Gion vs. Drake
Bagan had meant to end the whole affair in a single breath, but when he saw Gion and Paul steal his fight and turn the guild hall into their personal arena, he could only click his tongue in disbelief.
The interior of the guild rang with nothing but the heavy thud of fists and the crash of breaking furniture. The battle’s savage rhythm filled the air, raw and unfiltered. The adventurers watching couldn’t even swallow properly. Their eyes were glued to the fight—especially the precarious exchange between Paul and Caliban.
Meanwhile, the true masters of the underworld and the adventurers’ guild—Drake and Gion—glared at each other like beasts ready to tear one another apart. Then, with a sound loud enough to draw every eye in the building, their clash began in earnest.
Boom!
The impact was so violent it was hard to believe it came from mere flesh and bone. The entire guild shook. Tables and chairs flew in every direction, forcing the spectators to scramble for safety. And this was only the beginning. Neither of them had revealed their full strength yet. The situation was only going to get worse.
At this rate, people are going to die.
Bagan couldn’t stand by and watch the guild they had all built together collapse. If it fell now, it would be at the hands of villains, and that was something he would never allow.
In a situation like this, there was only one thing he could do.
Use a spell he had never cast before.
Like that’s supposed to be difficult.
With that thought, he focused. The air, already heavy from the two powerhouses radiating aura, grew even thicker, pressing down on everyone like a lead weight. The pressure was so intense that Gion and Drake actually paused mid-strike, each gripping the other’s fist, and turned to look at Bagan.
The crowd, many of whom could sense the incomprehensible power pouring out of him, struggled just to breathe.
“W-what is that?!”
Among them, Reina—who possessed the keen senses of a mage—reacted the most strongly. She staggered under the indescribable energy radiating from Bagan, unable to fully withstand it.
“I can’t allow the guild or De Meca to fall into any more chaos.”
She took one slow step after another, forcing herself closer to him. The nearer she got, the more her body felt like it was floating, every hair standing on end. She barely managed to identify the spell he was preparing and immediately warned him about the sheer volume of mana required.
“If you circulate this much mana, anyone without sufficient resistance could suffer internal injuries!”
Though her mastery of magic wasn’t particularly high, she had received a proper scholarly education. She spoke without holding back what she knew.
But Bagan simply replied, “That’s not my problem.”
Of course he already knew. He also knew that the general level of the people here was lower than he’d expected. Nevertheless, he only intensified the mana flow. Using his heart’s core as a foundation, he drew in and condensed the surrounding natural mana to its absolute limit.
Everything in the vicinity began to warp under the pressure. Matter twisted and folded in on itself as if being pulled into another dimension, shrinking into a single point. That point then began to grow, becoming a void that swallowed everything.
Finally, the black dot expanded until it threatened to devour the entire building. The presence of those inside started to vanish.
Mass Teleport.
The black point became a portal—one capable of transporting every object and person along its axis to a designated coordinate. A large-scale movement spell that only a dragon could normally use. It was the only way to pull De Meca out of this chaos.
The fighters, along with several tables and chairs, were sucked into the portal. A few members of Dawn’s Wolf and several adventurers were caught in it as well, but there was nothing left that needed to be sent.
Now, the only ones remaining in the guild were Bagan, who maintained the Mass Teleport, and Sally.
“Let’s go.”
With those words, Bagan and Sally threw themselves into the portal. The swirling gate on the guild floor vanished.
“W-where are we?!”
“This has to be a dream…”
The adventurers caught in the spell stared at the dense forest around them and felt their minds go blank. They had just witnessed magic beyond what their eyes could comprehend—and they had been its victims.
Some, just as Reina had warned, lacked the resistance to withstand the mana and suffered direct damage. A few vomited blood or clutched their hearts as they collapsed.
“Hey! Are you okay?!”
“Anyone who can use recovery magic or has a healing potion, over here!”
Voices called out for their comrades. It was unfortunate, but this was the price Bagan exacted from the fools who had stayed behind to watch a battle they had no part in.
“A splendid location,” Gion said, taking in the chilly forest where not even a breeze stirred. He didn’t forget to flash Bagan a smile. “Perfect for tearing that bastard apart.”
His gaze shifted to Drake. The brief lull caused by the teleportation ended, and their battle resumed.
The coordinates beyond the portal were, naturally, the Zairan Forest. Teleportation could only send someone to a place they had already visited. The problem was that Bagan had cast the spell in such a hurry that he had no idea exactly where in the vast forest they had landed. He had simply recalled a memorable location rather than using precise coordinates.
