Chapter 62

I questioned the beastkin mage with a sharp, almost mocking tone.

“So? What brings the old mage from the Tower—whose hobby seems to be cross-dressing as a maid—to this place?”

“Hrmm….”

For the record, the only reason I spoke politely to him—despite him being an obvious enemy—was because I was born in Korea, where respect for elders was drilled into me.
Even if I didn’t like it, talking down to a white-haired, wrinkled old man just felt wrong.
If he’d looked even a little younger, I wouldn’t have held back. What a shame.

“Don’t tell me you share the same hobby as that baron over there…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! You’re relentless! I told you it’s not like that!”

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you’re on the same team as that horseshoe crab bastard whose only redeeming feature is that his blood’s blue.”

“Horseshoe crab?”

“You don’t know? The ugly, flat one crawling around the coast. Blue blood, that’s its only gimmick. Honestly, people around here really don’t appreciate seafood.”

“…I don’t quite get what that means, but if you’re asking whether I’m on his side… yes, I am.”

“His side, huh? Let’s see… unless you’ve got prophetic foresight, I doubt you came here expecting a Bronze-ranked adventurer to bash a baron’s skull in. So protecting him isn’t the goal. That means… you’re here to make sure I don’t drag the Tower into this and ruin that crab’s little scheme, right?”

“…That’s right. About two days ago, Baron Alphonse came to me in a hurry. He said his opponent wasn’t some clueless commoner but someone rich enough to buy this mansion outright. A man like that couldn’t have made such money on Bronze-level commissions alone, so he must have a trick up his sleeve. And someone like that—he said—wouldn’t come alone. He’d bring either a Magic Tower branch associate or a Guild contact tied to this property sale.”

“…And since you’re from the West, no Guild official would dare boss you around. So if he silences the Tower’s side, he wins. That’s why he called you.”

“Exactly. I can shut up the branch head if needed. He said he’d do whatever it takes to secure this place.”

“……”

“When you showed up alone to negotiate with the Baron, I thought I was wasting my time. But I see things took quite an unexpected turn.”

I narrowed my eyes and glanced at the Baron. He flinched under my cold stare, trembling.

“So the crab bastard wasn’t acting entirely on impulse, huh? Tch. Annoying.”

I swung my sheath toward the barrier surrounding the Baron—half out of irritation.

Crash!

Five overlapping Physical Barriers shattered with a single strike. But the beastkin mage waved his wand, and in the blink of an eye, ten new barriers flared into place. The Baron’s eyes, wide with fear moments ago, filled once more with relief.

“As long as I’m guarding him, it won’t be so easy. How about we call it here? I’ll smooth things over, and you’ll even get a better price for the mansion.”

I snorted softly and tapped the barrier with my sheath.

“If it’s money you’re after, you might want to switch sides. You heard him, didn’t you? That crab said my life was worth ten million sels. By his logic, I’ve already earned a billion.”

The beastkin mage couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“If I keep this up, a billion will become ten billion, then a hundred billion. So, how about it? Wanna join in? Call?”

Hey, Mr. Beastkin DPS. Hit this guy, and you’ll get paid. Come on, join in.

He just gave a wry chuckle and shook his head.

“A very tempting offer… but I’ll have to decline.”

“……”

“I know what you’re about to say. Don’t.”

“…So, you are into it.”

“For crying out loud, no! I transformed because I didn’t want to embarrass my junior colleague at the branch! A proper man would’ve recognized me and backed off right away! You get your kicks tormenting old men, do you?!”

Watching the beastkin elder fume and sputter, giving off perfect hit feedback every time I teased him, somehow eased my hostility. Didn’t seem like such a bad guy after all.

I adjusted my tone slightly, adding a trace of respect.

“Then why are you here?”

“Ha… damn it. I owed a big favor to the previous Baron Alphonse. Promised him something back then… and now it’s passed on to that thunderstruck fool of a son. What can I do? A promise is a promise.”

“I see. So, we have to fight.”

Tch.

If I’d waited and come with Sodin, I wouldn’t have to do this whole dance. Too bad.

Well, no use crying over it. Time to clean this up myself.

.
.
.

Shrring…

I drew my sword and walked toward the beastkin mage. No matter how cocky I was, fighting a seventh-level mage barehanded—or with just my sheath—would’ve been arrogance.

Still, damn, the guy was huge.

I was tall myself, but this old mage had a whole head on me—and broad shoulders to match, his wand looking comically tiny in those hands.

The beastkin mage smiled as I approached, his aura shifting. Guess a good fight got his blood pumping. Typical for his kind.

“This place is a bit cramped for folks like us to be trading blows. Shall we take it outside?”

I turned my blade to my left hip and smiled.

“No need. It’s fine here.”

He arched one thick, dark brow.

“Surprising. I thought even you wouldn’t want this mansion destroyed.”

“It won’t be. The fight’s already over.”

“…What?”

“Five meters. That’s the distance between you and me, old man.”

“And what of it?”

“It’s also… the exact range where I can reach you with a single step.”

“……!”

The beastkin mage’s mouth twitched in surprise the moment he understood what I meant—

Shiiing!

Astraphe flashed golden, slicing across the five-meter gap and grazing the mage’s neck.

A crimson line spread along the snowy fur running from his trapezius to his shoulder.

“How was that?”

“…Good heavens.”

I pulled the blade away and returned to my spot.

The beastkin mage’s brows twisted into a sharp inverted arch.

“…What was that supposed to be? Are you mocking me?”

“It was a sneak attack. You probably found it hard to accept, so I figured we’d do it again properly.”

The mage hesitated for a moment, then nodded. His beastkin pride as a warrior won out over embarrassment.

