Encounter (Part Two)

Merlin cocked his head, listening intently to the movement inside the house. Because he persisted in practicing the movements on the mysterious relief, his overall sharpness had increased substantially; he could hear even the slightest sound inside the room.

"Why has it gone quiet?"

Frowning, Merlin had just heard the sound of faint footsteps seemingly reach the doorway, but suddenly all motion had ceased.

Bang.

With a loud crash, the wooden door beside Merlin was suddenly smashed open by a punch, and splinters flew in all directions. Immediately afterward, a hand thrust swiftly out of the opening in the door, a flash of pale light accompanying it.

Whoosh.

It was a sharp dagger, thrusting straight at Merlin.

I've been spotted!

Merlin realized instantly that his whereabouts were exposed.

The dagger moved with great speed, leaving Merlin no time to parry. He had no choice but to drop and roll, dodging the strike in a very bedraggled manner.

"Damn it."

Anger flared in Merlin's chest, and he could not help cursing under his breath. He had not even seen clearly what his assailant looked like before he was nearly killed. He had been far too careless.

After uttering the oath, Merlin did not sit and wait for death. Instead, he abruptly bowed his body like a ferocious cheetah, relying on a burst of formidable explosive power to hurl his entire body fiercely toward the wooden door.

Crack.

This time the wooden door was thoroughly shattered. Merlin felt as though he had crashed into a soft body, driving his target straight back into the wooden hut.

The hut was very dark, the windows all nailed shut—doubtless by order of the City Defense Corps. The small house was almost entirely sealed off, and because it had lacked ventilation for a long time, the air carried a very unpleasant, musty odor.

Having knocked his opponent flying, Merlin instantly sprang up from the floor, fixing a wary gaze on the other person as he demanded in a deep voice, "Just who are you?"

The mysterious figure before him wore a long black robe. The oversized garment concealed their build, making it impossible to tell their specific physique, and a huge black cowl covered their head, obscuring their face just as thoroughly.

Faced with Merlin's questioning, the black-robed mystery figure remained silent. Instead, they raised the dagger in their hand once more, the broad black robe actually beginning to ripple gradually, as though gentle breezes were swirling around the stranger.

"Hm? Wind element? An elemental swordsman?"

Merlin was already extremely sensitive to elements. The fluctuation of wind elements around the adversary was intense, completely enveloping them. The person was an elemental swordsman, and judging from the strength of those wind fluctuations, they should only be a first-level elemental swordsman.

Swish.

The black-robed figure flashed forward with speed pushed to the absolute limit. Within the dim wooden hut, even with Merlin's acute senses, he could not capture the mysterious person's form. The opponent's speed was simply too fast.

Merlin could only stand motionless, meeting changes with constancy. The moment he sensed any motion near him, he threw a punch without a second thought. Yet every blow seemed to strike empty air, leaving Merlin with a frustrating, deeply uncomfortable feeling of having immense strength with nowhere to apply it.

Slash.

Suddenly, Merlin felt a chill on his neck accompanied by an extreme sensation of danger. He hastily tilted his head slightly to the side, and the sharp dagger grazed right across his neck.

Fortunately, Merlin had dodged in time, and his body had also grown tough from practicing the mysterious relief, so the strike merely sliced through the surface skin.

Even so, it broke him out in a cold sweat. A fraction of a second earlier, his throat would have been slit.

"Damn it, the speed is too high."

Merlin muttered a curse under his breath. The opponent was a gale swordsman who excelled in speed, and their elusive form was far too fast. Merlin struggled just to catch sight of them, let alone land a hit.

The room was far too dim. Fighting a gale swordsman in such an environment would inevitably put him at a disadvantage.

At that thought, Merlin whipped around and sprinted frantically toward the outside.

Whoosh, whoosh.

Yet the mysterious person's speed seemed even greater, cutting off Merlin's escape and thrusting the dagger toward his chest once more.

"Caught you! Go to hell!"

A trace of a smile appeared at the corners of Merlin's mouth. Taking advantage of the light from the doorway, he clearly perceived the dark shadow before him. This was his moment to strike.

Fireball!

A ball of fire appeared out of thin air, then surged forward with a roar, driving straight toward the mysterious figure. The howling fireball radiated a terrifying temperature, making it exceptionally conspicuous in the dim room.

The fireball moved swiftly, but the adversary also seemed momentarily startled by its sudden appearance, managing only to turn sideways as the projectile crashed straight into their black cloak.

The temperature of the fireball was extremely high. Meeting virtually no resistance, it burned away half of the black cowl in an instant, revealing a head of beautiful golden-blonde hair.

The room was dark, and though Merlin could not see the expression on his opponent's face, he could guess it was likely one of extreme shock.

