His body moved as soon as he noticed.
Allen was already out of Deverre’s range by the time the chimera sorcerer showed the signs of attack.
He saw the attack coming from overhead.
Allen moved his fingertips, and dark green swords came raining down on Deverre.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, Allen’s sword skills were far worse than that of a soldier.
Probably physically worse than the average person as well.
In that case…
‘Play to your strengths.’
A myriad of swords.
The threads wove themselves together, its green hue streaking across like a shooting star.
Then, he moved.
Crackle.
Confident in his body, Deverre broke the swords with each attack. A single swing broke them, surrounding him in verbant debris.
He moved his fingertips at each attack, growing closer each moment.
Clang!
Allen aimed an attack at his center of balance.
His previously quick movements ceased.
The swords moved.
Deverre’s line of sight, his center of gravity, his tells—Allen already knew everything.
What else did he need?
No.
‘What’s the most lacking?’
The never-ending barrage of raining swords continued.
Yet there were no fatal injuries anywhere on Deverre’s body.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
The chimera sorcerer let out a terrible cry.
His muscles swelled up, ignoring the attack.
His red eyes quickly turned to find Allen.
“…It’s difficult, trying to recover so quickly.”
“Hm? Are you dissatisfied with the body you’ve worked so hard on?”
Laughing like a madman, Deverre responded, “Yeah, it’s a little lacking… I need a younger body, huh.”
With those words, he shouted and began to close the distance between them like an aggravated bull.
Shielding only his chest, he rushed in with greedy eyes.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
Swords rained down once again. Allen’s mana fluctuated.
How much longer could he hold out?
‘Maybe I could do this two, no, around three more times.’
His body, already overworked, was severely fatigued.
He needed something that he could do in time.
He then closed his eyes.
Dozens of ideas came to mind and disappeared.
The ring around his heart began to spin rapidly, synthesizing a thread.
The thing he needed to make right now. The thing he needed to imagine at his moment.
He instantly formed, unraveled, and reformed figures again.
Then, a certain scene came to mind.
His mana responded accordingly, letting out a loud cry.
Deverre finally sustained what could be called a wound, cutting into his skin.
However, he appeared to give no care for the little scratch, and he rushed straight ahead.
Allen opened his eyes.
Now that Deverre was sure to reach him in a little bit, he’d found his solution.
The chimera sorcerer’s red eyes glistened with excitement.
And at last, at the moment Deverre reached a transcendental level of physical ability…
“Prepare to die.”
…Allen flicked his fingertips.
Bang.
That was enough.
Allen’s body flew sideways from the strong shockwave.
At the same time, Deverre’s attack shook the space where Allen had been standing.
The ensuing violent gust of wind pushed their hair back.
He saw Deverre, unable to understand the situation.
Did he not think that Allen could avoid the attack?
“…”
As Allen swallowed the oncoming blood, he pointed his finger towards him.
However, he noticed too late. Before he could move his body, parts of the debris scattered around them began to wrap around him and grind into his body.
A body with strength that could rip steel apart with its bare hands couldn’t be broken by ordinary methods.
He needed one thing: an opening.
And a sword to shove into it.
‘I’ve found everything there is to find.’
Deverre had unconsciously covered his chest with his hand.
Dozens of translucent musical instruments formed a beautiful echo around, creating harmony and resonance within the space around them.
Riiiiiiiing…
The threads began to gather into one form.
His creation was intricate, as if he had dedicated his entire life to sculpting.
The desired sword.
Deverre covered his ears with more force than he thought was necessary and gave an ugly smile.
“Is this also the extent of your magic? It’s even more amazing than I’d thought…”
Debris, shattered fragments, Allen’s threads.
All of it wove together, tangling to become one.
Separation, Amputation, Space, Spirits, Contracts, Awakening, Liberation.
He refined his imagination to transform it into magic.
The essence of magic was not studying, and a sorcerer was not a scholar.
‘If it doesn’t make sense, then the magic cannot flow.’
Magic changed reality in accordance with the sorcerer’s imagination.
Although the sorcerer must be brilliant in regards to their system of magic, they didn’t actually need to go along with what they believed to be the essence of that magic.
If that kind of sorcerer called themself a chimera sorcerer, then the result was just that.
