The white bear trudged along.
The bear’s sharp claws made it look unquestionably bloodthirsty, but the beast was injured. Painfully dragging one of its legs—stained a wet red—behind it as it walked, the bear closely resembled the monsters that lived in this area.
But that was where the similarities stopped—it only resembled them. They were far from one and the same.
Any magic wielder could’ve sensed it: The bear possessed a mysterious flow of magical energy that wasn’t present in monsters. It was a tremendous power. It was a tremendous, incorrigible power—the sort that only gods and spirits possessed.
The golden-haired man in the white robe slowly followed after the bear. There was no mistaking it—the only thing the man’s golden eyes could see right now was his target.
Seething with lust for such overwhelming power, the man arrogantly believed he was more than up to the task of fully wielding it. He was consumed with a hunger for revenge, ready to settle the score.
So that was what it was. And it sure wasn’t pretty. Types like that were the biggest pain and the biggest hassle. After all, words failed when it came to getting through to people like him.
The man was almost certain to speak a “language” incompatible with that of the ordinary folk. The man began to glow, brandishing his stave.
For mages, much like incantations, staves were crucial tools that elevated the level of their magic and allowed the wielder to use the power reliably. There were some individuals out there who could use magic without the aid of a stave, but unfortunately, it seemed the man wasn’t one of them.
Not that that was a bad thing or anything. People could use handy tools to their hearts’ content. Proclaiming that it’d look cooler not to use one? Now that was uncool. If the results were the same, then it should just have been a matter of choosing whatever was quickest and easiest—even more so if they were going to be using magic in combat.
But if the magician had to rely on a stave for his spells, was this really the sort of fight he could win?
Magical force suddenly began to stir in the air.
“O howls of the dead from the depths of the abyss, unleash thy icy breath—”
The magician began his incantation.
He certainly wasn’t a novice. He first cast a defensive spell around himself before drawing the sigil for his next spell. Magical energy—like countless tiny blades incising through flesh—filled the air.
“Adytical Blade!” the magician shouted, sending out a burst of magical energy.
The bear went flying as the shining blue ball of magical energy tore into it. The magician listened as the ground itself shook and trees snapped in two. There, after the sounds had settled, was the bear’s languid frame, soaked in blood. The corners of the man’s lips twisted up into a grin.
Despite bleeding from the wounds the spell had inflicted upon him and the trees snapped in two by the impact, the bear shook as he staggered to his feet.
The bear’s blue eyes pierced through the man.
The man flinched but sneered nonetheless, as if he were already certain of his victory. After seeing the magic he was so proud of be so effective against the bear, he must’ve been overjoyed.
After all, he’d only injured the bear last time before he’d suffered a defeat. Having been attacked by a human for the first time in centuries, the bear had lost itself in rage, muddled its magical energy, and grown massive. Realizing that he stood little chance against such a tremendous force, the magician had run for his life.
But just where on earth did he get that smug confidence from?
“You’re not getting away from me this time! I’ll show that guy a thing or two!” The man burst into laughter as if he could contain it no longer before beginning his next incantation.
The fact that he’d shielded himself with several layers of defensive spells revealed that the next spell he’d be casting would be a massive one that would take time to prepare in turn.
The bear was too wounded to try and make a hasty retreat now while he had the chance. The bear raised one of his forelegs only to be repelled by the magical barrier and fall to the ground again.
The man seemed to grow even more delighted at this, his mouth curling up as if he couldn’t suppress his grin as he continued his incantation.
Just then, a massive magic circle appeared before the bear.
The magic circle was gray and gave off a pale light, making the air around it shudder eerily. The bear tried to escape, but its body refused to move.
“Gwwwwaaaaargh!” Its deafening howl echoed out.
The sound was so loud that the magician couldn’t help but cover his ears. But the roar was vivid proof that his spell had gone exactly as he’d hoped.
The man couldn’t stop laughing. His frame shook as he cackled and pulled out a magic gem, clear and transparent as a glass sphere.
“Such tremendous power, right in this magic gem! The power of a god—all for me!” the man went on, preparing to finish his incantation.
“Huh?”
The next moment, the man went flying so far it was almost funny.
Having seen the knights’ training exercises, it was hardly enough to make Sophie bat an eye. Sophie clenched her fist as she watched the man go flying. Beside her, Lunetta shook her finger at him.
“Unfortunately for you, that was just an illusion,” Lunetta said. “The real beast isn’t hurt at all.”
Red light erupted and scattered from where the blood-splattered bear had been, only to reveal Azuello, the fluffy bear, twitching his ears unhappily without so much as a scratch on him.