Chapter 734: The Madhound of Presepe [1]

There were quite a few notable figures coming from the Marquis’s camp.

In particular, I had to pay attention to the twins of Roland, Captain Albas, and the Madhound of Presepe. I had done my research in advance and was quite aware of their reputation.

’The twins are both High-Wizards, just on the edge of becoming Arch-Wizards like me. They both specialize in fire and ice magic. If I have to target someone, they should be my main priority. At least, I have to catch them before they can reunite.’

The two were famous for their impeccable teamwork.

So much so that if the two worked together, even an Arch-Wizard would struggle with them. For that reason, I had to target them first.

Captain Albas and the Madhound were each more powerful on their own, but the twins, if together, were definitely more troublesome for me to handle.

It was a no-brainer for me, and as I felt the threads sinking deep into the ground, a certain figure appeared beside me. Its body was shrouded in a black cloak, floating silently in the air.

It didn’t say a word, nor was it capable of saying anything.

The will of the ’Melanchony of Persuit’ wasn’t one that had any shred of intelligence.

It was more like a dog.

One that I needed right now as I activated [Mana Sense] and shared my vision with Pebble.

"Find me one of the twins. Look for either ice or flame elemental traces."

The Melanchony didn’t say anything and just vanished into the air.

Even though it disappeared from sight, I could still sense exactly where it was. Its body shot swiftly toward the forest, its empty gaze scanning the surroundings, searching for any trace of ice or flame magic.

The will was an efficient one.

A few moments after fading, it managed to pick up something as I checked with my threads and smiled.

"...Yes, I feel it too."

It looked like I had found my first target.

***

Rustle~

The bushes rustled as a figure emerged, eyes calmly scanning the surroundings. He stood tall, his silver-blue gaze fixed ahead, cold and unreadable.

Syre calmly walked ahead without any concern.

A thin layer of ice formed with each step that he took.

Despite his calm steps and composed demeanour, he kept a constant watch on his surroundings, ready to strike at any moment. The trees whispered from above, and an uneasy stillness settled over the air.

Syre’s steps came to a sudden pause.

Then—

Swoosh!

Several dozen magic circles flared to life behind him, forming in rapid succession before streaking off in a single, focused direction.

BANG!

Trees splintered and dirt erupted into the air as a lone figure burst from the spot Syre had struck. He was quick, but not quick enough. Syre’s eyes blazed into icy blue orbs, the air around him dropping to a biting chill as the magic circles spun into existence even faster than before.

In less than a second, over a hundred magic circles floated in the air as Syre raised his hand and pointed towards the figure, large ice blocks shooting in his direction.

Swoosh! Swoosh!

His attacks were incredibly fast. Even faster than before.

And yet—

As if he had eyes at the back of his head, his target managed to avoid each attack with nimble and quick movements.

But there was a limit to how many he could avoid.

With the sheer volume of attacks closing in, the figure faltered, the gap in his defences shrinking with every deflection.

But then...

Thud!

Landing onto the ground, something changed.

The icicles that were heading in his direction suddenly froze in the air, as if time had suddenly stopped.

"Huh...?"

Syre’s brows furrowed tightly as he stared at the sight.

For a brief moment, he was confused.

Just a brief moment.

Even so, it was enough for the tide to suddenly turn as the icicles gave a faint twitch in midair, then slowly pivoted until their sharp points were aimed back at Syre.

"....?!"

Instantly, Syre’s face changed, but it was too late.

By the time he grasped what was happening, dozens of icicles had already launched toward him, moving even faster than before.

’Telekinesis!? How...!?’

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Syre had been filled in on his opponent, and he knew his skills and what he specialized in.

He was an Emotive Curse Magician.

Telekinesis...

It shouldn’t be possible!

Swoosh! Swoosh—!

And yet, his eyes did not deceive him. Julien truly appeared to wield telekinesis. Syre clenched his teeth and drove his foot into the ground, an immense ice-blue magic circle flaring to life beneath him as towering walls of ice surged upward to shield him.

It had to be noted that his casting speed was incredibly quick.

By the time the icicles had reached him, the walls had already formed and blocked all of the attacks.

BANG!

The surroundings shook, and the walls shattered.

An icy mist rose in the air, momentarily rendering Syre’s vision null.

"Hoo..."

A thin stream of icy mist slipped from Syre’s lips as he closed his eyes, attuning himself to the air and every subtle disturbance within it.

