In such a power matchup, were the positions reversed, Garrett would likely have given up immediately. Duels arenât about life and death or unavoidable combat; a simple apology, or even foregoing one with a bit of thick skin, could halt proceedingsâ
Better that than taking a beating, after all.
The problem was, the opponent clearly didnât think so. With a furious roar, Knight Hopman launched an assault: for a warrior against a mage, closing the distance swiftly is the quintessential strategy for victory. Garrett had just prepared a vial of potassium permanganate, bracing himself, when he heard Mage Andrew urgently command:
âAurora, empower! Garrett, defend!â
As he spoke, his hands flickered with a ghostly light, pointing forward. A bone prison surged from the ground in the direction of Knight Hopmanâs charge. At the same time, Mr. Troka leaped forth, growing in size and transforming into a black panther mid-air.
Andrewâs hands moved rapidly, casting spell after spell on the beast, causing its short fur to shimmer with a metallic luster.
Auroraâs reaction was slightly slower. Fortunately, his high level and swift casting speed allowed him to quickly apply spells of bearâs endurance, bullâs strength, and catâs grace on Bernard. The barbarian roared mightily, his already imposing stature swelling even further as he charged with a large bone club.
âBoom!â
The clash between the knightâs sword and the bone club erupted in an explosion. Bernard stepped back once, while Knight Hopman staggered three steps back, drawing a neat circle before lunging to the left. Not yet crossing the midpoint, a deep roar confronted him as the black panther bit at his knee.
Garrett busied himself casting shields on his three companions. After completing the trio of protective spells and looking up, he saw the fifty paces distant had devolved into chaos. With Bernardâs immense strength, the black pantherâs agility, and a golden skeleton, the three surrounded Knight Hopman, who was unable to break through.
Hmm... seems stable?
Garrett blinked. He sidled up to Andrew, whispering:
âCan we make him surrender? If this drags on, he might actually die...â
Andrew glared fiercely at him. Seeing Garrettâs confused look, he resisted the urge to knock on his head, exhaling deeply:
âWhy speak out of turn? â Yes, I know you want to help Lady Seraina, and itâs not necessarily wrong, but must you speak so freely?
Blunt confrontation is one thing, everyone knows that, but why declare his familyâs illness openly? Are they not compelled to fight you to the death?!â
Garrett wanted to argue that their family did indeed have a hereditary illness and that it shouldnât be taboo to mention. Andrew glared again:
âDo you have proof? Can you prove it? Oh, youâre a healer, so what? Did they ask for your help? Did they ask you to broadcast their condition?!â
Garrett hung his head lower with each rebuke. On reflection, he realized he had indeed become overconfidentâ
Having enjoyed uninterrupted success recently, with access to the Mage Tower and persuading nobles and merchants for public health initiatives, he had become somewhat complacent.
Worst of all, he had forgotten the fundamental principle of confidentiality!
Lowering his head, he admitted:
âAndrew, I was wrong. I wonât do it again. Is there any way to make him stop? â This could really end in sudden death!â
â...Iâll try.â Seeing his serious tone, Andrew also sighed, moving from Garrettâs right to his left. Stepping slightly outward, he looked towards Knight Hopmanâs great-uncle, raising his voice:
âYour Reverence, can we call this duel a draw? We mean no harm, see, your grandnephew canât break throughââ
Priest Faelmorâs face darkened.
Truth be told, having spent years abroad with minimal family contact aside from receiving support and helping a few into the church, he rarely saw this grandnephew.
Only in his elder, frail years had he returned to his family for retirement, at the behest of Baron Hopman, to look after his son at social events.
What started as simple oversight quickly escalated into conflict.
At first, he wasnât overly concerned. It was just a girl, after all; what did it matter if she was a bit headstrong? The marriage arrangements of daughters were to be decided by their parents. The Countess had already persuaded Count Inverness, and the suitorâs aggressive approach seemed harmlessâŠ
Then, the young mage stood up. Priest Faelmor didnât know Garrett or his background, learning only that âheâs definitely no noble, and his mentor is unknownâ from questioning the eldest son of Count Inver
nessâŠ
Sounding like a commoner, Priest Faelmor was relieved.
He had no idea this young mage had followers, each more formidable than the last. A third-level mage with two fifth-level mages as followers; such a background was unfathomably deepâ
Just as he considered intervening and suggesting an apology, his own grandnephew recklessly attacked!
Damn it!
