The transport carriages arrived in the village on time, much to everyone’s relief. The passengers quickly got off and headed towards a nearby inn to grab a pint of beer first.
Yuric also entered the inn with the others and ordered dinner. The innkeeper’s daughter’s eyes were glued to his face as she brought him a plate full of food. The drinkers chuckled, saying his face must be worn out.
While Yuric was eating, someone approached his table. Looking up, he saw the half-blood mage he had just made eye contact with earlier.
“May I sit for a moment?”
“Sure.”
As the man sat down, the innkeeper’s daughter came back asking what he would like. He ordered only a pint of beer.
His usual dry gaze did not leave Yuric.
“I am Azaskun.”
“Yuric.”
“Your magic seems systematically learned. Where did you learn it?”
Azaskun read the circuits constantly running through Yuric’s body and immediately realized he was no ordinary person. Moreover, the profound aura he emitted was far beyond that of an ordinary wandering mage.
“I studied under many teachers.”
The half-blood mage scrutinized every inch of Yuric’s body. Though he had seen quite a bit in his seventy years, this was a first for him. It wasn’t merely that his mana was dense; there was an inexplicable aura about him.
Clear yet heavy, distant yet profound, akin to nature itself.
Only then did Azaskun recall the name Yuric.
A person who could not be overstated as one of the most famous mages in the current magic circle.
The new dragon knight to have emerged after two hundred years.
Mage Yuric.
Azaskun felt a competitive spirit arise. It was an instinct he couldn’t control.
“Can we spar?”
In the magic world, sparring meant a magic duel.
Wandering mages often challenged other mages to duels because they had to learn practically rather than theoretically.
Yuric used to frequently duel with the demon Gargo to get familiar with index finger magic.
“Sure.”
Yuric gladly accepted. After finishing his meal, he went outside the building with Azaskun to an open space.
Azaskun was a talented and hardworking magic prodigy. It was rare to find such a skilled wandering mage.
…But compared to Yuric, who faced even demons alone, he still fell short.
Of course, Azaskun could feel the gap. Even if the opponent was a dragon knight!
However, he didn’t think the gap was too wide. If he seized the opportunity well, he believed he could turn the tide of an unfavorable battle.
Before starting the duel, Yuric cast a barrier spell using a magic array to prevent any stray attacks.
He placed the bag on his shoulder far away and stood about twenty steps from his opponent.
“Let’s begin.”
Yuric took the duel seriously. That was his way of showing respect to his opponent.
Azaskun felt the sudden change in momentum and hesitated for a moment. But without fear, he quickly circulated mana throughout his body and began casting spells.
His friends called him Swift due to his fast incantation speed. And in the life-or-death battles of mages, incantation speed was as crucial as life itself.
Azaskun gathered mana in both hands, twisted them like handles, and instantly completed the spell. A mana bullet flew towards Yuric.
Of course, the half-blood mage knew such a spell wouldn’t work on Yuric and prepared a follow-up attack right away.
Yuric, with just one raised index finger, slashed through the mana bullet effortlessly. The split mana bullet hit the barrier and exploded.
Immediately after blocking the attack, another mana bullet came from the left. Again, Yuric sliced it with a flick of his finger.
This was ridiculous!
Azaskun was momentarily stunned by Yuric’s unbelievable skill but calmed himself and continued his next attack.
‘…This won’t work.’
Indeed, a dragon knight.
Azaskun decided to use a more powerful spell this time. He crossed his hands diagonally and spread them apart. A blue mana spear formed and shot towards Yuric.
It was a powerful spell strong enough to pierce through even formidable monsters. He believed it would work this time.
…But Yuric didn’t dodge or create a protective shield. He simply flicked his finger, altering the direction of the mana spear. It grazed past him, hit the barrier wall, and exploded.
‘What… How can a finger…?!’
Azaskun had never heard of anyone deflecting magic with their fingers. Doing so would surely break their fingers.
He fired several more mana bullets and spears, but all were blocked by Yuric’s fingers.
“Have you learned strengthening spells?”
“…A little.”
“Then let’s continue.”
Yuric suddenly appeared right in front of Azaskun.
?
He then jabbed Azaskun’s arm with his finger. It felt like being pierced by a hot iron rod. If he had applied more force, it would have gone right through.
But before Azaskun could even express his pain, Yuric’s hand touched his abdomen. If he cast a spell now, his body might explode.
If his opponent were a demon, such an attack wouldn’t kill him, but a severe injury like this would be dangerous even for a half-blood.
Yuric stepped back and stopped attacking. Seeing the vast gap between them, Azaskun raised his hands slightly, signaling it was enough. The barrier spell vanished.
After this duel, Azaskun received a significant shock. He hadn’t expected such a huge difference. It was like comparing a weapon-wielding adult to a bare-handed child.
‘…Is it really possible for the difference to be this great? I made it to the preliminaries of the magic tournament at the Mage Tower…?’
The overwhelming difference was so absurd that he almost laughed. The opponent barely used any offensive or defensive spells, relying mainly on strengthening spells.
Azaskun now clearly understood why mage Yuric was so famous in the magic world.
…And this encounter reignited his own lagging determination.
“Thank you. I gained great enlightenment from this.”
“You’re welcome. I was worried I might not be of much help. Is your arm okay?”
“This minor injury is nothing. Actually, my grandmother is a demon. I inherited some of her blood, which heals wounds quickly.”
Despite his exceptional skills, Yuric remained humble and modest. Azaskun felt that Yuric possessed excellent character along with his abilities.
He felt curious about Yuric. He wondered what kind of mage this person was.
“Where are you heading, Mr. Yuric?”
“To Paphos.”
“Then, if it’s not a bother, may I ask you to spar with me during the journey to Paphos?”
Azaskun asked.
After some thought, Yuric nodded in agreement. Given Azaskun’s knowledge of the eastern regions, Yuric could benefit from the exchange.
“Earlier, you mentioned your grandmother was a demon. Do you know her name?”
“Of course. Her name is Nersil. She is the headmaster of the eastern magic academy.”
“A high-ranking individual.”
“In fact, I’ve only met her once when I was young. We don’t have much connection.”
Demon Nersil.
Yuric considered visiting the magic academy to meet her if he had the chance.
From that day on, the two traveled together until they reached the city of Paphos.
Azaskun, coming from the east, shared detailed stories about the region with Yuric. Every evening, they would cast a barrier spell and practice dueling.
Thanks to his mixed heritage, Azaskun healed quickly. He demanded more intense training from Yuric, allowing him to attack freely as long as it didn’t cause fatal injuries.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It’s fine. It helps improve my skills.”
Azaskun, who had been pushed out of his family due to his lack of skills, imagined returning to his family with newfound strength.
Like any demon-blooded family, the patriarch, his father, had declared that the strongest member of any gender or age would inherit the family.
“One day, I will return to my family. I’ll strengthen my skills and prove my existence to my father!”
“Then I’ll help you.”
Yuric mercilessly attacked Azaskun with his fingers, believing that mastering strengthening spells was fundamental for a mage. He guided him to prioritize learning this skill.
Azaskun endured the pain, trying desperately to avoid Yuric’s attacks.
“Still, it’s good to see your skills improving rapidly. You truly have remarkable talent, Azaskun!”
“Thank you. It’s all thanks to you, Yuric.”
“Then I think we can increase the intensity a bit more.”
Yuric’s fingers focused particularly on painful spots.
At seventy years old, Azaskun screamed for the first time during the duel.
