(Re:Zero) Warlock of Fascination Chapter 13: Walter’s Training

Chapter 13: Walter’s Training

“Again!” Walter bellowed at the top of his lungs—holding his hand above his head as the atmosphere around him crackled with chilling ferocity. “El Huma!” 

A hailstorm of icicle shards crepitated to life around the butler’s forearm, splitting the air as they raced towards Castor, each aimed at varying heights to make them exponentially harder to predict.

I’ve seen this strategy before, haven’t I? 

The tactic reminded him of how Elsa threw her knives at Reinhard in a similar manner back at the Loot House, only to be effortlessly deflected. Of course, Castor was no Reinhard, not even close.

Furthermore, he wasn’t using his Sword at the moment—yes, he could still accurately read the trajectory of all the projectiles with Mark of the Scribe. However, he didn’t have access to Sword’s freak fighting instincts that could protect him from Elsa’s blade, albeit briefly, with no prior combat experience or training.

Howbeit, unlike then, this wasn’t a life or death battle. This was just sparring. As intense as it was, he trusted Walter enough to know that the Librarian wouldn’t throw anything at a greenhorn like him that would endanger his life.

At the very least, he’s not going to kill me—I hope. I suppose it all depends on whether he’s mad or not about me running my mouth while he was telling his story, and if the answer’s yes, I should just pray that he isn’t too mad. 

Castor mimicked Walter’s stance, his newfound Fire Spirit—Lily, primed and ready to protect her master.

Then again. He’s a practitioner of Water Magic, which means he’s capable of healing me. It wouldn’t be outlandish to assume he’s willing to let the ice shards pierce through me since he can fix me up afterwards. 

If it really came down to it, he could always use his Yang Magic like a barbarian at the last second and allow it to simply run wild through his body to boost his defense like he had done reflexively against the Bowel Hunter.

“El Goa!” The air above them began to sizzle, suspended droplets of fire manifesting out of thin air and hovering on standby—waiting for Castor’s command to let-loose and rain down hell on everything below.

My command over Magic isn’t honed enough to match Walter in a head-on collision, but if I can hit his projectiles from up above then I should have a better chance at crushing them!

A normal Fire Mage with Castor’s experience level wouldn’t even be able to dream about successfully hitting Walter’s darting ice projectiles. However, Castor wasn’t a normal Fire Mage. His Fire Magic was being channeled through Spiritual Arts—or more precisely, through Lily. A living manifestation of Mana in the form of a ball.

In the most literal sense possible, she was a natural when it came to controlling it, and their chances of deflecting Walter’s attack soared when considering Mark of the Scribe’s ability to read the flight path of the butler’s ice shards.

Now! 

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! 

One after the other, the tightly compressed wisps of fire rushed downwards, a nervous sweat building up on the surface of his skin. At the same time, he internally prayed that he and Lily had coordinated their defense accurately. He really wasn’t interested in finding out what ice tearing through one’s flesh felt like.

“Not bad.” Walter gave him a satisfied nod, handing out practically the highest level of praise a grizzled old man like him was willing to offer.

Phew! 

Castor breathed a deeply relieved sigh, wiping the perspiration off his brow as he watched the bright-blue particles of shattered ice gracefully fall onto the garden’s lush grassy canvas. 

“I don’t see what you’re acting so placid for? I fail to recall saying you were done.” Walter met Castor with a sharp, dissatisfied glare. “A battle is never over until it’s over. It’d do you well to remember that, young man.” 

“Eh?” He did a double-take.

“Ul Dona!” Walter called out, his hand raised once more.

Ul Dona was an Earth spell that rose thick walls of sediment around the caster in the shape of a dome in order to defend them from oncoming attacks. Still, Walter, being the resourceful war veteran that he was—opted to use it in a reversed fashion.

Instead, he was using it to entrap Castor.

“Don’t be fooled. This isn’t the real test. It’s a setup for the following attack. He’s trying to kill your balance.” 

You’re still here? I thought you only appeared when I’m drunk? 

“I’m always here. Idiot. Now shut up and focus.” 

Sheesh. You don’t have to be so rude about it, Swordstor. 

“Swordstor?” 

Duh. Castor + Sword = Swordstor. It’s basic math. 

The first thing he needed to do was break the dome. Waiting wasn’t an option since it’d make him a sitting duck to a simple earthen spike spell that’d have him skewered like a kebab. He needed to devise a plan of action—preferably with haste.

I might as well give it a try; it’s not like I have any other options. As a matter of fact, this is probably what he was trying to get me to do all along. Cunning old fox. 

He flexed his right hand, reaching for the scabbard attached to his waist by a belt Walter had given him and unsheathing the blade. Even though the Librarian wasn’t in a position to directly tutor Castor on Yang Magic like he had done for his Fire Magic, there was one key concept that he could still explain, one that would allow him to somewhat put his Yang to proper use.

Magic Enhancement.

