Chapter 40: Don’t Worry, I Might Just Accidentally Kill You

“Did you remember everything I told you?” Komor kept reminding me from behind.

“Got it,” I replied. “During the duel, release a Saint-level aura; always shout the spell name before casting; no close-range face punches, and no bashing heads with the staff up close.”

The princess and I left the manor, walking toward town. I was in a foul mood—all these restrictions weighed on me. After an emergency discussion between Komor and the Old Mage, the council unanimously agreed: Comrade Mashang’s situation was highly unusual. His silent casting ability must stay hidden unless absolutely necessary, to avoid trouble.

“What’s the big deal? It’s just silent casting,” I muttered.

“Be good~ Hehe~ I know you’re strong, senior brother. But ordinary folks won’t understand. Just be considerate, okay?”

“...Don’t treat me like a child!” I knew deep down that exposing silent casting might get me dissected by legendary experts. But these limits crippled my combat skills—it felt awful, especially since I couldn’t memorize all those chants.

“Promise you’ll remember!” Princess Komor insisted repeatedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved impatiently. My “Assault Zaku” Elemental Armor hasn’t been shown yet. When you see it, you’ll be over the moon.

“By the way, why remodel the ‘Three-Headed Inferno Hound’ into a stick shape?”

“Convenience!”

“How?”

“Watch!” I stopped walking, pulled out the “Three-Headed Inferno Hound,” and gripped it in my right hand. My left hand condensed a blazing fireball, which I tossed upward. Grabbing the staff’s end with both hands, I swung it instantly. As the fireball touched the magic array at the tip, elements rearranged rapidly. Propelled by the strike, it arced beautifully onto a nearby hilltop.

BOOM~ Flames erupted violently. A heatwave swept toward us, blowing dust into Princess Komor’s open mouth.

“Ptooey! Sand in my mouth!” She spat out her tongue. “What—what did you do? How?”

“If I go too deep, you might not get it. Simple version,” I said, walking toward town while explaining. “Typical offensive spells have three phases: energy gathering, movement, activation. Old magic systems write arrays for all three via mental power. I shifted gathering to my left hand and movement to the staff’s swing. On impact, the staff’s array identifies the element type. It then picks the optimal activation array based on gathered amount, reconfiguring elements instantly. Normally, you’d write all arrays. My staff cuts the work by two-thirds—faster, easier. Perfect for toddlers and grandparents.”

“...Don’t use this function for now,” Princess Komor said firmly.

“Are you kidding? This can’t be used, that can’t be used. Why not tie me up and let him hit me? Seriously, worried about your fiancé?”

“Shut up! I’d rather blast him myself,” the princess cursed—a rare outburst.

“Exactly! Blast him first, worry later.”

“Can’t you fight like a normal mage?”

“I could! But I’m afraid of nose punches.”

I arrived at the dueling ground with messy hair. Kasa, captain of the Silver Scale Guard, ran over. “Young Master Klath, why so late?! The duel’s about to start!”

“Ah~ Overslept.”

“But it’s 3 PM!”

“...Afternoon nap.”

“Your hairstyle?”

“My cat scratched it.”

“Strange—does Lord Joseph have a cat?”

Of course he does! I glanced back at a certain princess-cat strolling leisurely behind me. Was a joke worth this much fuss? My scalp still ached! What if I went bald?

“Has that guy arrived?”

“Your Highness, why are you out alone again?”

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

“Everyone, diamond formation to protect the princess!”

“...” I watched Kasa bustling about, speechless. He might be sneaky, but his loyalty was solid. With no answer, I scanned the area.

This training ground lay southwest of Crescent Town, beside Crescent Lake. I’d never been here before—guess I shouldn’t stay home or I’ll turn into a shut-in. The Silver Scale Guard had cleared the crowds; private booking?

“Young Master Klath, what did you ask?”

“Are your reflexes that slow?”

“What slow?”

“Nothing. When’s that guy coming?”

“Young Master Ster arrived early. Since you were late, he browsed the commercial street. He should be back—ah! There he is.”

Following Kasa’s finger, I saw four figures approaching from the street. Leading them was Ster, the Imperial Capital’s pretty boy. Behind him: a burly warrior with a battle-axe, a scar running from left eye to mouth; a mage in loose robes, nine suns embroidered on his chest—a Ninth-Level Solar Mage, nearly Saint-level; and a short man oozing repulsive energy, yet blending with nature, making my instincts scream caution. The dwarf was most dangerous—I couldn’t pin his class. Unknowns are always perilous.

“Hmph! No sense of time. You’re late,” I taunted Ster.

“What? It was you—”

“Us? We’ve been waiting! Problem? Hurry up—I need dinner.”

Filing false accusations first is my signature move.

“Fine! Today, I’ll make sure you never eat again!” Ster’s face twisted. He snatched a staff from his mage and strode to the center. I drew my staff from my belt.

“Hey! Darling! Your posture!”

“Huh? Posture? Changing it tonight?”

“The staff grip!” Princess Komor stamped her foot.

“Oh, right. Habit.” I shifted my hand to the staff’s head, cracked my neck, and walked to the other end.

“I’ll witness and medic this duel. Objections?” The Ninth-Level Solar Mage spoke, moving to the sidelines.

“No objection,” Ster replied with a sneer.

“No! He’ll be biased!” the princess objected.

“Your Highness isn’t a participant—you have no say,” the scar-faced man called out.

“Fine. Be the witness,” I waved dismissively.

“Good, then I de—”

“Hold it. Straight talk: if you can’t stop it, I might accidentally take you out too.”

“Young master worries too much. To save Ster, I might accidentally take you out,” the mage sneered. “Begin!”

Ster began chanting softly. Without my Elemental Sniper, I couldn’t ID his spell. As elemental ripples intensified, I prepared mine.

“Lightning? My favorite element! This gathering intensity—high-level spell. Starting strong?” I gripped my staff, pressing it down. “Earth Wall!” Dense earth elements surged, raising a barrier.

“Ridiculous! Earth against lightning? Suicidal?” the scar-faced man muttered to the dwarf.

“Fool, watch closely. Clever kid! Five-chant casting—his skill matches little Ster’s,” the dwarf rasped.

As Ster’s spell formed, my second was ready. I swung my staff. “Water Ball!” A cluster slammed into the earth wall. I lifted the staff again—water balls flew toward Ster. Only one hit; the rest splashed ground.

“By my command, destroy all! Roar of the Thunder Dragon!” Ster’s spell completed. A dense lightning bolt shot toward my earth wall.

ZZZT! Lightning followed water trails into the ground, then surged along wet paths toward the soaked Ster.

“Young master! Dodge!” the sideline mage shouted. Ster rolled away like a donkey, barely evading.

“Hmph! Waited for that!” I swung my staff. “Cloud Step!” Two strides brought me to the edge, ten meters from the Solar Mage. “Interfering with the duel? Leave your life here too!”

I unleashed Saint-level mental pressure. Faces paled. No time for reactions. “Die! Great Fire Explosion!”

Scorching fire surged toward the Solar Mage. Having lent his staff to Ster, he fumbled a defense scroll—barely blocking my blast.

From seeing those four, I knew Ster meant to kill me. Their practiced ease hinted this wasn’t their first scheme.

“Cui?! Brat, how dare you!” The scar-faced man drew his axe, charging in.

“Hmph! Tanst! Think I, Kasa, don’t exist? Want to lose your other eye too?” Kasa stood firm between Tanst and the training ground.