There was no absolute strength or weakness in spells. It depended on how they were used and when.
Baangte had heard those words more than once, along with many similar sayings. There were even extreme examples of non-combat spells producing astonishing results. For instance, a powerful nation that had once halted the advance of a Three-Ring Wizard had ultimately fallen apart within days because of the simplest Zero-Ring Spell, the Phantasmal Sound Spell.
Baangte had learned the Phantasmal Sound Spell after hearing that story. He had truly followed his mentor's teachings and tried things one by one, like the other apprentices around him, attempting to step into the broader world of spells.
But in the end, all those attempts had merely confirmed his original answer time and again.
He still liked the feeling of power. That was what he excelled at, what suited him best. It was like those days buried deep in his memories, the days he could never forget—when he had thirsted for strength, when he had been the strongest knight in the Cavern Domain for a century. Though that Cavern Domain had not been large, and he admitted that ruling a Cavern Domain was like an insect falling into the bottom of a cup.
Yet he still could not forget that feeling. It was not the luxury of indulgence; he simply liked fighting that way. He did not want to use those interesting spells, such as the Phantasmal Sound Spell. "Interesting spells" was his own classification. Though some spells were not particularly interesting, any spell that could not simply and directly satisfy his heart was tossed into that category.
The wizard's path was infinite. That was also something his mentor had said.
One late night, after he figured all this out, even his meditation seemed to become more efficient.
His once-stagnant path began to flow smoothly. He advanced at an unstoppable pace, becoming a Level-Five Wizard Apprentice until his spiritual power reached its limit.
Just like his fists and his longsword.
His lack of enthusiasm for interesting spells did not mean he was rigid. The mysteries of spells could likewise be perceived from another perspective.
Black claws formed from shadows, seemingly intangible yet tremendously lethal, clung to one another. There were clearly only seven or eight of them, yet they surged forward in a crowd like a black, man-eating beast, rolling in like waves. Every claw that landed on an ordinary person would bring horrific consequences. Broken bones and torn tendons would be a wishful fantasy; more likely, flesh and blood would be gouged away in an instant and scattered across the ground.
Baangte stood like a reef. His calm expression gave his already upright figure an imposing air, as though his feet stood upon the earth and his head held up the heavens.
It was an air of utter disregard, one that treated neither the terrifying spell before him nor the other Wizard Apprentices—including Wizard Apprentices at the Level-Five limit—as worthy of notice. Yet on Baangte, this disregard did not feel like arrogant conceit. He was simply too calm. Unlike the frivolity of arrogance, his serene disdain instead carried the heavy weight of a mountain.
Baangte knew many people spoke of his restraint. Only after thinking carefully did he realize that he had never truly seen those people at all.
His sight was narrow, narrow enough to see only his own path and the obstacles blocking his wizard's path. As for people and matters that did not even qualify as obstacles, he forgot them in the blink of an eye. They were not worth drawing his sword over. Rumors said many people had grudges against him, but he could not recall any of them because he had never considered things that way. To him, everything beyond the path was trivial.
Only the path to transcendence could not tolerate the slightest carelessness.
And now, a fool whose name he would normally soon forget had reached out onto his path to transcendence.
Baangte looked at the grinning man wrapped in a long snake.
"I've never liked the term Limit Wizard Apprentice. Reaching the limit of spiritual power and having a few modified spells you're good at isn't enough," Baangte said, raising both hands as different spell fluctuations flashed across his body in an instant. "The true limit is this... which is why so many people aren't worthy of calling themselves that."
One-Ring Spell: Stone Fist Spell!
His fists became as hard as rock. It was not merely that they had turned to stone; his strength also greatly increased. Moreover, the boost did not conflict with the Zero-Ring Spells Strength Spell and Strength of the Savage Bull. That was precisely what Baangte wanted. Through modifications to his innate Strength Spell, he had already almost completely resolved the weakening effect caused by receiving its enhancement alongside Strength of the Savage Bull.
The tide of black shadow claws was shattered by Baangte's punch. An invisible ripple seemed to coil around his fist.
Green mist swirled and spread outward, clearly revealing the figures of the two men within.
The man who had been grinning all along lost his smile the moment he recognized the One-Ring Spell.
Baangte simply ignored several black claws that tried to sneak attack him.
The Zero-Ring Spell Air Armor displayed strength far exceeding its original power upon his body.
"I can fuse the Lesser Ak Rejection Spell with Air Armor, even merge them with the swordsmanship I specialize in. Even if you know Air Armor as well, you still can't block my Stone Fist or my blade..."
With a turn of his wrist, Baangte drew a gleaming longsword from his storage pouch and stepped forward.
This was also the first time he had moved since standing before this man.
"How can you cast a One-Ring Spell so easily? Do you have a legendary Oddity?"
After losing his smile, the man did not panic too much. Instead, his face filled with confusion.
"Do you think this snake will leave me unable to act?" Baangte flicked his sword in a flourish, and invisible power rippled across the blade.
A trace of tension finally flashed across the man's face. He slowly stepped backward as more than a dozen black claws made of shadow gathered beside him, forming a massive claw nearly as tall as a person. At the same time, spells such as Air Armor began appearing on his body. With a flip of his hand, he also took a black scroll from his storage pouch and gripped it tightly.
"As advice before your death, witnessed by my sword," Baangte said, staring directly at the retreating man without pressing forward step by step. "I don't have an Oddity, and that snake has nothing to do with the Insectfolk. Your efforts were destined to be wasted. But you were right about one thing. That snake is a clue I found to an Oddity, and besides..."
"I don't need to be that close to cut you down."
Baangte seemed to have found the opportunity he had awaited for so long. Gripping his sword in both hands, he took a step forward. As his waist twisted, the longsword followed the motion and cleaved downward.
The longsword struck in the most standard stance, with perfect force and timing. Every movement was etched into his bones. When the blade came down, its tip was still a palm's breadth from the retreating man. Yet with the slash, a force of rejection that did not belong to him erupted from the man's body. The long snake was pushed away, instantly no longer tightly wound around him. Its form changed from close-fitting snake armor into a loose, billowing robe.
But the man no longer had the strength to care. A streak of blood emerged at his temple. Neither the great black claw nor his various spells had stopped that strike. He spat out a mouthful of bloody foam, and part of his body began to slowly slide away. From his temple to the opposite side of his waist, the blade that had seemed to miss had cleanly cleaved him diagonally from the crown of his head, leaving only a neat mark that spoke of the slash's sharpness.