Tiny vs. the Ma-Do Knight
“What the hell!”
KRAAACK!
“Is this shit!”
BOOM!
CRASH!
Tiny irritably swung his Stamp, smashing into the massive stone slab that the throne room door had become. Around him, imperial knights gathered with awkward expressions, staring blankly at the scene.
The wall hadn't even chipped under their full-force sword strikes, yet it crumbled in real time with every swing of his hammer.
But those stares grated on Tiny's nerves.
What's the difference between these guys and the ones from before?
Same uniforms, same skill level. But these allies weren't charging in. It was a baffling, chaotic mess.
Because the princes aren't here? Nah, that doesn't make sense. Why would imperial knights go after the princes? But earlier...
Fuck it, whatever.
The more he pondered, the dumber he felt. Tiny gave up thinking and set a simple rule.
“Just smash anyone who attacks.”
“Pardon!?”
“Don't just stand there—do something!”
Barking at the knights, Tiny shook off distractions and focused on breaking down the throne room door where the emperor surely waited. He held back on a full Meteor Strike to save energy—not knowing what might be happening inside.
And honestly...
I hope that fucking emperor croaks in the meantime.
But reality betrayed that hope.
RUMBLE...
Beyond the collapsing stone, the emperor was visible for a split second—eyes wide open, perfectly fine.
The moment Tiny confirmed it.
Oh, fuck!
A massive blaze erupted, swallowing his vision.
BOOM!
Cough.
“What a fucking day. Shit...”
Blasted far back and slammed into the wall, Tiny spat curses as he struggled to his feet. Even his instinctive Iron Body armor couldn't fully block the impact.
At least 6th Circle level.
His face hardened as he scanned around. Charred corpses littered the area, reeking of burnt flesh. The imperial knights he'd dismissed as useless—all vaporized in one hit.
Sketchy bastards anyway. Shaking off the shock, Tiny tried to clear the aftereffects when a slimy, unfamiliar voice rang out.
“You survived? How dare you!?”
Turning, he saw through the smoke: the emperor, bound and gagged, and a sleazy-looking bastard matching the voice.
Boiling mana surged with that obnoxious tone.
A Ma-Do Knight!? Damn it!
The assessment was worse than expected. Without a word,
Thud.
Tiny charged like a madman.
I can take him!
Even among superhumans, a mage over an Aura User? His unmatched mana sensitivity let him dodge most spells before they fired. In his past life, he'd been a natural counter to them.
This foe? Never seen him during the Demon World War. Probably not top-tier.
First strike wins!
Well, he'd already eaten one. Anyway.
Land one solid hit, and it's over.
Light as wind, he dashed forward. But before halving the knight's distance—mana flows from three spots.
Front, floor, right.
No time for shock—instinct kicked in.
Whoosh!
Defying inertia, he veered left.
BOOM!
GRRRIND!
White flames and lightning exploded where he'd stood; a black stone spike erupted, flickering in the fire. Glimpsing it, he charged again—the gap closed instantly, enemy's face in view.
Grinning like he'd read him.
Ugh!
Front, left, right—three more flows.
How!?
No time to think—instinct moved. Activating gravity, his suddenly heavy body skidded to a halt via friction. Muscles and mana coiled—then light again, he rocketed backward like lightning.
A joint-wrenching maneuver, but flames, bolts, and wind swept his spot. Relief sighed out.
Until something smashed his skull.
CRACK!
“Guh!”
Thud.
Mana Body reactivated blue armor on threat, but the surprise sent him crashing into the throne room wall.
“Nngh.”
Late mana pulse: shards from the first spell's spike had shattered and struck him. Freely wielding three elements—top-tier 7th Circle.
But more crucial:
Chaining spells at this speed?
Shock over pain.
“Slippery rat, tough too. Where'd you... Nah, doesn't matter. Die.”
Slimy voice pierced ears as mana waves enveloped everything. Insanely fast spellcasting.
How the hell!?
No mage could chain 5th-6th Circle spells like this—not by his logic. But gawking meant death.
Grind.
Teeth clenched, Tiny traced incoming paths and raised his hammer.
Frontal breakthrough.
