Chương 8: A Grossly Overqualified Newbie

The destruction of the beast was so absolute that for a moment the Archer simply stared at the drifting red mist as though their mind refused to accept what their eyes had just witnessed. Only the lingering haze and the metallic scent of blood in the air convinced them that the wolf had ever existed at all. More shocking than the result itself, however, was the spell that had produced it. The name of the spell had been burned into the Archer's memory with perfect clarity, and they knew the exact one.

They also knew that simply wasn't what that spell did. They sprinted the short distance toward her.

"Hey—are you all right?" The question was foolish the moment it left their mouth. Gloria stood perfectly composed, her expression carrying only the mildest trace of disappointment, as though the entire exchange had been mildly underwhelming rather than life-threatening.

"I am quite well…" she answered.

"Though I do appreciate the concern. I lack the refined tracking senses of your class, so I shall leave any further detection in your capable hands. My own vision is—""Can you please tell me what magic you used just now?" The interruption came out of the blue. Gloria blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity, then recovered with a small tilt of her head.

"It is a rather simple magic called Crusix. Why do you ask?" The Archer actually recoiled half a step, as though the confirmation itself had struck them.

"So I did not mishear it…"

"I assume you did not." Gloria replied quickly.

"But if you have further questions, I suggest we begin moving again. The commotion we have caused will not go unnoticed, and if the rumors you shared about those two adventurers hold any truth, then they will already be making their way toward us." She started walking without waiting for agreement. The Archer hurried after her, falling into step at her side with unusual urgency.

"Wait. I know why I am asking you this. That particular spell is well known to me." Gloria's inner voice gave a quiet, dismissive huff.

'Pfff. Of course it is. It is one of the most basic attack spells in existence.' Outwardly she only raised an eyebrow.

"And what is your point?" The Archer's voice dropped lower.

"Crusix is a first-grade basic spell. It is taught to civilians. People use it to cut bread, to trim cloth, to slice paper. That is the absolute limit of what it is meant to do. How in the world did you turn something so harmless into… that?" Gloria regarded the Archer with mild surprise.

"I am aware you are not a mage, yet I must assume you possess at least a basic understanding of how spells are formed?" The Archer gave a single nod. Gloria continued without pause, her tone remaining instructional.

"Then the answer is simple. I altered the blueprint of the spell itself so that it would be granted greater power, greater speed, and a higher number of cuts." The Archer stayed close at her side, their voice rising.

"But how are you able to do that? Is it accomplished by repeating the same spell many times over, or do you carry some manner of enchantment woven into that outfit of yours?" Gloria was genuinely taken aback by the nature of the questions. For an adventurer of apparent experience to ask something so fundamental felt almost absurd. Still, she answered, lifting a hand and tracing the same small circle in the air once more for demonstration.

"Obviously not. While I do naturally pour additional mana into the circle because of my level, the true heart of the technique lies in the speed with which one fills the cuts, the thickness of each line that is painted, and the number of cuts one chooses to place within the pattern. It is, if I must say so myself, a rather basic spell to master once the principles are understood." The effect of her words upon the Archer was immediate and dramatic.

They came to a complete stop in the middle of the tunnel, the hooded figure staring at the fading remnants of the circle as though they had just witnessed something sacred. When they finally spoke, their voice trembled with open, almost childlike awe.

"A magical circle… I thought they were only a myth. I cannot believe I am seeing one with my own eyes…" Gloria's brow furrowed ever so slightly. The intensity of the reaction was far beyond anything she had expected.

"Tell me, Archer, what is the meaning of such a reaction?" The Archer turned toward her fully now.

"How can you even ask me that? I myself believe this is a rather tame reaction! Magical circles are legendary, almost mythological in their rarity. Most people do not even believe they exist anymore, simply because so few have ever witnessed one with their own eyes. Only the greatest of mages or the Named among adventurers have ever been granted the privilege of learning them!" Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

After saying all of that, the adventurer seemed to realize they had gotten a bit too worked up, and lowered their voice.

"Ehm, it is something I have dreamed of studying one day, though I have always known it lies far beyond my reach for the time being. So how is it that you know such a thing? Are you someone of great standing who has chosen to walk under a disguise? Why lower yourself to the appearance of a simple Bronze-ranked adventurer?" The flood of information left Gloria frozen in place, unable to speak for several seconds.

'What…? What do you mean by that? Magical circles are the most basic foundation of casting. I cannot even imagine forming a spell without one. Wait… can you?' The shock was strong enough that a faint trace of it slipped past her usual composure and touched her expression.

