Log inEpisode 21 - The Losers' Rematch 2
Wingester gritted his teeth, completely unwrapping the cloth and pointing the Barrett Staff at him.
“Armor alone won't stop this...!”
“Hmph.”
Flutter.
Romulus also unraveled the bundle of cloth he had strapped to his back.
Inside was something he hadn't expected at all...
“...A sword...?!
”Yes. A Slash Staff."
A sword with a long magic stone used as its entire blade, featuring a large cylinder resembling a mana concentrator mounted on the hilt.
It was essentially a staff transformed into sword form.
“...You've made something interesting.”
“Heh, you won't find it interesting once you've tasted it.”
“As the old saying goes, ‘The sword is mightier than the fist, and the gun is mightier than the sword’!”
Thwack!
Wingester didn't hesitate, firing a ball of flame straight at his head.
“How pathetic!”
Romulus immediately swung his Slash Staff downwards.
“Lightning Slash-!”
Following the blade's trajectory, a heavy lightning strike accompanied by intense sparks sliced the fireball clean in two with ease and surged toward Wingester.
“?!
”How's that! This is the difference in skill between you and me!"
“Guh...!”
He belatedly activated the defensive magic embedded in his gauntlet, but...
Zzzzzzz-!
“...!?”
The intense lightning strike sliced through the gauntlet and Wingester himself, obliterating even the defensive magic he had managed to cast.
The shattered gauntlet fell to the floor. Wingester, bleeding from his severed wrist and trembling from the lightning's shock, realized.
Romulus's sword-shaped staff was fundamentally different from Wingester's Barrett Staff.
Unlike Wingester, who entrusted his entire combat magic activation to his Barrett Staff to compensate for his low mana aptitude, his Slash Staff was, after all, just a simple wand.
Meaning the magic he just took was, without a doubt, developed specifically for that wand by Romulus himself, who was chanting and casting it directly.
“What... the...!”
“That magic tool of yours was clearly designed to rapidly fire off fourth-circle spells, right?”
“......!”
Romulus flashed a victorious smile.
“...Mine is fifth-circle.”
“Gah... Damn...!”
" And one more thing. The ‘Slash Magic’ I just cast... that's the culmination of my graduation thesis—it slices through all kinds of anti-magic treatments and defensive spells, along with the caster, and attacks."
Wingester stared down at his gauntlet, lying pitifully on the floor.
That meant Wingester had no chance of winning in a direct confrontation.
“…Surrender, Wingester. You have no chance.”
“…….”
Romulus finished speaking and stood comfortably, his Slash Staff gripped firmly.
Wingester was no longer a threat to him.
“Keep trying. I hope you surprise me in our next duel.”
“...I'm not some damned motivator for you...!”
Wingester was genuinely enraged.
Gritting his teeth, he glared at Romulus, unleashing all the venom he held in his eyes.
“...That's not what I meant.”
“But that's exactly what it means!”
“......!”
Wingester had read ad nauseam in his favorite collection of hero tales that murder holds no justification.
But that was a separate issue.
Wingester's own pride, his dignity, was being threatened.
“Romulus…!”
“…….”
“I will… kill you!”
Wingester pulled something from his waist pouch and began sprinting.
It was clear he had no chance in a direct confrontation. Under these circumstances, exploiting his opening to inflict a fatal wound was his only option.
“I told you it was useless!”
“Dieeeee!”
Clank.
Romulus saw it.
Wingester had removed the concentrator from his Barrett Staff, then inserted the heavy-looking object he'd taken from his pocket—three concentrators arranged in a triangle.
“You…!”
“How about this!!”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Without a moment's pause, three rapid shots aimed at vital points.
The barrel glowed red-hot as if screaming, but it didn't matter.
No matter how powerful that Slash Magic was, a single cast couldn't block all of them.
"... Foolish boy.“
”……!“
”Lightning Slash… Triple Fold!"
Swish! Swish! Whack!
As if waiting for it, Romulus sliced through all the magic bullets in three consecutive strikes, shattering them and rendering them useless.
Moreover, that slash charged straight towards Wingester.
“Triple Chain…!”
“…….”
He never expected that magic to be used as a Triple Chain.
Wingester gritted his teeth and drew another trump card from behind his waist.
The sample blueprint Grandfather had brought from the Maritime Kingdom, the part attached below the barrel.
Click.
It snapped precisely into the groove prepared in advance on the new Barrett Staff. It was a sharp bayonet.
“GRAAAAAAARGH!!”
After using every physical enhancement spell he possessed, he additionally wrapped mana around the blade of the bayonet and swung it.
Clang!
He barely parried and deflected two slashes with the bayonet.
But...
Thwack!
“Guhh...!!”
Wingester couldn't react in time to the third slash. His abdomen was sliced open, and he was flung to the floor.
Just as he forced his paralyzed body to rise, a cold sensation touched Wingester's hair.
“......”
“That's enough. Wingester. You've lost.”
“...Do you think... I'll... give up...!”
“......”
