The Spirit King's Resolve

The Spirit King Lorsha radiated an extraordinary power. Speaking of which, a Spirit King... Officially, wasn't I the only one besides Airi who had ever contracted with a Spirit King? I'd heard there were a few who had refused the contract on their own. There was a swordsman who gave up his contract with the Wind Spirit for the sake of revenge, a mage who abandoned it for his convictions, and someone who simply disliked contracting with spirits altogether and thus rejected even a Spirit King. But to think one of them was Lorsha...

A colossal pillar of water immediately engulfed Gawain's body. I figured it would evaporate him in an instant like before, but even he couldn't escape easily. He spewed out a massive amount of flames before barely managing to break free. In contrast, Lorsha looked as if creating that water pillar hadn't taken much effort at all.

If Gawain had used about fifty units of mana to spew that fire, Lorsha seemed to have used only around ten to form the water pillar. Soaked to the bone, Gawain roared.

"Lancelot! Galahad! What the hell are you two doing, not helping me?!"

This was dangerous. No matter how strong Lorsha was, she couldn't possibly face Lancelot at the same time. That bastard Lancelot was a monster even I, Camellia, and Ricardo combined couldn't handle.

Yet Lancelot didn't move a single step. He simply said,

"What? What the hell is this bastard babbling about?!"

"What kind of bullshit is that, Lancelot?! Hurry up and fight these bastards!!!"

In short, he was saying he only did what he was ordered to do and had no reason to get involved in this fight. Subdue the Iron Spirit King, though... Was that just bluster?

"Damn it, I was an idiot for expecting anything from an arrogant prick like you! Galahad!!! At least you come help me!!!"

The masked woman Lancelot had brought with him answered.

Gawain's body began to burn with rage. So that's why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people say losers "burn up" when they get angry? Quite a literal expression.

"Carahes! At least you come help me!!!"

One of the masked men began to step forward.

"As you command."

"Damn it! The only one willing to help me is this one piece of trash... Every last one of you bastards! I'll be reporting everything that happened today to His Highness in full detail!!!"

He suddenly started calling everyone trash, but neither Lancelot nor Galahad paid him the slightest attention. Lancelot, on the contrary, gazed at Gawain, me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Lorsha in turn with a completely detached expression before speaking.

With those words, Lancelot slashed his sword through the wall. What appeared beyond the cut was a space made of pure black darkness. I'd seen similar tricks before—was this how he did it?

"Who the hell is this son of a bitch calling foolish—"

Galahad and Lancelot vanished into the dark space. I had no idea what the principle behind it was, but now wasn't the time to worry about those bastards. What I needed to focus on right now were Gawain and that Carahes guy.

As Carahes approached Lorsha, I immediately hurled a spell at him.

The lightning shot forward like an arrow, aiming straight for his face. It struck dead on. A normal human's face would have been turned to mush... Even if it didn't kill him, it should have dealt serious damage.

"Mmm... This one has quite a good flavor. The tingling sensation of lightning attribute magic is truly the best, don't you think?"

He was completely fine. To be precise, only his mask had been shattered. His annoying face and grating voice were both perfectly intact. Lightning Arrow was a fairly powerful spell. Getting hit directly by it shouldn't have left him so nonchalant. And from what he'd just said...

"You bastard... you absorbed my magic."

"That's right~ Every member of the Black Round Table is born with a unique constitution. I've been able to eat magic since I was a child. Whether it's a Tower Master or whatever, any enemy who uses magic is nothing more than a chef standing before me, wouldn't you agree?"

That nymph bastard with the disgusting way of speaking had been the same. No wonder the people gathered here were all so unpleasant to deal with. So did that mean Lancelot and Galahad also possessed some kind of special constitution?

"Both of you are mages, yes? Then I'll enjoy eating you both thoroughly. Not a single scrap of flesh or bone will remain...!"

He opened his mouth wide in a ravenous grin. The shape of that repulsive maw filled me with disgust. Personally, I hated bastards who looked like that the most. But it was obvious he was a natural counter to mages. Both Gawain and this Carahes had terrible compatibility with most mages.

Even if I opened Enoch and fired off large-scale magic, it would just be a special meal for him. In that case, I'd have to use magic that wouldn't matter even if he ate it.

Lightning-attribute mana began wrapping around my body like a suit of armor. Since it wasn't a projectile, I could just smash a lightning punch straight into his face. I charged at him and slammed a kick into his mug.

But what got torn off wasn't his face—it was the flesh of my calf.

"Did you think I couldn't eat attacks wrapped in magic? Did you mistakenly believe I could only consume projectiles? I eat the mana itself that magic emits!"

This son of a bitch should have explained that earlier. Blood began pouring out, and the only thought circling in my head was that I couldn't let this guy get anywhere near Lorsha. His compatibility against mages was simply too overwhelming. If only one of Ricardo, Camellia, or Glacia were here, things would have been much easier... Hell, even one of them would have been enough to crush him.

"Now then, it's my turn!!!"

He charged at me with his mouth wide open. This crazy bastard was treating me like a damn corndog.

If I was going to die anyway, I at least wanted to make this bastard choke on an implant. That was the steel-attribute magic I had used. But when he saw my body transform into steel, he changed stance and kicked me flying.

As expected, even covering myself in steel didn't completely negate the impact. On top of that, Carahes's hand-to-hand combat skills were quite impressive. But why had he changed stance instead of just eating me whole? He'd been rushing in to devour me directly.

Since he ate magic, he should be the natural enemy of mages... Wait. Lancelot had just said he subdued the Iron Spirit King. If the goal was to subdue a Spirit King who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was essentially magic itself, sending just Carahes should have been enough. The fact that they sent three of them instead meant...

Could it be that Carahes couldn't eat steel-attribute magic? Was that why, when I turned my body to steel, he switched from trying to eat me to attacking with a kick?

If so, the answer was simple. From now on, I was Iron Man.

I charged at him with my body clad in steel. All I had to do was smash his face in with my iron fist.

"Tsk... It seems you've figured it out."

So that really was his weakness? Now that I'd identified it, this bastard was as good as dead. Expecting him to retreat, I pressed in deep. But contrary to my expectations, Carahes closed the distance in reverse and bit down on my shoulder.

The steel covering my body shattered. As he chewed noisily on the steel that had been wrapped around me, he said,

"It's not that I can't eat steel-attribute magic. It's just a little difficult to digest, that's all. Everyone thinks the same way, responds the same way, and ends up getting eaten the same way... It's honestly not even funny anymore..."

"You fucking pig bastard..."

Was there really no answer to this? If I fought him with pure hand-to-hand combat without magic, my body would clearly get torn apart by Carahes's mouth that could devour anything.

"Well then, it seems you have no next move."

He kicked me straight in the abdomen. I blocked it with my arms so the damage wasn't too severe, but the impact was so great that I was sent flying straight through the wall.

I was pondering whether I should resign myself to losing a limb or two and fight him with pure physical techniques when a gloomy voice came from behind me.

"To dare put me in such a state... How insolent..."

Wondering who it was, I turned around to see a massive hedgehog made of steel thorns, bound tightly in black chains and groaning in pain. Its body was covered in wounds. It looked like it had been thoroughly beaten by Lancelot.

"To dare do this to me, the Iron Spirit King..."

"Hey, over there."

Thinking it might be of some help, I approached it. The groaning Iron Spirit King looked at me, its pupils trembling.

"Y... You are..."