Vol 3. Chapter 48: Leave Everything to Me

“So that’s it—this suit of armor is your Spirit Soul?” Kantesius looked down from on high, contempt in his gaze as he peered at Vinny. “Stuffing armor into a Spirit Soul and fusing the two—decent idea. Clever design. But judging by the look, it’s more like a mass-produced Spirit Soul. Hardly a premium piece, is it?”

As expected of Marsmo’s ancient king: even without having seen [Armor Fortress], he could still tell [Armor Fortress] required very low magical aptitude.

“A Spirit Soul that only makes you better at getting beaten—what use is that?” Revived yet again, Kantesius snatched up that ludicrously heavy spiked mace and brought it down toward Vinny.

Even though Vinny’s [Armor Fortress] had undergone multiple reinforcements, he still didn’t dare take that terrifyingly heavy, specially made spiked mace head-on.

It wasn’t a question of whether he could take it. After [Armor Fortress] gained the lightening trait, the armor’s weight had dropped drastically. Why insist on eating a hit instead of using the lightening to slip the blow?

Kantesius also noticed how nimbly Vinny evaded. Estimating that this seemingly sealed, large-coverage plate armor wasn’t that heavy after all, he concluded that, accordingly, its protection couldn’t be that great either.

Vinny felt awful. The stamina he’d burned carrying Isatia for so long had never gotten a chance to recover, and then he’d fought Kantesius for this long. The other side had revived several times and kept attacking without pause—he was already at the end of his rope.

But Vinny didn’t fall into a trap because of it—namely, trying to kill Kantesius just to win a brief breather and drag things out.

Seeing how the more Kantesius revived, the faster he revived, Vinny felt the more he killed, the quicker the revivals would get—and the faster he’d lose.

The more dire the moment, the clearer Vinny’s head became. From start to finish he hadn’t forgotten he was buying time for Isatia—not fighting to the death with the big pig-headed slab of meat before him.

Buying time was the main quest.

Thus, after using [Annihilating Heavy Stomp] yet again to mash Kantesius into meat paste—and watching him revive again—every one of Vinny’s spells slid into cooldown buffers.

At that point he had no choice but to slug it out in close quarters with Kantesius.

If Vinny were still relatively fresh, fine—he could trade a few passes. But now his stamina was wrung dry. And though Kantesius, as King of Marsmo, might lag Vinny in magic by a generation gap, his real-combat experience left Vinny in the dust.

And by now Vinny had spotted a massive problem.

Kantesius hadn’t used his own Spirit Soul.

He’d simply been swinging that spiked mace and relying on the secret realm’s revival mechanic to fight him. Aside from that outdated earth spell at the very start, never mind a Spirit Soul—he hadn’t really cast magic at all since.

Maybe in the ancient era, spellcasting had hefty wind-ups and complexity and needed incantation. But what about a Spirit Soul? After all this time, why hadn’t Kantesius activated a Spirit Soul?

Was the guy deliberately holding back against him, taking his measure with that willful infinite-revival mechanic? Or did he simply think victory was assured and saw no need to use his Spirit Soul?

Vinny suddenly felt Kantesius was using his own capricious infinite revival to probe for Vinny’s trump cards. And now, the spells he knew were basically all spent.

“Outsider, I must admit—your magical talent truly is formidable. Or perhaps your magical research is astonishing. Had Marsmo not returned to the realms of [Eternity] and [Continuance], meeting you on the field would likely have cost us dearly.” Kantesius offered his appraisal.

“Pity it’s too late. Now both this king and Marsmo are under Divine Authority’s favor—eternal and everlasting. This king already sits upon a god’s throne. So, do you think you can deicide?”

“You dare lift a weapon at a god. Do you know the consequence?”

“I think you’ve got a screw loose.” Using the reach of a long weapon, Vinny turned and thrust. As the point sank in, it felt like the weapon plunged into a quagmire—he had to work to pull it back out.

This guy’s muscle was way too thick!

