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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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He seemed to find my staff less than impressive as a weapon.
“I’ll be using a real sword. Are you sure about that? Even one of those iron bars over there would be better.”
“This may look flimsy, but it’s quite usable once I imbue it with mana. I’ll let you know if it gets dangerous, so don’t worry.”
Since I adamantly refused, Ozma seemed to find it difficult to press the matter further and finally relented.
We then discussed the terms of the spar.
We agreed that Vanessa would act as referee, and the first to land a clean hit would be the victor.
Fighting like the Death Knights, with reckless abandon, would likely result in serious injury for one of us.
Ozma, facing me, drew his sword from its scabbard.
“Don’t overthink it. Just fight as you would in a real battle.”
Easier said than done.
“I’ll go easy on you.”
Hiding my inner thoughts, I bowed my head and assumed a stance, mirroring him.
It was the basic stance of the formal swordsmanship I had learned five years ago when I briefly served in the kingdom’s army as a War Mage.
As we both prepared for battle, a strange tension filled the training grounds.
There was no starting signal, but it was clear to everyone that the spar had begun.
As we sized each other up, Ozma made the first move.
Crack!
As if folding space itself, he closed the five-meter distance between us in an instant, pulling his horizontally raised rapier close to his chest.
“Hah!”
What followed was a lightning-fast triple thrust.
The speed was too great to evade with mere reflexes. I anticipated the trajectory of his blade and countered each thrust by pushing my staff into its path.
Despite his surprise attack failing, Ozma continued his relentless assault with dazzling footwork.
A slash from the upper left, a thrust from the lower right.
He unleashed a flurry of attacks like a dancer, then, spinning his body, he used the centrifugal force to launch a kick at my abdomen.
Of course, I wasn’t about to take it lying down.
I quickly raised my knee to block the high kick aimed at my stomach, then, gripping my staff with both hands, I flicked the end towards Ozma’s chin.
However, as if anticipating my move from the shift in my shoulders, he tilted his head back just in time to avoid the staff’s tip, then leaped back to create distance.
A back-and-forth exchange that lasted less than three minutes.
Slightly hunched over, with his rapier extended, he stared at me with eyes like a cat stalking its prey.
“They say mages are weak in close combat, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with you.”
I twirled my staff like a baton.
“What else can you do when you’re trying to avoid getting stabbed in the back on the battlefield?”
Ozma’s lips curled into a smile, as if amused by my response.
“You… have a point!”
In the brief pause between breaths…
Ozma’s rapier, like the claws of a swift predator, darted towards my throat.
I jerked my head to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade.
The rapier grazed my ear, slicing off a few strands of my short hair.
Without a moment to breathe, I swung my staff at Ozma’s side to keep him at bay.
“Not so fast!”
Clang!
A discordant sound erupted as the staff and rapier collided.
He had reacted remarkably quickly.
“Tch.”
Knowing the disadvantage of fighting in close quarters with a long weapon like a staff, I clicked my tongue and launched a relentless barrage of attacks.
Since the spar would end with the first landed blow, we were both focused on offense.
Ozma, who had initially been on the offensive, seemed taken aback by my sudden change in tactics and struggled to block my attacks.
Unlike a typical staff, mine was weighted towards the top, making each strike heavy. His thin rapier couldn’t deflect the full force of the impacts, and it was clear his wrist would soon suffer.
“Ugh!”
As expected, Ozma’s wrist buckled slightly as he blocked another attack. He winced in pain and was forced to retreat, unable to maintain his defense.
The fight momentarily lulled, giving me a chance to catch my breath.
How long have we been fighting?
It felt like thirty minutes, but the shadows on the ground hadn’t moved. It had only been ten minutes at most.
Without even wiping the sweat dripping from my forehead, I checked the condition of my staff.
It was covered in countless nicks and cuts. Despite reinforcing it with mana, it wouldn’t hold up much longer.
Ozma, standing opposite me, breathing heavily, seemed to have reached the same conclusion. He extended his rapier and offered, almost condescendingly,
“Wouldn’t you like to change your weapon now? It doesn’t look like it will last much longer.”
I calmly shook my head.
“As I said before, I’m fine. I have ways to manage. What about you, Master Ozma? When do you plan to use the magic imbued in your sword?”
“…How did you know?”
“With mana circuits that clearly etched along the blade, it’s hard to miss.”
I didn’t know what kind of magic was embedded in his rapier, but it was likely something that would give him an advantage in combat.
Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, he shifted his grip on the rapier to two hands and assumed a stance.
The sapphire embedded in the pommel began to glow with an icy light, and frost spread along the blade.
Judging by the mana pattern, it’s at least 4th-tier.
Likely a high-quality magic sword.
Its sharpness would easily slice my cheap staff in two.
Pointing the frost-covered, blue rapier at me, Ozma said,
“Since we’ve come this far, there’s no point in prolonging this. How about we settle this with the next strike?”
“I like that idea.”
Our hand-to-hand combat skills seemed evenly matched.
It was only fitting to decide the victor with something else.
I accepted his proposal. After we both caught our breath, the spar resumed.
Ozma had always initiated the attacks, but this time, I made the first move.
“Ha!”
Knowing its usefulness as a weapon was at an end, I hurled my staff like a javelin.
Ozma flinched in surprise but quickly ducked, avoiding the projectile.
“Foolish!”
The staff, missing him completely, landed on the ground with a loud thud.
Ozma, pushing off the ground, charged towards me, now completely unarmed, his icy rapier aimed at my chest.
“Got you.”
Ozma’s expression shifted to one of confusion as he heard my words, but it was too late to stop his forward momentum.
I spread my arms.
Left hand rotating clockwise, right hand counter-clockwise.
The wind element generated within me swirled in opposite directions, creating a miniature tornado.
Quadra Spell—
Whirlwind Bone Cutter
The tornadoes that enveloped my forearms instantly swallowed Ozma’s frost-covered rapier as it reached me.
Crackle, crackle, screech!
Like something caught in a blender, the rapier’s blade was instantly shredded. Ozma’s face went blank as he stared at the mangled remains in his hand.
I didn’t press my advantage, instead striking his chest armor with my wind-enveloped fists.
Boom!
Ozma’s body flew back like a cannonball, crashing hard against the wall surrounding the training grounds.
The short spar had concluded.
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“Master Ozma!”
Vanessa, who had been watching the spar, rushed towards the fallen Ozma.
Not only was his sword broken, but his breastplate, ripped apart by the whirlwind, was in tatters.
“Master Ozma! Wake up!”
Vanessa cradled the unconscious Ozma, desperately shaking his shoulders.
“I thought I was holding back…”
I started to approach and apologize, wondering if I had gone too far, when I noticed something odd.
Ozma’s chest, visible through the damaged armor, was tightly bound with bandages.
Don’t tell me…
At that moment, Ozma’s eyes snapped open.
“…What? Did I faint?”
He awkwardly sat up in Vanessa’s arms, then, realizing his chest was exposed due to the damaged armor and clothing, he frantically looked around.
His eyes met mine, and he blushed, quickly covering himself.
“D-Don’t look!”
It turned out that Ozma, the child of Demon Lord Nero, wasn’t a prince.
She was a princess.
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Aha. Cliche, but I like it.