by Fuse
“Oh, don’t like your chances?”
“…You think so? Well, you’re on. You’re gonna be the one calling me ‘boss’ in a few moments!”
He accepted the bait all too quickly.
“Listen,” interrupted Mjurran, “you’re probably looking down on me because I’m a woman, aren’t you? It feels ridiculous being the subject of a bet like this, but I’ll be happy to spar with you. But let me warn you: I’m a wizard, so I hope you’ll fight me appropriately!”
“A wizard, eh? You sure you should be giving me so many details before combat even begins? Of course, with that getup, it’s pretty easy to picture you as a conjurer.”
The term wizard referred to those adept in at least three different systems of magic. It implied talent in these dark arts far greater than your run-of-the-mill sorcerer or mysticist. The magic they wielded was as diverse as it was powerful—several times more so, it was said, than the attack magic of a typical conjurer. What Mjurran had just said, in effect, was that she was a well-seasoned, battle-tested magic expert.
Gruecith got the hint—and it made him respect her more. But he still didn’t take any special precautions. A higher-level magic-born like him had intrinsic magic resistance, and as long as limbs weren’t flying off him, his Self-Regeneration skill could heal most wounds. Anything short of lethal magic could be safely ignored.
Plus, he thought, if she can cast magic powerful enough to kill me in one stroke, she’ll need a vast amount of time to chant the spell. Conjurers like her leave themselves wide open—I can just finish her off then.
It was the exact same thought process Yohm had gone through back in the day. The results were similarly predictable.
………
……
…
“Baaahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha! Woudja look at that!”
Gruecith found himself bitterly looking upward as Yohm held his stomach and laughed for a good long while.
Damn it…!! How’s this even happening?!
His cheeks were red with embarrassment, not half because he was buried up to chest level in the ground. It took a lot to keep from crying.
“I know I probably should have begun with this,” he told Mjurran a bit later, “but my name is Gruecith. Perhaps it did not show very much earlier, but I am a lycanthrope and upper-level magic-born. And by that, I don’t intend to suggest I could have won if I transformed, let me assure you.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries with each other—pleasantries filled with sarcasm and excuses, although it would’ve sounded innocent enough to the impartial observer.
“Well, you two keep gettin’ along, all right? So, Gruecith, about the promise earlier?”
“Mm? Ah. Right. Yohm, from now on, I promise I will call you ‘boss.’ The demon lord Carillon is the only master I will ever truly devote myself to, but I see no reason not to show respect to someone I view as above me.”
“You sure about that? ’Cause I really meant it more as a joke to motivate you than anything…”
“It’s fine; it’s fine. But if I may be honest, if Lord Carillon ordered me to kill you, I would not hesitate for a single moment. My apologies, but that is how the rules operate between us.”
“Fair enough. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
At least Gruecith was honest as he lived up to his end of Yohm’s bet. He had to appreciate the lycanthrope’s devotion to his promises.
“In that case, I’m going to join your band as well. I’m pretty used to things around town by now, and I’d like to see some other human nations while I’m at it.”
“You sure ’bout that?”
“I am.” Gruecith laughed as he pulled himself out of the hole in the ground, grinning. “My job here is to explore the world. I’m allowed to do whatever I wish until ordered otherwise.”
But now someone was stealthily approaching them.
It was none other than Gobta.
Hee-hee-hee… I saw them. If she can do that…
He was plotting and planning as he interrupted the pleasant atmosphere surrounding the group. “I saw that battle just now! What a marvel! I am astounded. I simply fell in love with that lady’s moves, I did! And that’s why I hope I can ask a favor of her.”
He smiled eerily. Yohm and Gruecith both knew him well enough to grasp what this meant. He was scheming something again. Mjurran, on the other hand, raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.
“Ah, Mjurran, this is Gobta. He’s…um, well, you could say he’s a force all his own around here.”
“Hee-hee-hee! No, I’m really not.”