Kantesius ignored the wounds pouring blood, hefted the spiked mace, and swung it down at Vinny’s head.

Vinny lifted his spear to block overhead. A shrill metallic scream rang out. His arms went numb to the point of no sensation, as if they were gone. At the same time his legs sank; Kantesius hammered him into the ground like a nail.

Monstrous strength!

Even Frostfang’s shaft bent under the pressure, a slight curve forced into it.

Gritting his teeth, Vinny thought:

No—slugging it out with this guy in close quarters won’t work!

But every spell he had that could injure Kantesius was now in cooldown.

Only one move remained.

And at this point, he had no other choice. Seeing the mocking eyes behind that mask, Vinny thought:

The big pig head thinks he’s got this in the bag and has started torturing his prey. He’s not in a hurry to use full strength—he’s using half, just enough to pin me, let me struggle but fail to break free, watch the spiked mace draw closer and closer, and finally crush me.

Just as Kantesius got bored and was about to bring the spiked mace straight down on Vinny, Vinny’s eyes hardened. Powerful frost erupted along the spear blade. A twin-clawed frost-snow wyrm coiled up the shaft, its crystal wings wrapping Kantesius within.

After Vinny stepped into the Magus rank, the crystal wyrm generated by [Icefang’s Roar] was big as several wagons side by side. It bit Kantesius’s head and hauled him into the air, wheeling in a spiral with a thunder of dragon song, then plunged to the ground, deep-freezing Kantesius together with the floor.

“Not bad, despicable outsider. A beautiful spell—this king must praise you for it.” As Kantesius tore free of the deep freeze, he found no one before him.

The entire secret chamber now held only him, talking to himself.

So—while he was frozen, the prey ran?

Staring at a chamber frozen three feet thick, white with frost shards and cocoons and jutting ice crags, Kantesius clenched his fists and grinned, then swaggered out unconcerned.

A little cat-and-mouse could be fun.

“Huff—huff!” Elsewhere, Vinny bolted out of the chamber with Isatia in his arms, sprinting down an unknown passage somewhere in the Marsmo royal palace.

“How is it, Isatia—how much left?” After running a stretch, Vinny absolutely couldn’t run anymore. He set Isatia down and slumped, asking between breaths.

“You’ve secured extremely precious time.” Isatia never lifted her eyes from the parchments she’d brought out; not a glance at bedraggled Vinny.

She knew words were useless now. The only way to help them both was to rush her construction degree for the Marsmo royal palace.

Same as before—once she was sure Vinny wasn’t in mortal danger, Isatia read the parchments ten lines a glance.

Letting worry split her attention was foolish—it would only waste the time Vinny had fought to win.

Vinny panted hard. He knew Isatia was highly rational and understood what mattered most right now.

To lighten the burden, he dismissed [Armor Fortress]. His Academy uniform was soaked through with sweat; his hair stuck together; clothing torn to rags; cuts and gashes everywhere—he looked utterly wrecked.

Obviously, this had been another hop back and forth on the edge of life and death, and he was at his limit.

The only relief: since he’d stepped into Magus, he still had plenty of mana left. But he’d run every spell he had—everything was in cooldown buffers.

“Someone’s coming.” Before he could catch his breath, Isatia’s calm voice sounded.

Vinny’s head snapped up. Listening closely—yes. Urgent footsteps, closing fast, seemingly from all sides.

Royal Guards on palace patrol. They knew there were intruders—and they had their exact position.

Vinny didn’t doubt it. Despite bones rattled from earlier slams and a body wrung dry, he gritted his teeth, scooped up Isatia, and ran.

He scarcely had time to breathe. He was burning his life.

Isatia took it all in, silent.

‘[Virtue +60].’

‘[Current Virtue: 2774].’

Vinny didn’t even notice the [Virtue] change. He couldn’t even trigger a reflex curse. That alone showed how far past the edge he was.

As he ran, sweat flew, soaking into Isatia’s hair and clothes.

