Chapter 498: Rematch

“This is a bit unexpected.”

Merlin spoke under the gloomy sky filled with clouds. Thick snowflakes with a blue magical hue accumulated on his shoulders.

“I didn’t expect you would be the one to challenge me first.”

“I’m not challenging you to a fight, Elder, I’m requesting a spar.”

Oliver corrected Merlin as they stood together on the Frozen Land at the world’s end. The term ‘fight’ seemed… somewhat impolite, didn’t it?

“Honestly, it’s the same thing. How often do you think a disciple who hasn’t seen their master in a long time asks for a spar?”

Oliver thought seriously about it. Could there really be no disciple who would ask for a spar after meeting their master after a long time? Hmm…

“Well… you are just a temporary master, right? So, isn’t it fine?”

“Haha, crazy kid.”

Merlin laughed. The increasing thickness of the magical barrier around him made it impossible to read his emotions, so whether he was serious or joking was unclear, but at least he didn’t seem displeased.

“Still, it’s not bad. It brings back some memories.”

Merlin said this as he looked around, and Oliver followed his gaze.

They were in the open, treeless Frozen Land. Interestingly, they had come to this place to spar when they first visited it as well.

“The difference is that back then, I made the request, but this time you did. Time indeed favors the young. You grow quickly, aiming to outpace the elders.”

“Elder, that’s not my intention at all.”

“I know. I’m serious too. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing. The young should strive to surpass the old. Isn’t that what progress is?”

Oliver tilted his head in thought. On second thought, it wasn’t wrong.

Respecting elders was correct, but at the same time, there was a need to surpass them. As Merlin said, that was progress. Otherwise, it would be regression.

The new always had to surpass the old.

“But aside from that, I’m curious about your reason. What brought the sudden desire to spar? Are you looking to evaluate my worth?”

Oliver recalled the conversations he had with Merlin in the past.

When Merlin saved Oliver, Rosburn, and the other children from Martell, he immediately said that a person’s worth is measured by power and pushed them to fight.

“No. How could I possibly evaluate your worth, Elder? And frankly, I still don’t agree that power equals worth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I just realized how weak I am, and I wanted to know exactly how weak.”

“Depending on how you interpret that, your words could sound a bit arrogant.”

“Now that I’ve said it, I guess it does sound a bit that way. I apologize. I’m not very good with words.”

After saying it, Oliver regretted it. Saying he wanted to know how weak he was. But it was the truth.

“Why are you suddenly curious about that? You’re not the type to be interested in power for the sake of power, right?”

Oliver nodded. Indeed, as Merlin said, Oliver wasn’t particularly interested in power itself.

He had studied and learned Black Magic, Magic, Blood Magic, Puppet Crafting, Druid’s Spells, Close-Combat Techniques, Spatial Magic Imbued Paper, among others — all of which could lead to great power, but power wasn’t the goal.

The goal was to learn, and the incidental increase in power was just a byproduct. Of course, he did calculate that his combat abilities would significantly increase depending on how he used these powers, but even that was just to perform his duties as a fixer more efficiently.

As evidence, Oliver never overestimated his own strength or flaunted it. He would resolve conflicts through dialogue when possible and only fought when necessary.

And yet, most problems were resolved this way. Thinking back on it, he considered himself pretty lucky.

“Weren’t you lucky in the New Continent?”

“A bit of both. Good and bad. I met a demon.”

Merlin went silent.

“You don’t seem very surprised.”

“I heard that there were signs in the New Continent.”

This time, it was Oliver who fell silent. Thinking about it, it made sense. If Merlin knew about the burns on his right arm, it wasn’t a stretch to think he’d know about the signs too.

Oliver recalled the memory of checking the canteen.

In the abandoned mine, the water had turned red, and frogs had appeared, but when he reopened it at the hospital, it was just normal water again.

“I heard that the City’s beast went wild, the water turned red, and the frogs ran rampant. Those are among the signs of a demon’s descent. Guessing who was trying to summon the demon in that situation isn’t too hard.”

“I see.”

Oliver answered as he observed Merlin. It was still strange. The descent of a demon was a small or maybe a massive disaster.

Having met a demon, Oliver was painfully aware of that fact. Yet Merlin’s attitude was somewhat… different from what was usually expected.

It was hard to explain since he couldn’t read Merlin’s emotions, but there was something serene about it. Detached but not uninterested.

‘I don’t know how to describe this. Calm and objective but not indifferent.’

Merlin’s reaction felt distant in a different way than what others would likely feel.

“Did you fight the demon?”

“Yes… sort of. If you could call it a fight.”

Oliver explained in detail, forgetting the promise he made to the Pater Church at the world’s end, starting from The Burned One’s descent to the point he lost his memory.

It wasn’t difficult. Each event was so shocking that they were deeply engraved in his mind.

