Another Tracking Magic

On the eighth day of their adventure.

Serie ignored Rhode.

The reason was simple: she had been dealt a severe blow.

At that moment, Rhode spotted a Grayhorn Rabbit in the forest ahead. It was hiding behind a tree, with only its gray tail sticking out. Unless he used large-scale offensive magic, it would be difficult to catch it.

But Rhode had a way.

After roughly estimating the rabbit's position, he cast a spell and fired a small Light Arrow. It curved through the air and struck the Grayhorn Rabbit directly.

That was right—Rhode had already learned Serie's tracking magic.

However, unlike her difficult method of attaching mana to an attack, Rhode had used a shortcut. He marked the target's position in advance, then had the magic alter its own trajectory, achieving a different kind of tracking effect.

This method required no extensive practice, saving him quite a bit of trouble.

The price was that Miss Serie was unhappy.

Serie stood with her arms folded against a tree, her long golden hair hanging loosely to her waist. After watching Rhode's entire demonstration, her delicate face had tightened into a stern expression.

She turned her head away and deliberately refused to look at him. "That was just a cheap trick. This isn't tracking magic at all."

Rhode held the Grayhorn Rabbit by its ears, dealt with it briefly, and put it into his backpack. He smiled helplessly. "But it really is practical."

Just thinking about how to apply magic to an attack made Rhode's head ache. This was far more convenient.

Who knew what the goddess had been thinking, sending a science student like him into this fantasy world and giving him such a talent for Creation Magic? It made him constantly want to use scientific theory to create magic.

"Real tracking magic requires you to attach mana to the attack and determine the direction through the enemy's aura. Most importantly, even if the enemy dodges, it can attack a second time. As long as the mana in the spell isn't exhausted, it can keep attacking them." Serie finally turned back, her golden eyes full of indignation. "Your kind of—your kind of—"

This was the longest speech Serie had given since they began their adventure days ago. It was clear that she was genuinely flustered.

"So it's Guided Magic?" Rhode ventured.

"What kind of nonsense is that?!" Serie's expression became utterly vivid, even carrying a hint of cuteness.

"Anyway, this isn't real tracking magic!"

Serie had wanted this man to bring her more surprises, but only on the condition that those surprises did not undermine her!

Why had she spent years learning tracking magic while this man had grasped it so quickly? Even if he had taken a shortcut, he had still achieved the same effect.

So Miss Serie desperately tried to salvage her dignity. She absolutely would not admit that this was tracking magic!

Looking at the Little Ancestor's tightly drawn face, Rhode suddenly found Serie even cuter than usual.

If he were not afraid she would beat him to death, he would have liked to pat her head and squeeze her round cheeks.

"Alright, alright, this really isn't proper tracking magic." It was only a name, after all, and Rhode had no intention of dwelling on the matter with Serie. "If our great Miss Serie doesn't mind, could you teach me again? This time, I'll definitely study the genuine tracking magic seriously!"

Rhode had actually realized it too. This tracking magic was probably one of the Elf race's most closely guarded secrets.

Because in a sense, this thing was practically cheating.

Imagine fighting a mage. You dodge a wave of attacks and are just about to rush in, only to find their magic curving around and charging at you again.

At that moment, you would probably feel like cursing.

It would be manageable if you were prepared, but if you were not, the least you could expect was serious injury.

He just did not know why this magic had not been passed down to later generations.

Was it too difficult to learn, making it impossible for most people to master? Or had later magic simply become so powerful that tracking magic had fallen behind the times?

Rhode felt the latter was unlikely. Something must have happened.

Naturally, Serie had no idea what Rhode was thinking. However, when she heard him admit that his was not tracking magic and ask her to teach him again, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly despite herself.

"Since you're being so sincere—"

She raised a hand, a wisp of mana gathering at her fingertips. "Watch carefully. This is the orthodox kind."

Before she finished speaking, a violent explosion suddenly sounded in the distance.

They both turned at once and saw the distant sky filled with black-purple clouds.

"That is..." Serie's expression instantly turned grave. "The aura of Monsters."

Rhode immediately cast a Great Detection Technique. A Magic Circle formed in his hand, and the direction of the explosion happened to lie at the very edge of the spell's range.

Looking at the densely packed dots on the Magic Circle, his face darkened at once. "There are a lot of them."

It was only an initial version of the Great Detection Technique, after all. It could not distinguish allies from enemies or detect the strength of its targets; it could only give a rough estimate of enemy numbers.

"What do we do? Run, or go take a look?"

If he had been alone, Rhode would have fled far away the moment the explosion sounded. But with Serie beside him, he chose to respect her opinion.

Serie glanced at Rhode, excitement showing on her face. "Let's go. At least it won't be boring."

She had actually cast a Detection Spell as well. Since she had not sensed any particularly powerful Monsters, she planned to go take a look.

"Fine." Rhode nodded, and the two of them hurried toward the source of the sound.

After passing through the dense forest, a village appeared before them, the air thick with smoke and the stench of blood.

"Is this Dwarf territory? It looks like it has been attacked by Monsters."

Serie slowly spoke as she saw the Dwarves fighting the Monsters.

Rhode looked up and saw that a huge hole had been blasted through the village wall. Dozens of Monsters resembling Werewolves were fighting the Dwarves.

"High-ranking Wolf Demons." Serie narrowed her eyes. "They're a superior species to the ordinary Demon Wolves we killed before. They fight in packs, and their strength increases drastically on nights with a full moon, though they lose even more of their reason at the same time."

Rhode looked closely. These Wolf Demons were essentially like the Werewolves of later generations, only far bloodier in appearance.

There were simply too many of them. Though the Dwarves fought bravely, they were already beginning to fail.

After all, this village was not large; it was the sort whose end could be seen at a glance. There were probably only twenty or thirty Dwarves in the village capable of fighting, nowhere near enough to handle so many Werewolves.