I Am A Wizard Who Can Travel Between Earth And The Other World-Chapter 42 - 44 Magic Duel
Thwick! Thwick!
Arrows from crossbows whizzed through the air toward Desmond, who frowned in irritation at the persistent barrage.
"I was hoping they'd pull out guns by now," he muttered, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
The mirrored world still held many mysteries for him, and he had prepared himself for the possibility of firearms appearing.
After all, the mercenaries accompanying the mage Lorien Vareth had carried guns, even if they hadn't used them.
He was confident that even if bullets rained down, his shield and durability-enhancing magic would keep him safe.
For now, Desmond summoned a shield.
A powerful mana field shimmered into existence around him, imbued with a faint physical force. He didn't bother to make it overly solid—there was no need for such excess.
A few more crossbow bolts flew at him, but as they struck the shield, their speed slowed, and their trajectories warped.
The arrows veered off course, clattering harmlessly to the ground, their power spent.
There didn't seem to be many crossbowmen, Desmond noted.
He briefly deliberated whether to keep his distortion spell active or to dispel it and fight more openly.
The distortion consumed a significant amount of mental focus, essentially occupying an entire segment of his consciousness.
If he deactivated it, he could concentrate on using two spells simultaneously.
Even if he could only cast one spell at a time, his mastery of variations and adaptations made it seem like he was wielding several at once.
For now, however, it wasn't necessary to drop the distortion.
Above, the magical devices Desmond had installed on the rooftop continued their mechanical assault.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
At regular intervals, bursts of mana pellets shot from the devices, causing compressed air to erupt on the ground below with loud, disruptive booms.
The devices would continue their relentless task until Desmond deactivated them.
That sound is annoying, he thought with a grimace.
He had simplified the devices' design due to time constraints, and while he knew they would generate noise, he hadn't expected it to be this grating.
Perhaps the quiet of the night made it worse.
Just as Desmond prepared to escalate the fight, the enemy mage began to channel their mana. The rotation of the three cylindrical cores in the mage's chest sped up, and the threads of mana they produced thickened and flowed faster.
Through his informational domain, Desmond quickly analyzed the magic circle the mage was constructing.
It was an electric spell—raw and aggressive.
Despite its crude design, the mage's affinity for lightning magic was evident. This was the same mage who had deflected Desmond's earlier lightning strike, and now they were preparing a similar attack.
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Desmond smirked as he finished dissecting the magic circle.
Its simplicity made the process quick, and his experience analyzing portals, recipes, and magical artifacts had honed his skills to a razor's edge.
The spell was a directional lightning strike, designed to release a focused burst of electricity.
Its straightforward nature made it both powerful and easy to execute—perfect for brute force. But countering it was child's play.
All Desmond needed to do was subtly manipulate the conductivity of the air, creating a path for the lightning to follow.
As his mana threads weaved a new magic circle, Desmond's mind raced.
He worked faster than his opponent, his calculations sharper, his execution more precise.
The air around the enemy mage, Rigen Hael, began to shift subtly as its conductivity was altered.
Rigen Hael completed his spell and released it with a surge of power.
KRAK-BOOM!
A bolt of lightning erupted forward. Yet, as it shot toward its intended target, the bolt veered sharply, arcing back toward Rigen Hael's own position. The electricity struck behind him with a deafening crack.
BZZZZT!
"AARGH!" Rigen Hael's scream tore through the air as three of his comrades were caught in the redirected strike. The lightning coursed through their bodies, hurling them backward in a violent explosion of sparks.
Rigen Hael's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What… What is this?!"
There had to be an explanation, and his mind latched onto one conclusion. "A mage…?"
His voice trembled as he spoke the word.
The enemy wasn't just a rogue spellcaster; they were someone who could anticipate his magic, manipulate conductivity, and turn his own spells against him.
Desperation crept into Rigen Hael's movements as he forced himself to calm down and began reconstructing a new magic circle.
This time, his mana threads were sharper and more vibrant, the result of his heightened focus. But to Desmond, who was observing in real time, the process seemed painfully slow.
Why is he so slow?
Desmond sighed internally. He could see the problem. Rigen Hael's mana threads were brittle, snapping under strain and requiring constant patchwork to complete the circle. But even accounting for that, the mage's speed was lackluster.
Does he seriously memorize spell formulas in chunks and calculate only the necessary parts on the spot? Desmond wondered. If true, it explained much of Rigen Hael's inefficiency—but it also begged the question of how he had become a three-circle mage at all.
Deciding there was nothing more to gain from observation, Desmond began constructing a counterspell. Knowing the coordinates of Rigen Hael's intended strike made tampering with it trivial.
Rigen Hael, meanwhile, showed no inclination to probe Desmond's position for information. There were no attempts at mana interference or reconnaissance. Even Rigen Hael had used magical tools and artifacts to gain an edge. Rigen Hael had none—no staff, no artifacts, no tools of any kind. He was, in Desmond's words, utterly bare.
Rigen Hael completed his spell.
KRAK!
A bolt of lightning descended, aimed squarely at Desmond's head. But the lightning veered, curving sharply as it was redirected.
It struck Rigen Hael's shield instead.
CRASH!
The shield shattered, and the remnants of the lightning struck Rigen Hael's allies once more.
BZZZT!
"AAARGH!" The screams of his comrades filled the air as they were flung backward. Bantaesu sighed in disappointment.
At least Rigen Hael had his artifacts to make things interesting.
Rigen Hael was outmatched, his repertoire limited to a single element and his casting speed painfully slow. Even as he worked, Desmond had already prepared a follow-up. Five magic circles materialized, surrounding the area. A whirlwind began to form, carrying droplets of water that spread across the battlefield.
The gusts grew stronger, soaking everyone in the area.
Then came the first lightning strike.
KRAK-BOOM!
Electricity danced across the watery vortex, enveloping the Merentil forces in a storm of relentless energy. Some tried to endure it, clenching their teeth and bracing themselves, but the strikes kept coming.
KRAK-BOOM!
The second strike shattered their resolve, leaving only Rigo Hul standing.
The third bolt sealed his fate.
KRAK-BOOM!
Rigen Hael collapsed to his knees, his body trembling as residual sparks danced along his form. Desmond approached him, his movements calm and deliberate.
With a flick of his hand, a mana spike formed at his fingertips, swirling with concentrated energy.
He drove it into Rigen Hael's core.
The mage's power flickered, then vanished entirely.
THUD.
As Rigen Hael fell unconscious, Desmond pulled out his phone and dialed. "It's done," he said. "Send the team. You know the location."
He turned his attention to the battlefield, surveying the aftermath.
One figure, remarkably, was still conscious.
With a faint smile, Desmond walked toward them.
Just as he passed, the survivor's eyes snapped open.
