Chapter 269
Chapter 269
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 269
>Chapter Title: I Asked Who It Was
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His physical condition was worse than it had ever been.
Twisted circuits everywhere, mana flowing backward along them—the only reason he could hold out was the low reliance on internal mana unique to his circles.
Crackle...
Aster ignited a Collision Formula right away and kicked off the ground. A trail of blue light stretched long in his wake.
Boom!
The shockwave echoed across the plain.
It was a bone-chilling roar, monstrous in its intensity, but Aeviron standing at its center remained utterly relaxed.
"That's more like it."
Aeviron raised his weathered staff to block the Collision Formula, then casually flicked his wrist. Aster was flung back by the rebound.
Splat—!
Dust billowed up in a thick cloud. Aster righted himself by dragging his fingers across the ground, while swallowing down the surge of blood rising in his throat.
Fight.
And die.
That was the resolve, but he had no intention of just charging blindly toward death.
Steeling his will, Aster kicked off again and lunged forward.
In the brief moment it took to reach Aeviron, lightning crackled around his fist. It was an explosive burst blending mana and magical power.
The spherical blast soon sharpened into a single spear.
That was when Aeviron's magical power seeped into the explosion.
Fizzle... fizz...
A strange flow drummed against the blast, and the dazzling light scattered away into nothing.
By the time Aster reached him, his hands were completely empty.
...Again. That damn trick again. He still couldn't grasp the principle behind it.
But there was no time to dwell.
Whoosh—!
Flames erupted from his fist.
He wanted to burn Aeviron directly, but with that cursed old man dispersing magic, there was no other way.
Even if it guzzled mana, he'd have no choice but to manifest spells instantly with his internal magical power.
Boom!
Another thunderous roar echoed out. Aeviron remained leisurely once more. But only for a moment.
...!
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Just as it seemed Aster would hang in midair after his strike was blocked, his fists suddenly rained down before Aeviron's eyes.
No, it wasn't just fists. Fists, knees, feet, elbows—even his head. Every part of his body targeted Aeviron's vital points in a frenzy. The speed was that of a master knight who had reached the pinnacle.
...Hah!
Aeviron, who had never lost his composure, let out a sigh and stepped back this time. It was the first retreat in the fierce battle.
Of course, it wasn't enough to reverse the flow of combat, but the near-miraculous close-quarters combat left even Aeviron astonished.
How could a mage move like that? It was an irregular assault that would fluster anyone.
But his opponent was the first seat of the Seven Mages, Aeviron.
"Impressive, sure. But that's all it is."
...Thud!
Gravity exploded outward with overwhelming force. Aster, who had been unleashing attacks at terrifying speed, couldn't adapt to the sudden shift.
"Guh!"
The gravity slammed him messily into the ground. But only for a moment.
Whoosh!
Aster's form vanished without a trace, reappearing above Aeviron's head.
When he rematerialized, pooling blood swirled around him. Crimson Jade, the spell that had once wiped out dozens of Decullan mages in an instant.
Craaaack—!
A blinding explosion lit up the surroundings, followed by a shockwave that rocked the area. Even the caster, Aster, spat up blood from the impact, flung far back by the recoil to trace a parabola through the air before crashing to the earth. But only for a moment.
Whirl!
Boom—!
Aster twisted midair into position, kicked off nothing, and charged at Aeviron. As if refusing to give him any time to prepare.
It was a blatant off-beat ambush, disrupting the battle's rhythm.
And when Aster burst through the rising dust from his spatial leap toward Aeviron, the old man was smiling faintly.
"That was fresh, too. You're adapting bit by bit. What monstrous adaptability."
It was pure admiration, without a hint of falsehood.
And why not? Until just moments ago, Aster had been utterly pathetic.
Like a child gripping a greatsword, flailing helplessly against the transcendent. An unbecoming description for a transcendent mage, but no better than a magic novice.
There were flashes of brilliance—magical armaments here, spatial jumps there—but impressive at best, never threatening.
But now?
Boom!
"Hngh!"
Aeviron lifted his staff to block the fist, only for Aster to spin in midair and smash down with his elbow. And that was just the start?
Zing—!
He tried to repel him with backlash, but a thread of magical power burrowed in and unraveled the spell.
Aeviron attempted to cast again, but another thread shot out to disrupt the manifestation. At the same time, Aster's head rocketed toward his face.
Aeviron retreated once more. A crisp impact rang out.
Craaaack—!
Aster, striking Aeviron's barrier, clutched his ringing head and stepped back.
It wasn't long before seven flames ignited behind him.
Whoosh!
Bam-bam-bam-bam!
The flames fired off simultaneously, shattering Aeviron's barrier. Aster frowned at how easily it crumbled—far too weakly.
Something felt off.
