A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 46
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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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Chapter 46. Two Problems (5)
A silvery curtain rose in thick billows.
Blood Talon leaped backward, nocked an arrow to his bowstring, and drew aim on Azest as she emerged from the smoke.
[Grease.]
But Azest pierced through the haze at an absurd speed. The first arrow flew past uselessly. The second never even got a chance to be aimed.
Her blade closed the distance in an instant, freezing the air itself as it carved through the space between them.
Clang!
As Azest touched ground, something felt wrong. What Blood Talon held had surely been a wooden arrow, yet when they collided, the sound that rang out was the strike of steel.
Behind Azest, Blood Talon hung his sword low. In that fleeting moment as her blade descended, he had drawn the sword at his hip and deflected her strike at a speed that seemed impossible.
He leveled his weapon at her—a sword whose shape resembled wolf fangs, from which a crimson aura rippled and flowed.
Aura Blade.
Azest gripped her sword with composure. She compressed her leg muscles to their limit and held her breath for one crucial moment.
Whoosh!
A slash that poured everything into it.
Blood Talon parried the blow. With a force like a mountain, he defended against every attack she unleashed. He read the strikes coming at speeds no ordinary person could follow, and he cut them down one after another.
Blood Talon was a formidable swordsman.
The devastating impact of the Aura Blade cracked through her. Each time steel met steel, every muscle in her body screamed. Damage accumulated steadily, relentlessly.
Boom!
A violent collision erupted. The moment the accumulated shock destabilized Azest’s stance, Blood Talon moved at a speed that surpassed anything before.
He shoved his blade outward with brutal force. Without losing the opening, he pursued her as she retreated to regain her footing.
He threw a slash to force a frontal defense. The instant Azest raised her sword to block, he spun his body and drove a vicious middle kick toward her ribs. Her waist bent at an unnatural angle.
Blood Talon followed with an elbow strike aimed downward at her back. With a sickening crack, her armor shattered.
Azest barely stayed on her feet. Blood Talon sidestepped her low counter-slash with a jump, then brought his Aura Blade down toward her head.
Crash!
Through the Infinite Calculation Space and the Frozen Palace, the strongest third-Circle defensive magic emerged before Azest—Kijad’s Sigh.
The barrier held fast against the Aura Blade. The weapon’s swing lost half a beat in momentum. In that gap, Azest retreated.
Ice spears formed all around Blood Talon as he tried to press forward—Prison Lance lances deployed from every direction.
“Raaaaah!”
With a war cry, he swept his Aura Blade outward. The ice spears shattered like brittle reeds.
Though the attack failed to land, she had achieved her aim. The distance between Azest and Blood Talon had expanded to more than ten meters.
Azest spat blood from her mouth. Her shattered armor was barely hanging by the leather straps across her chest. The Closeline she wore underneath released an alarm.
-Warning. Closeline mana reserves below twenty percent. Defensive capability severely diminished.
Blood Talon spoke with an expression of exasperation.
“Monstrous woman.”
Even as he held his ground against her, the screams of Esteban’s soldiers echoed without end throughout the ice palace she maintained. Azest kept the Frozen Palace active even while facing Blood Talon.
Infinite Calculation Space.
Pouring magic relentlessly forward, she overwhelmed her enemies. She alone held back every warrior that Esteban had sent into the territory.
The number of soldiers she had brought down reached twenty.
“But you’ve reached your limits now.”
Blood Talon’s observation was correct. Azest was no longer in her right state.
To face ninety Esteban soldiers, she was pouring an enormous amount of mana and mental fortitude into maintaining the Frozen Palace in real time.
Her opponent was no less than a Rook-rank Knight. Simply battling him already taxed her to her limits, and performing magical calculations simultaneously clearly exceeded her threshold. Any further strain risked real danger.
Honestly, she didn’t need to push herself. She could flee without consequence.
Her objective was to block the food from being transported out, not to eliminate the enemy. The goal was as good as achieved.
Yet one single thought held her fast.
‘If I lose here, I can never catch up to that bastard.’
Dezir Armang.
Recalling him, Azest endured.
‘That bastard did this sort of thing smiling during our fight.’
Promotion Test.
The bitter taste of that defeat came rushing back.
“I am Dezir Armang…….”
Azest gripped her sword. Runes began to arrange themselves along the blade’s surface. Vast mana stirred to life.
A deep hum filled the air.
The distinctive resonance of a magic sword activating echoed through the chamber.
But the sword’s recoil was no ordinary thing. Part of the Frozen Palace crumbled. A chandelier plummeted, and sections of pillars melted away.
“I transcend it!”
Yet through sheer obstinacy—a will worthy of reverence—she pushed past her own limits and held the Frozen Palace intact.
And then she unleashed another spell.
[Magic Sword: Ice Wave.]
Azest’s ultimate technique.
The air itself froze where the magic sword touched it, leaving trails of white mist like brushstrokes.
The Ice Princess seized the sword of judgment within her own palace.
“Haaaah!”
The Aura Blade and magic sword collided.
A thunderous boom.
The Frozen Palace shuddered violently. The sound was majestic, devastating.
