Volume 7 Chapter 33-2 Confidence Has A Basis
Zaif barely sidestepped, slipping his head just enough to avoid Randy's jab. But as Randy pulled back his right hand, Zaif took a large sidestep to put some space between them.
Both reset their stances. Randy cracked a grin and gave a slow nod.
"I see... I see."
Zaif frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What?"
"Somehow, I think... I don't quite get how this works."
Randy's smile turned sharp, almost cruel. Zaif slowly swung his sword, slicing the air and earth with a teasing smirk.
"Your sloppy strikes won't land on me, you know?"
Zaif matched that smile, cold and mocking. "No more praise from me, even if you're sarcastic."
"Too bad. I'm the kind of guy who grows stronger with 'what the hell.'"
Randy's stance faded like mist.
"I'm stronger now."
In a blink, Randy reappeared, sharper, faster — not the same as before. But Zaif, calm as ever, conjured several razor-thin wind blades floating just ahead, blocking Randy's straight charge.
Randy jabbed through the air, swatting the wind blades away. None would reach Zaif.
Still, Randy's fists moved faster than before — flurries of punches launched wildly.
Zaif dodged every one — but with each round, Randy's fists barely grazed his body.
Before, Zaif had dodged perfectly; this time was different.
Zaif's eyes darkened, disgust showing as he widened his stance.
"You're almost hitting now."
He sneered. "Kid..."
Randy rolled his shoulders, flashing a wicked grin.
"And I can still go harder."
He wasn't fighting full force yet. The warm-up was done — now the real fight began.
Why had Randy held back until now? Two reasons.
First: despite his words, he was curious.
The fact that Zaif was stepping forward, undeterred by the vast difference in their strength, showed one thing clearly: he believed that with the magic sword in his hands, victory was within reach. Randy's eyes sharpened with interest—this magic sword was no ordinary weapon; it promised to close the gap between their power.
He needed to uncover exactly what kind of power this sword held.
Focused and steady, Randy settled into watchful silence. Though the details were still blurry at first, slowly, a clear picture began to form in his mind of the sword's true nature.
(Somehow... I think I'm starting to grasp how this magic sword really works.)
Through the clash of steel and bursts of power, Randy pieced together the secret: Zaif's magic sword, known as Curseblade, could release spells instantly—no pause, no ritual. Whether it was a fiery explosion, a sharp gust slicing through the air, or a swift dodge, the magic flowed out without the usual buildup or hesitation.
There was no familiar rhythm of casting magic, no slow gathering of energy that sorcerers usually feel.
(Is this like Ellie's Multiple Chanting? It's eerily similar.)
Randy's memory flicked to Ellie's technique—Multiple Chanting. Normally, it was a method to build strength by layering the same magic spell repeatedly, like raising a power to an exponent. But Ellie had explained something deeper: the core of that power was in storing the magic formula inside herself, ready to release on command.
Once you mastered the stored magic from Multiple Chanting, you could unleash a variety of spells instantly—just like Ellie.
Randy suspected Zaif was pulling off something only those with genius-level minds like Ellie and Liz could manage—using this magic sword to cheat the normal rules of sorcery.
(It's a sword that holds spells... and also carves spells...)
The glowing runes drifting along the blade's edge weren't just decoration—they were runic infusions, magic engravings powering the sword. Zaif's blade didn't just cut flesh and bone; it sliced through air and earth itself, etching magic into the space around it.
Exactly as Randy had guessed, Zaif's Curseblade could inscribe runic magic on its steel and unleash spells instantly. The sword could hold three spells at once, but in the heat of battle, Zaif could rewrite those spells on the fly—if his mind was quick enough to keep up.
On top of that, the sword could write sorcery not only on itself but also on the battlefield, objects, and even people.
It was equipped with a self-evolving mechanism, learning and optimizing Zaif's combat style with each strike. In short, this was no ordinary weapon—it was a finely tuned machine of magic and precision.