“Now, be obedient and come be a part of me…”
Accept the price for abandoning magic.
Above Deverre’s head, a sword with only half a blade rose.
With an elegant smile, Allen answered as he glanced at him, sitting right in front of him.
“No, that’s not going to be possible.”
As if to mark the end of his response, he pinched his fingers together.
“Because I have a lot to do.”
Then, the sword dropped.
“What are you—Hm?!”
Thud!
Deverre collapsed.
“No, this…”
His body began to melt, boiling down into a steaming, bubbling liquid.
In that black lump lay an ugly, old man.
“What, can you not believe it?”
“Th-This is unbelievable. How? How could this happen?”
“You must be surprised to find that this is the result of abandoning magic.”
Allen passed through the sticky liquid to stand in front of him.
The answer was simple. It wasn’t his body, nor was it his soul that he was after. It was the stone sword that Deverre had put into his heart.
While blocking Allen’s attack, Deverre had put too much protection around his chest.
At first, Allen had written it off as a part of a means of defense. However, despite having had a protective shell to cover each vital point, Deverre still opted to perform the excessive movement in order to protect his chest.
‘His transformation wasn’t complete.’
His speculation became truth the moment he was about to shatter him.
Although his arms had become severely injured, Deverre continued using them to block his chest.
“Speaking of, aren’t you curious about why I’m here now?”
At the end of the day, even though Allen had been half-sure, he couldn’t deny that it was a gamble. With the magic he could use now, he knew he couldn’t pierce Deverre’s armor or muscles at all.
“No, it doesn’t matter. Please, young one. Please spare me. I’m useful, I promise.”
Instead of spouting delusional objections, Deverre quickly accepted reality.
“Could you be in need of another servant by chance? Please, oh please, young one.”
More than his strength or magic, Deverre’s ability to quickly accept reality and search for countermeasures put Allen off a little bit.
“I have a lot of knowledge. You’re as full of treasures as how long you’ve lived. And that’s useful. Aren’t you curious why I stationed myself here in the mountains?”
Without hesitation, he humbly pleaded with the one who he’d been fighting as an enemy only a moment ago…
‘I don’t need to keep him alive.’
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Allen was indeed curious about the chimera sorcerer’s identity and the reason why he was there. However, those were things he could just investigate on his own.
“I’m sorry, but I already have two maids with me.”
Without hesitation, he set his foot on Deverre’s head.
“Young one, please, please… Would you happen to need treasure? Or ancient relics? Or perhaps a lady…?”
Smash.
And like that, the master of the chimeras who had occupied the area for so long—the man who had kidnapped Inellia—died so easily, unable to live up to his notoriety.
Allen held up the old man’s head by the hair just in case.
Roll.
His head was swiftly chopped off with a blade and rolled on the floor.
Allen’s heart burst with emotion. He started to relax, understanding that it was all over.
He let out a long breath. Perhaps it was because of his excessive use of magic unsuitable for a Rank 1 sorcerer, but his heart throbbed, and his fingers couldn’t stop trembling.
“Just like I thought, I need to raise my rank quickly. My skills too.”
He had put enough effort into his spell, but it wasn’t manifested completely.
It wasn’t possible to implement all seven spells properly with only one ring.
‘I almost wasn’t able to use one spell because of how little mana I had left…’
Honestly, he couldn’t help but think that it was a close call.
He was able to seize the opportunity because Deverre hadn’t yet given up his humanity, and he chose to act to cover up his weaknesses in a show of distrust for his body.
Nevertheless, had that also failed… Allen would have had to prepare for a long battle.
“That’s terrible.”
It must have been a battle of whether Deverre would adapt to his body or Allen would one-up him first.
As he gathered his thoughts and removed the stone sword out of the chimera sorcerer’s arms, he was enveloped by a tickling sensation.
“What is this?”
The sensation he felt just now came from Deverre. However, he was definitely dead.
As Allen closed his eyes and heightened his senses, two lines that were connected to the corpse had become visible.
The strings shook violently, as if they could vanish at any second.
“Could it be?”
The corners of his mouth rose.
If he was correct, he would’ve reaped a valuable harvest.
Upon closer inspection, those two lines appeared to be connected to Inellia and Regnor.
Allen quickly gathered the two strings.
