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Terminal Fantasy

Chapter 82 / 127

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Chapter 82

Terminal Fantasy

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‘I get that life in the big city moves fast, but this is getting too fast, even for my liking.’

I arrived less than 4 days ago, and already I went through one potentially life-threatening fight against a small gang, a life-and-death fight against a stronger gang and a level 3 Path-bearer, and now, while I still haven't fully recovered from my blood loss (even with my 2nd realm Endurance), I had to win what was essentially a 1 on 3 battle.

“Are you certain you want to go through with this?”

“Hmm?”

“Don't get me wrong – I won't allow any killing blows during the fight, or cheap shots afterwards. Still, if you lose this one, despite the inherent unfairness of this battle, it won't be a good look – especially if it's too one-sided.”

“You don't have to worry about me. But please keep an eye out for Jerold over here. I know this type of assholes – they might try to injure him on purpose, and as a Wizard, his body isn't that durable.”

“H-hey! I'll be f-fine. Please don't worry on my account, sir trainer.”

“It doesn't matter. Like I said, I'll prevent anything lethal, and the Sun Priest nearby can prevent any permanent injuries with a timely heal.”

“...t-thanks.”

Right now, me and Jerold (mainly me) were putting on our training gear. John, the Slayer trainer, was there to oversee us, and a few of the onlookers decided to tag along as well, standing near the building's exit, just out of ears reach.

I had already drunk half a stamina potion from one of the sealed vials I bought recently. Thankfully, almost everyone could identify them as being from the alchemy shop, especially with the seals still intact, so there were no accusations to be thrown around.

Also, it was a good thing that long enough time had passed since my morning fight, as I was slightly wary of a potential backlash due to the toxin buildup from drinking the whole stamina potion much earlier today.

If anything, the 5 gold were my only real loss right now, but it was an acceptable one for the increased victory chance.

‘Well, I don't really need to win this - if I lose, besides a likely beating, the only thing I'd lose would be some... Well, maybe a lot of respect within the guild.’

However, despite knowing I could have probably walked away without facing any immediate consequences, I decided I'd rather deal with this here and now, nipping this scheme in the bud in the most direct way possible.

Honestly, I didn't know what having a bad reputation within the guild would entail, but that's precisely why I wanted to avoid it.

Well, that, and I also didn't want to give that stuck up half-elf trainer the satisfaction. Not when I knew I had a chance to win, putting the slanderous rumors to rest before they could take root.

“Anyway, Jerold… you sure none of your other spells can be used for combat?”

Lowering my voice, it was time to discuss the game plan.

“Erm.. I’m pretty sure…”

His sunken expression radiated despair.

“I can channel Minor Metal Manipulation, as well as the same water spell, and I'm pretty close to finishing the Minor Earth Manipulation spell, as well. None of those can be used for combat, though.”

“Why? I think there could be a way-”

“They all require touch, standing in place and concentrating on the spell. They are also far slower than combat variants. And at my level, I might not even be able to manipulate the training gear metals.”

The young wizard sighed.

“I told you – I'm training to be an artificer. None of my spells are tailored for combat.. besides Minor Barrier, of course.”

“Hmm…”

This did sound useless in a high-paced fighting environment without preparation. However, I didn't give up.

“What about cantrips? Do you know any?”

“I know Mage Hand and Mage Threads, as well as Light Orb”

“What’s Mage Threads?”

I’ve seen the first one in action, and Light Orb was considered the most basic cantrip, and was actually my current practice target. However, I’ve never heard of the 2nd one.

“It’s a bit similar to Mage Hand, but instead, you create thin tendrils at the end of your fingers. This can be used for fine manipulation, but completely useless in a fight.”

“Hmm.. could you detonate a Light Orb to create a flare?”

“Ha, that's some sharp thinking. If you weren't a Slayer, I bet you’d make a good Wizard.”

“...”

“Unfortunately, no. What you described is called Minor Flare, a 1st Tier spell that actually has Light Orb as a half-prerequisite. I never actually studied it, though.”

“I see.. by the way, what's a half-prerequisite?”

“It means learning Light Orb first makes learning Minor Flare easier.”

“Ok… hmm…”

“Are you two ready yet? I think everyone out there would start getting impatient just about now.”

“I.. Just one more minute. Jerold, how much weight can your Mage Hand lift?”

“A stack of papers.. a small stone, maybe. Anything over 1kg would be too heavy for me, I think.”

“Does the weight affect its speed?”

“Yes. The heavier the object, the slower the hand.”

“Distance?”

