.
Because.
Blocking their path was.
Eloise Arin.
Heir to Duke Eloise's house—one of the other four great houses.