Blood Talon, watching from ahead, noticed something strange. The longsword that had collided with the magic blade was frozen solid—white as fresh snow. Everything from the edge to the hand gripping the hilt was encased in ice.
“……?”
The blade quivered, trembling violently. Steel screamed. A piercing shriek drove into his eardrums—the death cry of metal pushing past its limits.
Confronted by this inexplicable phenomenon, Blood Talon could only stare stupidly at his own sword.
The next moment came.
A deafening crack—
Blood Talon’s sword shattered with a horrible noise. Sharp fragments exploded outward, tearing into him—his skin, his muscle, his entire body rent to shreds.
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
The body that had been hard as steel, the face that had radiated savage beauty—all of it became tattered rags. He could not endure the agony and shrieked. Crimson blood dripped steadily onto the ground beneath him.
He could no longer stand. He collapsed backward, his one remaining eye—the other now gone—fixed upward on Azest.
“I… I can’t… this isn’t…”
His words, when they finally came, were slurred—a blade fragment lodged in his mouth mangled his speech.
Blood Talon could not accept his own defeat.
‘I lost?’
Until now, he had believed himself born to the destiny of a great hero. Among his tribe, he was a warrior none dared challenge, a leader wiser than any other.
He had always been certain that a path of great glory lay before him, that he would become a mighty clan leader commanding a tribe more formidable than any other.
He had been acutely aware of the hero’s path carved into his heart, written in his very blood.
‘But…… I lost……. To a mere child girl……!’
His eyes slowly closed.
‘Fate…… has betrayed me…….’
That thought was wrong.
His fate had not been betrayed—it had been devoured by a greater one.
Azest Kingscrown.
Or rather, Azest Logfallus.
Of imperial blood, future commander of the Expedition into the Shadow Labyrinth where the finest minds of all humanity gather.
An Epic Hero destined to shape the course of human history itself.
Before Azest, his future lay trampled to dust.
* * *
The next morning.
News spread throughout the Evernatton Territory that warriors from Esteban, led by Blood Talon the Hawk Tribe chieftain, had raided the granaries in the dead of night.
The territory’s people murmured about the incompetence of the knights and soldiers who had allowed the intrusion, but the conversation quickly shifted to talk of certain soldiers.
Stories of soldiers who had stood against the Esteban warriors and sounded the alarm bell, despite the legendary Blood Talon himself leading the raid.
These soldiers’ valor stood out all the more when contrasted with the incompetence of the others—thanks to them, the Esteban assault had been detected and swiftly suppressed.
“Whoever these soldiers are, they deserve praise.”
“I heard it was the lord’s personal attendant and a beautiful female knight who rang the bell.”
“But I thought we had no female knights in our territory?”
“A mere servant doing such a thing? That can’t be right. It’s nonsense, wild rumors.”
Meanwhile, another story circulated—of the order’s captain who had single-handedly repelled all the Esteban warriors who came pouring in.
“That’s not all. They say our territory’s captain drove back every last one of the attacking Esteban warriors entirely alone.”
“Come now, surely you don’t expect me to believe that? Even seasoned soldiers find themselves hard-pressed against a single Esteban warrior.”
“That’s plainly absurd.”
“They must have misheard—surely they didn’t say the Order of Knights.”
Most dismissed the tale as exaggeration, yet they offered lavish praise to the three figures who had turned back the Esteban assault.
While rumor spread through the territory, Wilhelm Evernatton, lord of the Evernatton Territory, was reviewing reports sent by his retainers—a summary of the previous night’s events and recommendations on how best to proceed with the aftermath.
“My lord, they have arrived.”
“Has the Order Captain come as well?”
“She mentioned an injury, my lord. She will be slightly delayed. Shall I ask the others to wait?”
“No, show them in.”
Moments later, the door to the lord’s office opened, and Dezir Armang and Fram entered. They knelt before Wilhelm.
“Raise your heads.”
Dezir and Fram lifted their gaze.
Wilhelm looked down at them, his voice measured and grave.
“Are you the ones who rang the bell, alerting the entire territory to the Esteban incursion?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You have done a fine thing indeed. To show courage and not falter when enemies flooded in—to ring the bell and warn the whole territory of the assault. That is a deed worthy of commendation.”
“We are honored, my lord.”
Fram and Dezir replied in unison, and when they glanced at each other, both wore quiet smiles.
Wilhelm’s manner was favorable, and his tone suggested he held their achievement in high regard.
Indeed, their deed had been considerable.
The enemies who came pouring in were all subdued by the territory’s forces, and Blood Talon, one of the long-standing thorns in their side, had been taken alive.
None of it would have been possible without their warning.
‘Fram’s Quest to achieve distinction is Complete.’
Fram’s Quest had been to distinguish himself in combat against Esteban warriors.
‘The lord’s favor should rise as well.’
Building trust with Wilhelm Evernatton was one of the conditions to enter the main scenario. A step toward the true path of progression.
Wilhelm’s mouth opened. Dezir waited for what would follow.
“Ordinarily, this gathering would be meant to honor your achievement.”
‘Ordinarily?’
Dezir’s smile twisted.
He sensed the shift in the air—something amiss.
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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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