"Stand down. If you do, I will give you everything."
Esther stared at the figure in front of her, which appeared to be an illusion.
She was on a path of curiosity, wondering what kind of trick this was. If they attacked, she was ready to show them that they were not on the same level.
But the response was unexpected. They didn't engage in combat.
Instead, they cast a spell on the magic circle they had drawn, and the result was an iwizard of a distant figure.
An illusion.
'Quite the clever trick.'
That thought crossed her mind. A spell that could summon an illusion like this must require considerable resources.
It was a spell that bridged long distances.
There was a difference between making an illusion appear and showing someone as they really were.
People said there were wizards who could do that with something like a water mirror, but it wasn't common.
It wasn't Esther's area of expertise, nor had she ever seen it done.
Despite her inner thoughts, Esther stood calmly without blinking.
A breeze blew by. She had left the Capital and come to a nearby forest.
Two wizards who had created the illusion spell circle stood respectfully with their hands clasped beside her.
And now, the figure emerged through the illusion.
Count Molsen, someone she had seen alongside Encrid.
"For a wizard, the most important thing is a world that aligns with their will. What I offer is clear. What do you say?"
The figure radiated confidence. They clearly believed there was no reason for her to refuse.
He wasn't asking her to help him, nor to betray anyone, and he certainly wasn't asking her to scheme against Encrid.
He only wanted one thing.
For her to step back and watch.
There was no need to weigh both sides. The person before her wielded advanced magic. The artifacts and research materials he was offering were valuable. Highly valuable.
In contrast, what he was asking wasn't particularly significant.
This man understood what was important to a wizard.
The two wizards standing beside her assumed Esther would nod in agreement.
Count Molsen had likely calculated this, too.
Esther had stayed by Encrid's side to remove the curse, but now, Encrid's presence wasn't necessarily required.
She had already opened a new path using part of the curse.
Things had changed now.
So, the offer was indeed tempting. It would provide her with resources to expand her world.
There was no reason not to accept.
It was annoying how Count Molsen seemed to understand that, but it didn't really matter.
Even if he was playing games, she had the power to ignore it.
The experiences she had endured with the curse remained fully within her world.
Esther quietly stared into the eyes that gazed at her without speaking.
Being an illusion, they were colorless.
She locked eyes with the colorless illusion. The sight of it made her chuckle.
As she smiled and burst into laughter, the two wizards beside her turned their gaze toward her.
She sensed them flinch. They were ready to act if things went south.
When Esther raised her arm, her coat parted, revealing the form-fitting outfit underneath.
There was a flicker of lust in the eyes of the two wizards.
As she looked at the illusion and the two wizards who followed others' words like puppets, Esther reminded herself of who she was.
She was a witch who wielded the fire of the Dark World.
A witch who fought, struggled, and carved out a path through the world.
A witch born to seek truth through fire.
Therefore, she would not be swayed by the will of others. This wasn't for Encrid's sake at all.
"Well, well."
The Count spoke first. There was something like fire in Esther's eyes.
"I will burn it all the same."
Esther spoke, and for the first time since being cursed, she drew fire from within her world.
She had traveled far, and the sun was nearly set.
"A pity."
The Count spoke just before the illusion disappeared, his tone so calm it was hard to tell if he truly felt regret.
"Do you think he's still alive?"
He asked.
Who else could he be referring to?
Esther sneered at him.
"If he were the kind to die from something like this, he would've been dead long ago."
As if he would die just because one wizard was gone.
"As if?"
"Step aside. If you do, I will give you everything."
Esther paused for a moment, wondering if referring to them as 'only that' was appropriate.
She thought for a brief moment but her body moved on its own. The flames flared up. The two wizards began casting spells to resist. It was useless. Their resistance was meaningless.
They and she were on different levels, possessed different things, and had walked different paths.
* * *
Rem was running, thinking to himself. They're hiding something.
Should he just face it head-on?
That would be fun, but flipping the situation on them would probably be even more entertaining.
He decided to do both.
As he ran, he pulled out a sling. He placed a round stone into the leather launcher and spun the attached strings above his head.
Whir, whir, whir.
What started as a gentle rotation quickly escalated into a sharp, piercing sound.
It was like running with a disc above his head.
The Madman of Immortality didn't even look back and dashed into the alleyway.
Rem didn't chase after him. Instead, he stepped onto the protruding eave of a nearby shop and leaped upward.
His body soared into the air. He climbed onto the roof and ran. The disc above his head followed him like a spear. The moment Rem had a clear view from the rooftop, he shot the stone.
Hitting a target while standing still was difficult enough, but doing so while running—well, that was Rem for you.
Whoosh.
The stone flew so fast that its trajectory was barely visible and struck the back of his opponent's thigh.
Boom!
