A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 20
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 20. The Returner’s Promotion Trial (6)
The Kildra Mouse pursued the blood trail Dezir left behind, its maw—far larger than its own body—gaping wide as if determined not to miss a single droplet of scattered blood.
Wind Bullet.
The bullet of wind, conjured at ultra-high speed, seized the fleeting gap and struck the Kildra Mouse’s abdomen dead-on.
Crack!
The sound was wrong.
The exoskeleton encasing the Kildra Mouse’s body had definitely fractured.
But it wasn’t enough to stop it. The exoskeleton might have been tougher than she’d anticipated, or her fear of the rodent might have shattered her concentration.
“No!”
What mattered was that she had failed.
The Kildra Mouse plummeted further downward, its body pulled back into the torrent of rats. Once it descended into that maelstrom, a second attack would be impossible. That was when Fram burst past Dezir and Romantica.
“Fram?!”
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Fram hurled himself into the oncoming flood of rodents. Thousands of rats began embedding their incisors into his bare skin.
Yet even in such circumstances, Fram’s focus never wavered.
The sluggish masses of rats.
A black tidal wave.
Within it, he never lost sight of the blood trail the Kildra Mouse had shed. The creature moved swiftly through the throng.
Fram’s exceptional dynamic vision caught the demon’s movements.
“Ha!”
Then came a thrust like a shaft of light.
Silver brilliance split the black tide of rats asunder.
“Skrreeee… eeeek.”
Splash!
A sound like tearing canvas echoed through the air.
The Kildra Mouse, skewered on the tip of the Drei Sword like meat on a spit, shuddered once and went limp.
The swarm of rats, which had moved as a single organism, suddenly froze as if its spring had snapped.
“Chirp? Squeek?”
Like creatures waking from a long dream, the rats turned their heads to survey their surroundings. Then, catching sight of the towering humans, they scurried toward the nearest grass and scattered in all directions.
The tide of rodents withdrew like receding waters, dispersing to the four winds.
-Survival Quest Complete.
Kildra Mouse eliminated.
Survival successful.
“It’s over…”
Fram collapsed backward onto the ground. Dezir brushed the rats clinging to his shoulders away.
“You did well, Fram.”
“That much is… just the basics.”
The squeaking that had tormented their ears was gone. The forest had returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. Heavy rain soaked their cheeks and bodies.
Soft, indifferent rain pattered down with a gentle hiss.
“I’m cold.”
Romantica murmured, drenched from head to toe. She looked like a drowned rat.
Dezir smiled and pointed northwest with his finger.
“If we head in that direction, we’ll feel better.”
Thunder rumbled.
The pointed shadow of the Clock Tower fell across the ground.
Far ahead, the tower of the Clock Tower loomed tall against the sky.
-Quest objective discovered.
You have knowledge of this place. The quest description has been updated accordingly.
-Prievius’s Clock Tower is a large mana device infused with high-level black magic. Every hour, it summons demons from within itself.
The demons that are summoned carry unique characteristics inherent to the hour of their birth.
-The final quest has been unlocked.
Stop the Clock Tower.
-At the summit of the Clock Tower lies the Power Source that drives it. Destroy the Power Source, and the Clock Tower will cease to function.
* * *
Crunch.
With a sharp cutting sound, the ice encasing the Kildra Mouse shattered.
Blood and flesh scattered across the ground in a grim tangle.
Azest wiped the fouled blade clean with an expressionless face.
-Kildra Mouse has been eliminated.
You have survived the Survival Quest.
The ring of rats that had been closing in on the Blue Moon Party from all sides fell still. Freed from control, they scattered according to their timid nature, instinct overriding compulsion.
“We made it!”
“We cleared it!”
Jubilant cheers erupted.
Azest looked around. Of the ten survivors—including herself—only eight remained.
‘Two were eliminated.’
Out of thirty participants in this quest, more than ten had been disqualified.
That was over a third of the total.
The Blue Moon Party had performed admirably. Yet Azest’s expression remained dark.
No one noticed the subtle shift of emotion beneath her lofty composure—not even Percival, who now approached her.
“We’ve secured dominance now. Nearly half of the eighteen survivors are our members.”
The remaining forces were at most three to five small-scale parties.
“If we eliminate them one by one, our placing in the rankings is nearly assured.”
The rain still had not ceased.
Damp humidity clung to their skin, washing away sweat. After the prolonged battle, their bodies burned with heat—the cool sensation was refreshing rather than cold.
“……?”
A wind from somewhere ruffled Azest’s platinum hair.
It was a north wind riding in on the rain—so faint that anyone distracted would never have noticed it.
In that instant, Azest’s eyes changed.
At tremendous speed, a spell matrix unfurled before her. In less than five seconds, a transparent Ice Pillar rose sharply in front of Percival.