Zaif's fighting style depended on reading his opponent's moves, planting magic traps, and controlling the flow of battle. But fundamentally, his style was a mismatch against brute force fighters like Randy.
If Zaif charged headlong, he would be smashed by raw power and caught in a storm of attacks.
One wrong step and those magic traps would become his downfall.
And yet, Zaif had one secret spell woven deep into Curseblade that let him dodge Randy's strikes again and again.
This was the key to Zaif's bold words during their last mock battle: "Since I couldn't kill you with that last strike──"
It was the sorcery reaction field, known as the ether reflex.
By wrapping a thin veil of magical energy around his body, Zaif could sense anything coming toward him—whether it was a blade or a punch.
This magical field triggered instant reflexes, forcing his body to move before his mind even registered the attack.
Instead of thinking, Zaif's muscles reacted on their own, making him nearly impossible to hit.
It was Zaif's ultimate magic, pulling every ounce of his skill and speed to the limit.
Coincidentally, Ellie's ability to sense Randy's movements and hugs worked on the exact same principle.
Whether Randy understood this magic? Of course not.
For now, all he could do was imagine that Zaif was somehow boosting his reaction speed with magic—an almost unfair advantage in their battle.
Still trusting that gut feeling, Randy had already faced life-or-death fights before. So, with steady calm, he smiled—and Zaif snorted, annoyed by the quiet confidence.
"Yeah, your attack looks like it might land... but it hasn't—"
"Are you dumb? I told you to step it up!"
Zaif snapped back. Randy just smirked and moved in again.
His right fist sliced past, grazing Zaif's cheek.
"Ugh—"
Zaif's eyes widened, brow tightening—he hadn't dodged even the first strike.
But Randy didn't stop there.
His returning left punch clipped the other cheek this time.
Thin lines of blood trickled down both sides of Zaif's face, slow but clear.
Just scratches—but seeing his own skin torn made Zaif's face go pale as ash.
Meanwhile, Randy's focus stayed sharp.
"Nothing coming, huh—"
He was sensing something near him.
Part of why he hadn't gone full force from the start was because the watchers had shown up as soon as they began. Randy had thought maybe if Zaif got in trouble... but the watchers stayed still, not moving.
"Where do you think you're looking?" Zaif snarled, launching a sharp stab forward.
Randy bent his knees, twisting his weapon's tip high, and thrust a fist into Zaif's belly.
Zaif twisted away but couldn't dodge fully.
Randy's left fist dug into Zaif's side.
"Guh—"
Just a shallow hit, but the shock shot through Zaif's whole body, forcing him back several steps. His voice was low and harsh.
"You monster—"
His weapon's tip traced patterns through the air and earth.
Randy pressed the attack, closing the gap.
Each step forward brought explosions that blurred his sight, and earthen spears scraped his cheek.
Still, Randy did not falter.
He stepped forward again—another spear shot out.
Zaif's magic seemed to hit perfectly—but Randy smashed it with a fist.
"Tch—"
Even the perfectly timed stone spear broke under Randy's punch.
Zaif's face twisted with frustration as he scattered flashes of light from his sword.
But Randy didn't slow—he charged straight into the trap's heart.
This time, no explosions.
Stone spears and slicing wind blades lurked in shadow.
But Randy crushed every one of them the instant they appeared.
A flawless ambush, no wasted time, not a single flicker of magic left untouched.
All destroyed.
Breaking through the impossible, Randy closed in on Zaif once again.
"Damn—"
Zaif swung wildly.
The blade aimed low, toward Randy's groin.
Randy pulled the sword close and dropped his body as he stepped in.
A dodge and attack in one move.
Completely within Randy's skill.
"Oh no—"
Zaif realized too late.
Randy's left straight punch slammed into his face.
Zaif's body flew backward, hurtling through the air.
Character Notes:
• Zaif - A former Imperial Army soldier known as the [Black Wolf]. He has a sadistic personality and is described as a troublemaker who tortured prisoners and hurt training partners. He is Randy's opponent in the mock battle.
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