Chapter 620: The Interloper (1)
Late evening.
A sudden commotion broke out in Sector U of Landa's working-class residential area.
It was as if a game of tag was underway among nearly thirty superhumans. The difference from an ordinary game of tag was that, beyond simply running, they were leaping across buildings, triggering flashes of magic, and most notably, aiming to take each other's lives.
As evidence, Wallace, a commander of the Kel Liberation Army, who was covering the rear of the fleeing party, created a fireball the size of a human head and hurled it at the twenty druids in hot pursuit.
Fwoosh!!
A fierce sound of burning air echoed as a red line was drawn across the darkness.
The druids chasing Wallace gave a slight sneer at this formidable yet straightforward attack.
It was a natural response, as that’s precisely what Wallace intended.
"Detonate."
As Wallace activated his magic, the flying mass of flames exploded midair, scattering into dozens of smaller fiery fragments that rained down upon the druids attempting to evade.
“Argh!!”
“You bastard!!”
The druids, who had barely moved to dodge the fireball, couldn’t react to the sudden change, ending up engulfed in flames, shrieking and cursing in pain.
The bright red flames clung to the druids, spreading further, and they attempted to extinguish it by casting spells of their own.
“What the...?!”
“It won’t go out! Damn it, it won’t go out!!”
“Help! Someone, hel—!”
Yet, instead of subsiding, the fire only grew, completely consuming the druids. Even with their use of natural energy!
The druids were alarmed by the unexpected situation, but this was, in fact, an inevitable outcome.
The fire Wallace had launched was specifically designed to absorb natural energy, increasing its own power. A magic formula that Oliver had devised while helping Wallace with his training just days prior, though it wasn’t particularly complex.
All it took was a slight adjustment to Wallace's signature magic, "flames with their own will rather than that of the caster," to convert its energy absorption from mana to natural energy.
From mana-absorbing flames to natural energy-absorbing flames.
Such a simple adjustment, as Wallace would soon find out.
"So you're telling me you copied my magic after just seeing it once, temporarily modifying it to absorb natural energy instead of mana, and then decided to teach it to me?”
“Yes, nothing special, really.”
“Are you insane?”
Though their communication left something to be desired, Oliver nonetheless taught the modified technique to Wallace, who, in turn, practiced it diligently.
Flames that grew stronger by feeding on natural energy were practically the druids' worst nightmare.
Proving this point, some of the druids failed to escape Wallace's fire and ended up reduced to charred husks.
“Damn it! How did he manage to conceal this kind of power?!”
One of the druids in pursuit cried out. It was a perfectly understandable reaction.
Among the druids present, several had fought Wallace before and were familiar with his capabilities. He was certainly a formidable opponent, but nothing that couldn’t be subdued with a coordinated assault.
Yet, after only a brief absence, Wallace was now using unfamiliar flames to evade them, killing their allies along the way.
Naturally, the druids were frustrated and furious.
The prey they thought they’d cornered, the rat they believed trapped, was now fighting back.
Fwoosh!!
Once again, Wallace generated a fireball and launched it at the pursuing druids.
This one was twice the size of the first. Naturally, it exploded midair, its fragments creating twice as many fiery projectiles.
Once touched, these flames spelled certain death, yet the druids, now having experienced the attack once, evaded widely under orders from their captain, Pierce, or smashed buildings to shield themselves with chunks of cement.
They quickly discerned that the flames weren’t particularly dangerous if they didn’t come into direct contact with natural energy.
The druids, after all, were not without skill.
Slash━!
“Aaargh!”
Just as they avoided Wallace’s second, all-too-predictable attack and resumed their pursuit, a sharp sound split the air, followed by a scream.
It sounded like the wail of something cut by a blade, as indeed, one of the druids had been.
Taking advantage of the moment the druids were distracted by avoiding the fireballs, Wallace had used the scattered flames as a medium to teleport, closing in to cut down the druids with a steel sword encased in flame.
The second fireball hadn’t been aimed at injuring them but rather to create an opening for Wallace to close the distance.
The druids' response was a beat too slow for such meticulousness, allowing Wallace to seize control over their positioning and timing, diving into their ranks and delivering lethal strikes.
The druid he’d cut had fire spreading from his wound, consuming him, and Wallace continued to teleport from flame to flame, slashing and burning the druids as he weaved through them.
The druids, unable to leverage their numerical advantage, could only warily guard against the flames blazing around them. Yet, even this was in vain.
No matter how sharp their reflexes, senses, or skill with magic were, tracking every flame was impossible.
And all the more so when the flames concealed a highly skilled swordsman who wielded both sword and magic with exceptional mastery.
“You bastard?”
When Wallace appeared behind a druid with small horns protruding from his head, the druid instinctively swung a fist clad in wooden gauntlets charged with natural energy, likely more durable than steel.
But Wallace disappeared in a blur, his body flickering like a mirage as he dodged the attack and slashed the druid’s throat in a single motion.