"I am flattered by the implication, yet I must inquire about something first. How, if not through the use of circles, does one cast magic to your knowledge?" The Archer seemed to take the question as some form of strange test. They raised a hand without hesitation, and a steady flame blossomed to life above their palm, though it was quite small. Yet even such a small act made Gloria distrust her own sight, her eyes widening before she could stop herself.

'What?!' The Archer continued as though nothing unusual had occurred.

"Magic is largely considered an art, limited primarily by the depth of one's mana reserves and by the strength of one's imagination. If a particular effect is repeated often enough, the mind learns to recognize it, and giving the spell a name helps lock the necessary thoughts into place. That is why I was able to recognize the name of the spell you used earlier."

They looked toward Gloria as though expecting either confirmation or some greater insight, yet everything they had just described was completely foreign to her. In the world she had known, magic had never been treated as pure art. She had always thought of magic as something closer to geometry and craftsmanship than raw beauty. You drew your circles with precise, measured strokes, connected every line in the proper order and built the pattern step by step like solving an intricate puzzle.

The entire system had felt structured, scientific, and for some players rather tedious. To simply will something into existence through pure imagination struck her as absurdly broken, and as a kind of power that should have been impossible without some catastrophic drawback. And yet the drawback was already becoming clear. The spells these people cast were weaker, limited by whatever their minds could clearly envision.

The fundamental nature of magic itself had changed, and the realization left her feeling more unsettled than happy. She knew that the world had changed, and quite drastically so, but she could have never imagined that the very rules of nature would as well.

"Are you yourself able to cast Crusix?" Gloria asked.

"Easily enough, though it will be nowhere near as powerful as the version you just unleashed." They were preparing to demonstrate, yet the demonstration never came. A sharp whistling cut through the air behind them, the sound of something long and slender slicing the wind at a great speed. Both adventurers spun at once, only to see a thin-bladed sword flying straight toward them, on a line that would have run clean through the Archer, who was only a step in front of Gloria.

The Archer's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Gloria's arm, trying to yank her down into a crouch. Her body didn't budge. She stood rooted to the spot as a cold spike of pure terror ripped through her, the kind that belonged to the anxious girl she used to be rather than the towering dragon she was now. For one horrible, stretched-out heartbeat she was convinced the blade was actually going to kill her. And at the peak of her terror, the blade slammed straight into her eye.

Instead of pain and darkness, the steel let out a horrible shriek and snapped clean in two, the broken halves clattering against the stone floor while Gloria remained completely untouched. The Archer's bow came up in one smooth motion a second later, and an arrow was shot from it towards the point from where the sword had been thrown. Yet even though the arrow moved faster than the thrown weapon, it never harmed its mark.

A massive double-headed axe surged out of the shadows and smashed into the shaft with a deafening clang, the force of the collision pushing whoever held the axe sliding back across the uneven ground.

"Who goes there!" the Archer shouted, anger clear in their voice even through the filter. Only then did they glance quickly at Gloria, eyes dropping to the shattered sword at her feet. They muttered under their breath, barely audible, "Monster…" Bar finally stepped out of the shadows and into the torchlight, his massive frame filling the tunnel. He stood there with his enormous axe still gripped tightly, arms visibly trembling from the force of the collision.

"Hold on!" he called out, flashing a grin as he shook feeling back into his hands.

"You'll kill someone like that, you lunatic. And that goes for you too, Rali! Why did you do that?"

"As if you have any right to speak of lunacy!" the Archer snapped back.

"You launched a sword at us!" From behind Bar, Rali emerged with that same thin smile on his face.

"Don't blame my friend… It was a simple mistake on my end, my friends…" he said, raising both hands in a placating gesture.

"I saw that little flame and assumed it belonged to some manner of monster. No harm intended, I assure you." Then the Archer said something else, while the two men kept talking back, but Gloria barely heard any of it. Her mind was still stuck on that single terrifying moment when the blade had been flying straight toward her face.

'Wait… was I really about to die just now? No, this body probably wouldn't have let that happen, but still… If I had been my old self, that would've been it. One random piece of flying metal and everything ends. Just like that. Is it really so easy to kill someone here?' She shook her head quickly after that foolish thought.

'No... It's not that killing someone could happen so easily. I've always known that. People die in the blink of an eye in both worlds. But the way they just decided to do it — like my life was worth nothing. If they're willing to try that with me, what would they do to the Archer? Or anyone else who isn't impervious to most damage, like me?' Her hand came up almost on its own, fingers pointing straight at them, even as she started creating a circle with it… But this one of a blood red color.