The wavering strings connected to Allen, flashing white for a period before becoming clear and stable.
“…How nice.”
The result he had gained from researching the contract system.
Allen had never been so grateful that he had mastered the said system.
“And…”
His gaze soon turned towards the stone sword laying on Deverre’s chest.
Perhaps it was because of his magic, but its ugly appearance had changed to a plain stone sword.
A pattern appeared to be engraved on it.
Eight small dots rotated in different directions around a red eye…
“It’s like a star.”
However, there was no evidence there other than that.
The stone sword appeared to be made of even smaller common stones.
What was unusual was that it was well-polished, so much so that his face reflected on the surface.
Allen recalled the pattern on the sword as he held it in his arms. Looking around, he saw a familiar scene smashed in by their battle.
Rotting bodies and various unidentifiable parts.
In that time, he also found countless bodies that had appeared to have recently died.
A certain scene came to mind.
A skull-stacked altar, a blood-covered floor.
Bodies scattered around, as if there were no respect for death.
“Who’s blaming who?”
He had many thoughts.
He laid the corpses down on the ground, one by one.
Their bodies were sparse. Some without arms, others without legs. Their eyes scowled at him.
He moved one.
‘Knowing about the future doesn’t mean that you know everything going into it.’
He moved another.
‘For everything to go as you’d planned, you might as well be god.’
This time, a child’s body. He paused for a moment.
The child was a girl with reddish-brown hair. She would’ve been cute if she were alive. She was surely loved.
Yet now, her pupils were empty.
Allen quickly tamed his wavering emotions. Would the result be different if he hadn’t waited and instead acted quickly?
He shouldn’t have waited for his father to test him, but if he’d made a move without being told…
‘No, that’s wrong.’
Waiting to get the right timing was the best option. How could he even know that he would get the ideal outcome from rushing things? The end goal was to save his brother.
The end result here was that he had won his brother’s favor.
However, in exchange, a resident…
“…I’m sorry.”
The words spilled out from his mouth. He quickly let them out. It wasn’t like anyone was watching.
“Because I couldn’t get here any sooner… Because I couldn’t protect you all…”
His mouth didn’t stop moving. Words kept flowing out like waterfalls, as if there were an open dam on his face.
“I just wanted to save my brother… No, it was my greed.”
He had to save his brother. He wanted to.
However, if he asked himself whether or not it was necessary to replicate his past actions, he couldn’t answer.
Because he didn’t want his knowledge of the future to change.
‘There were plenty of other ways. We could’ve cleaned this place out quickly and finished up all the monsters that popped up afterwards, or something.’
There was a way.
It would’ve worked out if, after a few months, he could’ve sorted out the monsters who appeared in the region and dealt with those trying to undermine his family and their status.
It’s just… It’s just that.
“…Since I was also here in the past, I wanted to take advantage of it.”
Just waiting for incidents to arise and preparing for them. How comfortable.
No reason to be afraid of sudden accidents, no reason to be surprised.
It was comfortable when you could act calm, as if you knew everything.
“And because of that, all of you are dead.”
What’s the difference between the two of them, then?
Is it right to sacrifice innocent people for your own personal gain?
The worries that he’d already resolved once again asked him:
Can you do it?
Under the guise of saving your brother, can you sacrifice everything else?
“…I… I can.”
He could. He had to.
He felt nauseous. Dizzy.
What was he even doing here now? He wasn’t with Julius.
It was all just an excuse.
So now he was serious about accepting him as his little brother? Haha. What a laugh.
Providing the family with his knowledge of the future that he could remember, collecting beautiful ladies, and just waiting for disasters after already thoroughly preparing.
Like a bastard? Like that?
“I can’t do it like that.”
An empty laugh passed. He couldn’t do it.
All the bodies had been moved—dozens of them.
How many young people had been taken even before then?
It felt like all of the dead children were staring at him.
He didn’t hide from their gaze.
This was going to happen again in the future.
In order to win Julius’s favor.
To find treasure.
Or for the changing future.
Nevertheless, would he act as he had now?
“I…”
He turned.
The wind blew, mixing with the foul stench.
“I will remember you all.”
Allen felt someone’s gaze from behind him. He didn’t look, but took a step backwards.
The entrance was still filled with that terrible smell.
That god-awful stench.
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