“No, seriously, Gobta here’s a real performer,” volunteered Gruecith. “He let that demon instructor beat the daylights out of him just now, but he always comes back for more.”
“Ooh yeah, that was rough earlier…”
Gobta modestly turned away a bit before remembering what he was here for. His face stiffened.
“So, um, there’s someone I’d like you to defeat, lady, using that same tactic. That demon—um, I mean, that old coot, um, I mean our sage instructor always goes around acting like he’s king of the world, y’see? So—”
Yohm and Gruecith nodded their recognition. Gobta lowered his voice, looking around in case anyone was eavesdropping.
“I’ll help you with this, Mjurran. If we can beat him, that’ll force him to treat us with some respect, at least. Besides, I’d love to see how the guy’d react to that.”
“Indeed,” Gruecith agreed, “it is an excellent strategy. Even an ogre mage would be helpless!”
So Mjurran, outnumbered three to one, reluctantly agreed to the request. “But can we make this the last time, please?” she begged. “Something that simple isn’t guaranteed to work every time.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine! The old man’s a swordsman, fighting at close ranges. He prides himself on his speed. He’s got to fall for it!”
“Yeah! He acts like he’s sooo superior to us hobgoblins, so I wanna make him pay for it for a change!”
“It was enough to trick even me, after all. A close-range battle, reliant on quick footwork like that, would be much harder if the trap was sprung in the right place.”
That trick worked, Mjurran said to herself, because you’re too simpleminded to spot it. It can’t put up with that much heavy use.
“But,” she pleaded, “what pretext should I challenge him with?”
“Hmm… Any excuse should do,” ventured Gobta. “Just tell him you want more instruction on dealing with magic-castin’ foes.”
“So this should be a scrimmage, then, not a real battle?”
“That’s fine, isn’t it? It’ll just be one strike. Tell him whoever hits first wins, and I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”
“Indeed, Yohm. Magic resistance plays no part in those rules—land a spell upon him, and you win. If he touches you first, he wins. A test of speed, you could say.”
“…Um, do you really think I’ll be willing to accept those rules? That puts conjurers at an enormous disadvantage. How can someone like that compete in speed with a swordsman who’s clearly faster than they are?”
“…Ooh yeah,” Gobta admitted.
“Accepting restrictions on your own abilities when you don’t know what your opponent’s capable of is like signing your own death certificate.” Mjurran sighed.
To her, serious-minded at heart, Gobta’s poorly thought-out ideas were enough to give her a headache. Suggesting rules like that was all but advising her foe to expect a trap of some sort. All the men here were too boneheaded to pick up on that.
“All right,” said Yohm. “So Mjurran doesn’t fight. We just want ’im to accept that you’re good with magic, y’know? So since Gobta suggested this first, maybe we can use him as bait.”
“A fine idea. He would certainly accept a challenge from the hobgoblin.”
Gobta began to dislike the direction this was going. “H-hold on a second!” he barked. Yohm and Gruecith were too busy working out the plan to listen. It�
��d be hard to bow out at this point. Having Mjurran fight for him seemed like it’d bear positive results, but if it was his neck on the line, that gave him pause.
Oh no… If I mess this up, I’ll be in big trouble, won’t I? I guess I’ll have to help think up a more serious plan…
“All right, guys. I have an idea. First, I challenge him to battle. When I do, I want you to put pitfalls in a big circle around us!”
“From that distance, a safer bet would be to liquefy the soil and keep him from moving.”
“How will that work?”
Mjurran liquefied a small patch next to her to demonstrate the process to Gobta. He took a step, then marveled as his foot went right in with a ploop, resisting his efforts to pull it out.
“Ooh, this oughtta work!”
That was the end of their deliberations.
“Right,” Mjurran said. “So my role here is to wait for the battle-start signal and transform the earth. Is that it?”
“Right you are!” Gobta beamed.
Now they just had to pull it off.
………
……
…
“So will I receive an explanation for this?”