Taking advantage of the enemy's momentary daze, Merlin lunged straight forward. With a hand broad as a palm-leaf fan, he grabbed the stranger's robe and slammed them fiercely to the floor.

Bang.

Just how formidable was Merlin's strength? That smash left the adversary dizzy and disoriented. Yet the mysterious person was truly an elemental swordsman, possessing exceptional physical conditioning, and still had enough reserved strength to raise a hand and stab toward Merlin's neck.

"Humph!"

Merlin let out a cold grunt, his left hand clamping down on the opponent's arm while his right hand gripped the mysterious person's hair. Without a moment's hesitation, he smashed them viciously against the wall.

Bang, bang, bang.

After three consecutive impacts, seeing that the mysterious figure had ceased struggling and slumped limply to the ground, Merlin finally stopped.

He panted heavily. This was his first time facing such a dangerous opponent in a life-or-death struggle. Although, in terms of sheer might, Merlin was a powerful mage capable of easily defeating any first- or second-level elemental swordsman, he had still come within a hair's breadth of dying at this person's hands just now.

If one could not apply spells to practical combat, possessing even the most powerful magic would be of no use.

Old Aita back then had also mastered only two zero-level spells and, much like Merlin, belonged to the rank of novice spellcasters. Among the tiers of mages, the novice stage could be considered unranked—it did not even truly count as being a spellcaster. Only by mastering three zero-level spells and replacing all three with first-level spells could one become a first-level spellcaster.

Even though old Aita was merely a novice spellcaster, when he dealt with the guardian swordsmen who had come from Gran City, he had done so with ease. Even secondary elemental swordsmen like Borg were nowhere near a match for old Aita, which demonstrated that the might of spellcasters far surpassed what elemental swordsmen could compare to.

Yet today, Merlin had nearly been killed by a first-level elemental swordsman, proving that his combat experience was still severely deficient. At the very beginning, he had not even had the opportunity to cast a spell—a fatal flaw for a mage.

Merlin touched his neck with his hand, his fingers coming away stained with sticky blood. However, only the surface skin had been sliced open, and the bleeding had already stopped, posing no real issue.

This was a tremendous lesson!

If I had simply released a fireball right at the start to blast open the door, no matter how fast their speed, they wouldn't have been able to hurt me.

Merlin was reviewing the shortcomings of his recent battle. He was still unaccustomed to his identity as a mage and his habits in combat; a spellcaster should eliminate opponents from afar using magic rather than engaging in close-quarters brawls with an elemental swordsman.

The black-clad person still lay on the ground, having taken several vicious head-smashes from Merlin's grip. Awakening would take a little longer, so Merlin stood up, walked over to the side of the fallen figure, and reached out to rip away the remaining half of the black cowl.

Having fought with the person for so long, Merlin had yet to see their true appearance.

The hood was pulled back, exposing a head of golden hair that had been partially scorched and emitted a charred odor.

"What a waste of such beautiful hair."

Merlin shook his head slightly, complimenting the lovely locks, regretting only that a portion of them had been burned away directly by the small fireball he had cast earlier, turning the originally golden hair somewhat blackened and peculiarly misshapen.

The individual was lying on their side, hair veiling their features. Merlin gently brushed the locks aside from the face to reveal the person's appearance.

"Hm?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze turning razor-sharp in an instant.

"Jia?"

The person lying on the ground in black was actually Jia, the history instructor.

Merlin still remembered how even fatty Gute, despite mobilizing the power of his lineage, had failed to find Jia's exact background. He had never expected to encounter her here.

Moreover, Jia's performance just now was far beyond that of an ordinary teacher.

Just as Merlin was speculating about the connection between Jia and old Aita, a soft grunt issued from Jia's nose as she neared consciousness.

Merlin stood up, took a step back, and fixed his gaze firmly on Jia.

After a moment, Merlin heard Jia's breathing grow somewhat hurried, prompting him to say with a faint smile, "No need to pretend. Since you're awake, why not open your eyes?"

Hearing Merlin's words, the Jia on the ground indeed opened her eyes. Looking at Merlin, she said with a very calm expression, "Wilson Merlin? I didn't expect Mr. Aita to actually take you on as a true disciple."

Jia was just struggling to push herself up when Merlin flicked his hand upward. A ball of fire instantly materialized out of thin air and crashed directly into the wooden floorboards right beside Jia.

Bang.

The fireball struck the flooring and detonated violently, blowing a gaping hole straight through the wood, from which charred black smoke continued to rise.

"Don't try any tricks, or the next fireball will detonate on your body."

Merlin used direct action to warn Jia. After a month of arduous practice with his mental meditation technique, his mental power had increased somewhat. More importantly, his control over the fireball spell had also grown much more refined, ensuring there would be no recurrence of losing control over the magic.

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