Chapter 165
Chapter 165
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: A Dog That Bites If Touched
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The wind howls fiercely. No need to think—the source of the raging gale was obvious.
It whipped up from that scythe hovering in the air. The storm was so intense that an ordinary person couldn't even stand upright.
Yet Tana stood there unflinching, staring down the man. Her black hair and robe whipped wildly out of shape. Amid winds that would knock any normal person flat, she remained perfectly steady.
'Did he dodge it?'
No, she hadn't dodged. If she had, she couldn't be standing right there. Couldn't be constructing that magic formula.
Then what the hell—
She couldn't finish the thought. The man had completed his formula and begun his incantation.
Tana moved. No time to think. The magic radiating from the formula was on another level entirely. The mana woven into it felt utterly alien.
'Not human mana.'
It was laced with divinity. Blessed mana, they called it. She could sense the mana exhaled by a dragon.
'That hatchling from earlier is helping him.'
As always, her assessment was instantaneous. No matter how dire the situation, Tana's mind turned with cold logic.
She picked the optimal path from the worst-case scenarios. Judged with icy precision and turned the tide.
That was how she'd survived as a demon for so long.
'Kill Lee Seong-hoon. The hatchling too—'
Kill them both. The obvious choice. Leave Lee Seong-hoon alive, and he'd only get in the way. The hatchling? Instant dragon heart in her grasp.
Not pristine, but worlds better than nothing. She'd count herself lucky just to claim it.
No room for hesitation. Not even that blonde from before was in sight.
She raised her hand. Activated her authority once more. Something chilling and unknowable lunged forth.
Invisible. But she felt it. Hit by that, anything would die. Yet—
From the man's hand extended something aflame. Her formless strike burned away into nothing.
Shocking enough on its own. But what the man did next left Tana even more rattled.
'『Parallel Chant』?'
She leaped forward in an instant. He started sprinting mid-incantation. Sure, Parallel Chant wasn't some rare feat.
Rough for students, maybe. But among heroes? Hardly uncommon—
That was for three-to-five-verse mid-tier spells. The more intricate the formula, the tougher the parallel chant.
How do you cast something brutal even standing still—while on the move?
Yet that man was running. No doubt about it: a grand incantation soaring past seven verses. Magic beyond mortal limits.
Firing it off mid-stride. Of course, she had zero intention of letting it finish. But stopping it wasn't the play.
Tana vaulted forward. Her leap cratered the ground.
Ranged blocked? Close in and strike. Ram her arm through his body. Unleash her authority. Simple.
She soared behind the sprinting man. His back in view. The radiant magic circle flaunted its presence.
The hovering scythe slashed in to guard him like a sentinel, but batting it aside was child's play.
No softer target in the world than a chanting mage on the run.
Couldn't wield his weapons properly, so even they flew solo. Running was his only defense.
Tana thrust her hand out. Her authority surged. Fingers zeroed in on his neck—
"Gotcha."
They fell short. He whipped around in a flash, eyes locking. Those razor-sharp pupils bore into her. Gripped in his hand.
The scythe.
How. Why. The chant? No time for questions. Her neck burned.
His pre-empted strike was blindingly fast. Death closing in—she had no choice but to evade.
She wrenched her neck aside again. Demonic energy blasted out, forcibly halting her momentum. Extreme control only she could pull off.
The blade whispered past. Grazed impossibly close between her twisted neck.
Obviously, she couldn't fight twisted up like that. She pulled back for distance—but realized her blunder in seconds.
The briefest window. Hovering mid-air for one or two seconds. As if he knew exactly where she'd land. Timed perfectly for her position.
Space warped.
"Ah."
In that instant, Tana understood it all. The chant was a feint. Bait to draw her in. That spell wasn't his doing.
"Hatchling."
Her voice dripped venom one last time. Then her vision spun. In the whirling haze, she glimpsed her body gushing blood.
Lee Seong-hoon couldn't use magic. He didn't shun it thanks to Rune Magic—he'd acquired the Rune Magic skill precisely because he couldn't wield it.
The reasons were convoluted, but a big one was his clumsy mana manipulation.
A body devoid of mana to begin with. Clumsiness was inevitable. Even if it was a world he'd built himself. Even if he knew countless formulas by rote.
Theory and practice were worlds apart. He couldn't manifest known formulas as magic. Couldn't control mana. So he leaned on skills.
