[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 16: Guardian of the Herb Field (4)
The cold air pierced his lungs in the early morning.
âHuff, huff.â
Oscar ran tirelessly through the herb field.
Bang! Bang!
Each time Jack's gun spat fire, the ground shook and the air split apart.
'Now!'
Oscar threw himself to dodge the deadly shower of bullets narrowly and rolled on the dirt floor.
"......Pah!"
He spat out the soil that had rushed into his mouth, then pressed himself flat against the herb field, taking a moment to catch his breath.
'Huff, huff, this is embarrassing for a former Tower Master.'
Fighting a skilled gunman was far more challenging than he had anticipated.
The most troublesome thing was that Jackâs bullets were faster than his magic.
'I can attack from long range too, but... a head-on fight puts me at a disadvantage.'
In terms of destructive power and speed, Jack had the upper hand.
'If there is one weakness... it's the reload time.'
Due to the nature of guns, Jack had to reload after shooting, and his gun held only two bullets at a time.
In other words, after two shots, his attacks had a mandatory pause.
'The time it takes him to reload is an average of 1.24 seconds.'
Only in that fleeting moment did the initiative swing to Oscarâs side.
The outcome of this battle would depend on whether he could capitalize on that opportunity.
'I've gathered all the necessary informationâ¦'
It was time to make a move.
Oscar was already exhausted from constant evasion, and his remaining mana was only half.
If he didn't change the flow of this battle now, he would end up as fertilizer for the herb field tonight.
"Hup!"
Oscar pushed off the ground, sprinting towards the gunman's back.
"There you are!"
Jack, turning around quickly, burst into laughter.
"Heh, hahahaha! After running around like a rat, the best you can come up with is close combat?"
Closing the distance to force a misfire was a textbook strategy against a gunman.
But the problem was that Jack was a veteran who had faced many powerful opponents.
'The movements of a greenhorn like you are predictable.'
First of all, Oscar was too slow.
Jack was confident he could hit Oscar even if he doubled his speed.
Swish.
Jack calmly calculated Oscar's direction and speed, aiming his gun at the young mageâs forehead.
"An impressive charge, butâ¦"
Instead of mourning his two fallen subordinates, Jack felt a rush of exhilaration from winning the battle.
This stimulation, this dopamine surge.
It was the biggest reason he couldnât stop killing.
With a wide grin, Jack pulled the trigger without a momentâs hesitation.
âDie already!â
Bang!
The bullet, tearing through the air, grazed the black hair of the charging mage.
At the same time, a crack appeared on Jack's once-smiling face.
âDid I miss? Thatâs impossible.â
It wasn't an excuse or stubbornness from unwillingness to admit his mistake.
Just as Oscar was confident in his magic, Jack was confident in his marksmanship.
âIf there's no issue with me⦠then the one who changed must be him.â
Jack concluded that Oscar had used an acceleration spell in that brief moment.
'...Impressive.'
Even though they were enemies, he couldnât help but be amazed at Oscarâs nerve.
To use acceleration while a bullet was flying towards his head was a move that showed a cold, calculating mind.
âBut thatâs as far as it goes.â
Though impressive, Jack had faced monsters much faster than this rookie.
âTo eliminate any risk, Iâll aim for the torso instead of the head to increase accuracy.â
Jack had no reason to make a risky choice when he had the upper hand.
âSorry, but my gun is loaded with two bullets.â
With one bullet still in the chamber, the distance between them was 30 meters.
Jack savored the slow-motion feel of this moment as he gently pulled the trigger.
"You, young mage! I will forever remember your courage!"
Bang!
As the gunshot rang out across the dark herb field.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed into the air like a fountain.
* * *
The forced application of acceleration to his incomplete body brought immediate side effects.
âGuhâ¦â
Oscar struggled to breathe as his heart pounded wildly, as if it would burst.
Yet even in this moment, his mind remained cold and rational, as if doused in icy water.
âThe remaining distance is 30 meters.â
The enemy had already prepared to pull the trigger.