I didnât know who the opponent was, and neither did you?!
âEnough, stop! Stop!â He amplified his voice, trying to halt the fray. However, in the square, Knight Hopman, fighting three against one, paid him no heed.
Knight Hopman was genuinely unaware of Garrettâs identity. He had enlisted to fight against the Radiant Lord, breaking through in the process, and then traveled the kingdom for a full year. In that year, who had risen in Nevis City? Unless a mage had advanced beyond level 15, it was unknown!
Knight Hopman had just returned home a week prior, seeing Lady Seraina for the first time and being utterly captivated. Then, his entire focus shifted to persuading his father to propose on his behalf.
Worse yet, due to his previous conduct, no one besides the Countess was willing to remind or warn him; the Countess herself naturally assumed Garrett would yieldâŠ
When the followers one by one stood up, Knight Hopman found himself in a predicament, forced to charge headlong.
Fortunately, as a true level seven knight, honed in battle and adventure with spear and sword, he was confident in his ability to turn the tide against three opponentsâ
Three, two, one!
The barbarianâs movements suddenly slowed, and the force of his bone club also diminished. The effect of the magical enhancements was over! This was the moment he had been waiting for, the end of the enhancements, the instant of decline!
Knight Hopmanâs eyes flashed with ferocity. Gripping his sword with both hands, he unleashed all his strength, sending forth a blood-red radiance, a sweeping strike aimed at the barbarian.
ăBlood Dawnă, the familial sword stored with the full force of a superior knightâs strike!
Blood surged like a tide. The barbarianâs face and eyes were dyed red, his eyes even starting to bleed, clearly in a berserk state. He did not retreat but advanced, veins bulging on his arms as he gripped the club with all his might!
âAAAAAAAAAHââ
A roar shook the surroundings. Garrettâs ears buzzed, and the elderly priestâs shouts were drowned out. Only another roar, alongside the barbarianâs, rose to meet it:
âROARââ
A creature, neither dragon nor snake, emerged as a spectral beast from the club!
Clearly, the Alchemy Guild had put significant effort into repairing the club, sealing a high-grade beast soul within. Now, as the beast soul confronted the sword energy, though at a disadvantage, it wasnât immediately destroyed.
Seizing the moment, Mr. Troka roared, raising his claws to unleash eight gusts of wind. The golden skeleton, though silent, charged forward, sword slashing at the sword energy!
Together, they momentarily achieved equilibrium. Sword energy and beast soul screeched against each other, sparking. Yet, it was clear to all: the barbarian, bending and kneeling, plowing deep furrows with his feet, his arms trembling violently, couldnât hold out much longer...
âRetreat!â Garrett clutched the test tube, dashing forward. The next moment, Bernardâs blood sprayed wildly as he fell backward; the black panther whimpered, shrinking into a palm-sized kitten, and the golden skeleton...
The golden skeleton collapsed with a clatter. Skull, spine, ribs, limbs, scattered across the ground as the sword energy whizzed overhead.
Sword energy roared. Knight Hopmanâs eyes blazed, charging past the three fallen warriors, straight at Garrett. He didnât even swing at the barbarian again: ăBlood Dawnăâs energy was nearly spent, and every bit had to be directed at the mage!
Then, he saw the three mages shoulder to shoulder, pointing or raising their hands towards himâ
ăFireballă!
ăFireballă!
ăFlaming Orbăâ
One large and two small fireballs approached simultaneously. Just fireballs! Knight Hopman sneered, confident that even without stored sword energy, his own could easily shatter these fireballs!
He directed his sword light, slicing through. The fireballs on either side moved faster, while the Flaming Orb was slower. The sword light curved, encompassing them all. But the next moment, all three fireballs exploded, a trio of blasts converging on a single point like never before!
Trouble!!!
Knight Hopmanâs hairs stood on end. The blood-red sword light lasted only half a second before silently shattering. All he had left was his sword energy, the fruit of years of diligent cultivation as a level
seven knightâ
Knight Hopman swung his sword in desperation. Left, front, right, he had to block them all! Push harder, move faster, strengthen the sword energy!
The moment stretched on like eternity. Finally, as the blast faded, several layers of shields had been erected, obviously not easily shattered. Behind the shields, the young mage shouted:
âBernard!â
The barbarianâs roar and the black pantherâs growl approached, aiming for his back.
Knight Hopman turned, sword in hand. The next moment, a pain pierced his chest, and he collapsed, weakened.