Chapter 108 "That Filthy Personality Hasn't Changed."
"That filthy personality of yours hasn't changed." The voice came from slightly off the path, deeply gouged long ago by black aura. He'd used teleport, apparently. His tone was as nonchalant as ever, laced with amusement even, which only fueled my rage further.
"And that cowardly rat-like attitude of yours hasn't changed either."
Boom! Black aura exploded across my sword like a detonation. My head throbbed with fury, making it impossible to properly gather my mana, but the aura grew more savage with my killing intent, ferocious enough on its own.
I glared at Zigmund Hyde with eyes wide in rage.
"If you don't wanna die, draw your sword, you bastard."
I growled at his blade, still firmly sheathed. Swordsmen don't talk it out. Clashing blades—that's the ultimate communication. Truth be told, I had no desire to chat with Zigmund Hyde. I just wanted to vent the pent-up resentment from the past.
Zigmund Hyde stood silently at a short distance, watching me. Those noble purple eyes. Utterly mismatched for a worm like him. I ground my teeth.
Eyes like a purple cosmic sky, yet devoid of stars, pitch-black and dead. They curved. Accordingly, the tear-shaped mole beneath his right eye shifted slightly. A blatant sneer.
"That filthy mouth of yours is the same as ever."
Boom! I hurled aura straight at where he stood, unhesitating. A massive explosion tore a huge crater in the ground. I shut my eyes against the rising dust; when I opened them, no one was there.
Zigmund Hyde had teleported again.
'Think I'm clueless?'
Gripping my sword hilt until it nearly crumbled, I traced the mana of his vanished presence in the air. I felt it coalescing a short distance away. Drawing up my mana, I leaped without hesitation straight toward it.
As expected, a figure materialized in midair. His purple eyes widened slightly in surprise at my sudden approach. We were now within an arm's length; I could see every lash distinctly.
He'd grown taller and broader since last time. No longer a boy, but a mature, sharp-featured adult. His face had always been strikingly handsome, but now it transcended simple good looks—delicate as a cold statue. Yet his eyes... even the faint spark they'd once held was gone, leaving only chill emptiness.
My gut twisted. He'd been the one to leave, so why the haunted gaze? I resented him. Hated him.
'Fucking bastard.'
Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I swung my sword at point-blank range just before colliding.
Clang! The lethal clash of steel rang out.
Zigmund Hyde, stepping back a pace, had finally drawn his sword to block mine. Our blades locked; we exchanged fierce glares. His impenetrable poker face stoked my fury higher.
Clang.
Pushed back, Zigmund Hyde shoved my sword away with all his might, breaking the deadlock. I gave ground easily, then unleashed a merciless barrage.
Clang! Clang! Our swords clashed repeatedly. Dodging fireballs that singed the air near my hair, I thrust at his shoulder—but he evaded in a flash and counterattacked.
'......His skill's improved beyond comparison.'
He wasn't the only one who'd grown in those six years; Zigmund Hyde's prowess had skyrocketed. The aura emanating from him was that of a true powerhouse—comparing him to the boy he'd been would be an insult.
'I can't predict him.'
Incredibly, Zigmund Hyde had grown strong enough that I couldn't guarantee victory in a straight fight.
Crackle! A magic circle formed in the air at his gesture. Dodging the blue lightning that burst through it, I spun away. Seizing the opening, he slipped his sword toward my gut; I kicked his thigh, arched back, leaped into the air, and slashed upward from below.
The black aura arced viciously like a crescent moon—an attack no human speed could evade.
Whoosh.
And once more, his figure vanished into thin air. The black aura passed harmlessly through his now-transparent form, slashing the ground. A massive sinkhole yawned in the alley.
Good thing I'd erected a barrier at the entrance when the fight started, blocking noise, shockwaves, and entry. Otherwise, buildings would've collapsed, and people would've swarmed in from the commotion, getting hurt.
'Sword Expert, plus advanced mage.'
Zigmund Hyde's level was easy to gauge. From the surging aura within him to his astonishing magic prowess, conjuring circles with mere gestures.
'Neither sword nor magic lags behind.'
Most magic swordsmen specialized in one—swordplay with magic as support, or vice versa. But he excelled at both. He'd always blended them well, but now his skill likely made him the continent's top magic swordsman.
'And that teleport ability...... how?'
He hadn't even shown his full strength yet. What made him a tricky opponent was that teleport.
Teleport ranks among the highest-difficulty spells. Requiring intricate formulas, most mages drew them on the ground rather than manifesting in air. It guzzled mana, too—one cast drained most; continuous use was unthinkable, and many couldn't manage even once.
'But Zigmund Hyde...... casts it instantly, mid-swing, without incantation. Effortlessly. Five times in moments, and his mana shows no sign of depletion.'
