𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
“Understood. First, let’s see your skills. We’ll judge after that.”
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Sir Wilfred nodded.
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“Thank you.”
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“Luke! And Otou-sama as well!”
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Alma raised her voice in protest.
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“It’s okay, Alma.”
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Luke whispered in Alma’s ear.
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“It seems your father insists on going no matter what. Then, won’t you let me protect your father? I promise to return him safely.”
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“But. . .”
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“It’s okay. I may not look like it, but I’ve conquered many dungeons under my master.”
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Luke winked lightly at Alma and followed Sir Wilfred.
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◆
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The mansion’s backyard was a training ground, where Rampart’s guards were practicing.
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As Sir Wilfred said, they seemed ready for dungeon conquest immediately.
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“Tyrone, is Tyrone here?”
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“Yes, over here.”
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At Sir Wilfred’s call, a guard rushed over.
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He was a sturdy man, taller than Luke, with a scar on his cheek.
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“This is Tyrone, the captain of the guards and a magic knight. Tyrone, this is Luke, my daughter’s friend. Can you spar with him?”
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“A spar. . .?”
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Tyrone looked down at Luke with a puzzled face.
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Luke was not a small man but looked too lean for combat.
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His expression seemed to question why he had to fight such a man.
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“It’s his own request. Please indulge him a bit.”
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“Haa. . .”
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Tyrone nodded, still unconvinced.
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“Then, let’s begin the spar. We’ll use practice weapons, magic is allowed, and it ends when the opponent surrenders or I say stop. Is that alright?”
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“Fine by me.”
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Luke said and picked up a wooden sword nearby.
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Tyrone, on the other hand, wielded a large wooden axe.
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Despite being blunt, it looked intimidating.
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“I must warn you, even in a spar, there’s no guarantee of no injury. I’d hate to hurt my lady’s friend, so I advise you to surrender if you feel in danger.”
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“Thank you for the warning.”
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Luke smiled and took his stance with the sword.
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“Luke, be careful.”
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“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”
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Luke replied with a smile to the concerned Alma.
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Seeing this, Tyrone sighed in resignation.
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It seemed this young master knew nothing about battle.
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It would be a challenge to end this without injury. . . But alright, it was an order from Sir Wilfred, his master. He had no choice but to comply.
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Tyrone shrugged his shoulders and raised his axe.
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“Begin!”
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With Sir Wilfred’s signal, the mock battle between Luke and Tyrone began.
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“Hmm?”
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Tyrone quickly sensed something amiss.
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This man, Luke, seemed to hold his sword carelessly, yet he was utterly without opening.
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Tyrone had survived as a magic knight for 15 years.
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He believed it was not just about being strong or skilled in magic.
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Over these 15 years, he learned that survival required the ability to sense and avoid danger, not just strength.
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Tyrone’s sense of crisis was at its peak, unable to find an opening whether he slashed, thrust, or chopped.
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“Hmmmm.”
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Tyrone was struggling to find a way to attack.
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“Captain Tyrone! What’s wrong?”
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“Hurry up and beat that pretty boy!”
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Despite the jeers from the onlooking subordinates, Tyrone remained unable to move.
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Nevertheless, he couldn’t just stand idle forever.
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“Flame Bullet!!”
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A flame bullet was launched from Tyrone’s left hand.
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“No way! A unique magic right off the bat!”
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“Hey, isn’t that going too far. . .!”
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The flame bullet struck near Luke’s feet, raising a cloud of dust.
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(I can’t kill him, but he should be prepared for at least a fracture. . .)
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While the dust swirled, Tyrone quickly chanted a spell.
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Predicting Luke’s evasion, or rather, the earlier flame bullet was just a ruse to buy time for this chant.
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“Beast King’s Roar!”
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Tyrone completed his chant.
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It was a high-level paralysis spell capable of immobilizing several ogres at once.
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A few guards who came too close were caught up in it, but it couldn’t be helped.
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To end the match without injuring the guest and to demonstrate his prowess, such a spell was necessary.
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“I did hold back, so it shouldn’t be too serious but. . . huh?!”
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As Tyrone attempted to clear the dust with a wind spell, he was shocked at what he saw.
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It was Luke’s wooden sword, thrust at his throat.
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“Im. . . impossible. . . how. . .?”
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Tyrone was dumbfounded.
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Had all my tactics been seen through?
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“I understood from the trajectory of your shot that it was a diversion. I anticipated that the next spell would be a paralyzing one. If I could predict your next move, it gave me a chance to strike first.”
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“Impossible! That can’t be. . .!”
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Tyrone couldn’t comprehend it.
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The earlier Flame Bullet wasn’t just a feint. Though aimed to miss, its impact could have sent someone flying several meters.
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And as for the chant, it should have been drowned out by the explosion’s noise, making it impossible to hear.
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Moreover, the Beast King’s Roar is not a type of magic that can be prevented simply by covering one’s ears.
The fact that he could move after it was activated means that he had deployed a defensive magic in that short period.
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To completely block that impact and then anticipate and counter the next magic spell, is there really someone capable of doing such a thing. . .
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Tyrone hadn’t even realized that he had dropped the battle axe he was holding.
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In fact, Luke had known from the very beginning, from Tyrone’s initial positioning, that he would attack with magic.
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Clearly keeping a distance and moving to a position where no one was behind him, it was deducible that it was a magic spell affecting a wide area.
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With Luke’s left eye, capable of seeing the flow of magical essence, he could discern any incantation being recited, even amidst deafening noise.
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All of this was the result of Luke’s observation and analysis, but to Tyrone, it seemed as if Luke had foreseen his every move through some kind of precognition.
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Tyrone let out a sigh.
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“I’m beaten. A complete defeat.”
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It wasn’t an admission of his own weakness, but a declaration of admiring defeat, derived from 15 years of experience.
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