It was an effortless display of skill.
Though the flame-magic formula absorbing natural energy was Oliver’s creation, Wallace's methods of utilizing it and his swordsmanship were his own, and to a rather admirable degree.
Driven by anger at seeing another comrade fall, the druids lashed out with spears and whip-like roots to ensnare Wallace. However, he crafted a protective shield from scattered flames, dodging the attacks, before plunging into the flames again to appear at a new location, swiftly dispatching each vulnerable druid he encountered.
He was forcing the druids to disperse with his fire, crafting a favorable battleground to eliminate them one by one.
It was no wonder he had held his ground so well against the forces of the United Kingdom’s army, even with limited resources and manpower.
As the druids’ numbers dwindled from twenty to fewer than ten, a feral roar echoed.
“Grrrahhh!!”
The sound tore through the air, vibrating so powerfully that it seemed to shake the ground itself. Soon after, Pierce, his body transformed to resemble a fierce beast, leapt down toward Wallace, swinging his claws.
Ripples of shockwaves shredded the air, aiming to tear Wallace apart. However, Wallace dodged deftly, countering with a straight thrust of his flame-covered blade.
A simultaneous dodge and counter. And a flame that fed on natural energy.
Though Wallace had expected Pierce to burn as well, Pierce instead blocked the blow with his claws.
“...!!”
The flames touched his body but did not consume him.
So this was the druid who trained other druids—he must have figured out a way to resist Wallace’s magic.
With the overwhelming advantage of his flames neutralized, the towering Pierce closed in with claws and fangs. Wallace, unwilling to flee, met him with his sword.
Razor-sharp green claws infused with natural energy clashed with the fiery red blade, weaving a chaotic dance in the darkness with each swift breath.
Even more remarkable was that they managed to wield magic between each strike. Pierce, the druid, poured natural energy into animal carvings he had whittled into the shapes of bears, wolves, and lions, animating them into ferocious beasts that assailed Wallace from all directions.
In response, Wallace triggered spells using the surrounding flames as a conduit, sending up fiery explosions to incinerate the massive wooden beasts. Amid the blazing inferno, Wallace and Pierce’s sword and claws clashed repeatedly, each blow struck with lethal precision.
Every misstep risked death in this razor-thin struggle.
The deciding factor would be whose breath faltered first.
“Let’s help Pierce!”
“Charge!!”
The druids who had been watching the deadly duel between Pierce and Wallace finally cried out as they joined the fray.
Their assistance could very well backfire; the level of the fight unfolding before them was beyond most, but the druids had the skill to avoid being swept away.
Wallace, for his part, also had allies, but they were busy ferrying the druid woman Fedelm to the Sem River docks, leaving him with no backup to rely on.
With the druids closing in, each one searching for any opening, Wallace was mere moments away from being torn apart when a faint tremor rippled across the ground beneath his feet.
“Is it a spirit?”
One druid sensed the shift, his eyes widening as he realized what it meant. At that moment, the ground stirred, warping and heaving as if alive, disrupting the druids’ footing and erecting walls to shield Wallace.
This was the power of the spirit Oliver had loaned to Wallace.
An extraordinary sight: a spirit obstructing druids in their pursuit.
Yet, Wallace had no time to marvel. Rather than savor the moment, he seized the opportunity, trusting his ally’s support, to press an attack against Pierce instead of retreating.
The sudden reversal nearly cost Pierce his life; his neck was a mere instant from being severed when—
—Thwack!
A wooden rod flew through the air, embedding itself in the ground directly in front of Wallace.
Etched with spatial magic, the rod quickly activated, folding space to reveal Oliver standing inches from Wallace.
As Oliver appeared, Wallace aborted his attack, turning to escape, but Oliver anticipated the move and struck.
Though the spirit’s power blocked him at the last moment.
Thus, Oliver’s ambush narrowly missed, giving Wallace a chance to leap into the flames and disappear into the distance.
“Are you alright?”
Oliver’s voice was steady as he asked, having followed up to assist.
Pierce and the other druids could only look at him, speechless.
Their faces seemed to carry many questions, perhaps ones they wanted to shout at him, such as why he had arrived so late, but they remained silent.
After all, they had agreed to this arrangement beforehand.
The task Pierce had entrusted to Oliver was to locate Wallace hiding in Landa, and Oliver had done just that.
Though he hadn’t known Wallace’s exact location, he could predict where he’d be and when.
"True, I did agree with Wallace that he’d try to escape around this time, but there’s no major issue with that, is there?"
In other words, Oliver had fulfilled his task from the druids. Technically, he no longer needed to be here.
However, at Pierce’s request, Oliver had come this far to aid in capturing Wallace, even though his body was weak, emaciated, and bearing a severe burn on one arm.
Under such conditions, the druids couldn’t muster a single word of complaint against Oliver for his delayed arrival.
After all, he’d chosen to help despite his condition.
