The Founder’s expression hardened. He took some distance from me before beginning to construct a spell. It was magic not of the Dimension attribute, which was unusual.
“Cure! Full Cure! Remove!”
“Do you think such crude basic magic can heal this?! This is poison and seed—bred, cultivated, and activated by magic by the Thief of Wood’s Essence!”
A De Liffide tree, hidden in the great hall, reacted to the activation of the healing magic. Annoyed, Kanami dodged it, abandoning attempts to cure his status ailments and suppressing the release of magic power from his body. Then, holding his breath shallowly—yet boldly, without hesitation despite the swirling pollen and seeds—he charged full speed toward me, extending a glowing arm.
“Then I’ll just end this battle immediately! Distance Mute!”
“That too! I’ve prepared for it!” Focusing solely on buying time, I deflected the purple glowing arms of Kanami the Founder with the gauntlets on my own arms. This gauntlet had been forged by a pupil of mine who’d carved it from Yggdrasil in the garden, mastering the art of Blessed Iron Smithing, and it had Dimension resistance inscribed by Nosfy. Truly, it was a legendary-grade piece of armor custom-made to defeat Kanami the Founder. Its power completely repelled the erosion of Distance Mute.
Kanami, though surprised, calmly deactivated the spell on his right arm. He could have eroded the gauntlet if he wished but had likely judged it difficult within the space where the magic-draining sacred tree, De Liffide, lurked.
Seeming to prioritize stunning his enemy first, he swung his fist, just as I had done. I responded in kind. Fist met fist. It was a brawl. Finally, I was locked into the one type of battle I could fight properly. In this kind of brawl, I had the upper hand. A thousand years ago, I’d lacked the dexterity to wield blades like others. Even with only a staff involved, I hadn’t been able to predict where the tip would go. Time and again, I’d attempted sword techniques, only to wound my own arms or thighs. I had been able to grasp my own arm movements, but the moment anything else entered the picture, I’d been hopeless. I’d been the epitome of someone unfit for athletics. For the same reason, I hadn’t been able to handle spears or bows either.
Seeing this, General Vohlz, the old general of the Northern Army, had recommended that I fight with my bare fists. I’d started with self-defense for women and children, progressed through basic body techniques and finally mastered my own variant martial art fueled by the strength gained from becoming an Essence Thief.
That was why I refused to lose in a fistfight like this. After being told repeatedly that it was my only option, I’d trained relentlessly in this alone. Long before becoming the Thief of Wood’s Essence! Even after becoming the Thief of Wood’s Essence! I’d kept at it relentlessly!
For this battle, for this day...
“I won’t lose!” I couldn’t mimic my enemy’s movements and change my response with any Skill. I only saw my enemy’s attack and responded with the optimal movement, using techniques that had become ingrained in my body.
Amid the dizzying flurry of crossing fists, I finally landed one of my most powerful techniques. I swept the Founder’s dual fists aside from the inside, feigned a sweep with my leg, stepped forward, closed the distance, and unleashed a palm strike with my entire body’s force behind it. He took the blow to the abdomen, gritting his teeth to endure it.
He didn’t retreat, but his expression clearly changed. His next movement visibly slowed. I could do this! It was a strike that made me feel that my entire life up to this point hadn’t been wasted. It was a sensation that made me feel all those nights spent sacrificing sleep, repeating the same technique over and over, had been worth it.
I felt victory drawing near, thanks to everything I had prepared working perfectly. The plan had succeeded, thanks to the Viaysia Castle I had prepared a thousand years ago. The plants I’d nurtured until now disabled my enemy’s sword. With Nosfy’s cooperation, Kanami couldn’t use magic either. Every trap functioned, nullifying his abilities. And then there was the variant martial art I’d staked my life on. It was working! My power was flowing through Kanami the Founder! Now, if I unleashed my final trump card like this, it’d be settled.
Weaken Kanami the Founder, grab his arm, and activate the Anti-Founder Magic Seal of my Viaysia Castle. That would be it. That would be the victory of Chancellor Ide.
“Kanamiii!!!” I howled, victory staring me in the face. I continued to move my body, swinging fist after fist, driven by the techniques indelibly saturating my muscles. If I could just use my variant martial art to grab his arm, it would be over. It would end in my victory.
Ah, just a little more. All that was left was to grab him. That would be all it took.
I noticed a sense of unease ten seconds after gaining the upper hand.
Every one of my techniques was parried or deflected until finally even touching Kanami the Founder became difficult. In other words, my advantage lasted a mere ten seconds. What was happening? What the hell was this?
According to plan, this variant martial art should have allowed me to grab the Founder’s arm at least once. But reality was far too merciless. Not once could I seize him. Worse, with every passing second, I fell farther behind. Fist clashed against fist, and I was gradually pushed back.
The terrifying reality sent a chill down my spine. I looked not at the enemy’s movements but at his face. Kanami the Founder was expressionless, staring intently at my body. Those unfathomably void-like eyes were characteristic of a Dimension magic user.
Seeing those pitch-black eyes, I felt a chill and knew for certain. Right now, Kanami was attempting to mimic and copy my variant martial art skill.
He had sensed my disadvantage in the first second, used the next ten seconds to observe and practice, and was trying to close the skill gap right here during the fight. And now, the fact that my techniques were completely useless meant... Well, it meant exactly that. The skill I’d spent over a decade mastering had been drained away in just a dozen seconds.
“Idiotic! This is ridiculous!” I cursed, repeating techniques that were now utterly useless.
Kanami parried them coolly. No, worse—he took the variant martial art I’d thought I’d perfected, elevated it to new heights with mere seconds of practice, and unleashed it upon me.
Forced back by those unseen techniques, my face twisted in agony. This was ridiculous. Did he mean to imply that a year for an ordinary man equaled a second for a genius? Was the technique I’d honed myself merely a convenient stepping stone?
“Don’t you dare, Kanami!!!” Furious, I lunged forward to grab him. But my opponent anticipated the move, seizing my arm instead. In the end, it was Kanami who succeeded first. Next, a fluid, flawless variant martial arts move—one I couldn’t even see coming—was unleashed at me, sending searing pain racing through my entire body.
“Guh! Ugh!!!”
My enemy’s movements were too fast. I couldn’t even tell what technique I’d been hit with.
But thanks to the pain piercing my brain, I knew my condition. My right arm was broken, but I couldn’t stop. I instantly made the trees nesting inside me grow, using them as splints for the broken bone, preparing to counterattack.
But that first step was pushed back by Kanami’s strike. I barely registered that it had come from directly below me. I also recognized it as the same fist technique I had used at the start of battle. I couldn’t block an attack that should have been identical. If it had been exactly like my own attack, I could have blocked it, but naturally, it was faster than mine.