Isatia didn’t notice—she was fully absorbed in the parchment roll. Soon, she tossed another aside.

“Eliminate the intruders!” Turning a corner, they collided with two Royal Guards in golden armor. The guards raised weapons and rushed Vinny.

Vinny armed [Armor Fortress] in an instant, leapt, and stamped down hard.

[Annihilating Heavy Stomp]

The two guards were blasted up and apart, shattered into several pieces.

Vinny dismissed [Armor Fortress] at once and sprinted on, though he had no idea where he was even trying to go.

His heart and lungs burned. His vision blurred worse and worse. A leaden weight flowed up from his legs through his whole body. His thoughts dulled. His eyelids fought to close. If he tripped and fell, he knew he might never get back up.

But he knew he had to keep going—even if he had to bite through his tongue to stay awake.

Two more guards blocked the way. Vinny answered with magic.

[Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame] roared out; the two guards were blasted into a storm of burning ice fragments.

All along this route, Vinny kept killing with magic. But for some reason the pursuers multiplied, footsteps thickening and surging.

Only then did Vinny notice: the guards he killed revived in less than a second. No matter how wretched their deaths—even if reduced to a heap of ice shards—they rose and chased him again.

Just as he’d guessed, some law governed this deeply buried secret realm. These guards were trapped forever in a nightmare called [Eternity]. Like their king, they had become undying.

Call it favor if you like—but it was more like torment.

A bright light abruptly appeared in the sunless underground palace. Body feather-light, thoughts floating as if with wings, Vinny sprinted toward it without thinking.

His legs kept moving, kept moving—but he couldn’t feel them. It was like he’d slipped into a state where no one else existed in the world, and neither did he.

Thud! He didn’t know how long he’d run. He only knew he’d seen the light, reached it, then—thud—his vision lurched, and he crashed to the ground. Isatia tumbled not far from him.

Flat on his back, Vinny panted. His face had gone purple. His limbs were so limp he couldn’t even feel them. His consciousness ebbed away.

“Who... who turned... off the light?” Vinny slurred, muddle-headed. The overexertion blackened his vision—even beneath a glaring lamp.

In Isatia’s sight, as soon as Vinny fell, golden-armored guards poured in from all sides and ringed them round, packed tight.

“Your light is indeed about to be put out.” At that moment, Kantesius strolled to the front of the crowd at an idle pace. Without a single order, he brought his spiked mace down and pulped the guards in his way, then walked through.

The revived guards followed behind him, gazing upon him with awe.

Isatia looked around and realized they’d come to a very spacious ground—apparently an arena built within the Marsmo royal palace, spectator seats on all sides, railings in the middle, and the floor below already crammed with guards.

It seemed every guard in the royal city had been notified and rushed here to surround them, leaving no chance of escape.

Isatia released the parchments and tightened her fingers slightly around the eagle-talon gem.

She knew—the decisive moment had come.

There was too much in the royal palace archives. Even she couldn’t finish in a short span. Clearly, they were out of time.

Now there was only one choice.

The eagle-talon gem unraveled into strands of violet radiance and flowed into Isatia’s body.

She closed her eyes. A moment later, she opened them again—she’d regained motor control and rose to her feet.

But she didn’t face the enemy at once. She went to Vinny, crouched, set his nearly foam-mouthed head on her black-stockinged lap, took a red potion from the crown pendant, twisted off the cap, lifted his jaw, and gently poured the liquid between his lips.

The encircling Royal Guards didn’t dare take a single step without Kantesius’s order.

As for Kantesius, he watched the scene with great interest—as if curious about everything on Isatia, especially that noble, otherworldly bearing.

So he had no intention of stopping her.

Would a king who’d ascended to godhood by merit fear mortals doing him harm?

When Vinny’s color looked a shade better, Isatia set him lightly down, patted his shoulder, and bent to whisper at his ear.

“You’ve done enough. From here on—leave everything to me.”