Chapter 124
Sylvan and Vanargand, were going to duel!
The news tore through the Loki Familia’s advance party like a gale.
The members reacted like a pack of hounds catching the scent of a fresh bone—one after another, they came scrambling over to watch.
Finn and Riveria, leading the group, made no move to stop them.
For one thing, at their current strength, so long as nobody was fool enough to unleash a massive burst of power and set off an abnormal reaction, nothing on the upper floors could seriously threaten them.
For another...
They were curious too.
Without that level-boosting magic (Eight gates), how on earth was Level 3 Kiriya going to beat Level 5 Bete? And in a single move, no less?
The more the two of them think of it, the more restless they got, itching with a curiosity they couldn’t quite scratch.
...
In a fairly roomy cavern, better than a dozen of the advance party stood off at a distance, every eye fixed on the two figures at the center.
Anticipation for the coming duel was written on every face.
"How do you figure Sylvan will attack? Think he’ll pull out that wood-summoning magic?"
"Doubt it. That stuff’s too slow—Bete could dodge it with no sweat."
"Maybe that blink-and-you-miss-it sword technique. The one where he moves like a lightning bolt."
"That kind of speed’s only impressive at Level 3 or 4. Against a Level 5 like Bete, it won’t cut it."
"If that won’t work and this won’t work, is Sylvan about to lose then?"
"Don’t say that. I still want to watch Bete get beaten up!"
"Hehehe, same. That guy’s tongue is way too sharp. A little humbling would do him good."
"Agreed."
"Same here."
Gleeful snickering rolled through the crowd.
Bete’s eyelid twitched.
He quietly resolved that once this was over, he’d find an opening for a nice long "training session" with these jerks and do his solemn duty as their fellow Familia member!
"Getting distracted mid-duel is a bad habit," Kiriya pointed out.
"I don’t need you telling me that."
Bete’s gaze hardened as he dropped into his opening stance.
"Pity. You just let your last shot at beating me slip by."
"You say that like I’d need a cheap shot to win."
As he spoke, Kiriya slipped the backpack off his shoulder and tossed it lightly into the air.
"Hm?"
A flicker of confusion crossed Bete’s mind. He hadn’t the faintest idea what Kiriya was up to.
And then, in the very next instant, every hair on his body shot up.
Because Kiriya had vanished.
In that split second, instincts honed over countless battles fired before Bete’s mind could catch up.
His legs coiled to dodge.
But—
Shhk.
A chill touched the back of his neck.
Then a faint sting lanced into his mind and locked his whole body rigid.
Not just his body.
For that one instant, it was as though the entire world had frozen in place.
Click.
Only when the sound of a blade sliding home rang out did the world lurch back into motion—and the horrified shouts of his companions finally reached his ears.
"..."
Bete lifted a trembling hand to the back of his neck.
It was warm.
When he drew his hand back, bright red streaked his fingers.
Blood.
If Kiriya hadn’t pulled that strike, Bete would already be a corpse!
He’d been so sure this fight would be a total curbstomp.
He had guessed the beginning correctly.
But he had completely misread the ending.
The one getting crushed from the first move to the last hadn’t been Kiriya.
It was him.
He was the clown all this time.
"I... lost."
He forced the words out, and the light in his eyes slowly guttered.
Bete Loga—the werewolf who had always lived and breathed strength, driving himself to stand above everyone else—felt his convictions take a blow like nothing he’d known.
And it wasn’t only Bete.
Every member of the Loki expedition party had been struck dumb.
"What was that just now?"
"Too fast! I didn’t catch a thing—one second he’s there, next second whoosh, he’s behind him."
"Was that a movement technique, or magic?"
The group dissolved into debate, but no one could make heads or tails of it.
In the end, nearly all of them turned to look at Riveria.
Under their collective stare, Riveria opened her mouth to explain—then could only manage a helpless little smile.
"That was almost certainly magic. Spatial magic."
The crowd went off.
Magic.
And spatial magic, at that.
That was a treasure among treasures!
More incredible still, the magic needed no chant whatsoever. It activated instantly.
What kind of terrifying edge would an ability like that give you in a fight?
Just look at Bete.
That speed was so ludicrous it made you doubt your own eyes!
"But..."
One member raised a hand, sounding unsure. "He’s already got three spells, hasn’t he?"
"The one that controls wood, the one that heals wounds and poison, and the sword technique that lets him move at impossible speed..." the man beside him started ticking off on his fingers—but the further he counted, the smaller his voice got.
One by one, every gaze drifted back to Kiriya, all of them thick with disbelief.
A fourth magic?
He actually had a fourth magic?
In this world, mortals could hold three magic slots at the very most.
And even reaching that ceiling was usually reserved for races gifted with rare magical talent, like elves.
For most people, awakening even a single spell in a lifetime was already something worth thanking the heavens for.
Riveria might go by ’Nine Hell’ and seem to wield nine spells, but at the core she had only three.
As elven royalty, she possessed a formidable talent called Chant Connection, letting her tune the chants of her three spells—Rea Laevateinn, Via Shilheim, and Dio Grail—into low, medium, and high-power forms.
In practice that let her fight as though she had nine.
But at the root, still only three.
And now here was a human boy who’d awakened four.
That was a miracle that overturned the rules of this world.
’Fate really does favor this child.’ Riveria sighed inwardly.
For the first time in a long while, her usually calm heart stirred.
That feeling was called.... envy.
And also... jealousy.
"Hahaha—how remarkable."
Shock and envy flashed through Finn’s eyes too, but he was the Braver.
The emotions soon melted into laughter.
"Perhaps this is exactly the kind of possibility the gods came down to the lower world to find. Truly fascinating."
"It is."
Riveria let out a soft breath, her composure gradually returning.
Then she looked over at the lone figure standing there and gave a rueful smile.
"We can mull all that over later. Right now, we’d better go check on him—before he takes it too hard."
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