But he can’t use magic, and that means I still have a chance!
Under Zelos’s rules, Ado was prohibited from using magic. He’d only been allowed to use it to set traps to protect his pillar; now that the duel had started, his sole weapon was a shoddy sword. Uru, meanwhile, could use long-range attack magic, so he was confident he had an advantage.
“Arrows of flame, bombard my foe! Let a thousand arrows burn them to ash! Flame Arrow!”
Despite the incantation, Flame Arrow didn’t actually produce a thousand projectiles. It was more like fifteen, each a little larger than those created by the similar Fire Arrow spell. Still, Uru thought it’d make for a strong preemptive strike against an opponent who could only use a melee weapon.
But Uru was about to witness something truly unbelievable.
With one casual swing of his sword, Ado cut through all of the flaming arrows.
“Hah! You think that’s enough to take me down?!”
Just like that, Uru’s spell was gone.
Ado hadn’t performed your average slash. He’d generated so much power that the displaced air became a weapon unto itself, shearing grass from the ground and dispersing Uru’s flaming spears before dissipating.
“I thought you were a mage?!” Uru called out. “Did you trick me? O-Or... No—don’t tell me you’ve been doing the same thing I have...”
Since Uru traveled between different towns and villages to peddle his potions, he was constantly at risk of getting ambushed along the road by bandits or monsters. Realizing the importance of close-quarters combat, he’d trained himself in it. He wasn’t as competent with a sword as he was with magic, though. He might’ve managed against monsters, but his swordsmanship wasn’t good enough to beat another human in an actual fight. It was serviceable at best, but when he combined it with his magic, he could at least keep himself safe.
Ado’s slash had been a different beast entirely. The very height of swordsmanship.
In other words, there was no doubt about it now: Ado far surpassed Uru in both magic and sword skills.
Both men were mages who knew how to fight up close, but there was a world of difference between knowing how to do something and having mastered it.
Ado was a different type of mage altogether: a type who could defeat Uru without casting even a single spell.
Now that Uru couldn’t win by relying on the simple fact that he could cast magic while his opponent couldn’t, he’d have to draw on every bit of his talent to get through this.
Unfortunately, the gap between them was too wide.
“Damn it... Fireball!” Uru shouted, unleashing the spell from one of his rings.
Ado had no trouble dodging.
Under the rules of this duel, participants were allowed to interfere with one another but not kill. Each player’s objective was to destroy the pillar on the opposite side of the field. To get within attack range of that pillar, however, they first had to incapacitate the opponent standing in their way.
If this had been a team battle, each side’s defenders could’ve held the enemy while attackers went for the other team’s pillar.
But in a one-on-one duel, you had to make your own opening. In turn, the key to victory lay in determining how to immobilize your opponent and strike while they couldn’t stop you.
Uru had a weakness there, though: His repertoire of magic was limited.
He might’ve studied at the Istol Academy of Magic, but its instructors only taught so many spells. Obviously, they didn’t teach mere students the most powerful spells available.
Most high-tier spells were area spells capable of devastating enemy forces with a single cast. And to purchase something that dangerous, mages had to undergo a strict and expensive evaluation. Even if they passed, the spell scrolls themselves cost a pretty penny.
While the evaluations helped prevent crime, they could be rough on your average mage.
As someone born to a peasant family in a farming village, Uru simply didn’t have that kind of money sitting around. As a result, he hadn’t been able to afford to learn those kinds of spells and had eventually given up.
Secretly, this system had also been designed to protect the prestige of mages from noble backgrounds. Even so, a good number of commoners had passed the evaluation and earned access to high-tier magic. Many of them often went on to work for the state.
“O raging lands, coalesce; make me a spear to shatter even steel. Impale my foe as they encroach; grant them death. Earth Lance!”
But yet again, Ado cut through Uru’s attack as if it were butter.
“Outta my way!”
And in the time Uru had taken to say the spell’s incantation, Ado had closed the distance.
It had been a fatal delay for Uru.
Worse, the incantation had allowed Ado to determine which spell Uru would use. While it had been obvious that Ado would approach—each duelist had to first get within range if they wanted to destroy their opponent’s pillar—the speed of his approach was terrifying.
Plus, he was dodging or parrying every attempt to slow him down.
Carelessly firing off spells was going to do nothing but deplete Uru’s mana. And if he ran out of mana, he wouldn’t even be able to move.
He’s not just a first-rate mage. He’s a first-rate swordsman too... Argh! Why does it have to be someone like him?!
Uru envied Ado’s talent.
Of course, the other four reincarnators had known all along that Uru stood no chance of winning.
In fact, Zelos had been confident enough to give Uru a handicap.
As Uru became increasingly aware of his own weakness, his hatred for Ado only grew hotter.
He knew his feelings for Yui were one-sided. He knew he was being selfish. But he couldn’t lie to himself.
He didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to see the happiness he’d found shattered. And he absolutely refused to part with Yui.
His love for her was the real deal, and it made him as stubborn as nails.
Even if he lost this duel, he was confident his love for Yui would never fade.
Ado, on the other hand, was surprised by just how weak his opponent was.
When Zelos said I wasn’t allowed to use magic, I thought I’d be at a disadvantage. But mages in this world really aren’t worth worrying about, huh? I knew they were weak, but I didn’t think things were this bad... When all of them are shouting incantations, you can figure out what kind of attack’s coming pretty easily and deal with it. Anyone who wants to put up a fight against me has to be able to cast without incantations and use multiple spells at once, at the bare minimum. But...I guess this is what passes as normal for mages in this world? In Swords & Sorceries, this guy would’ve been weak even for a noob.
Uru wore red robes, identifying him as a high-ranking mage according to Solistian law—but that didn’t mean anything to Ado. He just continued using his sword to bat away every magic attack that flew at him.
Even the most adept of swordsmen in this world couldn’t fend off magic like this.
I guess I should finish him, huh? Dragging it out any more than I am would just be kinda sad. I don’t wanna bully someone this weak... Zelos knew I’d be able to swat away all this guy’s magic with a sword, didn’t he? Damn, the guy’s sly...
While Ado had plenty of mana and energy left in the tank, Uru panted in exhaustion as he alternated between chugging magic potions and firing off magic at Ado.
Ado couldn’t help but see Zelos as some villainous mastermind for setting these rules. They almost seemed designed to highlight Uru’s powerlessness.
What had sounded like a handicap wasn’t doing anything of the sort; in the face of the enormous level difference between the two duelists, it just didn’t matter. It was more like a mean trick that gave Uru a ray of hope before reality came crashing down to show him how far out of his league he really was.
In a duel between mages, losing to an opponent who hadn’t cast even a single spell would be an utter embarrassment.
While it was important to make Uru understand his place, this was ruthless.
After all, he’d never had the slightest chance of victory, right from the start.
Uru was at fault for letting his emotions get the best of him, of course, but that didn’t mean Ado’s hands were clean here—he’d ultimately accepted the duel, even if he hadn’t known what it would lead to.
The fact that things had turned out this way was a mere coincidence, though. Even Zelos didn’t spend his days inventing conniving schemes.
Okay, he was a pretty conniving kind of guy, but—
What was the guy’s name again... Uru? Sorry, man, but it’s time to say goodbye to your pillar!