“It should just about cover the arena. Although it'll require a lot of concentration once it gets too far. I think about two-thirds of the way in it will start getting slower and weaker, down to around half its strength and speed at the edge.”

“Hmm.. and the speed?”

“I’m not very good with it, but not terrible, either. I think I can thrust it at around 3 meters per second, while more controlled movement would have half the speed.”

“Assuming it's empty?”

“Or nearly empty - like carrying a single paper sheet.”

“Hmm- Oh! Listen…”

I hastily whispered my idea in his ear.

“Ah! I.. I think it can actually work!”

The wizard's sunken expression sprang back to life.

“I’m not sure I can keep my concentration if I have to dodge, though.”

“That’s fine. If you can keep their focus on you, even one of them, that would be more than enough.”

“I can protect myself with a Minor Barrier if one of them goes for me. That could buy you 10, maybe 15 seconds.”

“That’s more than enough.”

I turned my head toward John.

“One last thing before we begin. Jerold is entitled to bring a basic spell reagent? Like bringing a flask of water if he intends to cast Ice Blade or something?”

“As long as it's something basic, like water.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Although casting Ice Blades would disqualify him from this spar, not to mention this is a 2nd or 3rd Tier spell.”

“That’s fine, it's nothing of the sort. Actually, to avoid any disputes, can you fill this pouch with the reagent yourself?”

“Is it something I can get around here?”

“Don’t worry. There's plenty of it all around.”

“By all means, then.”

“Alright. We'll wait for you at the arena, then.”

I stood up, giving Jerold a cheerful smile. He flashed a faint smile in return, still worried, but clearly less-so than before.

“Let’s go. We have a fight to win.”

***

“Took your time. Did you sneak in another potion, perhaps?”

“Under the watchful eye of a Guild trainer and this small crowd? Did you grow delirious while we were gone?”

“Tsk. Your bones will soon answer for your filthy lowborn mouth.”

“Su~ure thing, Archibald.”

I couldn't help but look at him with the most shit-eating grin I ever wore in this world.

“...”

His face contorted in disdain, and Brandon beside him narrowed his eyes, but none of them said a word.

“Here you go.”

The trainer, John, hastily made his way over to Jerold, handing him a heavy pouch.

“Hey, what is that?”

The young master spearman did not sound pleased. My grin grew wider.

“That’s a legal spell reagent. The trainer collected it himself, so he can attest it’s not forbidden.”

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“Spell reagent?..”

The archer's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Don’t worry, ‘young master’ Archibald. You'll find out what it is soon enough.”

Before the battle had even started, this had become increasingly more entertaining.

“Pff.. what a pathetic bluff.”

The young noble's expression relaxed, and the suspicion in his eyes gave way to renewed disdain.

“You think we wouldn’t know who your teammate is? ‘Spellless Jerold’, they call him. Weak trash doing solo errands that shouldn't even be posted at the Guild. Nobody would be foolish enough to add such luggage to their party.”

The other noble chuckled with a mocking smirk, and a few snorts could be heard from the crowd.

“Well, if you're done yapping, how about he shows you what he can do, himself?”

I drew my training sword, already standing on the far edge of the 20-meter wide arena.

On the opposite side, the trio readied their weapons (and shield) as well.

“Ready?”

Everyone nodded almost simultaneously.

“Then, on my mark… begin!”

The opponents quickly shifted into their formation, with which they were clearly well familiar – the archer stayed at the back, while the spearmen stayed behind the party tank, as both rushed forward.

The pair did not target the wizard, running instead to intercept me, as I darted to the right, attempting to circle around them.

Meanwhile, Jerold cast Mage Hand… which reached straight into the pouch, and quickly came out with a fistful of the substance inside.

“Ignore him!”

Reiterating the core of their strategy, Archibald released the arrow from his bow – one which had been shimmering with faint teal light.

The arrow flew towards me, its trajectory bending slightly to adjust to my movement.

‘A nice warmup.’

Compared to Oxilor's skills, or even Zod's attacks, this was a joke. However, it was still a fast-moving Skill.

Just as the arrow was released, I dug my feet in the ground, halting my dash. Due to the momentum, I had to bend my knees, and still slid forward for half a second – enough time for the arrow to cover half the distance.

I jumped back with all my strength.

The arrow tried to adjust mid-flight, and might have hit my arm, had I not swatted it farther to the side with my sword, something made possible due to my combination of multiple 2nd realm Attributes, hours upon hours of practice and practical experience.