Gripping the drawn blade, he tried to force himself up, but his paralyzed legs refused to obey.
“Why are you being so stubborn? Is your life worth so little?”
“You... you're the one to talk about the value of my life?!”
“……!”
"I can't... lose to a young master like you! "
Wingester finally rose, clutching his trouser hem, and though staggering, gripped his Barrett Staff firmly.
He absolutely could not lose.
The Barrett Staff in his hand held not only Wingester's own will, but also the life, honor, and pride of his grandfather, whom he respected beyond measure.
To lose while wielding this was something Wingester could never accept.
“What the hell is driving you like this...?”
“It's none of your business... someone like you. . .”
“…You won't yield even if it kills you?”
“Of course not…!”
After watching Wingester like that for a moment, he shook his head and sighed.
Then, he lightly planted the blade of his Slash Staff into the ground and crossed his arms.
“...I lost.”
“What...?!?”
“So, let's call this duel my defeat.”
“Don't be ridiculous!”
Wingester, enraged, staggered forward and grabbed his collar.
“You... you intend to insult me!”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why the hell...!”
“......”
Romulus sighed and avoided his gaze.
“...Because I'm not prepared to ‘kill’ you.”
“......!”
“Clearly, if this continues, you'll never give up and keep attacking me. Right up until the moment you truly die....”
“......”
“I have no desire to fight you that far. So, I concede defeat.”
Hearing Romulus' explanation, Wingester gritted his teeth.
This bastard is trying to maintain his stance as a rival of goodwill, even against an opponent who seeks to kill him.
“...Damn bastard.”
“......”
“...It's a draw.”
“What?”
“This duel... is a draw. A draw that might as well be an utter defeat for me.”
“......!”
Romulus helped Wingester, who had finally collapsed to the floor, back up.
“...Sorry.”
“Don't apologize. Damn you...!”
“......”
“Next time, I'll definitely break that pride of yours...”
“Anytime. I welcome your challenge whenever you throw it down.”
The princess, who had been watching the two from afar, cautiously approached.
She had been worried, but it seemed things had been settled, barely.
She was secretly relieved that Wingester hadn't stepped onto a dangerous path, thanks to Romulus.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
“...An excellent duel. And excellent magical tools.”
From behind a tree trunk a short distance away, someone emerged, applauding.
That figure, with the blue-silver hair characteristic of the royal family, swaying slightly in the wind...
“…Griphellos…Brother?”
“Elmaread. It’s been a while.”
The one who stepped out was the Second Prince, Griphellos, currently vying with the First Prince for the position of next Crown Prince within the kingdom.
Beside Griphellos, Romulus's father also accompanied them, dressed in full uniform.
“Ah, Father?”
“...You did well, son.”
“......!”
Romulus's face twisted as if he might cry, but he immediately realized he was in front of the princess and prince. He gritted his teeth and held back his tears.
His heart was pounding with emotion, having finally received praise from his father after being treated like a good-for-nothing all this time.
“Romulus. If it's alright, I have something important to discuss with Wingester... Would it be acceptable if I took him away for a moment?”
Griphellos gestured to Wingester, seemingly interested in him, indicating he would take him away.
Wingester forced himself upright, supported by another, and faced the prince.
“May I ask why you wish to take me...?”
“...I thought you'd already know.”
Wingester felt a chill run down his spine.
The prince's gaze was fixed precisely on the Barrett Staff in his hand.
Wingester swallowed hard and cautiously hid the Barrett Staff behind his back.
“Well then, I can assure you it’s not bad news. Won’t you come with me?”
“…Is that… an order…?”
“No. It’s a ‘suggestion’.”
The prince's gaze implied that refusing to follow him now would lead to greater trouble later.
Though renowned as a tactician, rumors suggested he possessed a ruthless side, willing to use any means to achieve his ends.
It was called a suggestion, but refusing would surely bring misfortune.
“...Understood.”
“A wise young man. Does anyone object?”
No one present dared refuse the Second Prince's will.
The prince ordered his two escort mages to support Wingester and bring him forward.
*
After descending the mountain, they headed to an upscale restaurant near the palace.
“Why here of all places…?”
Prince Griphellos sat across from him, leisurely reading the menu.
“Your Highness…?”
“Would you join me for a meal first?”
“……!”
“I hope it suits your taste….”
“Why would you suddenly invite someone like me….”
His counterpart was the Second Prince, renowned for his cunning.
For such a man to invite him to dine without preamble meant he surely desired something from Wingester.
“I vaguely recall the magic tool you used.”
“……!”
Wingester, feeling burdened, rose to avoid him, but his body faltered and he sat back down.
“Hehehe, a wise young man indeed.”
“...Gulp....”
“I'm sorry to bring this up when you're injured and in pain. But I wanted to handle things before word spreads.”
Though he couldn't read his intentions, his instincts warned of danger.
He wanted to refuse the meal and storm out immediately, but the other already held his vital points.
The initiative was firmly in his hands.
-To be continued-
