The Imitator's Deadly Gambit

Werner was undoubtedly an outstanding mage. But being outstanding didn't automatically make him the strongest. Sword strikes that flew in from angles that should have been impossible to reach, sudden thrusts from behind, and slashes that followed erratic, unpredictable paths. The combination of those three kept Werner from catching his breath. On top of that, he had to cradle Airi in his arms and protect her, which was driving him absolutely insane.

Because he was holding the child, his movements were severely restricted. He couldn't even find a spare second to chant a spell. His robe was already in tatters, hanging off him like rags. The man who had introduced himself as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gaheris of the Black Round Table and charged at Werner with clear killing intent let out a soft chuckle. His crimson blade tapped the ground, ringing out with a small, clear ting.

"All those beatings I took sparring with Grandpa Cheonma weren't completely worthless after all."

Every single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time he had trained with the old Heavenly Demon, he'd been beaten black and blue. The survival instincts he'd developed purely to avoid getting killed were finally paying off. Even so, the gap between sparring and real combat was enormous.

Werner threw himself into desperate evasion, doing everything he could to keep Gaheris's blade from touching him. But that only dragged out the stalemate. He could never end the fight by dodging forever. And his opponent wasn't foolish enough to give him the breathing room needed to chant a spell. Truly caught between a rock and a hard place, Werner ground his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠teeth.

He regretted not bringing his older brothers and sister along, even if it meant revisiting that hateful past. Right then, Airi began to cry. Werner realized his face had grown dark and forced another gentle smile, trying to soothe her.

"Don't worry. I'll let you see Mom and Dad soon."

Airi's tears stopped as suddenly as they'd started. Werner immediately shrugged off his robe. Beneath it were the simple white shirt and black pants he'd been wearing. Gaheris tilted his head in confusion.

"Hmm...? Wouldn't keeping the robe on make it easier to dodge my strikes?"

"No. I'm done dodging. Now I'm going to fight seriously, so it was just getting in the way."

Werner drew in a deep breath. In a chaotic melee like this, grand magic and any spell that required a long chant were out of the question. That left only one option.

It was time to use the things he'd learned from his brothers, his sister, and Grandpa Cheonma exactly as they'd taught him.

Definitely gather mana—no, internal energy—in your feet, then step forward and stamp down...

Gaheris whistled when Werner suddenly vanished.

"Whew... A technique you learned from one of the other heroes?"

He casually blocked the knife that came slashing at him from behind. It was originally a survival tool, but it had no trouble piercing a human throat. Of course, that only applied if the victim let it happen.

"You would've had better odds if you'd stabbed at me while using those fancy steps. For a grand mage, you're a total novice in close-quarters combat."

Werner swallowed dryly. I know that, damn it. But something tells me if I close in carelessly, that red sword is going to make me regret it big time.

The knife-throwing techniques he'd learned from Squar were useless here, and without the proper weapons, he couldn't use the martial skills taught by Brother Zeke, Brother Melchior, or the knight commander. That left only the techniques from Grandpa Cheonma and the ones he could imitate from Squar. Their precision and power were laughable compared to the originals, but he had no choice.

Werner kicked off the cave wall again, activating Black Wing Weituo Heaven. Gaheris spun to face the movement and sneered.

"That footwork again? Even if you take my back, without magic you can't possibly—"

But Werner hadn't gone for Gaheris's back. He'd appeared right in front of the man's chest, close enough that a single finger could slip between them. Werner focused mana into his palm and slammed it against Gaheris's breastplate.

If Grandpa Cheonma used it, the guy would've exploded entirely.

Imitation was still imitation. It couldn't compare to the original master's refined technique. Had the Heavenly Demon performed it, the attack would have pulverized a massive boulder. Werner's version only managed to destroy the armor. Still, the damage wasn't negligible. Confident that the impact from a technique created by Grandpa Cheonma had been significant, Werner approached the fallen Gaheris.

He didn't want to leave any loose ends. He needed to make sure the man stopped breathing. But the supposedly unconscious Gaheris suddenly thrust his blade at Werner with near-sonic speed. The entire act of pretending to be unconscious had been a trap. He had been certain that a single stab would end it.

Unfortunately for him, the sword pierced only the ragged robe Werner had discarded moments earlier. Werner stood where the robe had been, wiping cold sweat from his brow.

"Holy shit, I almost got completely fucked over."

A spell that swapped the user's position with a mana-marked object. It was one of the tricks the phantom thief Squar loved to use. When she performed it, she could swap with objects over five hundred kilometers away. Werner's version was purely imitation, so the range was limited to about eight meters.

He had sensed something off from the beginning. For someone whose sword moved at that speed, losing consciousness from nothing more than a shattered breastplate was suspicious. The whole thing reeked. So he had copied one of Squar's favorite tricks and marked the robe with mana. Just as expected, Gaheris had only been faking unconsciousness. He was perfectly fine.

Even so, the fact that the man was confident enough in that sword to deliberately take a hit in order to land a surprise attack still left a bad taste in Werner's mouth.

"That sword's got something special about it, doesn't it?"

"Indeed... It is one of the rarer demonic swords even within our Black Round Table."

As expected, he wasn't going to explain its exact abilities. Werner clicked his tongue in disappointment. The battle had returned to a deadlock. Werner picked up the knife he'd thrown earlier while Gaheris raised his red blade and assumed a stance.

Werner hurled the knife. Gaheris charged forward and swatted it aside. With his weapon gone and the distance now closed, it looked like Werner had no more cards left to play. But Werner scattered a handful of powder he'd been clutching in his left hand. It was the remains of Gaheris's armor, crushed into dust by mana.

Gaheris looked momentarily confused, then spoke with clear disgust.

"What is this childish prank...? I thought you might have a hidden trump card."

"It is a trump card, you fucking idiot."

"...What?"

"I showed you, didn't I? How I can swap my position with an object I've marked with mana. But actually, it can also swap the positions of two objects."

Gaheris tilted his head, unable to understand how this bizarre trick connected to the current situation.

"Remember the things I touched earlier?"

Gaheris finally realized what was happening. Cold sweat broke out across his face.

"The knife you threw at me... and the iron powder you scattered on me..."

"Exactly. You inhaled a tiny amount of it just now, didn't you? So what do you think will happen if I swap the position of that dust inside your lungs with the dagger?"

Gaheris tried to cut Werner's throat before he could act, but Werner clapped his hands together faster. The knife materialized inside Gaheris's lung, piercing it completely. The man vomited blood and collapsed on the spot.

Werner immediately prepared a finishing spell, but then the baby Airi burst into tears.

"Yeah, that was scary, huh? Okay, I won't do anything scarier in front of you, so please stop crying."

Just in case, Werner kept mana concentrated in one hand while he checked Gaheris's pulse. If anything seemed off, he was ready to blow the man's head off instantly. But the pulse was gone. Gaheris was definitely dead. Werner let out a sigh and dispelled the magic.

That was when the red sword pierced through his side with a wet shunk.

"Huh...?"

"Faking death is child's play to those of us in the Black Round Table. You're still just a fledgling after all."

Gaheris coughed up blood as he drove the demonic sword deeper.

With those final words, Gaheris's breath stopped for good.