A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 73

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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 73. Terror (5)

A new wave of Outers had appeared. They bore little resemblance to those they’d faced until now.
Twenty Outers stood garbed in identical armor to the ones who had clashed with the knights at the palace—black plate mail, quality blades in hand, and their mages all seemed to have reached at least 3rd Circle or beyond.
They began slaughtering the Defense Force soldiers. The gap in ability was stark. There was no stopping them, no holding ground. Among the Defense Force, scarcely anyone possessed the skill to match them.
‘Damn it. If more fighters of this caliber keep pouring through, we won’t last much longer.’
Resetting the coordinates of the Spatial Displacement gate was critical, and quickly.
Dezir Armang issued orders to his companions.
“Fram, Romantica! Protect the soldiers—don’t let them fall any further!”
“Yes!”
“Got it!”
The battlefield erupted into fierce combat.
Fram joined the fray, wielding the Silver Triple Swords as he engaged one of the Outers. Fram held a decisive advantage.
Romantica also moved to check another Outer. With both of them in play, they might not seize the upper hand entirely, but they wouldn’t be pushed back into chaos as they had been before.
“Haaaah!”
Crash!
The ceiling collapsed, the stairs gave way. The melee unfolding in that confined space was brutal.
Outers still remained in number.
“To reset the Spatial Displacement gate’s coordinates, I need to approach its nexus. Cover me, Azest.”
Azest carved open a path from the front, while Dezir Armang provided support from behind.
As he systematically broke down the enemy’s spells, Dezir deployed occasional 3rd Circle magic to hold his ground against the Outers.
His 3rd Circle spells were remarkably swift, their power far more formidable. He methodically subdued each of their 3rd Circle mages one by one, drawing closer to the heart of the Spatial Displacement gate.
The Outers, recognizing that Azest and Dezir Armang were moving toward the gate, began concentrating their efforts to block them.
At first it had been manageable, but when a combination of Knight-rank Swordmaster and 3rd Circle mage grasped the seriousness of the situation and moved to intercept Azest, their advance halted. They were now only a few paces from the gate.
“This distance will suffice. Hold them for five minutes, Azest.”
Before the Spatial Displacement gate.
The reverse-calculation began. What Dezir Armang had to do was initialize the coordinates of the Spatial Displacement gate that the Outers had tampered with, then restore them to their original state.
Since Spatial Displacement magic itself was 5th Circle magic, the computational load was immense.
‘Using the Ice Palace is out of the question for now.’
Azest watched the Outers advancing toward her and began calculating her approach to combat.
The Ice Palace was magic that allowed her to deploy any spell she wished infinitely within a designated area.
Just as she had faced Estebans simultaneously in the Shadow World, its power was formidable and more than sufficient against Outers—yet in a chaotic melee like this, it was a difficult spell to employ.
If she deployed the Ice Palace now, with both enemy and ally forces intermixed, her own soldiers risked being caught in its effects.
Azest had only one strategy available.
‘Then I must face them with pure magic and swordsmanship alone.’
She raised her blade and swung it at the enemy before her. Her opponent wielded a short sword in one hand and a long sword in the other—a dual-blade style.
The moment she lowered her head to slip past an incoming slash from the side, a follow-up strike came immediately.
Her blade met the Outer’s. While the impact favored Azest, the dual-sword wielder attacked with such relentless speed that rashly pressing forward might leave her exposed.
Azest tightened her grip on the hilt.
Crack.
And she swung.
Fast. Faster.
“Ugh!?”
Caught off guard, the Outer crossed both blades to block her strike.
Boom!
Sparks flew.
The Outer stumbled backward but executed a fluid roll that brought him to his feet. There was no respite, however. Azest gave him no opening, pressing the offensive relentlessly.
He breathed hard, clearly excited. Blood stained his lips, which he licked as he howled.
“You’re strong! Truly strong! Really strong!”
“…….”
The Outer deployed an extraordinarily unorthodox swordsmanship. His blade traced a remarkably fluid path, seamless and flowing. Most threatening of all, he attacked without fear of taking wounds, which made him dangerously unpredictable.
Azest found him considerably troublesome.
As the exchange of blades continued, for a single instant Azest’s attention shifted toward the mage behind him. She sensed magic being woven.

