The Magic of “Analysis” Sees Through Everything – Chapter 22

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞

“Understood. First, let’s see your skills. We’ll judge after that.”

Sir Wilfred nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Luke! And Otou-sama as well!”

Alma raised her voice in protest.

“It’s okay, Alma.”

Luke whispered in Alma’s ear.

“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.”

“But. . .”

“It’s okay. I may not look like it, but I’ve conquered many dungeons under my master.”

Luke winked lightly at Alma and followed Sir Wilfred.

The mansion’s backyard was a training ground, where Rampart’s guards were practicing.

As Sir Wilfred said, they seemed ready for dungeon conquest immediately.

“Tyrone, is Tyrone here?”

“Yes, over here.”

At Sir Wilfred’s call, a guard rushed over.

He was a sturdy man, taller than Luke, with a scar on his cheek.

“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?”

“A spar. . .?”

Tyrone looked down at Luke with a puzzled face.

Luke was not a small man but looked too lean for combat.

His expression seemed to question why he had to fight such a man.

“It’s his own request. Please indulge him a bit.”

“Haa. . .”

Tyrone nodded, still unconvinced.

“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?”

“Fine by me.”

Luke said and picked up a wooden sword nearby.

Tyrone, on the other hand, wielded a large wooden axe.

Despite being blunt, it looked intimidating.

“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.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

Luke smiled and took his stance with the sword.

“Luke, be careful.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Luke replied with a smile to the concerned Alma.

Seeing this, Tyrone sighed in resignation.

It seemed this young master knew nothing about battle.

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.

Tyrone shrugged his shoulders and raised his axe.




With Sir Wilfred’s signal, the mock battle between Luke and Tyrone began.


Tyrone quickly sensed something amiss.

This man, Luke, seemed to hold his sword carelessly, yet he was utterly without opening.

Tyrone had survived as a magic knight for 15 years.

He believed it was not just about being strong or skilled in magic.

Over these 15 years, he learned that survival required the ability to sense and avoid danger, not just strength.

Tyrone’s sense of crisis was at its peak, unable to find an opening whether he slashed, thrust, or chopped.


Tyrone was struggling to find a way to attack.

“Captain Tyrone! What’s wrong?”

“Hurry up and beat that pretty boy!”

Despite the jeers from the onlooking subordinates, Tyrone remained unable to move.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t just stand idle forever.

“Flame Bullet!!”

A flame bullet was launched from Tyrone’s left hand.

“No way! A unique magic right off the bat!”

“Hey, isn’t that going too far. . .!”

The flame bullet struck near Luke’s feet, raising a cloud of dust.

(I can’t kill him, but he should be prepared for at least a fracture. . .)

While the dust swirled, Tyrone quickly chanted a spell.

Predicting Luke’s evasion, or rather, the earlier flame bullet was just a ruse to buy time for this chant.

“Beast King’s Roar!”

Tyrone completed his chant.

It was a high-level paralysis spell capable of immobilizing several ogres at once.

A few guards who came too close were caught up in it, but it couldn’t be helped.

To end the match without injuring the guest and to demonstrate his prowess, such a spell was necessary.

“I did hold back, so it shouldn’t be too serious but. . . huh?!”

As Tyrone attempted to clear the dust with a wind spell, he was shocked at what he saw.

It was Luke’s wooden sword, thrust at his throat.

“Im. . . impossible. . . how. . .?”

Tyrone was dumbfounded.

Had all my tactics been seen through?

“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.”

“Impossible! That can’t be. . .!”

Tyrone couldn’t comprehend it.

The earlier Flame Bullet wasn’t just a feint. Though aimed to miss, its impact could have sent someone flying several meters.

And as for the chant, it should have been drowned out by the explosion’s noise, making it impossible to hear.


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.

To completely block that impact and then anticipate and counter the next magic spell, is there really someone capable of doing such a thing. . .

Tyrone hadn’t even realized that he had dropped the battle axe he was holding.

In fact, Luke had known from the very beginning, from Tyrone’s initial positioning, that he would attack with magic.

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.

With Luke’s left eye, capable of seeing the flow of magical essence, he could discern any incantation being recited, even amidst deafening noise.

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.

Tyrone let out a sigh.

“I’m beaten. A complete defeat.”

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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