Volume 01, Chapter 25

  Maurice's Training [2]

  “Frost Knight Phalanx!” Maurice’s voice rings out, commanding the battlefield.

  A biting wind sweeps through the area, instantly dropping the temperature. I shiver as the cold air wraps around me, and frost creeps along the ground.

  The icy gust condenses into ten imposing knights, their forms sculpted entirely from glistening, jagged ice. Five brandish massive claymores, and the other five raise sturdy shields in defensive formations.

  “Dominic,” Maurice says, his tone almost casual, “this is one of the Everheart family’s signature spells. I once saw Louise Everheart in combat and replicated his spell from observation.”

  His smirk grows, but I barely register it. My mind races, trying to reconcile this revelation. Maurice’s magic attribute is Spatial. He confirmed it during our previous training. Yet here he is, wielding magic like an Everheart himself.

  So, this is the power of an [SS]-rank Magician.

  “Attack him!”

  At Maurice’s command, the five claymore-wielding knights charge, their frozen weapons glinting in the light as they close the distance with alarming speed.

  I need to close the gap to Maurice. If I get bogged down fighting these things, I’m done for.

  Pointing my guns forward, I sprint toward the oncoming knights.

  [Ironclad Barrage]

  -BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!-

  I unleash a storm of bullets. Ironclad Barrage, a foundational technique in Basic Gun Arts, prioritizes raw power and precision. The technique roots the user’s stance, leveraging stability for maximum accuracy while unleashing relentless firepower.

  Two knights use their claymores to expertly deflect my shots, shards of ice flying with each impact. The other three, undeterred, press forward, closing the gap.

  One knight swings its massive blade horizontally, aiming to cleave me in two. I leap onto the flat side of its blade mid-swing, using the momentum to propel myself into the air above them.

  -BANG! BANG! BANG!

  From above, I fire three shots. The bullets pierce through two of the knights, their forms shattering into misty fragments. The third knight raises its claymore just in time, deflecting my attack.

  I land with a roll and immediately resume my sprint toward Maurice. My guns are hot, but my focus burns hotter.

  Having deflected my initial barrage, the two remaining claymore knights pivot and advance on me. One raises its blade for a crushing overhead strike, while the other aims for a wide horizontal slash, attempting to box me in.

  Too slow.

  I sidestep at the last second, the icy blades missing by mere inches. Sliding through the narrow gap between them, I tumble forward and spin around to face their exposed backs.

  -BANG! BANG!

  My shots hit true. Both knights disintegrate into clouds of frost, their weapons clattering into icy shards before vanishing.

  !

  My instincts scream at me to move. Without thinking, I dive to the side just as a massive claymore crashed into the ground I’d been standing moments before.

  The final claymore-wielding knight charges, its weapon raised high.

  [Tactical Tumble]

  As its blade arcs downward, I perform a backflip, narrowly avoiding the strike while using the momentum to position myself perfectly. Mid-flip, I aim my gun directly at the knight’s helmet.

  -BANG!

  The bullet connects, shattering the knight’s icy visage into fragments. Its form dissipates into mist, leaving no trace behind.

  “Icicle Lance Barrage!” Maurice’s voice reverberates through the air, sharp and commanding, forcing me to act on pure instinct.

  I dive to the side just as a volley of massive icicles shatters the ground where I stood moments before, their icy fragments spraying like shrapnel.

  As I weave through the relentless barrage, I catch sight of Maurice surrounded by five shield-bearing knights, their formation impenetrable—almost. My eyes narrow as I spot a subtle gap in their defense. It’s slim, but it’s there. A weakness.

  Raising my guns, I take the shot.

  -Bang! Bang! Bang!

  One of the knights reacts instantly, shifting their shield precisely to block.

  -Clank! Clank! Clank!

  The bullets ricochet harmlessly off the shimmering barrier.

  “Tch!” I grit my teeth in frustration, the missed opportunity burning in my chest. Still, I refuse to falter. There’s no room for hesitation now.

  Drawing on my experience from the Stargate raid, I form a plan. If I can’t break through, I’ll go over.

  Charging forward, I unleash a fresh salvo of bullets to disrupt Maurice’s concentration.

  -Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  In response, another flurry of icy lances erupts from Maurice’s outstretched hand.