Wherever they were, there were only trees and grass in every direction. Even that offered no real clue. The last time Bagan had explored the Zairan Forest extensively, it had been covered in thick snow.
“What… what just happened?” Natalie asked, standing beside Bagan without any idea how she had gotten there. He had taken extra measures to protect her from the mana backlash, so she hadn’t coughed up blood or clutched her chest like the others.
“This is the Zairan Forest. They can fight to their hearts’ content now.”
Bagan’s words seemed to reassure her. Whether she fully understood or not, she steadied herself and turned her attention back to Paul, who was still facing Caliban with his sword drawn.
The real problem, however, was Reina.
“This is impossible! You—what exactly are you?!”
“What am I supposed to say to that?” Bagan shrugged, playing dumb.
“That was at least Seventh Circle—no, Eighth Circle magic is still—”
“Just accept it and move on.”
Bagan turned away from her and refocused on the battle between the two giants.
Boom!
It was a fight between true warriors—fierce and unrelenting. They traded blows to the face without the slightest retreat, as if the first to dodge would lose.
What surprised Bagan was Gion’s physique. Drake was a pure brawler who had trained his body to the extreme, but Gion’s main weapon was a spear.
What kind of life has this guy lived?
The fact that Gion didn’t fall behind Drake even slightly piqued Bagan’s interest. It might have been a racial difference, but more importantly, it was worthy of respect.
Crash!
It was hard to believe the sound came from a fist striking a face. The air exploded on impact. When the blow finally landed, it shaved away a portion of the opponent’s aura and delivered real damage.
“Truly impressive power,” Gion muttered, standing completely unmoved as he assessed his opponent’s capabilities.
Gion’s ability to read an opponent was on a level that could only be gained after decades of experience. It was why he could serve as guildmaster. Even to him, Drake felt overwhelmingly strong. Strong enough that he might be the undisputed strongest in all of De Meca.
He seemed like he could hold his own against Elizabeth, the solo adventurer famous for taking on requests alone. Of course, Gion himself was no longer in his prime, but he was still a legendary adventurer known as “Water-Biting Gion,” a man who had crossed countless battlefields.
He wasn’t about to struggle against some nameless brat of unknown origin.
Yet even Gion was startled by the sheer power Drake displayed. There was a reason for that strength. Every so often, Drake would vanish from Gion’s sight and attack from his blind spot with terrifying speed.
His massive frame carried overwhelming power, yet he also possessed incredible speed. A perfect balance.
Once again, Drake disappeared from Gion’s field of vision.
Whoosh!
So far, Gion’s dense aura had protected him, but aura wasn’t infinite. If he couldn’t find a solution to those invisible strikes, he would eventually be at a disadvantage. It was the same principle Drake had used when he ambushed Gion back at the guild. Since then, no one had managed to track Drake’s movements.
Bagan knew why.
Trait—Acceleration.
As expected of the ruler of De Meca’s underworld, Drake possessed a blessing just like Gion and Bagan. Acceleration. Just as the name suggested, it gradually increased the user’s speed. Though it was only a C-rank trait, its effectiveness varied wildly depending on when and by whom it was used.
Bagan himself had used it occasionally when he had no other traits to register. Its rank meant very little.
“Attacking from where I can’t see you? Pretty cowardly for a big guy like you,” Gion taunted, knowing exactly how to provoke his opponent.
But Drake’s reply made it clear he had no intention of playing along.
“You can’t see me? How unfortunate. Then you’ll just have to die.”
They exchanged brilliant blows, maintaining a perfect balance where neither had taken a fatal wound. But that balance didn’t last long. Gion, troubled by the constant ambushes, finally used a technique.
“Hup! Martial Arts! Ground Leveler!”
Gion’s aura sank into the earth, turning the ground red before triggering an earthquake-like effect.
Rumble!
It wasn’t a direct attack, but a technique meant to disrupt the enemy’s balance. Through sharp analysis, Gion had determined that Drake’s ability wasn’t true instantaneous movement and made his decision accordingly.
“Using such a pathetic technique,” Drake sneered.
But he wasn’t ignorant of martial arts either. He was forced to abandon his Acceleration to counter the Ground Leveler. That left only a head-on confrontation.
Even without his spear, Gion had driven his opponent into a corner. Drake, as if to show he was truly cornered, revealed a new technique.
“I’ll show you something interesting.”
With those words, Drake staggered forward on unsteady legs. With the Ground Leveler still active, that was his only way to close the distance. He came close enough to throw a punch, but Gion didn’t dodge. He thought there was little a stumbling Drake could do.