However, it wasn't the sound Rem had expected.
Why did it sound like a drum bursting?
Behind the man, a spear shaft had snapped.
'Sorcery?'
And high-level sorcery at that. Where did he learn such things?
It must've been from killing his own kind.
"You're dead meat."
Rem muttered to himself, confirming his resolve.
Even though the man couldn't hear him, Rem still spoke aloud. That was how determined he was.
He shot a few more stones, and the four spears following behind the man shattered into pieces.
Shards of wood scattered through the air.
The Madman of Immortality didn't stop running, darting through the alleyways until he finally emerged into a wider space. It was a place that the back-alley crowd referred to as the plaza.
It wasn't very large—about one-fourth the size of the Capital's central square.
In the center of Nauril's Capital, there was a plaza with a fountain, but this open area was the polar opposite of that in atmosphere.
Still, it was large enough for twenty men to brawl in.
Thud!
This time, the stone hit the ground. A cloud of dust rose as broken fragments scattered in all directions.
The Madman of Immortality had rolled on the ground, and that's how he managed to avoid it.
Even so, the next stone eventually struck the back of his thigh.
If it weren't for the layered, specially made leather guards he wore, his leg would've been pierced, or the flesh torn apart. But it didn't come to that.
Instead, he grunted in pain, holding back a groan as he limped to his feet.
Rem tossed aside the sling with its broken leather strings and looked down at the gathering crowd.
From the roof, he naturally looked down while the others gazed up at him.
"Wow, is this some kind of reunion?"
Rem spoke with a hint of admiration.
One by one, he observed them. They were all from the west.
He didn't recognize any faces, but the atmosphere gave it away. They were all fugitives.
The Madman of Immortality held his thigh for a while before standing up.
It seemed to have hurt quite a bit.
"You… You're not leaving here alive."
The Madman of Immortality saw Rem's very existence as a threat. If left alone, he knew Rem would keep coming after him, determined to kill him.
That's why he got involved in this matter and interfered.
His sole purpose was clear.
To kill Rem.
To achieve this, he gathered those who were once fugitives from the West. Among them were some he had taken as his disciples, and others were mercenaries who came purely for payment.
The one thing they had in common was that all twenty of them were once candidates to become warriors of the West.
"Was it him?"
"Did he gather all of us just to take down one guy?"
"I think I've seen him before."
"That's the one they call the Immortal Rem. He's famous around the Border Guard area."
"Famous? That's a joke. If he's just hiding out in the frontier, he's probably not much. 'Immortal'? Sounds like something out of a Velopter scale shed."
Velopter referred to a type of reptilian mount in the West. Since its scales almost never shed, saying something like 'Velopter scale shed' was akin to saying something was ridiculously improbable.
Each of the gathered men made a remark. Their voices overlapped, but it wasn't hard to hear them.
Among them, there were several who stayed silent, only their eyes gleaming.
Those ones were clearly 'ready'.
Ready to fire the wind guns at their waists.
"Disgraced fugitives always seem to be the loudest."
Rem muttered as he crouched down, bending his legs. He crouched on the rooftop, scanning the gathered group.
Only a bunch of trash had come together.
After watching for a moment, Rem pulled a sling from his chest, loaded a bullet neatly, then pulled out another sling and wedged it between his legs, using his thighs as an extra set of hands to load a second bullet.
With his movements, the round bullets in the pouches tied to his waist clinked together as they slid into place.
Holding two slings in his hands, he stood up and started spinning them simultaneously.
Whiiirrrrr!
Two circular discs formed in the sunlight behind Rem, spreading out diagonally like wings to either side.
As Rem kicked off the roof and leaped upward, the two spinning discs gave the illusion that they were keeping him suspended in mid-air like wings.
Of course, that wasn't really happening. It was just a trick of the eye.
When Rem flicked his wrists, the bullets flew with a speed that was hard to follow, accompanied by a soft 'thwack' as they did their work.
Whoosh!
Half of the Western fugitives raised shields.
Some had thick, leather-reinforced shields, while others held small shields strapped to their wrists.
Those holding small shields trusted in their skill. They were adept at spreading out the impact points, which is why they carried only shields large enough to cover their faces.
But the heads of the two men carrying small shields burst open like smashed pumpkins.
Bang! Bang!
The sound was crisp. Blood and brains splattered into the air.
Blood became paint on the canvas of the now-darkened gray ground mixed with filth.
The bullets were twice as fast as those that had hit the Madman of Immortality earlier, much faster than the group had anticipated, and consequently, much deadlier.
Two Western fugitives died without even a chance to resist.
Thud, thud.
The two fell backward, lifeless.
As Rem landed back on the ground, he started spinning the slings again.
Whoosh, whoosh, whiiirrr!
"Block it!"
