Luke let out a strange scream from the unexpected attack but quickly returned, stomping back angrily.
His gray hair was tangled with leaves, which he flicked off quickly.
“Looks like you can’t kill me!”
Luke was furious, and his well-trained muscles tensed.
Despite everything, his physique was ideal and sculpted.
His chest muscles swelled, threatening to tear his shirt, and veins popped along his neck.
His muscular body with visible veins was the kind of “manly” appearance that male readers would appreciate.
Luke kicked at Herace, just like he did with the wolf.
“I told you not to get excited.”
But the attack was instantly blocked by Herace’s violet shield.
The shield, shaped like delicate butterfly wings, looked fragile, but no matter how hard Luke struck, it didn’t break.
It looked delicate, but it was a magical defense, so it was no surprise that a mere sword couldn’t cut through it.
“Damn it…!”
Luke gritted his teeth in frustration.
“Even if you fought, there’s too big of a gap between you and me, who hasn’t even properly awakened yet. That’s why I was going to give you a penalty.”
“No need!”
“Really? Even with a penalty, if you win, I’ll give you the sword.”
“Need…”
Despite the flashy appearance, Luke hesitated, looking down at the sword that fit perfectly in his hand.
A sword was naturally essential for a swordsman.
Moreover, even though this sword looked like a toy, it was actually quite a good weapon.
After losing his family sword, it wouldn’t be easy to get a better one as a slave.
“…I need it.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
Luke answered, his pride taking a hit. Herace had expected this answer.
“The rules are simple. If you attack me even once, you win.”
The method Herace had chosen was the same as in many fantasy novels.
Clichés may provoke complaints, but they rarely fail.
“I’ll stand here, not moving. I won’t use defensive magic, just offensive magic. Try to dodge and reach me.”
“Why do you have so many penalties…”
Luke mumbled, clearly feeling disregarded.
“Should I use defensive magic then?”
“…No! Fine!”
Luke pulled the sword from its scabbard and leaped, using his strong legs to propel himself effortlessly into the air.
The thick muscles in his legs absorbed the shock from the ground and quickly closed the distance to Herace.
‘He hasn’t even started yet…’
As he thought that, Luke was already in front of Herace.
Herace’s red and bright yellow eyes widened.
Taking the first strike with an illegal move, Luke swung the sword.
The sharp blade flashed before Herace’s eyes.
For a moment, he was surprised by the speed, but it didn’t pose a real threat.
The magic was faster than the sword.
“Y-You crazy bastard! Who breathes fire in front of me like that?!”
Here is the translation that retains the original tone and meaning:
“You said you’d use offensive magic.”
“The range is way too wide! You’re going to roast me alive!”
Is he really going to cook me whole?
Herace crossed his arms and looked down arrogantly at Luke, who had collapsed on the ground.
Luke had lost his balance while hastily summoning the flames, tumbling across the floor.
Even the ends of his clothes had started to burn, the scent of singed fabric wafting through the air.
But, from the looks of his skin, he hadn’t been burned, so despite his size, he was surprisingly agile.
“If it’s too much, just give up. It’s just a sword you’re not getting. No need to suffer for it, right?”
“Never!”
Luke gritted his teeth.
As expected of a protagonist, the more you try to suppress their pride, the more they’ll spring back like a coiled spring.
Gotta scratch his nerves a bit before he breaks.
“Still too slow.”
Herace snapped his fingers, effortlessly igniting another burst of flame.
The intense heat forced Luke to jump back, dodging the fire.
Despite only using fire magic, Luke couldn’t even get close to him.
Herace, a great mage, was simply too much of a wall for Luke, who hadn’t even awakened yet.
At least, when it came to avoiding damage.
Thinking back to the wolves and the river incident yesterday, he didn’t seem to be afraid of pain.
Maybe he was just analyzing the pattern?
But honestly, there wasn’t much to analyze.
Herace just kept shooting flames when Luke charged.
“Isn’t there a lot of penalties?”
“Shut up!”
“Me? Who’s the one yelling here?”
“Ugh! Just shut up!”
Even though Herace kept poking at him, all Luke did was let out noisy complaints with no change in attitude.
Why did he keep shouting?
Was he trying to distract him?
Luke rushed forward again, cutting through the air.
Herace flicked his finger, sending flames flying.
Luke jumped off the ground.
His large body spun gracefully in the air and landed behind Herace.
The ground cracked beneath his powerful leap.
‘So he was thinking ahead.’
But would that be enough?
It wasn’t difficult for Herace to send flames behind him without even turning around.
As he attacked without a second thought, Luke’s frustration grew.
“Are you seriously causing all this trouble just because you don’t want to give me a damn sword? Cheap bastard! Small-minded! Your personality is trash!”
What?
Giving the sword to the protagonist would make him a villain?
Herace shook his head in disbelief.
“You were the one who wanted to fight in the first place. It’s funny how upset you are about the way things are going. Why suggest it if you’re going to complain?”
“Damn it.”
Luke didn’t answer logically but just cursed.
After all, in these types of stories, you can’t expect anything rational from a reckless, destructive protagonist.
“Do you think cursing will solve anything?”
“You…”
“Me?”
Luke lunged at him, and a purple flame erupted.
Luke rolled on the ground to dodge the flames, then aimed for Herace’s feet.
But Herace ducked and shot fire at the ground, forcing Luke to roll away again.
The remaining flames turned into petals and vanished.
“…I won’t tell you!”
He left Luke curious.
But judging by his flushed face, it didn’t look like Luke was going to explain things nicely.
It was probably something that didn’t need to be said.
Most likely, Luke would just keep yelling.
‘He’s dodging better than I thought.’
Luke’s earlier criticism was right.
Herace had been slightly increasing the flame’s intensity, just enough to make it more interesting for the story.
Like a sweet reward after a difficult struggle.
Still, Luke hadn’t sustained any serious injuries, just getting tired and frustrated.
‘Guess I have to call him a protagonist after all.’
Watching how desperately Luke moved, dodging every attack, was strangely fun.
Would he manage to keep dodging though?
How about this?
Every time a flame shot at him, Luke twisted his body to dodge, rolling on the ground, jumping, running…
Like a battle doll, he sprang to his feet every time he fell.
“Gasp, pant, damn… What kind of magic is this? Are you a dragon?”
“Such a big compliment. Please don’t get too fond of me. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Compliment? Ugh… no!”
Luke panted, kicking a rock that had rolled across the ground.
The stone flew far away with the force of his kick.
He still had some strength left, it seemed.
“Not a compliment? Then what was it?”
Maybe I’ll mess with him a little more.
“Just cursing!”
Herace sent out multiple small flames, which Luke nimbly dodged.
He leapt to avoid the low flames, ducked to avoid the higher ones, and twisted his waist to narrowly escape the precise shots.
His speed as he charged was impressive.
A body that could only be considered extraordinary if one could sense the magic.
It was a protagonist’s essential ability.
But…
Luke stumbled as he ran, his legs giving out.
“…”
“You tripped on a rock!”
No, he didn’t.
“Damn it, where did this rock come from?”
He’d kicked that rock away earlier, but now he was getting frustrated.
He stamped his foot on the ground, creating a dent in the earth.
Still, no matter how much Luke tried to show he was fine, Herace had to admit he’d made a mistake.
‘I should’ve let my guard down at the right time…’
He’d basically turned the protagonist into boiled vegetables.
This was a mistake for Herace, who had lived as an elite in the Dimensional Management Bureau for so long.
Thinking about it, he realized it had been a while since he had any real combat experience.
Even if the opponent wasn’t of the same caliber.
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