Of course, he wouldn’t be able to replicate anything like the Earth and Water enhancements installed into the Astrea training grounds to serve as a self-repair system. But something as simple as imbuing Yang Magic into his blade? That was definitely a feat he could achieve on the go.

It would only raise the sword's basic defensive and cutting power, but that was all he needed at the moment—using his Fire Magic while in the dome was just too risky. Failing would cause the flames to spread throughout the construct and cook him alive instead of freeing him.

Think of the glintstone. Too much and it’ll break. Too little and the cutting power won’t be strong enough to break this dome. 

His pupils flashed gold, a deep, bass-like reverberation beginning to emanate from the blade as Yang Magic started to seep into it through the pores on Castor’s palm.

He tightened his grip on the sword’s handle, readying his strike.

Just like Walter taught you. Plant your feet. Shift your body. Twist your hips. And let it rip! 

Briefly, Walter noticed a bright, gilded light outline the mid-section of the dome he had constructed—the chunks of earth that had been used to construct it being torn to pieces, revealing Castor’s figure as his sword now coursed with dense Yang.

It’s as I thought, young Castor’s talents also excel in the sword. Even if he’s clearly a prime talent as a Mage, wouldn’t it be a waste not to explore his martial ability? Maybe if he can get placed into a special role like Sir Felix Argyle, staying close with the Young Lord while pursuing both paths will remain a possibility. 

He couldn’t help but smirk, preparing his follow-up attack just as Castor had predicted.

If I remember correctly, Lord Mathers occupies the Red, Green, and Yellow titles while Sir Argyle occupies Blue. Gold and Black have still not been taken, and with his absurdly evident potential, acquiring the Gold title should be well within reach. 

The only problem was that Castor would have to directly get involved with Roswaal L. Mathers, the current Head Court Mage of Lugunica, and someone whom Walter didn’t have a very good feeling about, even if it was all superstition. There was a huge difference between the gut instinct of a random person and an accomplished war veteran. 

Furthermore, Walter had been present for Roswaal’s ascension to the position of Head Court Mage during the final stint of his career as a Court Mage. And even then, he had always believed something was amiss with the man.

Let’s not overthink this Walter. As long as I drive home the notion that he and the Young Lord are close, even Lord Mathers will need to think twice about trying anything. 

Even the strongest Mage in the Kingdom could not topple the mountain that was Od Lagna’s favorite. 

“Fura!” 

Whoosh! Whoosh! 

Compact slashes of virulent wind cascaded out of Walter’s palm—the atmosphere trembling as they darted towards Castor. 

Immediately, Castor threw away the concept of using Goa. Not only would the wind blow the flames right back at him, but the oxygen would increase the strength of the returning fire.

He wasn’t adept enough with his Yang Magic to execute a focused movement technique, and his raw speed certainly wasn’t enough to evade the crescents of wind—leaving him with no choice other than to defend.

Here’s to hoping House Juukulius didn’t skimp out on their craftsmanship! Bear with me sword! 

Gradually, he increased the amount of Yang his blade was receiving, holding it up horizontally and putting his free hand on the rear-facing side of the blade. His lips quivering a little from the fairly intimidating sight of Walter’s Fura shooting towards him.

“Toughen up. We faced Elsa just fine didn’t we? You have no reason to be getting jittery from a mere sparring session.” 

That doesn’t count! I was drunk! 

Clang! Clang! 

The slashes clashed against Castor’s sword, the impact reverberating through his muscles and bones as his entire body began to shake and falter—his feet dragging themselves dozens of feet through the mud with each Fura that hit him.

Clang! Clang! Clang! 

Hit after hit, Castor endured, using every last fibre of strength to remain upright and hold his arming sword in place. Despite Walter’s spell’s simplicity, his experience and practice with it made it exceedingly more lethal and difficult to handle.

And honestly speaking, the chances that Walter was holding back were astronomically high. 

I survived! 

“Huff! Huff! Huff!” Castor almost hesitated to lower his blade, unsure whether Walter was planning on continuing his onslaught. His breathing was strained and labored. Even though his Mana reserves still had plenty of life left in them, the Librarian had pushed his physical stamina to the absolute brink.

“Now, we’re finished. Dinner’s being prepared by Carol as we speak, and she isn’t the type to humor people who keep her waiting.” 

Thank God. 

Lily hovered before him, clearly worried about her master’s well-being. 

“Relax, I’m fine, just… exhausted.” He reassured her, taking a moment to catch his breath and sheathing his blade. “You can go back to the stone if you want. I’m not sure if my Mana can actually keep you active around the clock. But you can take a rest every now and then, especially when I’m not fighting.” 

Lily shook from side to side. 

Heh, I guess that’s a no. 

Castor had hoped to also learn about Magic Circles, one of the more advanced mediums for Magic, but that wasn’t going to be a possibility until he built a rock-solid foundation for his Yang Magic. Something Walter wasn’t capable of giving him, meaning he’d need to put that prospect on the back burner until he had a teacher who could.

In the meantime, he was going to meet with more of House Astrea’s residents for dinner. 

How exciting.