From the battle's start until now, he'd been tumbling through a desperate gap in power, but had Aeviron ever revealed any real moves?
No. Not once.
All he'd shown were shockwaves that rattled internals and that bizarre magical power manipulation that dispersed spells and armaments.
...Why? He'd had countless chances to end it.
At first, Aster thought it was mere mockery. The twisted old man's petty amusement. But what if it wasn't?
Aeviron's voice rang in his ear right then.
"You just gonna stand there?"
Aeviron took a step toward the Second Black-White Slums. Aster snapped out of his thoughts at the sight.
Vast plain under moonlight, Aeviron smiling. Aster kicked off once more and charged.
His body pushed to the limit. His head spun from overusing transcendence beyond safe bounds. But why?
...Maybe.
He could see a breakthrough.
A gap smaller than the eye of a needle, but enough potential to wager everything on.
Then, what must he abandon?
...Everything.
Then, what could he gain?
...Everything, in return.
The battle of mere endurance now had a goal. For that, Aster didn't hesitate to burn it all. Not for a single instant.
* * *
The lizard with small wings flew across the vast night sky toward the Second Black-White Slums without rest, despite the tearing pain in its wings.
It wasn't long before the wyvern sensed the anomaly.
'...Friend.'
Was it because it had become a familiar? Or perhaps because its life was bound. Either way, the contract's bond was far stronger now, and through it, Aster's life force pulsed vividly.
Whoosh...
Aster's life was like a lantern on the verge of extinguishing. Not the slow fade from his previous clash with the Seven Mages, but a blaze burning everything in its final moments.
'Going. Me. Great dragon.'
Sensing the crisis, the wyvern beat its wings harder. Blood oozed from torn wing membranes, but it ignored it.
Its clumsy flaps sent it tumbling to the ground repeatedly, but the wyvern pressed on, waddling forward.
If it couldn't fly, it ran; once speed built, it took flight again. It looked just like a chicken fresh out of its coop—and by the time it reached the Second Black-White Slums, the excruciating pain snapped it back to awareness.
But.
'Me, going.'
It wouldn't stop.
A sub-space pouch opened, spilling a moonstone that rolled away, but the wyvern didn't spare it a glance as it kept moving.
A pitiful sight for a great dragon, but it didn't care. Only concern for its friend mattered.
Almost there.
Just around this corner—someone who would help. As grumpy and bitchy as Aster, but with a warm heart deep down.
Surely, this one would aid his friend. The wyvern believed it without doubt.
That was why it had left Aster's side alone to head here.
It dashed through the crowd of drunks like a streak.
Unfortunately, the heavens weren't on the wyvern's side.
"Huh? What's this?"
"What's up? Don't mess around, let's go. It's your treat tonight."
"No, man. That's not the point."
The wyvern startled at the rough hand snatching its wing.
The drunk gripping it like a chicken tilted his head, inspecting the wyvern up and down, then called to his friend ahead.
"Come here. What does this look like to you?"
"What now... Huh? What the hell is that?"
"A lizard?"
"Lizards that big? With wings? Damn... Am I drunk? What is..."
The drunks gawked at the wyvern, heads cocked. Its appearance was unlike anything they'd seen, so they peered at it curiously.
That was when the wyvern, nearing its goal, let out a desperate cry.
[Shi, shi, foodbug—!]
"...Wh-what!"
"Di-did it talk?!"
Startled by the booming shout, the drunk dropped the wyvern, but it screamed on through the pain.
[Foodbug! Me, help! Friend, help!]
...But was it all in vain?
The cry echoed hollowly. The wyvern, shrieking nonstop, panted feebly and slammed its head to the ground.
[Foodbug, me, help. Friend... help.]
Just as despair filled the wyvern's eyes.
A voice rang out.
"Who the hell is it."
As if he'd been there all along, a masked figure emerged from Svetlana's hideout.
The masked man radiated murderous aura, scanning the alley like he was ready to snap necks on sight.
"Ma-ma-mage!"
"...!"
The drunks yelped in panic, but Shain cracked his knuckles and tilted his head.
"I asked who the hell it is."
Unexpectedly, the voice came from the ground.
[Me, me. Friend, help. Foodbug, help.]
"...?"
Shain cocked his head.
What was this?
Looked like a lizard... Sniff sniff. The blood smelled sweet.
Saliva pooled in his mouth.
Eyes gleaming with eerie hunger, but the wyvern paid no mind.
Shain's mind was pierced by the wyvern's voice right then. Not like before—this was closer to message magic.
The voice said:
[A-A-Aster! Dying! Help! Need!]
"Who's dying?"
[Wi-wicked one! Dying! Plains! Help, hurry!]
The wicked one was in danger.
...The slave of the vampire clan was dying.