Speaking was painful. Every ti his lungs expanded as he breathed, all the burns on his torso hurt. He had only gotten this injured because he had tried to protect Calan and the guards behind him.
A few monts of silence ensued.
“All of you, leave! Whoever stays behind will face the full wrath of the Vaard family!” Calan’s voice echoed. Rylan glanced back at him. He donned an expression full of complicated emotions, but Rylan could see that he ant his words. Nobody would stay behind to hinder him. He would be able to fight freely. He turned back to Evenon, unwilling to let the man out of his sight for more than a second.
The loud sound of dozens of footsteps resounded, decreasing over ti. The people were moving away from the battle. Soon, all that remained was the whistle of the wind, which made Rylan’s injuries hurt even more. His whole body trembled. There was no ti to consider what the people would say about his combat prowess. If he didn't focus entirely on the enemy in front of him, he would lose. Even if rumors started to spread - as they probably would - all he could do was deal with them as they ca.
Evenon rested the staff atop his right shoulder and looked at the crippled left one, then back at Rylan.
“I have no idea how you managed to do everything you have so far, but I suppose this is your limit. Even an aberration like you must have one. How did you change? Who are you? You aren't the sa person I know.”
Rylan didn’t bother with replying. He heaved. The situation was overwhelmingly disadvantageous. He was up against a Fourth Circle Mage whose fire spells were empowered by a powerful weapon. His injuries were severe, and he was having trouble with rely standing upright. His vision blurred because of the pain, while his heart thumped. However, he smiled.
This brings back mories.
Of course, they were mories of his past life. Roland had faced countless dire scenarios where the odds were overwhelmingly against him. In the end, he had co out on top in every single one of them. He wasn’t a stranger to a battle like this. Even if his body was weak and his abilities were severely limited by the lack of Skills and Titles, he was still the Sword Saint. To survive this, he needed to fully embody Roland’s experience. No, he needed to go beyond that. He needed to integrate both lives.
Rylan took a deep breath and looked at the sky.
“Have you accepted death? I won’t make it too painful as a way of thanking all that we’ve been through,” Evenon said, raising the staff.
Rylan pointed his left index finger at him.
“Magic Missile.”
His razor-sharp mind managed to cast the spell much faster than all other tis he had attempted it. The Missile flew toward Evenon, aiming straight for his eyes. The man raised an eyebrow. It didn’t matter that the Shield was still up. This spell’s main purpose was to hinder Evenon’s vision.
Now.
He dashed forward while using Drifting. He sped up a mont before the Missile crashed against Evenon’s Shield. The small gathering of mana fell apart, failing to deal any damage. It crumbled into particles right in front of Evenon’s eyes. With this, it achieved its purpose. Rylan reduced the distance between them to a single ter before Evenon moved. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he slashed diagonally. Naturally, the attack failed to pierce through the Shield, but that only ant that he needed to attack the sa spot more tis.
Even the rain can whittle down a rock over ti.
Thrusts applied more pressure than slashes and cuts. As long as he kept hitting the sa area over and over, the Shield would weaken just enough to allow him to use a Sword Art and kill Evenon. However, if Evenon kept feeding mana into the Shield even at the expense of his own attacks, this would turn into a contest of endurance that Rylan would surely lose. He didn’t have nearly as much mana as a Fourth Circle Mage.
He won’t choose that path.
The reason was simple; both of them knew that, at this very mont, Gerard was heading to this place. Even though Evenon was wielding a powerful staff and was a Fourth Circle Mage capable of dual casting, he wasn’t Gerard’s opponent. Evenon had spent his last few years as the head of a gang without a single battle, while Gerard was a battlemage renowned in the entire region, who had also reached the Fifth Circle. Rylan seed to have brought Evenon’s fighting instincts back to life, but it wouldn’t be nearly enough. He needed to end this battle quickly if he wanted to bring Rylan down with him.
Breathe.
As if to confirm his thoughts, flas surged around Evenon. The man spoke.
“Fire Ring.”
Rylan lowered his center of gravity.
Falling Snow Steps: Floating.
As the ring expanded, he leapt right over it, almost as if he were being pulled upward by a mysterious force. The flas spread out, scorching the walls of the nearby buildings and setting a few of them on fire, including Evenon’s own building. They failed to touch even the bottom of Rylan’s damaged boots. Evenon looked at him as he fell, stabbing downward. The blade collided with the part of the Shield that covered Evenon’s throat. It was his target.
Instead of waiting to fall slowly, Rylan pushed his foot against Evenon’s head, speeding up his descent.
The Shield protects him from my attacks, but not from their force.
He rembered how he had sent Gerard flying with Thunderbolt. The sa had happened to Evenon at the start of this battle, but to a lesser extent. It was likely because Evenon had put more mana into his Shield than Gerard, as they had been sparring back then. An idea sprouted.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Evenon raised his staff. The red crystal glowed.
“Fire Tornado!”
Flas surged in a circle around Rylan. Before they could truly rise and lock him inside, he jumped over them with Floating. The small hurricane of fire took shape, spinning and scorching the ground, but he was no longer there.
Concentrate. Rember your past life.
It was as if he had entered so type of trance. He advanced and retreated at the perfect tis, avoiding almost all of Evenon’s spells. This battle was the only thing that mattered. His breathing was stable, despite the pain. His steps were firm. Every slash and thrust was executed with precision, but also deadly ferocity. As his senses reached their peak, his body was starting to reach its limits. He hadn’t had the ti to properly develop his physical strength. However…
I can do this.