  -Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

  The clash of my bullets against the lances creates a chaotic explosion of smoke and glittering ice shards, obscuring the battlefield in a blinding haze.

  Shielding my face from the debris, I press on, my boots crunching over shattered frost. As the smoke thins, I spot the unmistakable silhouette of a shield directly ahead. This is it—my opening.

  I spring onto the shield’s flat surface, using it as a springboard to vault high into the air. The knights below try to reposition, but they’re too slow. From above, I lock my sights on Maurice, his expression cool and composed, an amused smirk curling his lips.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Maurice moves with effortless grace, sidestepping each shot as though he’s performing a deadly waltz. His movements are frustratingly perfect, almost taunting.

  [Gravity’s Gambit.]

  With a sharp pivot, I redirect my guns mid-air, firing downward to adjust my trajectory. The recoil propels me forward, closing the gap between us.

  “Hah!” With a burst of energy, I twist mid-air, aiming a kick directly at his head.

  Maurice counters smoothly, his ornate cane rising to meet my strike.

  Bam!

  The impact sends a shockwave through both of us, the force crackling in the frosty air.

  Without missing a beat, I drop low, crouching beneath his guard. My gun comes up, its barrel aimed squarely at his face.

  Bang!

  The shot rings out, piercing the stillness like a thunderclap. My heart skips a beat as the bullet finds its mark, creating a gaping hole through Maurice’s head. For a moment, time freezes.

  Then, his figure dissolves into a swirling mist.

  “What—?!” My breath catches as I tumble, rolling to regain my footing. Disoriented, I scan the battlefield, searching desperately for his trace.

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  The icy air bites at my skin, the silence deafening.

  Where is he?

  “Dominic, you’ve been fighting an ice clone of me this entire time.” Maurice’s voice echoes through the icy battlefield, calm and deliberate. I spin around, my heart racing, eyes darting searching for the source.

  Ice clone? The realization hits like a thunderbolt. Lumi never used anything like this in the web novel!

  As if on cue, the five shield-bearing ice knights around me dissolve into mist, vanishing as though they were never there.

  “Everhearts are well aware of their weakness in close combat,” Maurice explains, his voice reverberating from everywhere and nowhere. “That’s why they perfected the ‘Ice Clone’ spell—a technique capable of mimicking their magical abilities and appearance.”

  -Chime!

  The slow-motion effect of the Chrono Pendant abruptly ends, and the world snaps back to its natural flow. Clouds resume their gentle drift across the sky, and the giant ice clock that had loomed over the battlefield disappears as if it never existed.

  Without the pendant’s time-slowing effect, I suddenly feel exposed, every nerve in my body on high alert. Maurice is nowhere to be seen, and the anticipation of a surprise attack sets my heart pounding.

  But with the clock gone, this might be my only chance to reactivate the pendant.

  “Activate!”

  -Tick-Tock!

  The world around me shifts again, dragging into that familiar, sluggish tempo. My guns are poised and ready, tracking every subtle movement.

  There!

  A sharp jolt of instinct sends me spinning around, my gun snapping to aim. There he is—Maurice, standing behind me, calm and composed.

  -Bang!

  The bullet tears through him with precision, a perfect shot—yet instead of falling, Maurice disintegrates into a flurry of snowflakes.

  Another clone?!

  Before I can react, searing pain explodes in my abdomen. My breath catches as I glance down in horror. Maurice’s cane is impaled clean through me, the chill of the ice-infused weapon radiating through my body.

  “Blegh!” Blood spills from my lips as I stagger forward, and then I feel him—Maurice—right behind me.

  “Dominic,” he whispers, his voice calm yet chilling. “The Everhearts thrive by striking when least expected, ambushing their opponents when they’re most vulnerable.”

  With a harsh yank, he withdraws the cane, and the pain intensifies, nearly knocking me to the ground. I collapse, clutching my wound, desperate to stem the bleeding.

  Maurice stands over me, methodically cleaning his cane with a cloth, his expression unreadable.

  “You rely too much on instinct to dodge,” he observes, his tone almost conversational.

  He’s right. My—no, Dominic’s—high instinct stat has been my crutch, guiding me through every encounter.

  “You won’t always rely on your instinct,” Maurice continues, tossing a small vial to the ground near me. “To truly refine your evasion, listen. Use your ears, not just your gut.”