"Phew. She flew pretty far."
But now? Different story. He lowered the scythe he'd swung, glanced skyward—and the magic formula kept scripting itself.
It wasn't Parallel Chant from the start. If it had been, triggering Dimensional Refraction and Recovery would've blown it sky-high.
An utter novice in practical magic couldn't possibly cast seventh-verse or higher.
So how'd he pull it off? Simple—
—Oppa. Almost done.
"Good job."
One name said it all: Sion. An immature dragon, sure—but blessed with mana all the same.
Completing a spell off his mana and formula? Piece of cake for her. She'd hunkered inside his robe the whole time, just casting.
Letting Lee Seong-hoon play the mage to bait the enemy's guard down.
And the payoff? He'd lopped the head off a demon he had no business beating. She wouldn't die from that alone, of course.
'Kill shot would take something like Angel Fall.'
Raphael's wings still furled. Next time, then. Lee Seong-hoon whipped up wind from his returning scythe.
Spirit winds shoved at his back. Accelerating hard, he charged the collapsing, blood-spraying body.
Body and head were knitting back. No time to dawdle.
"Sion."
"Yeah."
He scooped Sion, who'd slipped out of his robe.
[Daddy.]
Levatein's sharp voice rang out, but no time to respond. Apologies later, right?
"Hmm. We'll chat proper later. Got it?"
"Yeah."
Aimed at both Levatein and Sion—but only one reply came. Sweating bullets, Lee Seong-hoon extended a hand.
Sion, cradled in one arm, reached out too. Dragon mana swirled into the magic circle.
Power? Leagues beyond ordinary spells, naturally. Magic in a dragon's lair amps up exponentially.
A dragon casting directly? Words fail.
Mana circles detached from their outstretched hands. The formation hurtled groundward, toward the body.
It unfurled to colossal size. With mana infusion, formula deployment, and chant complete, it ignited without pause.
Lee Seong-hoon eyed the demon. No dodging this. The returning head met his gaze.
He grinned. Sion watched, hesitated—then grinned back.
"Sion. Times like this, you say, 'Bad guy, die!'"
"R-Really?"
"Yup."
"B-Bad guy!! Die!!"
"Good girl."
He ruffled her hair. She beamed, shy but beaming. Nothing like that bitter parting smile—warmed his heart.
At last, the magic erupted. A sinister aura billowed out. Felt less like sorcery and more like true demonic power.
What emerged: a colossal hand. A giant hand of bone.
And clutched in it—
A massive scythe, gleaming purer white than [Death Reaper].
"Hey."
The demon, head reattached, panicked. She'd survive the hit, sure—but Lee Seong-hoon knew.
On the brink like that, Tana would bolt for sure.
Chasing? Futile. Finish her off, and she'd turn the tables.
"Go tell 'em."
Only one move left.
"Lee Seong-hoon is a mad dog that bites if you touch him."
Bluff it out.
The giant scythe cleaved the beach in two.
"Gasp—!!!!"
Tana's eyes snapped open. It had all happened in a heartbeat. Her head took flight. Reattached—only for a grand incantation's magic to come screaming in.
Pain like nothing before. Body bisected without warning, nearly erased outright.
If she hadn't nailed that last-second 'contact'—
"Long time no see. You calling to beg for your life."
Tana exhaled ragged breaths, lifting her head. A dim room swam into view. Faint light kept it from total black.
A man sat there. Legs crossed arrogantly on a lavish chair. His face stayed shrouded.
She had no words.
"Sent you to kill—and you nearly croak, come crawling back. Told your senior: no rampaging in the Maldives."
"....."
Tana stayed silent. So much she wanted to say. He knew the face. Knew the name.
Dragon was a hatchling, really. Words piled up, overflowing.
But she couldn't. One peep, and her neck was gone.
"Immortal freak I sent to Justitia? Tidied up quiet. The kill-job? Nearly dies, needs bailout. Sheesh."
The air quaked. Dust sifted from the ceiling. Tana swallowed hard.
Couldn't raise her bowed head.
"Eh. Whatever. Found something fun. Other ops smooth. You're off the hook—this once."
With his words, the tremors ceased. Only then did Tana lift her gaze to him.
"How's Lee Seong-hoon?"
The question she'd braced for. At last, she spoke.
"A mad monster."
Tana answered straight.