Judging from the slightly lowered aim, Jack was targeting his abdomen or heart instead of his head.
âHe wants a guaranteed victory rather than a reckless gamble.â
Oscar knew he couldnât dodge a bullet fired from this distance.
âIf I were to stack the acceleration spell three times⦠it might be possibleâ¦!â
The problem was that his body wasnât strong enough to withstand that level of overload.
If he accelerated three times, his muscles would tear apart instantly.
Despite all these unfavorable conditions, Oscar kept running.
â20 meters.â
Jack was an annoyingly cautious opponent.
He hadnât pulled the trigger even as Oscar closed in.
âButâ¦â
That kind of suspicion was exactly what Oscar needed right now.
Jack probably believed he would win as long as he didnât make a ridiculous mistake.
He must have thought that Oscarâs only option to turn the tables was to use acceleration magic.
â15 meters.â
At this distance, they could almost hear each otherâs breaths.
Oscar focused all his senses on his eyes.
âRead it.â
The slight movement of Jackâs finger on the trigger.
The subtle twitch in the tendons that would occur right before he fired.
Even the tiny wrinkle that formed at the corner of Jackâs left eye just before shooting.
Oscar read all these signs and made his move.
âNow.â
As Jackâs finger squeezed the trigger, at almost the exact same instant, Oscar cast his spell. And it wasnât the acceleration magic Jack had been wary of.
ãDurability Enhancementã, ãFriction Reductionã
The spells Oscar cast strengthened the durability and reduced the friction of an object.
And the target of these spells was none other thanâ¦
âA shield?â
Jackâs eyes widened in shock.
The bullet, fired like a streak of light, glanced off the slanted shield and flew off into the night sky.
âDamn it! Reload. I need to reload quicklyâ¦!â
Jack hurriedly backed away, frantically trying to reload his gun.
But his average reload time was 1.24 seconds.
âMeanwhile, it will take me only 1.08 seconds to reach you.â
Grimacing through the pain of his tearing leg muscles, Oscar swiftly closed the distance.
Hhe extended two fingers, aiming at Jack's chin.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âN-No...!â
Jack's eyes widened in terror, like a lantern being lit. At the same time, magic gathered at his fingertips.
ãWind Bullet.ã
Thud! Splat!
Blood sprayed like a fountain, decorating the air.
âGuh⦠Grrk.â
Jack stumbled backward like a newborn deer before collapsing, lifeless.
âHuffâ¦â
Oscar, who was staring down at the corpse, wasnât in great shape either.
âNo more acceleration for a while.â
The side effects of using acceleration twice on an incomplete body were severe.
The veins in his legs were torn apart, enough to require at least two weeks just for recovery.
âI probably wonât be able to run; walking slowly will be my limit.â
But he couldn't afford to pass out and collapse here.
The battle wasnât over yet.
âI initially sensed four presences.â
Only three enemies had come to the cabin, and there were no other presences nearby.
This could only mean one thing.
âPlease hold on.â
The remaining one was pursuing Fran and Ivan.
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
* * *
âHuff, huff!â
Franâs heavy breathing echoed as he climbed the mountain trail.
Even in such a state, he made sure to look out for Ivan, who was running alongside him.
âDon't... huff... Don't worry about me. I'll protect you.â
â...â
Ivan gave him a dubious look.
âIâm fine. Iâm confident in my stamina... But are you alright?â
âHuff, huff. To be honest, my stamina... isn't the bestâ¦â
As he desperately thought of a refreshing drink of water, Fran suddenly stopped.
Ivan, following behind, asked,
âShall we rest for a bit if youâre tired?â
âNo, I didnât stop because Iâm tired.â
Fran, after catching his breath, spoke with a serious expression.
âMister, run as fast as you can down the right side path from here. Donât look back, no matter what.â
âWhat are you talking about...?â
âWell, well, you've got a better sense than you look.â
A slim man stepped out from behind a large tree ahead, his steps leisurely.