  Ignoring the sharp pain, I grab the healing potion and down it in one gulp. Its effects are immediate, and a soothing warmth spreads through me as my wound begins to close.

  “That’s enough for today,” Maurice declares, his tone signaling the end of the session.

  He sits beside me, gazing up at the sky as if nothing had happened.

  The system's notification flashes in my vision. I exhale deeply, relief washing over me. Another training session survived—barely.

  Though I didn’t defeat Maurice, I endured. And now, I have valuable insight: Lumi can use ice clones. That crucial detail was never mentioned in the web novel.

  I glance at Maurice, quietly grateful for the lesson, even if it came at a painful cost.

  "Now, I want you to recall the lessons I gave you today," Maurice says, his sharp gaze fixed on me.

  I nod, taking a moment to summarize the key points he drilled into me. "Everhearts are not adept at close combat, and relying solely on instincts for dodging is insufficient. One of their signature spells involves summoning ice knights, and they excel in ambush tactics."

  Maurice’s lips curl into a small smile of approval. "Very good."

  Even though I’m aware of Lumi’s weaknesses, I deliberately avoid mentioning them. Maurice might grow suspicious if I seem too knowledgeable about her abilities without facing her.

  He tilts his head slightly, his expression curious yet calculating. “Dominic, let me ask you a random question. If the Everhearts are weak in close-quarters combat, why would they try sneaking up on their enemies after the enemies mistakenly attacked an ice clone?”

  The question catches me off guard. It’s something I’ve wondered about while reading the web novel. Why would Lumi try to ambush their opponent with something as risky as an ice sword when they’re not built for close combat?

  “…I honestly don’t know,” I admit, shrugging slightly.

  Maurice chuckles softly, the sound both amused and patient. "It’s a matter of psychology, Dominic."

  He leans forward slightly, tapping his cane against the frosted ground. "When an opponent realizes they’ve been fighting a clone, their natural reaction is panic, confusion, or overconfidence. If they panic, their judgment falters, leaving them vulnerable. If they grow overconfident, they underestimate Everheart’s real attack. In either case, the Everheart exploits this momentary lapse, striking when the opponent’s mental defenses are weakest."

  His explanation makes sense. By creating chaos in the enemy’s mind, the Everhearts turn their weakness into an advantage, forcing their opponent into a reactive state rather than a proactive one.

  “That’s why Lumi, or any Everheart, would close the distance despite their lack of close-combat skills,” Maurice continues. “The ambush isn’t about overpowering the opponent—it’s about finishing them off before they recover from the mental disruption. Precision and timing, not brute strength, are their survival tools.”

  I nod, absorbing his words. “So, it’s not just about the attack—it’s about controlling the flow of the fight.”

  “Exactly,” Maurice affirms, his voice carrying a note of finality. “Remember, a true magician doesn’t just wield magic—they manipulate their opponent’s expectations. That’s what makes the Everhearts dangerous despite their apparent weaknesses."

  His words resonate, adding another layer to my understanding of combat tactics. Lumi’s fighting style suddenly seems less reckless and more calculated.

  A quiet moment stretches between us, and I take the opportunity to admire the serene beauty of the sky. Clouds drift lazily overhead, their soft shapes unbothered by the intensity of the training session I just endured.

  Maurice’s voice breaks the silence. “By the way, where did you get that artifact?” He nods toward the Chrono Pendant, its golden chain peeking from my pocket.

  The question catches me off guard, but I keep my composure, sticking to my crafted story. “Dad gave it to me after I raided the [E]-ranked Stargate last Sunday.” I will ensure not to let slip its true origin as a reward from the system.

  “I see,” Maurice replies nonchalantly, his gaze returning to the sky. After briefly pausing, he adds, “Also, I didn’t mention this earlier, but you’ve improved significantly since last Saturday. You managed to get close to me, which is no small feat. Well done.”

  “Thanks, Professor,” I say, trying to suppress the small swell of pride his rare compliment brings.

  As the silence returns, my thoughts drift back to something bothering me. Maurice claimed earlier that he had replicated Louise Everheart’s ice magic, but his affinity is supposed to be Spatial magic. The discrepancy gnaws at me until I finally speak up.

  “Professor, how did you do it?” I ask, my curiosity breaking through.

