A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 302

 

A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special Novel


Chapter 302. Praying (5)



The moment Pierrot Mask disappeared into the shadows, Pram kicked against the ground, propelling himself away from his opponent.




Thousands of wires suddenly appeared where Pram once was, and soared upwards where Pram lept. They narrowly missed by a close margin, but the wires did not stop there; they gathered together mid-air and formed a spear, which rocketed itself towards Pram.




[-Lower your head, Pram!]




[Punishment of Tempest]




Romantica invoked the same spell she used to shoot down Brigant. A massive spear of storm appeared before her before it clashed with Pierrot Mask’s dark spear.




*Rumble*


Pram maneuvered gracefully through the air and swung his rapier towards the spear, which suddenly split with a shrill screech. Hundreds of silvery trajectories tore apart the air, each of the wires carrying deadly force behind them.




*Clash*




The attack had already been weakened by Romantica’s sniping, so it was unable to withstand Pram’s attack. The Blankšum rapier easily tore through the wires, splitting them in two. The shrapnel scattered through the sky before returning to darkness.




[-Front, 200 meters.]




Shortly after Romantica’s voice came to his ears, Pram activated his Cloud Walkers without delay. And at the location Romantica mentioned, he found himself face-to-face with Pierrot Mask.




The world had come to a standstill. As the world paused, Pram’s sword shot forward, his speed a testament to the extreme level of refinement his strikes carried.


*Boom*




The timing was perfect. Avoiding it was impossible.




But Pram’s expression hardened. The moment his sword penetrated Pierrot Mask’s face, his body scattered like it was an illusion and melted back into the shadows. Pram clicked his tongue in annoyance.




That was what had happened every time Pram nearly landed an attack. Time and time again his blade pierced smoke.




‘How the hell is he… ?’




He was practically invincible. No matter how many times he swung, or how badly Pierrot Mask was caught off guard, Pram’s attacks were destined to miss. Pram thought it was as though there was some supernatural force protecting him.




‘Wait, supernatural? Does he have a Blessing of Light?’




Though there was not anything concrete to suggest it, the


situation before him was so inexplicable Pram had no other ideas. If Pierrot Mask always had a Blessing of Light, why was he only using it now? Pram was befuddled, but trying to think through the new development wouldn’t give him any answers.




‘Whether that’s what it is or not, this technique is nearly impossible to deal with.’




Pierrot Mask had created spaces of pitch-black darkness around the battlefield, he seemed to be able to pop in and out of them as he pleased. He would suddenly jut out at an unnatural angle and launch his attack unannounced.




Pierrot Mask was basically invincible and could attack from anywhere he wanted. When he made use of his King-Class aura, Pram’s opponent had an unprecedented level of strength. Without Romantica’s backup and keen observation, he would have been unilaterally violated and lost miserably.




[-Right, 147 meters!]




But with the continent’s top sniper supporting him, Pram stood a chance at survival. Under her direction, Pram was able to avoid his sudden attacks and even attempt counter-attacks,


useless as they may be.




Of course, that did not give him the upper hand. Even when he managed to close the gap, if his blade were capable of hitting, the wounds would have been glancing at best.




But Pram was not an impatient fighter.




‘Just one time… I only have to hit him once.’




He was confident that if he succeeded in landing just one attack, he would knock down Pierrot Mask with that blow. With Romantica’s support, they were able to maintain a tense standoff, so if he fought calmly, that chance would surely arise.




[-Let’s try attacking simultaneously. Left rear, 39 meters!]




Upon grasping the position of Pierrot Mask, Pram again approached him. As he moved, Romantica fired her shot towards Pierrot Mask’s head, such that Pram’s sword and her blast would threaten him at the same time.


*Clash*




Pram’s sword stopped mid-thrust.




‘Wire… !’




In the dark, a thin wire that was indistinguishable to the naked eye had twisted around his sword, strangling it. Setting such a trap was implausible, unless Pierrot Mask had read the exact trajectory and timing of his attack as he made it.




“If this is the limit of your power, I’m disappointed.”