The archer opened his eyes in surprise, yet did not lose his composure, and began advancing forward, keeping roughly a 6 meter distance behind his teammates.

Meanwhile, the Mage Hand, ignored by all, continued making its way through the air.

“Eat this, you filth!”

Brandon, rotating his spear’s shaft until the head became a circular blur, launched an attack over the half-dwarf’s shoulder.

However, while the spearhead, with air shifting strangely in its path, appeared blurry to most onlookers, I had no trouble keeping up with its motion.

As it approached my chest, going past my blade, I released my left hand's grip on the sword, while stepping to the right and turning my body.

‘They… aren't that strong?’

In the next moment, before he could withdraw the spear, my free hand tightened around its shaft in an iron grip.

The young master's eyes opened wide, in a mix of surprise and fear, as his attempt to pull back the spear with both hands could not overpower my one-armed hold.

‘They might have decent Attributes, but their fighting style.. it lacks… something.’

Forget Zod, even his two subordinates, the ones who owned the Imperial Hounds, felt far more dangerous than this trio, despite their actual strength and speed feeling roughly the same.

‘I think it's desperation. Or hunger.’

At the same time, two things happened – the half-dwarf charged forward, intending to ram me with a shield Skill of his, and Archibald used the same arrow Skill once again.

Bang

!

I leaped up while letting go of the shaft, causing the spearman to awkwardly stumble backwards, and used both legs to perform something akin to a dropkick.

However, while I did manage to send the dwarf stumbling back as well, the real goal was to leap (or perhaps ‘be sent flying’) backwards at an incredible speed, covering two meters almost instantly.

Of course, I was already relatively far from the edge, so there was no risk of falling outside.

As for the arrow, the trajectory change wasn't fast enough, being a bit slower than the elf’s, and it helplessly struck the ground in front of my feet, as I twisted my body to roll on the ground and stand up.

‘I could probably end it myself, even in this condition. Still, let's see if it works, first.’

“Plan B!”

I did not know what their plan was, and I didn't care enough to wait for them to reveal it. Instead, I glanced up, at the mage hand that nearly made its way to the target…

[Charge] !

I finally used my skill, positioning myself a few meters right of the dwarf.

The archer’s stance began shifting as I arrived at my endpoint. Just as predicted, Archibald was taught a movement skill as well, its range likely just enough to get behind the dwarf once again, keeping the tank between me and him.

However, at the same time, the Mage Hand had already begun its rapid descent, outside of Archibald’s field of view.

Half a second later, it popped into his vision from above, opening its fist and releasing a cloud of dust straight into his face.

“W-

cough

!”

The surprise ‘attack’ managed to interrupt his skill preparation. In truth, I was already preparing to change my course of action in case he still managed to use it, but it was no longer going to be the case.

[Charge Thrust] !

It went without saying that, just like the edges, the tip of my sword was also blunt.

Still, realizing the sheer force of the skill could still cause significant damage even with a blunt weapon, I refrained from aiming at the head or chest.

Crack

!

Upon colliding with his right shoulder, I could hear the bone getting dislocated, perhaps even fractured.

The young noble’s hand was thrown back like a ragdoll, and while he managed to barely stay on his feet, his face contorted in pain.

“Aaaargh!”

He dropped his bow and dropped to one knee, gripping his right arm with his left hand.

“Priest! Archibald out!”

John made the call without hesitation, and the Sun Priest rushed in, amidst the hushed murmurs of the crowd.

I turned to face the two remaining enemies – the half-dwarf, who wore a grim expression, and the young noble, whose fear seemed to have been suppressed by his rage.

“You bast-”

“We concede.”

The attendant blocked Brandon's path with his shield, his eyes still glued to the archer, whose shoulder bone was just forcibly returned to its socket by the priest, evoking more pained cries.

“You!.. You can't decide-”

“I can, and I did. Unfortunately, I failed to keep the young master safe. Without him, this fight is over.”

The young spearman, fuming with rage, opened his mouth, but the half-dwarf had already lowered his shield and mace, striding towards his fallen master.

“We won!”

Jerold’s exhilarated shout came from behind me.

“You! This isn't over!”

After throwing a murderous gaze at the half-dwarf, the spearman's eyes turned towards me.

“You’re free to continue, if you'd like. I also thought this ended too quickly.”

I casually spun the sword in my hand, before resuming a battle stance.

However, Brandon was in no rush to raise his spear again.

“Not going to come?”

In response to my question, the fear in his eyes finally began eclipsing his rage.

“If you're not conceding, then I guess I can come at you!”

