The Promised Duel
A duel had been promised. Kurta was taken to a separate room by himself and spilled every piece of information he possessed.
"That's everything I know."
"It feels like you're still holding something back. So why did you join the plot to assassinate the leader? Were you like the other werewolves, wanting to show the human world just how superior your kind is?"
"Show the superiority of werewolves to the human world? Hah." Kurta snorted at the question. "Plenty of the young pups spout that kind of talk. It's a big part of why Wolf Fang got dragged into this mess. But I'm different."
"Then what was your reason?"
"Obviously to fight the leader. She's the strongest mage, isn't she? Passing up a chance to face the strongest wouldn't make me much of a man."
"For someone who talks like that, I heard you didn't actually join the fight against her."
"Hmph. I jumped in because I thought I'd get to fight her, but the leader I faced wasn't even at half her usual strength. Beating an opponent in that state wouldn't let me call myself the strongest with a straight face. Besides, by then I couldn't back out anyway, so I just watched the kids do their thing."
A few more questions followed before the interrogation finally ended.
Next they moved to the underground training ground. Being an underground city, Shinsi had few true open spaces. The planned plazas existed but weren't especially large. As a result, areas that needed room—like training grounds—were usually built below ground.
It was a relief they had agreed to fight without magic. A brawl used far less space than a magical battle, after all.
Serpina lay sprawled out in the middle of the training ground like a starfish. Beside her, Ayoung was chattering nonstop.
"Senior! What on earth happened? I finish my part-time shift and suddenly hear there was an assassination attempt on the leader! And that you were the one who saved her!"
For Ayoung it was a bolt from the blue. And since Serpina was involved, that lightning might as well have struck directly over her own head. In Shinsi, far more people remembered her as "the kid who follows Serpina around" than as the Rank 5 mage named Choi Ayoung.
Serpina waved a hand lazily. "What a hassle. Ask Narel later."
"Narel? That name sounds familiar… hmm?" Ayoung's brain cells slowly hauled the memory to the surface. She didn't know many foreign names to begin with, so it didn't take long. When it finally clicked, she asked carefully, face slack with disbelief.
"U-um, by any chance… does that Narel person have the family name…"
"Family name? What was it again. Right. Liliasen."
"Uh… uhhh… That's weird, isn't it? As far as I know, there's only one person named Narel Liliasen…"
"Yes. As far as I know, too."
The last words hadn't come from Serpina but from right beside Ayoung. When she turned her head on reflex, she found the face she had seen countless times in magic textbooks.
"Eek?! Eh? Auh—?"
Ayoung's brain blue-screened. The only actual human among the three let out the most inhuman noise and started babbling.
Narel watched her and smiled softly, as if the reaction were adorable. "So you're my junior. I'll be counting on you from now on."
"Huh?"
Narel didn't answer Ayoung's dazed question. Instead she spoke to Serpina, who was still lying on the floor.
"It's time to get up. Kurta has arrived."
"Kurta? Oh, right. That wolf guy."
Serpina sat up. Her eyes met Kurta's as he stepped into the training ground. He looked her over and spoke first.
"Not using weapons?"
"Didn't seem necessary. What about you?"
"Where would I find a better weapon than my own body!" Kurta gave a sharp "Hup!" and flexed. In an instant his body swelled into werewolf form, his shirt exploding off his frame.
Serpina gazed up at the nearly three-meter-tall Kurta with open curiosity. "Whoa. How are your pants still fine when the rest of your clothes rip like that?"
"Hahaha! It's basic magic every werewolf learns! I already said I'd teach you everything, so if you want it, I'll show you!"
"No need."
The technique that kept clothes intact after transformation did spark a flicker of interest, but on second thought it was useless to her. Werewolves topped out around two or three meters and stayed bipedal; the trick might help them. For Serpina's dragon form, which easily exceeded ten meters, it would be meaningless.
Crack. Kurta flexed his arm and the handcuffs shattered like cheap plastic. The alliance employee carrying the key jumped in surprise. Kurta rolled his wrists and said, "You should use better restraints. Half-assed magic ones might hold normal people, but anyone with real strength will snap them instantly."
"You could've just said that! Did you have to break them? Those are taxpayer money!" Negin's irritated voice drifted over from a distance.
Serpina gave a small snort of laughter and stood. She waved Ayoung and Narel back, then looked at Kurta.
"Nothing else to prepare? Since this is the last one, you might as well go all out with no regrets."
"I'm ready! Let's begin!"