Pierrot Mask’s painful remark hurt, but not as much as the aura-coated dagger he threw would. Rather than use it to capitalize on the immobilized pram, he used it to casually deflect Romantica’s seasoned sniping. The dagger and blast collided midair, and the resulting collision launched the knife right back towards Pierrot Mask’s hand, where he naturally caught it.




“Priscilla promised me a good show, but this presentation is pathetic!”





A voice tinged with madness rang out. Pram hurriedly gathered his aura, cut himself free of the wire, and backed away.




*Booom*




More wires rushed forward from the darkness, aiming to constrict Pram’s arms and legs.




“Even the two of you working together is just plain boring! Forget a fun fight, you don’t even constitute a good warm-up for Desir Arman.”




Pierrot Mask’s voice rang from the sky above.




As Pram turned towards the source, his face paled. An innumerable number of wires encapsulated the sky above him, strung out in a spider’s web.




Looking down on his opponents, Pierrot Mask spoke decisively, his usual erratic nature eerily absent.


“Let’s end this.”




Pram’s intuition screamed at him to run, to flee. If he stayed, they were going to die.




When Pierrot Mask beckoned, the wires covering the sky were fired at the ground in an instant. Attacks poured in from all directions, making it impossible to dodge. Survival was dependent on deflecting or offsetting the incoming wires.




Romantica quickly began manipulating the air currents, sweeping the wires away from both her and Pram, sending them safely towards the ground.




[-Shit!]




Pram swung to cut what he could, but with their combined might, they barely managed to neutralize thirty percent of the wires. With the remaining attacks still flooding towards them, Pram quickly activated his Cloud Walkers to defend Romantica.




“Urgh!”



Numerous silvery traces were drawn and unfolded in the air. Thousands of attacks and defenses crossed in a few moments, and whenever there was a clash, Pram felt several handfuls of his aura being exhausted.




Pierrot Mask looked down from the sky and smiled at their struggle.




*Booom*




Soon after all of the wires reached the surface, a dust cloud rose accompanied by the violent collision of stone. All of the buildings in the surrounding area had been diced into small pieces and slammed into the ground, scattering into powder.




“Pram!”




“It’s all right. I managed to avoid a fatal wound.”




As the dust cloud lifted, Pram was seen clutching his shoulder. Blood dripped down from the fresh wound. Pram’s face distorted, but it was not just because of the pain.




‘I still haven’t caught up with him… !’




After their encounter in Pittsburgh, Pram was certain he had caught up to the assassin, but his hope was only an illusion. In terms of offense and defense, he was wildly outclassed. The difference between their skills and experience was too wide for Pram to overcome in a short period of time.




“Pram, let’s back off for now. The war is already progressing in our favor. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”




“It’s the same no matter how much you try. Your sword can’t reach me. Don’t bother me anymore. Just back off.”




Both Pierrot Mask and Romantica spoke at the same time. Ironically enough, they were communicating the same message: “Admit defeat, Pram Schneider.”.




“… I can’t give up here.”




Defeat was not something Pram could easily accept. If he


surrendered now, Pram was certain he would never reach his full potential.




“Pram… !”




“I can reach him.”




Pram’s tone was firm. In it, Romantica could feel an unwavering determination that said more than any words could.




Resigning herself, Romantica sighed deeply.




“… All right.”




*Kyiing*




To believe in one’s colleagues under any circumstances; this was the Starling Party’s character. If Pram thought he could win, then Romantica was determined to see his goal come to fruition.



“I’ll make sure your sword can reach him.”




* * *




‘Boring.’




Pierrot Mask slovenly weaved his hand, clearly disinterested in the fight before him. Though his wires show towards them, the two people he was fighting had already left his mind.




‘Desir Arman, got even stronger, didn’t he?’




Pierrot Mask had felt the overwhelming power that Desir had invoked as he appeared on the battlefield. It was clear that he had found a way to gain unimaginable strength.




‘I’m sure he can get me excited enough.’




He briefly imagined fighting him. Elegant wire would dance with brutish strength, their conniving minds constantly trying to one-up each other. Just when Pierrot Mask was about to


falter, he would swing back and nearly kill Desir, only to have his attack deflected. The glorious vision elicited a shudder from his body, as a tingling sensation traced his spine.




