Chapter 46. Everyone Has a Trump Card
He did not come crashing through the door behind which Binaeril was resting.
He did not barge in with drawn sword, threatening.
He did so with utter common sense.
He knocked on the door to announce his presence to the person inside.
Until he opened the door, Binaeril had assumed it was merely the innkeeper come to say something late at night.
But when he opened the door, Dominik Silleo was standing there.
"We meet again."
Without asking Binaeril's permission, he trudged into the room, claimed a chair, and sat down.
"Sit."
Dominik acted as if he belonged there.
At this point, it was impossible to tell who was the host and who was the guest.
Binaeril was momentarily rendered speechless by this unexpectedly ordinary entrance.
Come to think of it, since beginning his journey, this was the first time someone had appeared so normally.
No, was he an enemy? It was difficult to think otherwise.
But Binaeril could not feel an ounce of hostility from him, coming as he did so calmly.
Binaeril pretended not to know and asked who he was.
It was a foolish question. Dominik had come to his door in the exact same clothes he had worn during the day.
At his waist hung his symbol—a sword with a platinum hilt.
At the abrupt question, Dominik smiled faintly.
"Puhaha. You know who I am, don't you?"
Then he wiped the smile away completely and added,
"Just as I know who you are."
Binaeril decided to stop playing the fool. This man had come looking for a mage.
The world's most famous anti-magicist, called the Witch Slayer, had come looking for a mage.
Wasn't the purpose clear?
"Have you come to kill me?"
Binaeril used honorifics with him, in contrast to Dominik's comfortable, condescending speech.
Dominik shrugged.
"If that were the case, I wouldn't have come like this."
He had come without any escorts whatsoever.
It could mean he wished to talk, or it could be an expression of confidence—that a mage of Binaeril's caliber required no additional troops to subdue.
"Your magic was impressive."
-Stupid thing. So stupid.
"I don't have time, so I'll be blunt. I'm on my way to catch a witch."
He laid out his business as abruptly as his entrance had been ordinary.
"Slaughtering a mere mage wouldn't require soldiers, but this time is different."
For now, Binaeril decided to listen obediently.
"The goal of this mission is to capture the witch alive."
Binaeril didn't know which witch he was after.
But he couldn't shake a foreboding premonition.
Somehow, he felt certain it would be someone he knew.
"The target is the Witch of Delusion. A mage named Priya Mereujina, living in the Thornwinter Wetlands. I want to borrow your hand to capture her. What do you say? If we succeed, I'll pay you whatever you ask."
'As expected.'
He had never heard the name Witch of Delusion before, but he knew the other names.
Coincidentally, Priya Mereujina was also a name Binaeril had been searching for.
"You're stronger than me. Why are you asking me for help?"
"The Witch of Delusion is a formidable opponent. Victory I cannot guarantee, but capturing her alive is even harder. It is a mission I cannot afford to fail, so I intend to make thorough preparations."
Dominik answered surprisingly readily.
"What if I refuse?"
He smiled again. Who knew what was so amusing?
"This is not a kind offer. You know what people call me, don't you?"
'I know full well.'
This was not a kind offer.
It was a peaceful threat.
"Please give me time to think."
"...Very well. As much as you need. But you cannot take past tonight. My schedule is tight on this end as well. We depart from Ayaksen tomorrow morning."
"...Understood."
Dominik returned as quietly as he had come.
He made no attempt to restrain Binaeril, nor any physical threat.
But that was precisely what made him terrifying.
It was an expression of confidence that a mage of Binaeril's level could be caught even if he ran.
After Dominik left, Binaeril let out a long sigh.
-What are you going to do?
Beritaseu asked him.
'What do you think.'
Binaeril decided he had gotten all the sleep he needed for tonight.
'I have to run right now.'
"Guard it tightly."
Binaeril packed his bags and leaped onto the inn's rooftop.
To avoid making noise, he cast acceleration magic on his body and received Eden's help as well.
'He posted men.'
He had suspected that leaving so obediently was too suspicious, and indeed, about four to six soldiers were positioned around the inn.
Binaeril crossed over the rooftops, gradually putting distance between himself and Ayaksen.
The Thornwinter Wetlands were far enough away that it would take several days of walking from Ayaksen to reach them.
He briefly considered procuring a horse somehow, but soon gave up.
He had no confidence he could ride a horse better than Dominik the knight, and causing a commotion trying to secure a mount in the middle of the night seemed worse than gaining even a little more distance.
Though he was exhausted from not having slept a wink, Binaeril raised his mana.
If he ran by applying acceleration magic and wind magic, couldn't he shave off at least a day or two?
...Though he didn't know if his body would hold out until then.
With Eden's help, Binaeril cleared the city gates and ran and ran.
Whenever he lost his direction, Beritaseu offered guidance.
By the time the walls of Ayaksen had halved in size behind him—
Dominik Silleo was standing there.
"Damn it."
Binaeril kicked the ground irritably and stopped.
Dominik Silleo had planted his sheathed sword into the ground and was looking at Binaeril with inorganic eyes.
Binaeril caught his breath, which had risen all the way to his throat.
"I ran for nothing."
"You choose foolishly."
"Mister, if you were going to do this, you should have said so from the start. Why make me waste my strength?"
Dominik drew his sword.
"Rats just can't seem to understand human speech. A breed that doesn't know the value of its own life."
"What are you talking about? When did you ever try to persuade me with words? All you did was threaten me—this isn't a conversation."
Binaeril provoked him boldly.
But he couldn't hide his anxiety. His fingertips began to tremble slightly.
The gap in their strength was clear.