He glanced Fran up and down and smirked.
âHonestly, itâs surprising. You look so weak that I didnât think youâd notice my presence.â
â...â
Fran cast a quick glance at Ivan, who hadnât yet left.
âHurry up.â
âBut... what about you?â
âIâm quite strong. And more importantly, with you here, I canât fight freely.â
Ivan nodded heavily at this cold statement, implying he would be a hindrance.
âIf that's the reason... Fine. Donât die.â
Ivan disappeared quickly down the side path, but the man didnât pursue him; he just stood there.
Fran squinted his eyes at the manâs casual demeanor and asked,
âAre you here to target me?â
âHah! What a joke. Who do you think you are?â
The man chuckled, glancing at the direction Ivan had fled.
âMy target is that old man. But Iâve never killed a mage from the Four Great Towers before.â
His curious gaze fixed on Fran as if he were a target.
âIâve always wondered whatâs so special about the mages from the Four Great Towers that everyone fears them so much.â
â...â
âSo Iâll kill you first, then chase down that old man at my leisure.â
Finishing his explanation, the man smirked, licking his lips.
âThat should be enough... explanation, right?â
With that, the man's figure stretched out like a piece of taffy, closing the distance instantly.
Fran, seeing the opponent rapidly approaching, calmly cast a spell.
ãWind Cutterã
Two blades of wind shot forward.
Clang! Clang!
The swordsman parried the attack while rushing forward, reaching Fran in the blink of an eye.
As he relished the look of surprise on Franâs face, he thrust his sword at the unprotected heart.
The blade shot forward like a flash, piercing Franâs heart.
â...What?â
The swordsmanâs face stiffened.
With the experience of having killed dozens of people, he knew something was off.
The sensation of piercing a human heart should never feel this light.
âThis is like...!â
A ghost.
Yes, it was like stabbing a phantom monster.
âSomethingâs wrong.â
Realizing that the situation had taken a turn, the swordsman tried to pull back quickly.
Whoosh!
Fran grabbed the swordsman's nape and slit his throat with a Wind Cutter.
âGah! Grrkâ¦!â
The swordsman's eyes widened, bloodshot and filled with confusionâWhy? How?
âIâm sorry.â
Fran spoke in a calm voice, devoid of mockery.
The swordsman, trying to ask why he was apologizing, suddenly fell silent.
As he stumbled backward, he finally understood.
âThis guyâs... body?â
The area around Franâs chest was hollow, like a gaping hole where only the wind swirled.
Clearly, it wasnât a hole caused by his sword thrust.
âHeh, hehe.â
The swordsman chuckled like a madman.
He realized why he had lost this fight and why Fran had apologized.
âThis bastard... is a rare-type mage.â
A mage who could transform parts of their body into the windâa formidable ability.
At the moment when the sword was about to pierce the heart, he must have turned that part of his body into wind.
â...â
It wasnât that he lacked talent, or that he hadnât tried hard enough.
It was just luck.
The reason he would die tonight was simply because he had encountered a rare-type mage.
âDamn Four Great Towers...â
Suddenly, a piece of advice heâd once overheard at a tavern resurfaced in his mind.
âIf you want to live long in this line of work, never get involved with those Four Great Tower guys. The place is filled with all sorts of prodigies and mysterious beings.â
With a deep sense of futility, the light faded from the swordsmanâs eyes.
* * *
âWell, I didnât see this coming.â
A gun's barrel lowered slowly from behind a shaded tree in the mountains.
Oscarâs eyes took on a strange look.
âWho wouldâve thought that Fran was a rare-type mage?â
Rare-type magic was already far from ordinary, but Fran's magic was especially unique.
âTo think Iâd actually witness that spell.â
It was a magic he had only ever seen in ancient texts, one he had doubted had ever existed.
Perhaps no one else in this world knew about it.
â...Wind Sovereign (FÅ«haku).â
That was the unique magic belonging to the Seventh Tower Master of the past, a rare magic type.
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]