Even for short distances, such proficiency bordered on impossible.
'Did he spend six years practicing just teleport?'
Face twisted, I parried his incoming slash. An odd discomfort gnawed at me. Partly his face, sure—but something deeper, instinctual, stirring unease.
It was the aura radiating from him.
"Six years, and this is all you've got? All that talk of hero this, continent's strongest that—turns out Mir's reputation was all hot air."
Seizing my brief distraction, he swung sharply and sneered.
My momentary lapse let him nick my robe's hem; I narrowed my eyes coldly.
"The one who's regressed since last time should shut it. I haven't even heard your name lately. Been convalescing in some backwater village?"
He shrugged nonchalantly at my jab.
"Maybe. Is that why you missed me?"
That brazen tone. That insincere smile. Those unreadable eyes.
Boom! Everything about him drove me insane with rage.
"For a sword-swinging mutt, you've got a hell of a long tongue. Must come with being a magic-sword mongrel."
I looked down at Zigmund Hyde, staggering under my erupting aura.
I didn't truly think magic swordsmen were mongrels or belittle their efforts. But to twist his guts? I'd say anything.
A low, cold voice slipped from my lips—one I hadn't thought myself capable of anymore. Suppressed in my lady's life, but resurrected now: the rough speech of my mercenary days.
"And the stoic swordsman shines so brightly."
Regaining his footing, Zigmund Hyde spat blood-flecked saliva and sneered back.
Watching him—changed yet unchanged—something surged up in me.
Zigmund Hyde was the same as back then. That foul-mouthed trap, those twisted smirks playing eternally on those red lips, that poker face that infuriated without revealing a thing.
The only change since I'd thought of him as a friend? My feelings toward him.
'Why.'
Though I now saw him as an enemy, a subtle fondness lingered amid the boiling rage. Why didn't you come that day?
"Even if you didn't see me as a friend, you should've come for Master. If you couldn't that day, you should've sought her out at least once!"
I hadn't meant to raise my voice. Raging felt like losing, so I'd aimed for calm. But out came resentment-laced fury.
I wanted to hurl dirt in those impassive eyes staring back.
I could accept he never saw me as a friend. Fine. It stung that I'd been alone in that—but I'd make do. Resignation was my old habit.
"Even an ungrateful wretch has limits. How could you do that to Karasho, of all people—your benefactor?"
But we'd trained under her together! Her disciple, like me! He'd owed her more than I ever did—and yet, after her death, he never sought her? Unforgivable.
"Are you even human?"
Blazing fury consumed me. A flicker stirred in Zigmund Hyde's purple eyes. Fleeting, but unmistakable. Long lashes briefly veiled his lightless pupils. Short jet-black hair whipped in the wind.
That hair color had people mistake us for siblings when we traveled together. Bickering ones, thick as thieves yet at odds.
The mole under his closed eye—mirroring mine, just reversed—fueled those misconceptions of blood ties.
'Siblings with Zigmund Hyde? If I shared blood with that scum, I'd off myself from the shame.'
'I'd have slain Mir. End it by killing him—no need to waste my precious life.'
'That bastard......'
We weren't your average chummy friends, but we were close. Bickering whenever we met, yet sharing a master, the world, battles. Comrades-in-arms, maybe more than friends. At least, that's what I'd thought.
"Ha, haha!"
A clear, hearty laugh—out of place—filled my ears. Rare even in our friendlier days, now twisted into this.
I stared coldly at Zigmund Hyde's sudden outburst; he met my eyes.
The mirth lingering on his face held zero sincerity. His eyes weren't laughing at all.
His laugh was a frozen lake. Hard-frozen, revealing nothing of its depths or contents.
Yet even laced with lies, Zigmund Hyde remained beautiful.
"You're such an idiot, Kashmir."
No longer a boy's treble—now a deep, mature baritone. Only his captivating aura endured from childhood.
He'd always carried a ruler's presence.
"You still can't let go of those petty emotions and misplaced loyalties."
His low murmur. My sword-grip tightened involuntarily.
Zigmund Hyde's upturned eyes curved as he chuckled softly.
"Did you really think some merc's downfall meant anything to me?"
He snapped my last thread of reason.
Shrieeek! A fierce wind howled—no, more like a storm's roar—engulfing the area.
"I once thought you were decent. A friend, even."
My confession sliced through gritted teeth, shockingly calm. Neither cold nor hot—just zero degrees.
With those emotionless eyes, I stared him down. Then I laughed. Dry, ceaseless peals until thought dissolved in mirth, and I stopped, breathless.
"Turns out you were just a beast after all."
Boom!
And the world went pitch black.