Crash.
The Ice Pillar, shattered through its middle, crumbled and fell moments later.
“What—what was that just now?”
Percival’s voice trembled thinly.
“A sniper.”
Her tone was so flat it contained no inflection whatsoever, but internally Azest was considerably alarmed. The gap between casting Detection Magic and receiving the Sniper Attack had been nearly nonexistent.
Had she not sensed the Detection Magic, Percival would have been eliminated outright.
‘There are almost no mages capable of maintaining that rate of fire…….’
More precisely: among the freshmen, there were none—except herself. Who could it be? There was no time for that question to find its answer. What mattered was that a high-level Wind mage had them in their sights.
Even for an Alpha Class with formidable power, sniper fire of this caliber posed a grave threat.
Azest shouted toward her party arrayed behind her.
“Enemy contact. Tanks forward. Wind mages, disrupt the air currents.”
Following Azest’s orders, the defensive formation locked into place.
The tanks took position with shields raised, while the mages behind them scrambled the air currents and prepared to counterattack.
No further shots came.
Perhaps the sniper had realized that once they were fortified, such attacks were useless.
Even after waiting at length, nothing changed.
“Captain? They’re not firing anymore…….”
“Maintain formation.”
The defensive line could not be abandoned simply because the shots had stopped.
The slightest lapse in vigilance, and a bullet would bore through one of their skulls.
“Stay alert. Advance northward.”
Azest pointed in the direction the shots had come from.
“Mages capable of casting Detection Magic—deploy the spell every hundred meters.”
The Blue Moon Party began their advance.
Tension stretched taut as thread, ready to snap at any moment.
Rain fell. The wind howled.
Weather conditions were terrible.
Azest bit her lip.
* * *
“It failed.”
Third floor of the Clock Tower.
Romantica gazed out through the window at the sprawling forest beyond, while Dezir Armang stood beside her.
“It doesn’t matter. I never expected the sniper attack to succeed as long as Azest was out there.”
“What? You ordered me to shoot even though you knew it would fail?”
Romantica’s cheeks puffed out indignantly.
“Exactly. To let them know we have a sniper. From now on, they’ll move cautiously, watching for sniper fire every moment, and they’ll deploy detection magic thoroughly to prepare for ambush. That alone will place an enormous psychological burden on them.”
At Dezir Armang’s words, Romantica deflated her cheeks slightly, though her displeasure remained evident.
“But the sniper attack failed, so our position is exposed.”
“That’s precisely the core of this plan.”
“What?”
“Fire sniper shots at not just the Blue Moon Party, but every other party as well. Let them all know our location.”
“Are you in your right mind?”
Dezir Armang smiled.
There was no chance his party could defeat the Blue Moon Party in direct combat.
But his party had no choice — they had to drop the survivor count below ten.
A direct confrontation with the Blue Moon Party, who currently held absolute numerical superiority, was unavoidable.
“But a chaotic melee? That changes everything.”
“A chaotic melee?”
“We force a situation where all parties fight simultaneously. Right here. At the Clock Tower.”
It was the best path his small party could take.
“Right now, the Blue Moon Party is absolutely favored. But what happens if all the parties converge here? Would survivors who’d made it this far turn on such an overwhelming force? No. They’d form alliances instead.”
Dezir Armang paused, then continued.
“We maintain balance between them. We eliminate enemies when gaps appear. And each time momentum swings toward one side, we tip the scales back again. By maintaining that delicate equilibrium, we reduce the survivor count to exactly nine.”
“In other words, you want to win without exerting much effort.”
“Cheap thinking, Dezir.”
Dezir Armang raised an eyebrow as he spoke.
“What wouldn’t I do to achieve victory?”
Fram crossed his arms.
“But with that strategy, the other parties really will have it rough. They’ve struggled to maintain their defense positions, and then a group battle erupts. It’ll be absolute hell for them.”
“Wouldn’t it be heaven for us?”
Dezir Armang’s eyes gleamed.
Romantica shuddered.
The man truly excelled at tormenting others. He was nothing short of a demon.
Dezir Armang clapped his hands together.
“Anyway, what we need to do now is simple. Rain down sniper fire without mercy on the parties scattered across the landscape. Make our location known. Make them understand that we’re here, and that their enemies are right here with us.”
Romantica pressed herself against the window and spoke, calculating detection magic in her mind.
“I don’t know if they’ll actually come just because we shoot.”
“What else would they do? This is the quest’s objective location.”
Prievius’s Clock Tower was a place all participants had to reach to complete the Survival Quest.
Dezir Armang’s party simply intended to announce that fact through sniper fire.
“Well then, let’s begin this slugfest.”
Dezir Armang clapped his hands.
In that moment, the dry crack of gunfire was swallowed by the sound of rain.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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