Forcing his battered body, he traced the familiar Meteor Strike pattern.
Result:
BOOM!
Bursting from the wall amid the destruction storm, he shot to the throne room center.
“Nngh.”
Roll.
Not pretty, but.
“...Impressive. Not even Challenger-grade, yet how?”
Admiration laced with clear malice. But Tiny had no bandwidth.
“Fucking hurts, shit...”
Burns everywhere, mana drained—standing was a chore. Silver lining:
Hummm.
Soul power surged, reviving his exhausted body.
“...You even human? Orc champions wouldn't last.”
Really.
Later, tank-off with Zerik.
Absurd thought as he spat bloody saliva.
“Thanks for the praise.”
Lips split, more blood flowed.
Hummm.
Mana Body pulsed wildly, healing rapidly. But
Fight first.
Redirecting recovery power to the hammerhead. Questions bubbled naturally.
Why no sign in Demon World War? Died then? With this power?
Not solvable now. Focus: glare at foe with his one intact eyes.
No defense. One hit. Just one.
Resolving—sleazy mage smirked.
“Still fight in that state?”
“Obviously.”
Words unfinished, Tiny thundered forward. Good: prior barrage slowed his casting...
No—wait!
Approaching, foe's lip curled slyly. Bad omen. Before swinging:
BOOM!
A massive stone fist erupted from the floor, smashing him.
Thud.
Body hurled helplessly into the ceiling.
“Nngh...”
Crushing pain—plummeting inevitable.
Crash.
Damn it!
Dazed pain, eyes cracked open.
“Not even metal scrap... Weird body.”
Slimier voice: a 3-4m golem loomed beside him. Floor gouged into a pit—likely its material.
“Felt direct mana waves like a Ma-Do Knight. But indirect spells slip by? Still, not bad.”
Mockery clear, but no retort possible.
How?
Palace barriers might allow spells for experts. Yellow eyes suggested imperial blood—registered user maybe. But power defied logic. How rip up barrier-protected throne floor so easily?
Endless chains too.
Like barriers weren't freezing mana—but supplying it...
...Huh?
Palace mana? Insight flashed.
But no time—golem lumbered forward.
“Thief with the orb's far enough. Fun's over.”
Thud.
Boom.
Thud.
Boom.
“Die.”
Casual words, but mana vigilant—bracing for dodges.
Damn.
No hope visible. Despair.
But
“...To the end.”
Resolve firm. No matter desperation, never quit. Stake life on a hair's chance, thrash in hopelessness. He'd learned: only relentless snag last-second hope.
Or rephrase:
All power to speed. Explode on impact...
No hope? Create it.
Absurd, but that bullheaded grit crowned him once.
Steel resolve set:
“Go!”
Staggering body turned windswift.
Mage's face twisted—first time.
“Tenacious bastard!!”
Fit for a noble—mild curse, but shook him. Odds up 10%.
Boom!
Boom, boom.
Sensing golem strikes, evade pure instinct.
Hummm.
Left, right, floor.
Feel mana—leap airborne.
Foe neared. Grimacing face? Welcome sight.
Even oncoming blue flames.
Won't dodge.
Knows: take it, die maybe. But instinct screamed: dodge, no chance.
So.
“Die with me!!!!”
Roaring into blue fire, full hammer swing at mage.
That instant.
BOOM!
Biggest explosion yet—spell and hammer clashed.
Result:
Thud.
Mage's win.
“Fuck... sneaky...”
All strength spent, Tiny collapsed.
But victor's face soured.
“Y-you lowly scum, how DARE!!”
Blasted dozens of meters despite advantage—chose defense over offense. Imperfect block fueled humiliated rage.
“I'll tear you apart!!”
Thud.
Boom.
Golem stirred again.
“Sh-shit...!”
Drained to corpse-state, Tiny struggled up.
Mage grimaced in disgust—but smirked at golem foot descending on rising foe.
Eyes wide for first exhausting foe's crushing.
As foot crushed:
BOOM!
Auspicious blue chill aura intervened.
“Sorry I'm late, Sir Tiny...”
Solemn, heavy voice—awed whisper.