In an instant, his eyes snapped open, head whipping to the right just as a figure burst forth, his open palm enlarging as it grew closer to him.

A magic circle quickly formed in front of his face, a powerful attack forming.

But right as he did, his expression changed drastically.

’Shit!’

It was an illusion.

The hand before him faded, and the hair at the back of his head rose as he felt a presence quickly appearing behind him.

Syre’s heart leapt out of his chest as he started to panic.

He could tell that it was too late for him to do anything as Julien reached for his exposed back.

It was over.

...At least, it was supposed to be.

"Now!!"

Swooosh——!

A golden streak tore through the air the moment Syre shouted, heading rapidly in Julien’s direction as Julien’s expression changed and the arrow grazed his face.

But as if that wasn’t all...

Swoosh! Swoosh—!

Several fresh golden streaks ripped through the air toward him, forcing Julien to break away and retreat.

Each streak was incredibly fast, and even though Julien tried to stop his attacks using

[Step of Supression]

, he found, to his shock, that he couldn’t.

In the end, the only thing he could do was step away.

Syre took this chance to turn his body around and gather some distance between him and Julien.

"Haa... Haa..."

Drawing in several steady breaths, Syre fixed his gaze on the youthful figure before him. His expression was cold, his posture straight, and his dark cloak drifted soundlessly in the air.

Despite standing still, Syre felt a heavy pressure coming from the youth as he felt beads of sweat dripping down from the side of his face.

But before anything, he was secretly in awe.

Not because of the youth in front of him, but by Captain Albas’s ability.

’Everything went exactly as he predicted.’

From the outset, Captain Albas had warned that either he or his brother would become Julien’s target. They were to serve as bait, drawing him out while the Madhound lay in wait for the perfect moment to strike.

It was a pity that the Madhound wasn’t able to take care of Julien in one go, but it didn’t matter as a soft voice drifted into Syre’s head.

—I’ve tagged him. Whatever he does, he shouldn’t be able to escape. I’ve already sent a warning to the others to gather here.

A smirk played on Syre’s lips as he stared at Julien.

’He fell for the trap.’

***

On top of the platforms.

"...How unfortunate. It appears that Julien has fallen for the trap. It shouldn’t be long before he loses."

Hearing her brother’s words, Aoife’s lips twitched. She wanted to argue against her brother, but just barely held herself back. Not only because it was pointless, but also because she didn’t know what to say.

She was well aware of the Madhound’s impeccable hunting abilities.

He was not only an exceptionally precise archer, capable of erasing his presence from the world entirely, but also renowned for his uncanny skill in tracking anyone he managed to mark.

His story was quite famous.

The Presepe family had once been a distinguished noble house. But after one of its children caused the death of an elderly woman, who had merely spilled a drink during an ordinary dinner, it triggered a chain reaction from her presumed son, pursuing every family member across the Empire.

He killed anyone connected to them, driving the house to extinction and earning himself the fearsome title of the "Madhound of Presepe."

He was someone famous for never letting a prey go once targeted.

Aoife knew very well Julien’s abilities, and she was confident that he’d be able to beat the Madhound if it was just the two of them, but now...?

He was not only focused on one of the twins, but now that he was tagged, everyone was aware of his position.

It wouldn’t be long before they arrived.

’Damn it! Why did he choose to go by himself!’

Aoife’s hands clenched the chair’s armrests, her expression on the verge of twisting as she focused intently on the projection before her.

This duel was extremely important for her.

If Julien somehow ended up losing, it would lead to her faction taking a severe blow.

’That can’t happen!’

Cracks spidered across the armrest of her chair, her eyelid twitching as her expression hardened, growing colder with each passing second.

Such changes went unnoticed by her as a figure quietly appeared behind her, sporting a thin smile at her while looping their arms around her neck and resting their chin lightly on her shoulder.

Her presence was like that of a ghost as her long red hair flowed down, and her gaze was fixed on the projection ahead.

Nobody saw her, and nobody felt her.

It was as if...

She didn’t exist.

"See...?" She suddenly whispered into Aoife’s ear, "He’s not on the same side as us. We must get rid of him before it’s too late."

Aoife’s face twitched, and her eyes grew hazier.

In that moment, her gaze was fully focused on the Julien in the projection.

He was the only person who existed in her eyes.