The attacks from the five Waalthe were too one-sided.
Jared was battered and kicked, completely unable to fight back. He was trampled mercilessly by overwhelming violence. Each blow was incredibly heavy, his body screaming and creaking with just one hit.
He thought, “Almeida’s equal, no, even stronger.”
He was facing someone as strong as his Master, perhaps even stronger, and he couldn’t even hope to match him. While Almeida excelled more in magic than in physical combat, Waalthe had Jared cornered without even using magic. His cultivated experience and his honed body were weapons in themselves.
Jared managed to kill one of them by casting a spell, but another immediately appeared, resuming the attack as if nothing had happened. Even when he thrust his knife in just as he took a hit, the result was the same; a new clone appeared.
It was a desperate situation.
“I’ll acknowledge the spirit to try and kill me without hesitation. However, no matter how many clones you kill, until you eliminate the main body, this situation won’t change until my magic power runs out.”
One of the five Waalthe, looking down at Jared who lay on the ground, unable to move, spoke.
Jared, beaten to the point where he lacked the spirit to reply, could only manage to bite his lip slightly.
He reactivated his depleted Body Reinforcement Magic and forced himself to stand, but before he could even assume a stance, fists and kicks rained down on him.
Blood sprayed from his mouth and nose. His consciousness grew hazy, but the impact of the blows prevented him from losing consciousness.
With no time to chant, no chance to gather Magic Power, and no way to escape Waalthe’s fierce assault, Jared could do nothing but endure the continuous attacks.
“Are you going to surrender?”
“…Who would.”
He channeled strength into his trembling knees, desperately trying to stay upright, spitting blood and forcing a smile to feign that he still had reserves.
“Stubborn. Then, you should understand the difference in our strength a little more. Defeat is not shameful; as long as you live, it will become sustenance and make you stronger.”
Before Jared could retort, a fist slammed into his face. He stumbled back, only to be kicked from behind and sent sprawling forward. But before his body could even touch the ground, he was kicked back up. Blood splattered as he was lifted off his feet, and a relentless blow struck his abdomen.
“—Gah!”
He coughed up a ball of blood, for the umpteenth time, and choked. He fell to his knees, his forehead touching the ground as if begging for mercy. To a third party, it would have been a pathetic sight.
But—Jared’s eyes, hidden by his hair, were not dead. His spirit had not yet broken. Though facing downwards, invisible to Waalthe, an audacious smile played on Jared’s face.
In an instant, he channeled all his Magic Power into his Physical Prowess, shattering the ground and closing in on one of the five Waalthe. He grabbed the belt with his left hand, gripping it tightly, refusing to let go.
“You’re the main body!”
His right palm strike hit one of them, whom he presumed to be the main body. And then,
“—Impressive.”
Jared was speechless again as Waalthe, whose chin had just been struck, not only remained unfazed but even offered words of praise.
“Well done for discerning that I am the main body. I assume you determined it by observing the fluctuations in Magic Power.”
Jared’s eyes widened at Waalthe’s words.
“You must have realized I was the main body from the spirits’ perspective, not by interfering with them and casting magic. It’s due to your rare constitution.”
He had been seen through.
Waalthe didn’t question; he stated it as fact. And indeed, it was true.
Instead of interfering with the spirits, offering them Magic Power, and borrowing their strength for magic, Jared had borrowed their eyes. It was a taxing, on-the-fly decision and action, but it had succeeded. By seeing Waalthe through the spirits’ eyes, he had observed the Magic Power fluctuations and identified the main body creating the clones.
—And yet, he had been anticipated. His spontaneous action hadn’t even earned him surprise.
He couldn’t even feel frustration anymore. Faced with the overwhelming difference in strength and experience, Jared could only laugh.
“Why—did you take a blow you could have dodged?”
“A reward. It would be a shame to be defeated after being beaten so one-sidedly.”
“—I’ll kill you someday.”
“If that comes to pass, you will become a worthy warrior. But not now. For now, you have lost.”
Waalthe’s hand gently touched Jared’s chest.
Just as Jared wondered what he was doing, a shockwave struck, and he was sent flying.
The impact and pain, as if his entire body had been shattered, coursed through him. Unable to even scream, unable to brace himself, he fell ungracefully onto his back.
“This is called Magic Cannon. It’s not magic, but a simple release of Magic Power as artillery. However, this attack, which requires no incantation, becomes a formidable strike depending on the Magic Power infused. You should remember it.”
“Damn…”
“In my era, Elemental Magic existed, but it was used only on the spot. Everything else was just simple magic. True powerhouses, whether Magicians or Knights, were not bound by elements. You should learn more ways to utilize your gifted Magic Power.”
The force had been modulated. That was evident by the fact that he could still move. He poured all his strength into his limbs, slowly, trying to stand.
“I acknowledge your spirit to still try and fight. However, you have lost—Jared Murphy.”
Jared accepted Waalthe’s declaration as he was cruelly knocked down again, despite managing to stand.
The battle against Waalthe, the leader of Waalthe, ended in Jared’s defeat due to the overwhelming disparity in power.
Thus concluded the battle between Grandson and Grandfather.
