The first clash.
Both raised their swords high and brought them down with all their strength, the blades colliding head-on.
Sharp. Fast. As if tracing a predetermined line.
The magic compressed into their bodies and weapons reached its limit, and the resulting shockwave shook the surrounding trees.
With a piercing metallic ring, they locked blades.
And in that moment, the difference between their swords became clear.
Chrono’s sword was dull.
A lump of gray iron that looked cheap at a glance—low-purity steel, crudely made. Probably something picked up from a random weapons shop, with no merit beyond its low price.
It wasn’t suited for cutting.
More for smashing—though not particularly durable, either.
In contrast, Arios’s sword was exceptional.
The difference was obvious. Unmistakable.
It wasn’t even made of iron, but mithril—a resilient silver metal with an extraordinary affinity for magic.
And it was clearly forged from high-quality material by a master craftsman.
A blade sharp enough to sink deep into rock with a single strike.
And beyond that—
「！」
As their locked blades held in equilibrium, the balance suddenly broke.
A gust of wind erupted from Arios’s sword, blasting Chrono backward.
It wasn’t Arios casting a spell. Magic always required both a formula and mana—and Chrono had only sensed the latter.
He understood immediately.
“A magic tool…!”
“Ooooooooh!!”
Magic required both mana and a formula.
Mana was simple—like paint. There were subtle differences between individuals, like fingerprints, and a range of “colors,” but not enough to matter much.
Formulas, on the other hand, were different. They were the methods—the means of shaping magic.
Magic circles and incantations were common, but there were also dances, music, even written scripts. The result might be the same, but the path taken could differ greatly.
Like art—brushes, sand, engraving, bare hands. The method changes everything.
Magic tools were one such method.
By engraving a formula into an object and supplying it with mana, magic could be activated automatically.
But creating one required immense skill: engraving complex formulas into limited space, ensuring the weapon remained durable after casting, and using materials that wouldn’t break under heavy mana flow.
Even a cheap one would cost several months of a commoner’s salary.
“Haaah!!”
Chrono recovered instantly after being blown back.
As Arios pressed the attack, Chrono calmly analyzed him.
That sword—it wasn’t just a simple magic tool.
The formulas engraved into the blade likely included durability enhancement, sharpness enhancement, physical reinforcement, sensory enhancement… and the wind blast just used.
Five formulas.
That alone made it a treasure-class weapon.
「！」
Each strike grew heavier.
Chrono could manage—but barely.
His stance wasn’t ideal either.
At this rate, he’d lose.
“…! Ngh—!”
He minimized his movements, enduring, waiting for an opening.
A wide diagonal slash from the right.
Chrono slipped past it and slammed his shoulder into Arios.
The impact forced distance between them.
In that brief moment, Chrono steadied himself and cast:
“Lightning!”
A proper cast—not like Arios’s earlier shortcut.
The bolt shot forward faster than sound.
Impossible to dodge. Impossible to block.
It struck the instant it was cast.
And yet—
「……！」
Arios stood unharmed.
He had raised his sword and blocked it.
Normally, the current would travel through the metal—but he had coated the blade in mana, dispersing the attack.
Not just the weapon.
Skill.
And at an astonishing level.
「……」
“OOOOOH!”
Their blades clashed again.
If anything, Chrono had a slight edge in technique.
The fact that his dull blade could match a magic sword was due to his ingenuity.
Even so, Arios couldn’t overwhelm him through swordsmanship alone.
Chrono kicked mid-exchange.
Arios read it, dodged, and countered with a downward slash.
Chrono parried, softened the ground beneath Arios with magic, and swung upward.
Arios sensed it at the last second, hardened the ground, and thrust for his throat.
A relentless exchange of skill and strength.
A battle so intense it felt like they knew each other completely.
Arios’s flawless, orthodox swordsmanship.
Chrono’s practical, experience-forged style built to win.
Both admirable.
Both flawed.
“Oooooooo!!!”
The gap in ability had vanished.
The difference in skill was minimal.
They were evenly matched.
That sword…
It was terrifying.
Even nobles couldn’t easily acquire something like it.
Combined with Arios’s talent, it brought him to incredible heights.
Chrono no longer had the luxury he once did.
Still—
(Wind magic doesn’t suit him.)
Chrono already knew Arios’s affinities.
Fire first. Earth second. Wind third. Water last.
He could use all at a high level—but wind wasn’t his strength.
Usable, but not mastered. The source of this chapter is g.com.
If it were, that earlier attack would’ve slammed Chrono into the ground beyond recovery.
A weapon you can’t fully control isn’t that frightening.
Troublesome—but nothing more.
Chrono raised his sword—
“!? What—!?”
“Fall!”
The ground beneath him split open.
No casting sign from Arios.
Too sudden to react.
His right leg was trapped.
A sickening crack echoed through his body.
Gritting his teeth, he deflected, dodged, blocked—
“GAAAH!!”
He tore his leg free by force— and cast:
“Flame Javelin.”
Dozens of flaming spears, imbued with piercing force.
Lethal.
But—
“Useless.”
A thick wall of water appeared instantly, extinguishing them.
No casting signature.
That sword again.
“I won’t lose. Not again. I won’t disgrace myself. I’ll win—no matter what it takes.”
The blade glowed.
No—burned.
Flames wrapped around it.
Each swing scattered fire, forming a wall around Chrono.
No escape.
“How do I look to you?”
“……”
“A villain? A beast driven by spite? Fine. Better that than being nothing to you.”
His gaze burned.
Like the flames surrounding him.
“You ignored me. My pride, shattered by that, won’t be restored unless I defeat you. This humiliation won’t fade until I force you to your knees.”
His voice sounded like it came from the depths of hell.
For the first time—
Chrono felt fear.
“Die.”
「……！」
Everything exceeded his expectations.
The sword.
His injuries.
And above all—
Arios’s obsession.
“…damn it.”