Emerging from between the legs of a girl, incinerating the Pinkman with a single breath, blowing people apart with just a voice or a glance, turning them into salt — these are not things one can easily forget.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I actually fought against The Burned One. He showed mercy and didn’t kill me. He could have, but he didn’t.”

Said Oliver, who had driven his hand into the demon’s body to unleash a massive White Flame. An accomplishment beyond the imagination of ordinary people, but to Oliver, it was nothing worth boasting about. That White Flame was only possible because the demon let it happen.

“But why did you try to stop him?”

“Huh?”

“I’m asking why you tried to stop The Burned One, the demon. You knew you couldn’t win and that you would uncover the City’s dirty secret.”

An unexpected question. Oliver scratched his cheek as he contemplated.

“Uh… Now that you ask, I’m not really sure. It just happened? The Burned One tried to kill Joanna, and I wanted to stop it. So, I lit a Filgarett and fought, and somehow, I just kept fighting.”

“Was there no moment where you thought to stop?”

Oliver paused to think again. Maybe there was.

“But still, I felt like I had to stop it.”

“Why?”

“Hmm… My job back then was to assist the Holy Knights, for starters.”

“And?”

“And… doesn’t it seem wrong?”

“…Hmm?”

“To burn down the whole City. Men, women, the elderly, children, pregnant women, even the Red Ones living in the slums… Isn’t wiping them all out kind of wrong?”

Oliver shrugged, signifying he found it difficult to explain further. Merlin gazed at him steadily, noting his reaction, which was both thoroughly normal and slightly abnormal.

“So, is this spar about preparing for another demon’s descent?”

“It might be more accurate to say it feels like I should do something. Seeing a demon descend made me feel a bit like the clock is ticking.”

Oliver answered while recalling Puppet, the first one to talk to him about the apocalypse. The successful summoning of a demon, now in the realm of myth, could only be explained by that.

“…Yeah, you’re right, something needs to be done. In that sense, you shouldn’t have followed me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The first rule of combat: Never let your opponent control the terrain.”

Snap!

Merlin snapped his fingers, focusing his magical power.

Using that as a signal, Merlin’s pure and vast magic, condensed at the tip of his fingers, quickly spread out in a thin veil, taking the form of a sphere and connecting with the natural magic of the Frozen Land, bringing it under Merlin’s control.

He had seized control of the area in the blink of an eye. As soon as he did, Merlin manipulated the magic, lowering the temperature further and causing even more snow to fall.

He mixed his vast magic with the natural magic around him, manipulating the weather and the temperature at will. It was theoretically possible, but only in theory. Seeing it done by a single person was startling.

“It can end up like this. So-”

-[Hate Bullet]

Just as Merlin was speaking, Oliver formed a gun shape with his fingers and fired a Hate Bullet. A sudden attack could sometimes be surprisingly effective.

“Good attack. Not very polite though.”

But the opponent was Merlin. Like a stage magician, he conjured a book out of thin air and ripped a page from it, throwing it immediately to block.

The page, imbued with massive magical power, sliced Oliver’s Hate Bullet in half and flew directly toward him.

Whoosh… Boom! Boom!

The page, flying through and slicing the Hate Bullet, was redirecting off the Emotion Robe Oliver had quickly wrapped around himself, causing it to crash harmlessly into the ground, raising a cloud of snow.

There was a sense of déjà vu in this development.

Merlin used the dispersed magic to move the thick cloud of snow into Oliver’s line of sight, obstructing it.

At the same time, the cloud of snow parted horizontally with a sharp and heavy sound.

Ching!

“The same attack method as before.”

Oliver commented as he barely managed to block the attack by raising the Quarterstaff.

“It’s the best way to gauge how much you’ve improved.”

Merlin had already moved behind Oliver. Holding a page, just like the first time they fought, but this time it hadn’t cut through Oliver.

That was good news. Back then, he couldn’t react at all, but now he had blocked it. That could be considered significant progress.

“You’ve improved.”

“Thank you for the compliment… You’re impressive too, Elder.”

“How so?”

“You compressed a specific space for that movement. So it wasn’t just simple high-speed movement.”

“…Ho.”

Merlin showed a slight but clear reaction. And he had a reason. The number of people who had grasped Merlin’s high-speed movement could be counted on one hand.

Most people couldn’t even react, and even those who survived didn’t understand what had hit them. Generally, they thought the movement was just body reinforcement using magic, but that wasn’t true.

Such a forceful movement naturally affected the surroundings, but Merlin’s method of moving was extremely quiet, in a way.

Like death. Quiet but powerful.

“It’s a simple method of movement utilizing spatial magic. You connect specific points and fold that space, like paper. How did you figure it out?”

“A demon on the New Continent showed something similar. It seemed a bit different from magic though… How are you able to do it, Elder?”

Merlin smiled.

“Because I’m with the Archive.”

With those words, Merlin threw a page towards Oliver.