“…Interesting. Let’s try again.”

“This time, I’ll toss a coin.”

I reached into the pouch I’d been given earlier and flicked a gold coin into the air.

The coin floated up, spinning slowly. The closer it drifted to the ground, the sharper my focus became.

And the instant it touched the floor—faster than the sound of the coin’s ring could spread through the air—my sword shot forward.

Shing!

Slash…

“Huh…”

The beastkin mage sighed, touching the exact same spot I’d cut before.

“…Faster than a no-cast spell… which means your sword moves faster than my will can reach my Imagery. Absurd…”

Well, of course it did. Even Yuribel once said that within two meters, I could cut down a Grand Master. That wasn’t just about speed, but still—five meters was barely a single step further than that. For a mage without a reinforced body, reacting to that was impossible.

“To be honest,” I said calmly, “at this range, no matter what spell you cast, my sword will still be faster.”

The beastkin mage’s expression hardened in disbelief before he managed to croak out,

“…A m-mage’s strength lies in preparation! This kind of barehanded duel isn’t how mages fight!”

“……”

“Damn it! I know it sounds pathetic! But this is ridiculous! Just one—just one spell that isn’t a barrier! Let me prep that, then we start! Deal!?”

His face flushed red with frustration, the old mage practically shouted. His focus wavered, and before I knew it, the Physical Barrier protecting the Baron was gone—the channeling broken.

“Judging by your tone, if I say no, you’ll just demand we go barehanded. Fine. Go ahead.”

Ting!

Another coin rose into the air.

In an instant, the mage completed a spell pattern and finished casting—just a fraction before the coin could hit the ground (cheating, really).

The air rippled. His body blurred like a faint watermark in motion.

‘Blink…!’

So that’s what he was doing—trying to teleport outside. He must’ve figured that once he got out into open space, he’d have the advantage. And, well… he wasn’t wrong. A high mage tossing spells from the sky isn’t something a ground-bound fighter can easily take down.

‘But who said I’d let you leave?’

The moment I recognized the spell, I thrust my sword into the empty air.

The blade tore into the space itself, splitting it open into a jagged, fist-sized rift of black.

Crackle—!

Then, as if dragged back by force, the beastkin mage’s fading form snapped back into full reality and tumbled violently across the floor.

Thud-thud-thud!

“Guhah—!!”

“Isn’t running outside a bit much? And cheating, too, on top of that?”

But the beastkin mage didn’t seem in any shape to answer.

“Huff… huff… good heavens… what have you done? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is when a Blink misfires!? I could’ve died!”

“Oh, so I was supposed to just stand there and watch? Weren’t we in the middle of a fight?”

The mage grimaced, speechless for a moment, then twisted his head aside.

“…Forget it. What did you just do?”

Instead of answering, I pointed toward the tear in space that still hung in midair.

The beastkin mage staggered upright, followed my finger—and froze with his mouth agape.

“Sp–space rift!? You disrupted my coordinates with a spatial fracture!?”

“Yes. Someone once told me that if you distort the coordinates like that, you can block most space-based spells—including Blink.”

“That’s… that’s true, but—! That’s not the point! I’m asking how in the world you managed to interfere with space itself using a sword!?”

I gave him the kind of answer that would make any mage’s blood pressure spike.

“Well…”

“Well…?”

“I’m just good at it?”

“Guh…!”

The beastkin mage, completely ignoring the matter of victory or defeat, bombarded me with questions about the rift for a while—until finally, he exploded.

“No! Is ‘I’m just good at it’ the only damned answer you know!?”

“Well, that ‘being good’ is the core of my entire technique, so yes.”

“No, not that—! I meant something theoretical! Logical! Arcane structure, mana theory, dimensional reaction, something!”

Man, this old man sounded like he swallowed a kettle.

“Fine, fine. I’ll explain it more theoretically.”

“G-good. Please do.”

“First, you hold the sword.”

“And then?”

“Then you sense which direction the fourth-dimensional axis is, and swing the sword that way—”

“W-wait! How do you even sense that!? You’d have to be a celestial or some kind of higher-dimensional being to—”

“Well…”

“Well!?”

“I’m just… good at it?”

“You little bastard!!”

Wow. Even when I told him the truth, he refused to accept it.

After fuming and muttering to himself for a good while, the beastkin mage finally gave a long, defeated sigh.

“Haa… damn it. I thought I’d stumbled onto a breakthrough technique… but all I got was ‘I’m good at it.’ I’ll go insane.”

I patted his broad, furry back sympathetically.

“Cheer up, old man.”

He shook his head and turned toward Baron Alphonse.

“Baron. That’s that.”

The Baron, who had completely lost track of what was happening, blinked stupidly.

“Th-that’s what?”

“I lost. I don’t have the power to protect you from this man. From here on, you’re on your own.”

“Wh-what!?”

“My promise to your father was to do my best. It didn’t mean dying for you, and certainly not performing the impossible. I did my best. I failed. That means I’ve kept my promise.”

“Th-then what am I supposed to do!?”

“I told you. Convince him or fight him. Personally, I’d recommend bowing your head and apologizing before he crushes it… but it’s your call.”

I waved lazily at the exhausted mage leaning against the wall, then turned to the Baron.

“Huh!”

Thud! Flop!

The Baron tumbled off the sofa in a panic as I smiled sweetly at him.

“Oh, look who it is—my favorite little money-dropping minion. Nice to see you again.”

“W-wait!”

“Now then, we only got up to a hundred billion sels last time, right? Since the interruption’s gone… why don’t we pick up where we left off?”

“Hiiiiiik—!”