  Maurice glances at me, one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

  “How were you able to replicate Louise’s ice spells?” I clarify. “I thought your affinity was for Spatial magic, not Ice.”

  Maurice chuckles softly, the sound light but tinged with mystery. “It’s much better if you don’t know,” he says, his tone dismissive yet strangely foreboding.

  His cryptic response fuels my curiosity, but I know better than to press him. “Uhh…okay,” I mutter, feeling the weight of unanswered questions settles over me.

  “By the way, take this.”

  Maurice reaches into his coat and pulls out a pristine white shirt, handing it to me without further explanation.

  I blink at the unexpected gesture. “Why are you giving me this, Professor?”

  Maurice lets out a faint sigh, scratching the back of his head—a rare display of unease. “Well, after you passed out during our last session, André and I… had a bit of a disagreement.” His expression tightens briefly, then softens. “If he finds out I stabbed you today, he’ll challenge me to a duel without a second thought, and frankly, I’d rather avoid that kind of hassle.”

  Understanding dawns on me, and I can’t help but chuckle. “I see.”

  Quickly, I change into the clean shirt, grateful for the gesture despite the chaotic circumstances. As the soft fabric settles against my skin, I feel a strange sense of normalcy returning, even after everything that’s happened.

  “You should head back to school; Arthur might be worried about you,” Maurice says, his tone as casual as ever.

  “Can’t you just teleport me back?” I ask, half-hoping for an easy way out of the trek ahead.

  “I could,” he replies with a slight smirk, “but I don’t want to. You’re a big boy—you can handle it.”

  I groan, letting out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Where’s the school from here?”

  Maurice gestures into the distance, pointing toward the horizon. “Right there.”

  Squinting, I make out the faint silhouette of the middle school nestled far below, its outline just visible from our high vantage point.

  “You’re telling me I have to walk there? On foot? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I turn to Maurice, hoping for a last-minute reprieve, but he merely nods. “Consider it part of your training. The thin air up here will help you regulate your oxygen levels. Plus, the cold will teach you to adapt to different environments.”

  His explanation feels more like a convenient excuse than a genuine lesson. “That sounds like you just don’t want to teleport me.”

  Maurice shrugs nonchalantly. “Take it however you want. But remember, learning to endure the cold is valuable, especially when facing someone like Lumi, whose magic revolves around Ice.”

  The mention of Lumi’s attribute clicks. Of course. This isn’t just about walking—it’s about preparing for tomorrow's duel. As much as I want to argue, I know he’s right. Even so, I’m still sore, tired, and, oh yeah, freshly stabbed.

  “Fine,” I grumble. “See you tomorrow, Professor.”

  I turn and start trudging toward the distant school, my legs protesting the upcoming hike.

  “Oh, by the way!” Maurice’s voice stops me mid-step. I glance back, half-annoyed, half-curious.

  “Deactivate the effect of your magic artifact!” he calls out, pointing at the Chrono Pendant still faintly glowing around my neck.

  “Uh, okay…” I hesitate. I’ve never had to deactivate it before—it usually stops independently. “Deactivate?”

  -Chime!

  To my surprise, everything around me snaps back to its regular pace. The sharp clarity of sound and motion feels almost jarring after the slowed-down state.

  Maurice nods in approval. “Good. And Dominic—” His voice takes on a rare serious tone. “Since you managed to close the gap between us today, I’m confident you can beat her tomorrow. Just don’t choke mentally.”

  I pause, his words lingering in the frosty air. “Are you only saying that to make me feel better?” I ask, skepticism creeping into my voice.

  Maurice shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Nope. It’s genuine. Take it or leave it.”

  I can’t help but sigh. But judging by his tone—and the fact that Maurice is an [SS]-rank magician who doesn’t hand out praise lightly—I know he means it. That alone gives me a flicker of confidence.

  “Thanks, Professor,” I mutter, turning back toward the forest.

  As I start my trek down the rugged path, the cold biting at my exposed skin, Maurice’s parting words replay in my mind. His advice feels less like a burden and a challenge—a chance to prove I’m ready, not just to him, but to myself.

  The forest stretches endlessly ahead, the chill settling deep into my bones. Still, I push forward, determined to see this through.

  Nothing terrible is going to happen, right?