*Boom*




Silver aura exploded and scattered all over the place. The wire that he thought would rip Pram apart had been cut off. Though he was surprised by his survival and subsequent counterattack, it was not enough to vie for his attention. He cast a begrudging glance at Pram, only to be taken aback. The silver aura that encompassed his blade emitted a dazzling light, strikingly different from its previous intense glow.




That was not the only thing of concern.




[Mistral Blast]




[Sonic Breath]




Fifth-Circle spells poured towards him incessantly. Romantica unraveled shot after shot, making excellent use of her specialization to restrict his movement. Such an attack was so


thoroughly coordinated that even Pierrot Mask could not afford to respond in moderation.




‘Yes! Yes! Are you struggling with all your might?’




Pierrot Mask unleashed a wicked grin. For a brief moment, they presented him with a genuine conundrum, but that was not the only cause for his joy. Their reckless approach in their determination to pressure him would only result in their quick demise.




‘First from above, then a shot from behind, followed from a strike to the side.’




Pierrot Mask dodged the first two attacks, and then faded into the shadows, causing Pram’s third strike to harmlessly fall through the air.




His opponent had left himself wide open. Pierrot Mask instantly appeared behind Pram, and launched a dagger towards the base of his neck.




*Crash*





Romantica quickly turned to displace the attack, but without enough time to prepare, she could not alter its trajectory entirely.




*Splash*




Blood gushed from Pram’s trapezius, narrowly missing the side of his neck. He stumbled and the sudden imbalance, but he quickly recovered and made distance.




*Wheeze*




*Wheeze*




After fighting for so long, Pram had finally run out of stamina. Though he was upright, he seemed destined to fall over any moment now. He could barely continue to wield his sword.




Pierrot Mask shrugged.


“Hey kid. Are you ready to die yet?”




“One… more… ”




Pram kept mumbling.




‘Has the kid lost his mind?’




Pierrot Mask shook his head at the sight and waved his hand, his signature attack once again rushing towards Pram. Countless silver trajectories and wires intertwined in the air, causing an explosion.




The superiority of Pierrot Mask was clear.




‘Well, let’s put a little more effort into this and end it.’




With an air of decisiveness, Pierrot Mask fired a fire from Pram’s blind spot.




[Sonic Voice]





Just before it could sever Pram’s leg, the wire twisted from its original trajectory and shot towards Pierrot Mask’s head. Romantica had manipulated the air to take fine control of a single wire.




“Damn it! I said I was done! Why won’t you both just die?!”




This whole situation was driving him crazy. It was annoying before, but Romantica’s support always impeded his attacks with impeccable timing. Her constant intervention had turned a one-sided battle into a long, drawn-out slaughter.




‘I’ll give them one thing, they know how to work together’




He quickly stepped back to avoid the rogue wire, the sudden step interrupting his rhythm.




Pram used the momentary gap to strike with his rapier, but Pierrot Mask had already expected the attack. It was the same tactic used time and time again, just with a new twist of weaponizing his own wires against him. He simply invoked his ability and safely dodged several meters away.




‘Normally I would commend their efforts, but they’re just doing the same thing over, and over, and over again. Seriously, why won’t they just… Huh?’




Something was different. A warm feeling blossomed from Pierrot Mask’s face, so he moved his hand towards his cheek. A red line had been drawn across it. Pram’s rapier, which he had not allowed to touch him, had somehow made contact.




Pierrot Mask’s gaze turned to Pram, a flicker of cool anger in his eyes.




“No way.”




The moment their eyes met, Pram attacked again. Swords from both sides clashed once again.




This time, Pierrot Mask poured wires towards the gap where Romantica would likely fire, hoping to prevent her annoying distractions before they had a chance to intervene.


For a brief moment, Pierrot Mask had once again entered into a one-on-one matchup with Pram. Only then could he make out what Pram had been mumbling all this time.




“… Barely couldn’t reach, but I just need one hit. A little more time, and I’ll hit him. Just a little more… ”




Pram had not lost his mind; he had entered a deep trance where he focused on his own swordcraft and nothing else, oblivious to everything but his own weapon and his opponent’s.




Pram had broken his mental block and taken his first step into King-Class.






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