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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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“Ed…!”
Charlotte, now returned to her original form, clutched her pounding chest as she looked at Ed.
There was something about him—like he was being reborn as someone entirely new—that reminded her of herself when she wore the mask.
‘O-Of course… I still need more training…!’
But her power was still unstable.
She had been warned that overuse could lead to a dangerous merging of her two selves, the masked and the unmasked.
Enya, however, watched Ed with a downcast expression.
She had lost her previous match, stubbornly clinging to her still-developing Quickdraw technique.
‘Ed keeps getting stronger… while I…’
Lately, Enya felt like she was regressing.
She had entered the academy hailed as a swordsmanship prodigy, but her insistence on mastering Quickdraw had hampered her overall progress.
Was this truly the right path?
If she lost her next match, she wouldn’t be able to join Ed on the expedition to the Sea Wall…
Bang!
A sudden surge of mana erupted from Lucas.
Just when everyone thought the match was over, he returned, expelling the hallucinogenic powder from his system through sheer force of will.
“…Edgar Fix.”
Lucas opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Ed, who was now fully suited up, save for the helmet.
The odds were stacked against him.
“You are my target now.”
But Lucas, far from being discouraged, burned with renewed determination.
He took his stance, declaring Ed as his target.
– Waaaaah!
– That’s the spirit! Lucas won’t go down that easily!
The crowd roared back to life.
The academy was now divided: Team Ed versus Team Lucas.
Everyone held their breath, anticipating the outcome.
This wasn’t just another match; it was a clash between the academy’s two strongest students, excluding Isabella.
It had to live up to the name.
“I thought it’d take you longer to snap out of it, but you recovered quickly.”
Ed looked surprised.
Lucas’s awakening wasn’t supposed to happen until after his humiliating defeat at the Allied Kingdom Goodwill Tournament.
“…Let’s begin.”
Lucas didn’t waste words.
He launched himself at Ed, a blur of motion.
“Good. That’s the spirit.”
Ed responded in kind, firing a repulsor beam at the oncoming Lucas.
The Spatial Control Formula warped the trajectory of multiple beams, sending them hurtling back towards Ed.
They dissipated harmlessly against his Plasma Mana Shield.
Dozens of daggers materialized in mid-air, converging on Ed from all angles.
The Plasma Mana Shield held.
Then, the daggers appeared inside the shield, a completely unexpected tactic.
They aimed for the suit’s joints, its weakest points.
Whirrrrrr!
A combination of telekinesis and short-range spatial manipulation turned the daggers into whirling drills, seeking to penetrate the suit’s defenses.
Ed retaliated with repulsor beams, forcing Lucas to defend and the spinning daggers fell to the ground.
Ed, seeing that ranged attacks were ineffective, charged, switching to close combat.
Lucas, however, used short bursts of spatial teleportation to evade, creating distance.
The battle became a high-speed chase.
Lucas controlled the daggers, keeping Ed at bay, while Ed used his enhanced mobility to close the gap.
Ed launched himself into the air with a web-line, only to feel a sudden loss of momentum.
Lucas had teleported a section of the web, severing it.
Ed plummeted.
Shhhwwwwing!
The scattered daggers merged, forming a single, massive blade and its tip glowed ominously as it aimed for Ed’s exposed back.
If he landed, even the suit wouldn’t be able to withstand that blow.
Fwoosh!
Suddenly, nozzles extended from Ed’s shoulders, firing powerful jets of compressed air, propelling him out of the blade’s path with blinding speed.
– Holy…
– Another new trick…
Ed, through his constant tinkering and upgrades, had finally achieved a rudimentary form of flight.
All that remained was to develop a control system.
“Damn!”
But the fight wasn’t over.
Lucas redirected the daggers and relentlessly pursued Ed.
Ed fired webs, ensnaring the projectiles, sending them crashing to the ground.
With Lucas momentarily disarmed, Ed closed the distance and his fist connected with Lucas’s solar plexus.
Thud!
“Ugh!”
A searing pain shot through Lucas, as if his muscles were tearing.
But he didn’t give up.
Freed from the burden of expectations, he poured all his energy into the fight.
It wasn’t about vanity anymore; it was about forging his own path, his own convictions.
He hadn’t found them yet, but he would burn brightly, testing himself against the unyielding wall that was Edgar Fix.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The battle raged.
Ed’s punches landed, and Lucas countered, each blow taking its toll.
Crackle… Sizzle…
Ed’s suit began to show signs of damage.
The mobility system was completely wrecked, and his left arm, its power conduits severed, was unresponsive.
Thud!
“Guh!”
But the match was nearing its end.
Lucas, depleted of mana, could no longer maintain his spatial teleportation.
Ed’s final punch sent him sprawling, unable to continue.
“Match over! Lucas is out of mana. Edgar Fix wins!”
The referee, using his Clear Eye to confirm Lucas’s mana depletion, declared Ed the victor.
The arena erupted in cheers.
– Waaaaah!
– Ed! Ed! Ed! Ed! Ed!
The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Lucas had envisioned himself basking in that adulation, standing triumphant over a defeated Edgar Fix.
‘But… this feels good…’
Despite the loss, he smiled.
The cheers no longer mattered.
The weight of expectations, the pressure to live up to his family name, had lifted.
He felt a sense of freedom, a lightness he hadn’t known before.
He had accepted his imperfections, acknowledged the mercenary blood flowing through his veins.
‘I’ve… never even visited his grave.’
It struck him that he had never paid his respects to his father, too consumed with upholding the Elmar name.
“Lucas.”
A figure, backlit by the arena lights, extended a hand.
Edgar Fix.
The man who had embraced his roots, who had forged his own path.
“That was a good fight.”
Lucas looked at Ed.
His expression wasn’t mocking, as it had been in the hallucination.
It was… encouraging, almost as if he was acknowledging Lucas’s newfound resolve.
“I learned a lot. I still have a long way to go.”
Lucas smiled and took Ed’s hand.
A surge of strength pulled him to his feet.
He stood beside Ed, the roar of the crowd washing over them.
They were cheering for both of them, for the spectacle they had created.
Lucas looked at Ed, marveling at his strength.
What was the source of his power?
He couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t grasp the driving force behind Ed’s relentless pursuit of strength.
‘But…’
One thing was certain.
He now had his own reason to strive for greatness.
He felt a sense of admiration for this man who had embraced his origins and carved his own path.
He wanted to stand beside him as an equal, as a comrade.
‘If I keep training…’
He didn’t doubt it.
If he could find his own unwavering conviction, like Ed, he could stand by his side.
He walked forward, supported by Ed’s arm.
“Lucas.”
At that moment—
Ed called out to him.
Lucas met Ed’s eyes.
A serious gaze, almost melancholic.
Had he also gained some profound insight from their battle?
“Want some Macbeth pork?”
No.
Growl—
Ed’s stomach growled loudly.
He was hungry.
“…Heh. Sure. I’m starving.”
Lucas chuckled.
He must’ve lost too much blood.
He was starting to assign meaning to everything.
“It’s delicious wrapped in kimchi.”
Growl—
His own stomach growled.
He had no idea what kimchi was, but his mouth watered.
Ed and Lucas, envisioning plates piled high with juicy Macbeth pork, walked out of the arena together.
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