And he hadn’t questioned why they needed someone unsuited to this mission.
Something about the situation gave Oliver pause, though he kept his thoughts to himself. Even Oliver, usually oblivious to social nuances, could tell that voicing his suspicions might not be wise—it was too absurd to even consider. Besides, there were safeguards in place.
He looked at Pierce, whose gaze sharpened as he rallied, shouting orders for the druids to resume the chase.
Following Pierce’s command, the druids resumed their pursuit, while Pierce handed Oliver a wooden carving of a cheetah, imbued with natural energy.
“Ride this.”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, now get on. Aren’t you lagging behind?”
Taking Pierce’s words to heart, Oliver mounted the cheetah sculpture, now enlarged and animated by natural energy. With the carving’s speed far outstripping his own, he moved faster than he ever could on foot—though he did deliberately hold back a little.
“What exactly is that fire?” Pierce asked, pushing his body and the cheetah carving to their limits with natural energy.
It wasn’t curiosity so much as a demand for confirmation.
Oliver responded, “It seems to be a flame that absorbs and burns natural energy.”
“It looks that way to me too. But I can’t fathom how it’s possible.”
It was a fair question. A fire that consumed natural energy to fuel itself was far from ordinary.
Bridging natural energy with magic was an arduous feat, like merging two vastly different disciplines.
Such expertise required deep knowledge of both practices.
That was why, at the outset, the druids had been caught off guard and so many of them had died, burning away before they even knew what was happening.
“Wallace is using both natural energy and magic simultaneously. From what I know, he shouldn’t have such abilities.”
“Couldn’t he have received help from the druid you captured?”
Pierce thought for a moment, acknowledging that logically it made little sense, given that they hadn’t actually “captured” the druid. But he quickly shook his head.
“No, that’s not possible.”
Pierce didn’t mean that she wouldn’t help—only that she wouldn’t have the skill to do so.
The female druid Fedelm was skilled with the World Tree, a talent Pierce was well aware of. Speaking with conviction, he continued.
“It’s certain that someone else taught him. There’s no way he could have discovered the power of nature on his own. We need to capture him and find out where he learned it.”
“Do you think we can catch him?”
Oliver asked, not objecting but rather raising a question.
Though it could have been taken the wrong way, it was a valid concern.
After sustaining such heavy losses, and with the gap between them widening, Wallace was in an excellent position to escape.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve prepared for it.”
“Prepared?”
“As soon as I learned the time and location of his escape, I secretly ordered others to lie in wait.”
This was unexpected. That Pierce had hidden additional forces beyond the known entourage was news indeed.
Reading Oliver’s thoughts, Pierce explained, “It’s a precaution in case of unforeseen circumstances. Wallace and his subordinates are headed for the dock at the Sem River, where we already have an ambush set up. Isn’t that fortunate?”
Oliver looked back at him and replied genuinely, “Yes, that’s fortunate.”
“Indeed...”
Pierce nodded, and Oliver agreed, his response sincere, for he too had taken the liberty of calling for additional assistance.
...
Pierce’s words were no exaggeration.
Arriving at the massive U-District docks, they found an intense battle already underway.
Druids and a large number of mercenaries encircled the docks, trying to contain Wallace and his allies as they fought back. Those pursuing from behind quickly joined in.
Amusingly, from a distance, it looked as if Wallace was protecting the druid woman, Fedelm, whom they claimed he had abducted, when in fact, it seemed more like the druids were attempting to capture her.
Even Oliver, usually so oblivious, noticed this strange spectacle. It seemed peculiar that they would involve him just to show him this scene.
There was a lingering suspicion, though he hoped it wasn’t the case. That would be... rather disappointing, wouldn’t it?
“It looks like he’s finally reaching his limit.”
Pierce remarked as Wallace grew increasingly cornered.
Thanks to his fire, which fed on natural energy, Wallace had held his ground impressively. But as the druids began drawing water from the Sem River to douse the flames, his strength waned.
“Let’s join in. I’ll handle Wallace’s resistance. Do you have any issues with that?”
“Wait a moment.”
Oliver hesitated at Pierce’s suggestion, and Pierce raised his brows in question.
“Is there an issue?”
“Do you feel... something strange?”
Oliver replied, his gaze fixed on the Sem River coursing through Landa.
Pierce instinctively followed Oliver’s gaze to the river, sensing the unusual energy in the air.
“Everyone—”
—Boom!!
Before Pierce could shout, the river surface swelled, erupting with a deafening roar, drowning out his voice.
Something massive surged up from beneath the water, sending an immense column of murky, brownish water skyward, drenching the surroundings in a rain of contaminated droplets.
Sssssssssshhh—
The stench was overwhelming, and from the center of that smell, someone called out to Oliver.
It was Captain Hook of the Wendy and none other than Ewan, whom Oliver had accidentally left behind in Bin City.
“Why did you call us here?!”
“You wretch!!!”