Gobta, Yohm, and Gruecith had been made to kneel on the bare ground. Mjurran stepped up to join them, but Hakuro shooed her off with a wave and a grandfatherly smile. “You are fine,” he said. “I’m sure these fools before me instigated it, did they not?”
“But I couldn’t just—”
“Oh, think nothing of it. They got caught in your trap, so they reasoned that it’d have to work on me as well, no? It was an impressive spell, but their eyes telegraphed it from the start.”
Mjurran sighed. She’d seen it coming the whole time, too.
After settling on their plan, the group had called their teacher, the elder Hakuro. That much, at least, went well enough. One look at the man was enough to make Mjurran recall that he split a megalodon in half with a single swipe. Between his foreboding demeanor and the sheer sense of presence, she already predicted doom for this silly prank. Had this been a no-holds-barred battle, she would have immediately suggested a hasty retreat—but this was just a game, and she reasoned that being defeated would help her cohorts mature a bit.
It’s not going to work, I’m sure, but it might be a good idea to see for myself how this Hakuro character fights.
So she agreed to join in.
“Excellent!” Hakuro bellowed when asked. “That’s the spirit, lads! I will base it on real battle situations for the first time in a while. All three of you, take me on at once! And will the new woman be joining us? She seems to be a magic-user, yes?”
“Whoa, you old—I mean, sage master! Don’t count us out too early!”
“Listen to the hobgoblin, sir. Ya sure you aren’t being a little too confident for your own good?”
“Heh-heh-heh! As your guest, I thought it rude to horn in too much on the fun…but after what you just said, I suppose I’ll have to go all in, won’t I?”
The sight of the entire trio latching on to Hakuro’s goading made Mjurran modify a key part of her prediction. This was doomed even before the battle began. I have much to teach them after this…
Despite her complaining, she was used to being Yohm’s military adviser—really, anything adviser at this point. She was as strong and responsibly minded as ever, and she opted to just smile and treat this as a learning opportunity for her group.
Once things began unfolding, the match turned out just as wretched as she predicted. Liquefying the ground around him did nothing to slow Hakuro down.
“Geh! Why’s he moving like normal?!”
Mjurran had laid out her magic in a circle around the area, dispelling it just enough to create a path for the panicking Gobta to escape through. As she did, she defined a position for her pitfall and set it in place. Hakuro acted like it wasn’t there, as if running on thin air.
Ahh, he must have noticed. But nothing would change if he didn’t. That looks a lot like Instantmove to me.
That was one of the more difficult skills in the arsenal of Battlewill, a set of Arts that only the most talented could ever hope to master. Seeing it unleashed so effortlessly made Mjurran fully aware of just how pointless her tricks were.
“Tch! Over here, old man!”
But Yohm pressed on, revealing his position with a shout as he slashed at his foe. He was being read like a book. Gobta, to his credit, tried to tumble his way back to safety. He was rewarded with a wooden sword to the forehead.
“Not again…” He groaned as he sunk into the ground. Yohm joined him shortly—not to rescue him, exactly, but the real reason didn’t matter much anymore. Hakuro was just too fast. Before Yohm could even stick the follow-through, Gobta was down and Hakuro was behind him.
“Whoa?! I didn’t even see—”
“Fools.”
One strike later, Yohm was down.
If the liquefaction trick didn’t work, the original idea called for Yohm and Gobta to distract their foe while Gruecith snuck in a surprise attack. That proved a similar waste of time. Before Gruecith even realized what Yohm wanted him to do, Hakuro had defeated both his teammates.
And, in the midst of all this, Mjurran looked on at this beautiful demonstration of athletic ability. It required Magic Sense; the naked eye couldn’t keep up fast enough to let her understand what was going on. And she wasn’t just looking. She had the spell cast in advance to keep her magic-born roots a secret.
Still… If you’re going to challenge a foe who requires Magic Sense just to keep your eyes on him, the only thing that’d work is ranged magic covering a wider area. That wasn’t available here, so this was over before it began.