The Madman of Immortality shouted.
'Yeah, right.'
Rem had already mapped out the fight from start to finish. It would start with the sling and end with the axe.
In this place, the Madman of Immortality would die without question.
It was a foregone conclusion. Time had passed since Rem first encountered the Madman. In the meantime, Rem had been beaten by that madman, Ragna.
How much that loss had affected him was something even Encrid didn't know.
The loss had pushed Rem to train relentlessly. He swung his axe and honed his skills, even secretly incorporating parts of Encrid's Isolation Technique that he thought he could apply to himself during training.
There was no time to be picky about whether it was a cold or hot stew.
At that moment, it didn't matter if the food in his mouth was made by ghouls or by humans, what mattered was filling his belly.
'Damn Ragna.'
Even now, thinking of that bastard Ragna filled him with energy.
Fueled by his rage, Rem unleashed his strength on the enemies before him.
After hurling two more stone bullets at the advancing men, those with large shields began closing the distance.
Thud, thud!
The multi-layered leather shields reinforced with processed rubber wood could withstand the impact of the bullets.
The bullets embedded themselves into the shields without breaking through.
"Crazy bastard."
One of the shield-bearers muttered, his face pale.
The stones had turned out to be far more threatening than he had imagined, but was now the time to let their momentum falter?
It was not.
If their morale broke, neither sorcery nor martial arts would be of any use.
Regardless of whether his opponents were steeling their resolve, Rem saw the advancing men, released the slings that were still intact, and reached for his waist.
There, he gripped the handle of his axe.
One of the enemies, seeing the long-handled axe, immediately leaped forward.
It was a speed that was hard to ignore. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Rem.
It was a spell-enhanced 'Lightning Step'.
As if he had anticipated this, Rem drew his axe and thrust it forward.
It wasn't as fast as the Lightning Step, but it was perfectly timed.
It was as if the man had run right into it on purpose.
The charging man became the first victim of the axe blade.
Thump.
The axe blade, standing upright, split the man's head in two.
Naturally, someone with a head split in two can't survive.
Yet, unaware that he was already dead, his body continued to lunge toward Rem.
His hand gripped Rem's thigh. His specialty had always been grappling and breaking bones.
And so, gripping Rem's thigh, he died.
Rem, with the man still hanging from him, began swinging his axe.
Whoosh, crack, bang, thud!
These men were nothing compared to Encrid.
The only real threat was the Madman of Immortality.
He hurled his spear, mimicking a downstrike weapon, then rushed forward with another spear in hand.
It was threatening, sure, but…
'Still far beneath that bastard Ragna.'
After dancing around Ragna's blade, this was nothing. Rem's axe swiftly split the heads of five men, then severed the limbs of the sixth and seventh. The tide of battle had turned.
These were men who hadn't even prepared themselves to risk their lives. That's why they had become fugitives in the first place.
"He's a monster!"
One of the men shouted. Even the Madman of Immortality had just realized it.
The moment the thought of escape crossed his mind, he hurled all his remaining spears and grabbed the arm of one of his so-called disciples, throwing him with the strength of a bear, aided by a strength-enhancing spell.
"Masterrrr!"
The disciple's cry as he was thrown was pitiful.
Rem swung his axe at the flying human projectile.
Whoosh! Thud!
With the strength of a heart filled with raw power, Rem's arm held the force of a Giant.
Holding his breath, he swung the axe in a diagonal slash.
The blade carved a perfect line toward the flying human projectile. Rem could feel the sensation of cutting through flesh, muscle, and bone as it passed through.
The weight of the body pressed against him, but he endured it, and soon a sense of relief washed over him.
The axe had fully cleaved through the man's body.
With a 'thud', the split body fell in two, brushing past Rem's shoulders as it dropped to the ground.
Blood poured out, drenching Rem's entire body.
Rem's gray eyes, now stained red, gleamed with light. He saw the back of the man fleeing.
If anyone were to ask what Rem had trained the most after encountering the Madman of Immortality, he would confidently answer:
His leg strength.
That's why he'd even stolen and trained in the Isolation Technique.
"If I lose him again, my mother must be a ghoul."
Muttering a phrase he had picked up from Encrid, Rem kicked off the ground.
The Madman of Immortality sprinted away swiftly, and Rem pursued him without hesitation.
It wasn't that no one else had survived the battle, but those who did were left standing, blinking in shock.
They had only survived by sheer luck.
Their gazes followed Rem and the Madman of Immortality as they ran.
Earlier, there had been a chase, but one side had set traps, and the other had knowingly fallen into them.
This time was different.
There were no traps, and the one chasing was fully determined.
It would take no more than half a day before he was caught and killed. The survivors foresaw the Madman of Immortality's fate and began to move.
Staying here would only mean a meaningless death.