It was the unshakable confidence of a man who had once reached the world’s peak. His eyes analyzed all of Evenon’s movents, from his breathing to the twitches of his fingers. Everything was processed at blinding speed, then turned into a course of action. This was a fight where he needed to keep choosing correctly with each passing second. There was no room for mistakes or even slightly worse options. He needed to choose the best possible path, every single ti. But this only made him feel alive. It had been too long since he had truly been at the boundary between life and death.
Evenon unceasingly chanted, casting spell after spell. Flas scorched the ground and buildings, burning everything in their way. Rylan used Drifting, Floating, and Wind as he needed to, avoiding most of them. His current self's limitations ant that he couldn't avoid injuries. He only had room to make them less severe. Slowly, as he got progressively more tired, the burns started piling up.
Pillars of fire and fla snakes rose from the ground, trying to wrap themselves around Rylan’s body. Projectiles and Fireballs were thrown with wild abandon. Their surroundings got increasingly damaged as the flas washed over them. Buildings collapsed under their own weight as the fire burned their columns and scorched the ground black.
Thankfully, it seed that Calan had been able to effectively evacuate the area. Even if he hadn’t, it was too late to think about that. The damage was spreading, since Rylan still couldn’t completely neutralize Evenon’s spells. His condition wasn’t too different from the environnt around him. The burns only hurt more as ti passed. Every muscle in his body trembled and scread at him to stop moving. It was difficult, much more than he had initially expected this battle to be. His body started to stop responding to his commands. He was on his last legs.
In mid-air, as he jumped over a wave of flas aiming for his legs, he pointed at Evenon.
“Magic Missile.”
The small arrow of mana shot at the man’s eyes. This ti, Evenon swung his staff, destroying the Missile before it could hit the Shield, but all Rylan had needed was to buy himself a bit of ti to land back on the ground and keep running. More spells ca his way, only for him to dodge out of the way. He took full advantage of the Falling Snow Steps’ low mana cost and physical burden.
The rate at which Evenon cast his spells increased, but none of them cleanly connected. Sweat flowed down his brow. Rylan kept dashing around, taking advantage of every possible gap to target the Shield over Evenon’s throat and making the spells only graze him. New burns appeared over the 'old' ones. Soon, he wouldn’t have enough mana to cast another Sword Art. Both combatants seed to be reaching their limits, even if Evenon still had a large amount of mana.
Fighting in a battle like this isn’t just about resources.
It was possible that Evenon had never experienced such a high-pace battle, given that his opponents had also been other Mages. The burden of choosing the right options every second that passed was ntally draining. Having more mana didn’t an certain victory, even if the gap was so large.
Rylan threw away all useless thoughts. He focused only on this mont alone. Roland’s mories’ whispers led him without the need to think. Even in this body with no muscle mory, he was still capable of keeping up.
An attack seamlessly flowed into the next one, repeatedly targeting the surface protecting Evenon’s throat. With every slash and thrust, Rylan felt himself make just a little bit more progress. He didn’t stop even as his muscles scread at him, burnt and exhausted. He needed patience. His mont would arrive. He needed to ignore the agony he was in and ready himself to take advantage of the opportunity that he was creating.
The battle went on.
It happened suddenly. Rylan’s heightened senses captured it in an instant.
As Rylan’s thrust reached the sa area for the umpteenth ti, there was a change. A slight crack appeared, minute as it was. His eyes widened. This was it. Unhesitatingly, another attack fell on the crack, making it bigger. Nevertheless, Evenon didn't stay still. Mana gathered around him and burned to life, ready to react.
If I do this, he'll kill too.
There was no way Evenon hadn't noticed the flaw in his own defensive spell, but he likely knew he wasn't faster than Rylan. The mana gathering around him represented his intent to kill Rylan, even if it ant death.
Mutual destruction, huh? So be it.
Rylan knew it was his duty to get rid of Evenon. There was no need to think too much about whether he'd survive this clash himself; Evenon's death was his only goal.
This was the single deciding mont. Hesitating for even a mont would an that Evenon would survive. To succeed, he needed his sword to reach the man's neck before the fire burned the life out of him.
Still, he didn’t need to think too much. With two hands on the hilt, his mana roared. The flas reached him, creating new burns over his old ones.
Stormcaller Sword Style, Second Movent: Crackling Edge.
His mana circulated, also flowing into his weapon. The sword resonated with it, humming, even though he didn’t have Aura. Naturally, the effects would be much lesser, but they were enough as they were.
At that mont, a layer of red mana took shape above Rylan's skin. The fire was pushed away, failing to lt through it. From it, he could feel a familiar, warm mana. He smiled.
Rylan looked into Evenon’s eyes. The man was staring at the red Shield. Frozen in this mont, only the two of them existed.
Die.
A horizontal slash cut through the air with the sound of rumbling thunder as a wave of fire wrapped itself around Rylan. Mana covered the edge of the blade, moving as if it were lightning. It dug into the gap created by the crack in the Shield, then imdiately reached Evenon’s neck. The skin was split apart before the blade even arrived. Muscles, blood vessels, and bone were severed in less than a second. It was as if ti had only just begun to flow normally. Evenon’s head was sent flying through the air, spinning with a grinning expression as the light left its eyes. Rylan looked at it as it fell.
It was over.
All strength left his body as he fell backward and let out a breath. Before he touched the ground, two large hands caught him. His blurry vision looked at the face of the one who had caught him. A handso middle-aged man with black hair and blue eyes was looking at him with a grin. However, the man couldn’t hide his concerned eyes. He was visibly worried.
“Wonderful work. I’ll take it from here.”
Rylan smiled at Gerard, then promptly closed his eyes. He didn't have enough energy to thank his father for the Shield.
This was rely the start of the second chapter.
He felt himself drift off into sleep as System notifications rang out in his mind.
[You have acquired a new Title.]
[You have slain Evenon Bled (Level 48).]
[You have reached Level 25.]
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