[Summon Lightning.]

A 3rd Circle lightning spell.
Azest held her sword in one hand to parry the Outer’s blade, while extending her other palm toward the mage.
She shoved the locked swords back with force, casting a spell to form an ice dome that swallowed the magic whole.
Boom!
The ice exploded. Lightning detonated from within the dome.
The Outer brushed soot from his blackened hair and scorched clothes, visibly incensed. He began launching a second spell.
“Come on, make this more fun!”
“I don’t have time to play with the likes of you.”

Magic Sword: Ice Wave.

“—!?”
The air froze along the arc of Azest’s blade as she swung.
The Outer swordmaster sensed the Magic Sword’s danger instinctively and scrambled backward.
‘Exactly as I predicted.’
Her true target was the mage who had been casting.
The swordmaster facing her had read the situation quickly and retreated, but the mage behind him did not. Concentrating on calculating the 3rd Circle spell, he had no clear grasp of what was unfolding around him.
At that very moment, the mage had just completed his 3rd Circle spell and unleashed it toward Azest.
Crackle!
A menacing sphere of lightning hurtled toward her. Without hesitation, Azest swung her Magic Sword to meet it.
Crash!
A tingling sensation shot through her hand, and Azest’s brow furrowed. But it had worked. She’d cut the spell clean through.
“Wha—!?”
The mage’s carefully woven magic vanished with a single stroke, and his shock was palpable. He stood utterly defenseless.
As Azest closed the distance, the mage spun and bolted in panic.
“—!”
But there was no escaping her speed. She drove the pommel of her sword into his solar plexus.
Thud.
A sharp crack echoed through the air. The mage, overwhelmed by the impact, lost consciousness with his eyes rolled back. One threat eliminated.
As Azest made this assessment, the voice of the last man rang out.
“Ha! Then I’ll finish things on my end!”
While she’d been occupied with the mage, the swordmaster had seized the opening to rush toward Dezir.

Ice Lance.

With the mage dealt with, dispatching the last man was child’s play. Two spears of ice manifested and struck the ground before the swordmaster in quick succession.
He froze for an instant.

Gris.
Azest closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.
Seeing her bear down at terrifying speed, the swordmaster faltered and backpedaled.
“Wh—wh—wh—!”
That hesitation was his undoing. Azest shot forward in a straight line and collided with him directly.
“Ugh!”
The swordmaster flew backward and crashed into the wall, his two daggers clattering to the ground with a loud clang.
Azest closed in again, driving her fist into his ribs as he tried to rise.
“Gack!”
His upper body crumpled lifelessly. Even so, his hand fumbled for the dagger hidden at his waist.
Azest gave him no opening to draw. A low kick swept his legs out from under him.
“Aaaaagh!”
The swordmaster screamed as pain beyond imagination coursed through him.
Azest’s foot lashed out again, catching his face.
Blood streamed from the swordmaster’s nose, and two of his front teeth shattered. Unconsciousness claimed him.
“Coordinates recalibrated. Good—now I just need to reactivate the gate……”
Dezir’s calculations had come to completion at precisely that moment.
Whiiiiiirr!
The runes beneath the Spatial Displacement gate shifted from crimson to brilliant blue. The gate was closing. The Outer could not hide his shock.
The Defense Force commanders caught the shift and raised their voices in command.
“Crush the remaining stragglers! They have no reinforcements!”
“Roaaaagh!”
Now it was merely a matter of holding the line—if reinforcements from the Defense Force arrived, they would have as good as won. The tide turning in their favor lifted the spirits of the Defense Force soldiers.
The battle was hurtling toward its end. Dezir Armang’s gaze found Azest. He felt a profound gratitude toward her for enduring so well.
“Let’s finish off the remaining stragglers.”
“Understood.”
In the final throes of combat, as Dezir Armang swept through the Outer forces alongside the Defense Force, his mind suddenly turned to that man in the raven mask—the one conspicuously absent from this battlefield. Since the initial attack, he had vanished without a trace.
‘He doesn’t seem like the type to back away now…….’
Where could he have gone?
It was a question that would remain unanswered until that man emerged once more.

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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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