But Bagan saw it—the trick Drake was preparing.
“Dodge!”
He hadn’t wanted to interfere, but the way Drake was manipulating his aura forced him to shout. A violet shape gathered around Drake’s right fist, forming something as sharp as a dagger.
Aura could become a shield to protect the body or a spear to pierce the enemy. Bagan’s mana sword was essentially magic that utilized aura’s principles. What Drake was using now felt like an early, primitive version of that.
Stab!
Despite Bagan’s warning, Gion failed to grasp the situation in time.
“Martial Arts—Dragon’s Claw.”
Drake loudly declared that he, too, could use martial arts. Just like the name suggested, the sharply formed aura pierced Gion’s stomach before the fist even made contact.
“Khup… Heh. Definitely interesting.”
Yet Gion did not fall. It was an attack that should have damaged his internal organs, but even as blood sprayed from his mouth and he clutched his abdomen, he staggered backward while desperately trying to maintain his sanity.
“Bagan… I have no choice but to trust you now…”
Why would he say something like that in the middle of fighting Drake? The others couldn’t understand. But Bagan knew exactly what it meant.
If I don’t stop him, no one can.
Crack. Crunch.
Lycanthrope—the race of Gion. When the full moon rose, when they suffered unbearable pain, or when they willed it themselves, they transformed into wolf-men driven only by the instinct to slaughter.
Crack. Pop.
Gion’s bones twisted. Silver fur sprouted across his entire body. His muscles became even more defined. His spine bent, his arms lengthened, and eventually he dropped onto all fours. His nose and mouth elongated into a snout filled with razor-sharp fangs. Claws extended from his hands. His near-white hair became a thick mane that ran down the back of his neck. The only clothing that survived the transformation was his pants, which now strained to contain his powerful legs.
“Kahaha! So you really were a Lycan?”
Even after witnessing the monster before him, Drake still sounded confident. But that confidence didn’t last long.
“Awooooooo!”
The characteristic howl of a wolf echoed through the Zairan Forest. The massive wolf-man leaped toward Drake in less than a second.
Its front paws swung wildly. The claws were razor sharp, and they instinctively carried aura. Drake wanted to dodge, but he couldn’t. He was sent flying, kicking up a cloud of dust before slamming into a massive tree.
Even though Gion’s Ground Leveler had already been dispelled, Drake couldn’t activate his Acceleration. The monster before him was simply too powerful.
“Grrrr!”
It didn’t end there. If a single collision with a tree was enough to finish the fight, Gion would never have asked Bagan for help. Like the excellent hunter he was, he confirmed that his prey was still breathing and charged in again.
Stab! Slash!
Gion’s steel-like claws tore into Drake mercilessly. His eyes were fixed solely on the man’s stomach. Occasionally he even bit down with his jaws. It was a sight that perfectly matched his infamous title.
Everyone present finally understood the true meaning behind “Water-Biting Gion.”
“Kuaaaagh!”
Drake’s body was covered in gashes and bite marks. He couldn’t escape the Lycan’s savage, indiscriminate assault no matter how hard he struggled. Gion had become a killing machine that would not stop until his enemy’s breath was completely cut off. The sight was terrifying.
“You son of a bitch! Dragon’s Claw!”
Drake used the same technique again. With the Ground Leveler gone and his stance stable, the attack was even more precise. But the strike vanished before it could even touch Gion’s body.
“Grrrrr!”
Thud!
The wolf-man stood a full head taller than Drake. Gion’s inherent trait—Intimidation—had activated. Any creature with animal instincts would freeze when faced with a superior predator. That same instinct had applied to the aura, causing the claw to dissipate before it could form.
“Fuck! You fucking bastard!”
Drake, now clearly terrified, could only stumble backward and desperately dodge the incoming attacks. Gion pressed forward mercilessly, determined to finish it.
Eventually, Drake’s back slammed into the center of a massive tree, leaving him with nowhere left to run. Gion opened his jaws wide as if he had been waiting for this moment.
Crunch!
Just like a wolf that never releases its prey, he went straight for the throat. Drake’s neck was half torn away in the Lycan’s interlocking fangs.
When Drake’s breathing finally stopped completely, Gion lifted his blood-soaked muzzle to the sky.
“Awooooooo!”
It was a victory roar. Even after the resonant howl faded, Gion didn’t stop. He began searching the surroundings for new prey.
The other adventurers finally understood what Gion had asked of Bagan.
“That’s enough. Intensive Sleep.”
At Bagan’s spell, Gion slowly reverted to his human form and collapsed on top of Drake’s mangled, bloodied corpse.