Really, any magic that required casting time wouldn’t do a thing against a target coursing at supersonic speed. For a wizard, tackling a foe like that would require racking several spells in advance, chanting them beforehand so they could be summoned with a deftly woven trigger during battle. That, or using Cast Cancel.
But even if I used Cast Cancel on my own, it’d only work up to midlevel magic. Any serious attempt might be doomed to fail…
Mjurran’s body contained more of the magicules that provided energy for all her spells, but trying to outclass him in strength seemed like a struggle to her. The sight of it all unfolding did make this nonsense seem worth it to her, though. Hakuro was targeting Gruecith, not the cautious Mjurran. Before neutralizing the magic-caster, he first wanted to defeat the biggest obstacle out of the group. In other words, Hakuro didn’t consider her magic to be an impediment.
A bit insulting, but so be it. Sir Hakuro could likely handle anything I could throw at him, here in my human form. I wish I could have hit him with something, though…
Following her pregame analysis, Mjurran had prepared three small explosive spells, meant to be triggered in a staggered arrangement. The first went off before Hakuro’s eyes as he struck down Gruecith—not a lethal bomb but a blindness strike that plunged the two of them into darkness.
“Ngh?!”
It was enough to produce a surprised grunt from Hakuro. But he pressed right on, unwavering. Gruecith had a keen enough sense of smell that blindness wouldn’t affect him in battle—that was the whole backbone behind this plan—but Hakuro didn’t rely on that sense much, either.
So much for that. Can he read people’s presences, or…?
Of course, Mjurran had guessed in advance that blindness wouldn’t slow him. Without flinching, she launched her second magic. This was a Flashbang, a spell that created a flash of light and a deafening noise to paralyze the target’s sight and hearing. It was one of her antihuman spells, effective in or out of doors, and she expected the blindness bomb would only accentuate the effect.
And again, she was right. Just before the magic took effect, she saw Hakuro edge backward for a brief moment in his darkness. He was within point-blank range of the light and noise, but he paid it no attention at all as he sprang back into action.
The reaction to that Flashbang was something shown only by those who could read the flow of magic—the movements of magicules. The blast itself, too, had no impact on him whatsoever. Just like Mjurran, he based his decisions in battle off Magic Sense. That meant he could read all magic before it happened, and that meant Mjurran would’ve had to bust out the big guns immediately if she wanted to impact this fight at all.
Ignoring her and tackling Gruecith first was an extremely sensible decision. She had focused on keeping him safe from status ailments rather than trying to cast magic directly herself, but Magic Sense made all that moot. The operation was upended at its very roots.
If anything, it hurt Mjurran’s ego, seeing her magic be so dismissively tossed aside like that. That was no fun, she thought. I was never too enthusiastic about this, but if he thinks he can pick on a wizard, let me show him what that costs!
So she turned her eyes toward Gruecith—and then she lost all interest.
“Arrrhhh! My—my eyes; my ears!!”
“What are you doing, you fool?!”
She could be excused for yelling at her comrade. That Flashbang had been pointed in a single direction. It shouldn’t have affected Gruecith that badly. The idiot must have stared right at it. She told them all beforehand what magic she intended to use. She could conclude only that Gruecith was the kind of lycanthrope who, if you told him not to do something, would immediately try that out first.
Mjurran threw her arms up in surrender. This is just ridiculous. I thought the way lycanthropes are so stupidly straightforward with people would make them easy to use. But it’s the exact opposite, isn’t it?
“If that did nothing to you, then we have lost. I doubt Gruecith will make any further contributions to our cause.”
“Ho-ho-ho! You are quick to read the tides of battle, my good lady—at least, much more than this rotten trio. So you will not use your final spell?”
“No. I doubt it would make any difference.”
The final spell was Sleep Mist, her trump card. Putting Hakuro fully to sleep was likely impossible, but if she could slow his thought process just a bit as he locked swords with Gruecith, that would provide just the chip in the armor into which to potentially drive the sword of victory. Even if it didn’t, Mjurran figured the surprise factor would throw off his game.