The moment the last syllable left his mouth, Kurta's foot slammed into the floor. The next instant he was right in front of Serpina. Few people could even track the movement with their eyes.
Serpina was one of them.
—BANG!
A massive sound cracked through the air as Kurta's fist stopped dead against Serpina's forearm. Only then did the spectators realize he had attacked at all.
Kurta's eyes widened in admiration at how cleanly his strike had been blocked. "As expected, you're incredible! My eyes didn't deceive me!"
"Hmm. If that's your best, I'm a little disappointed."
"Grrrr! Don't worry! That was just a greeting!"
A single exchange was enough for the veteran hunter to read Serpina's personality.
Her eyes tracked my movement perfectly. But she showed zero intention of dodging.
Unless she was some freak whose only talent was dynamic vision, the observation told him one clear thing.
Her pride is off the charts. No matter what I do, she plans to take it head-on.
Normally there was no reason to block an attack you could avoid. Dodging was better in every way—posture, timing, stamina. Yet some people deliberately ate hits like this. It was an arrogant stance that said, Do whatever you want; it won't matter.
Anyone else would have taken it as an insult. But Serpina had earned the right to that attitude.
"Grrrr…!" Kurta growled and poured even more power into his muscles. The next strike would be a fraction slower, but it didn't matter. His opponent wasn't even considering evasion.
Bam! Bam! Boom!
Every punch made the air explode. The shockwaves were loud enough that spectators had to cover their ears.
Serpina raised her own hands to meet him. Not dodging didn't mean she would play passive sandbag.
They traded blows several times per second. Fists, elbows, knees—Kurta even threw headbutts and bites without hesitation.
My technique is better. But…
As Kurta had guessed, in pure close-quarters skill he held a slight edge. Most of Serpina's combat experience came from magical battles against endless summoned creatures, while Kurta had spent his entire life refining melee combat. That small gap let some of his attacks slip through her guard.
A fist would graze her side just past her forearm. A low kick meant to shatter her leg would slam into her thigh. Yet those heavy blows meant almost nothing against her.
If they couldn't inflict meaningful damage, they were pointless. Even in human form, a dragon's body wasn't something a werewolf's strength could easily pierce. A clean hit to the face, stomach, or a vital point might have done something. When a punch luckily clipped her side, Serpina's eyebrows did twitch slightly.
But that single clean hit had been pure luck. No further chances appeared.
In contrast, every time Kurta blocked one of her strikes, the heavy impact traveled all the way to his shoulder. The damage was hard to believe given their size difference. He broke into a cold sweat with every received blow.
Eventually Kurta realized the truth. At this rate he would slowly bleed out his stamina. He had confidence in his endurance and briefly considered dragging the fight out, but he would exhaust himself first.
"Grrrr… No choice!" Kurta opened his fists and extended his claws. Even without magic they were sharp enough to shred steel plates like paper.
Jeers of "Coward!" rose from the crowd. To Kurta they were laughable. Cowardly? Who? No one called an ant cowardly for using formic acid against a human. Not using every advantage would be the real stupidity.
Fortunately for him, Serpina still wasn't using her full power. Had she fought in dragon form, his attacking fist would have been the one to shatter. Thanks to that, he had risen from ant to something closer to a hornet. In an unwinnable fight, he might at least land one stinging blow.
Kurta took a step back, steadying his breathing. He was preparing a single strike with everything he had.
Sensing the shift, Serpina dropped her casual stance and took a proper one. This was serious—nothing like her earlier lazy posture.
"Grrrrr!!"
With a roar, Kurta launched forward. An all-or-nothing strike that discarded everything except the attack itself. In a flash his claws drove toward Serpina's head.
Or so it appeared.
"Heh heh…"
Kurta laughed under his breath. His claws had driven into the empty space right beside her head. He hadn't missed. She had simply tilted her head back at the last possible instant.
"You… dodged…"
Those were his last words. His massive body crumpled. A huge fist mark was stamped clearly into his abdomen—the trace of Serpina's counterpunch, thrown the moment his own strike committed.
A blow that had literally thrown away his life. In the end, it had forced Serpina to choose dodge. At that realization… Kurta closed his eyes in satisfaction.
Serpina stared down at him silently for a moment, then turned away. She stretched with a long groan and muttered, "Not bad for exercise after so long."
Narel, who had been watching from the edge of the training ground, approached. She examined Kurta's body with a pulse of mana and declared, "Kurta's punishment is complete. Let us proceed to the next one."
On this day, the power structure of the magical world shifted dramatically.