I raised my sword in a forward-facing angle just below my right shoulder…

“I concede!”

Finally, what I wanted to hear. His voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

I threw a glance at John, who was giving me a slightly disappointed look, and shrugged my shoulders.

I wasn't actually going to injure him just for the sake of it, but I did need the message to be well-received, to avoid dealing with this type of crap again.

“I..! My father will hear about this!..”

The concoction of emotions in Brandon's voice brought me a small measure of joy on this tedious day.

“Haven’t you embarrassed your father enough? Scram, and don't let me see you ever again.”

With a cold gaze, I watched Brandon grind his teeth, giving me a look so filled with hatred that it managed to overcome both his fear and shame for a moment, before turning around and storming off.

I had a feeling that if I stayed in the city long enough, this wouldn’t be the last time I heard of him. Still, hopefully, this would be the last time I'd have to accept one of those stupid challenges.

Judging by the hushed whispers of the disparaging crowd, my reputation as a cheater has just been cleared, although the new image was not necessarily a positive one, either.

“Erm.. I.. guess I'll be going?”

Watching Jerold’s expression turn awkward, I couldn't help but feel a bit of embarrassment myself. I might have gone a bit overboard with the last bit.

“Ahh.. sure, if you wish. Sorry again – you getting dragged into this mess was largely my fault. If I can make it up somehow, please let me know.”

“Oh, no, no! Those guys have been bullying the newbies for months – I was one of their favorites, even though I don't frequently visit the guild. So this really isn't your fault! If anything, I owe you for standing up to them.”

I could feel he meant what he said, although the fear beneath the surface remained.

“Well, if any of them gives you trouble, please tell me.”

I also meant what I said – it wouldn’t feel right having this guy targeted just because I decided to teach those brats a lesson with him coincidentally getting dragged into this.

“I.. alright, sure. Thanks, Sebastian!”

With a nod, I turned my head towards the other person who still remained in the arena after the crowd dispersed.

It wasn't Archibald, who was helped to the nearby stands by his attendant, and was still being treated by the priest. Instead, it was none other than the arbiter of our short match.

“Go on. Tell me that I shouldn't have taken it this far.”

I didn’t need 19 Awareness to decipher his admonishing gaze.

However, at my remark, he unexpectedly moved – charging right at me!

Out of pure reflex, I bent my knees, turning 45 degrees to the right..

[Charge] !

As I moved a few meters past and behind him, I didn't take my eyes off of him.

To my surprise, not only did his eyes follow my movement, but his whole body turned with almost the same speed.

Then, his figure shot towards me, clearly using some skill as well.

I raised my arms defensively, only to have him grab them with an iron grip.

All the while, his eyes were locked with mine, filled with an unexpected emotion – pity.

I tried to use my leg to kick him away, but was blocked by his knee. I couldn't free my arms, either. Although it felt almost possible, his strength (or rather, Strength) felt just a bit too high to break even through this awkward hold.

“Do you know how much an hour of my time is worth?”

His voice was surprisingly calm.

“What is.. this? Some… aggressive sales tactic?”

“10 gold coins. 15 if it's something annoying, 25 if it's something dangerous. When I still took commissions, a 1-day job could range anywhere between 100 and 400 gold, give or take.”

His tone was soft, and he sounded as if he was lecturing a child.

“What’s… your.. point?”

I stopped struggling to break free, using all my strength just to maintain the stalemate. Suddenly, he released his grip.

“For someone like me, being asked to kill someone of your strength would fall between the last two categories. Closer to the middle one.”

“I get it, you’re strong.”

I looked at him, maintaining a cold expression. In response, he shook his head.

“If you live long enough to do underworld related missions, you might learn how much commissioning a high Silver-rank assassin costs. Even assassinating a low Silver rank, as long as they lack connections or protection, would go for 500, maybe a thousand gold.”

The piercing gaze emanating from his eyes felt as if it reached my very soul.

“Do you know how much even a minor noble family has saved up?”

“...a few thousand gold coins, I'd imagine.”

“In liquid assets, maybe. A few dozen thousands total net-worth, usually.”

I couldn't help but avert my gaze. I knew what he meant. Honestly, deep in my heart, I knew from the start.

“Sometimes, being smart is better than being right. I just hope a certain young talent, that might have had a bright future in this profession, won't get that potential extinguished at its infancy because his parents neglected this lesson.”

By the time I raised my eyes, the sound of John's steps had just disappeared beyond the training ground gate.

Somehow, my victory felt far more hollow than before.

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