Binaeril couldn't read his attacks.
Moreover, Binaeril had no experience facing a highly trained knight.
In contrast, Dominik Silleo was a man specialized in fighting mages, to the extent that he had earned the epithet "Witch Slayer."
'But that doesn't mean I have no chance of winning.'
Binaeril judged that even Dominik Silleo would have difficulty responding to incantationless magic.
"You look confident. Will you be using that magic without warning that you showed during the day?"
'...Shit.'
"It was because of that ability that I tried to scout you. But that alone won't be enough to defeat me."
Dominik had even figured out Binaeril's weapon.
He assumed a textbook middle guard. A sly smirk hung at his lips.
He was looking down on Binaeril.
"What tier mage are you?"
Binaeril didn't answer. He had to seize the initiative while his opponent was careless.
'I need to create distance. Here I go!'
Binaeril kicked off the ground, leaping backward as he heightened his imagination.
He didn't chant. This was to prevent Dominik from reading his attacks.
Magic arrows coalesced around Binaeril and instantly shot toward Dominik.
"Impatient one, aren't you?"
The surroundings were dark. In the darkness, Dominik's silver hair reflected a faint light.
Binaeril could easily guess his position, but Dominik could not do the same.
But Dominik crushed all of Binaeril's magic arrows with just two swings of his sword.
'A monster.'
There was no room to let his guard down.
Binaeril imagined the ground Dominik stepped on freezing, with stone spears rising from all directions.
Operating magic through thought alone, without opening his mouth, required several times more concentration than usual.
"Fascinating."
As he spoke, not a single breath was ragged.
He effortlessly cut down the rock spears rising at ferocious speed.
"A remarkable talent. No mage at your age has ever unleashed magic of this degree without chanting."
A faint sword cry resonated from his blade after cutting through the stone spears.
"But. This won't be enough."
'Come closer, closer!'
Simple magic couldn't leave a single scratch on Dominik's body.
Binaeril focused on his magic, making Dominik wary of him.
Binaeril's impromptu plan was gradually falling into place.
For the first time, Dominik lifted his foot.
Binaeril thought he had moved a single step, but before he knew it, the sword was already swinging.
-Right, dodge!
'Right?'
At Beritaseu's warning, Binaeril reflexively twisted his body.
Though he hadn't seen it, he could feel something sharp brush past his shoulder.
'And we're this far apart!'
It was an abnormal distance for a sword to reach. Binaeril corrected his mistake.
Distance had little meaning in a battle against a Platinum Knight.
'If I exchange blows, I'm at a disadvantage. I have to do it in one go!'
When Dominik took his next step, his cold face was already within arm's reach.
Binaeril stomped the ground hard, putting his strength into it.
A large clump of earth rose up, blocking Dominik's vision.
In that same moment, he imagined gathering lightning magic in his left hand.
His aim was the moment Dominik cut through the rising mound of dirt.
'Right now!'
The advantage of lightning magic lay in its tremendous speed.
Without thinking of what came next, Binaeril poured all the mana he could muster into this single lightning strike.
His palm stung, and the smell of burning flesh began to rise.
'...It hurts!'
But he couldn't stop. The released lightning struck something but was immediately blocked, locked in a contest of power.
"Ha!"
"Aagh!"
Accompanied by a shout from beyond the dirt mound, Binaeril was sent flying.
Dominik was completely unharmed.
The dark blue surcoat he wore crackled with electricity and vibrated.
"An artifact?"
"Did you think I wouldn't prepare such things when facing a mage?"
"This... cowardly......"
Spitting out a line befitting any common villain, Binaeril tried to push himself up from his knees.
"Enough."
Dominik pretended to be composed, but he wasn't entirely unscathed.
His silver hair was singed in places, and his face was etched with fatigue.
He hadn't managed to block a spell unleashed at such close range without taking any damage.
Binaeril felt his mental strength being depleted.
He deliberately let his knee buckle to feign exhaustion.
It was all for the final move.
"I misjudged you. I thought you were merely a fledgling mage."
He raised his sword and placed it at Binaeril's neck.
"I was wrong. You are a far more dangerous sewer rat than I thought."
Generally, young mages lacked both practical experience and magical power.
But the boy he faced possessed skills far too great to be classified as a "young mage."
The organic linkage between his spells, his battle sense—all far surpassed his age.
Without the surcoat enchanted with anti-magic spells, he wouldn't have emerged unscathed.
Dominik didn't want to bear the risk.
Letting this boy go as he was—that was a risk.
"You were a rather useful rat among the thrashing ones. Die."
He put strength into his sword hand and slashed horizontally.
No—tried to slash.
Everyone has a trump card.
Just as Dominik had hidden his artifact as a trump card, Binaeril too had a move he hadn't shown until the very end.
'Eden!'
The spirit dwelling within the ring responded to its master's will.
The spirit fired a thorn composed of tens and hundreds of fragments right in front of Dominik's face.
"What—?!"
If that attack had been magic, his surcoat would have reacted. But it wasn't magic.
Dominik urgently tried to cut the young mage's throat, but even that was blocked by Eden's defense.
"Kraaagh!"
Dominik's face and upper body were scraped and pierced by sharp thorns, soon becoming a bloody mess.
"You damned rat!"
Rage rose on the expression that had until then maintained its composure. He could barely open his eyes.
Binaeril's final hidden card. It was the spirit, Eden.
Eden had followed Binaeril's plan perfectly. Lying in wait until the critical moment, it launched the final attack.
But this level of attack was merely buying time.
Binaeril scraped together his last shred of mental strength and desperately began to chant.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Dominik swung his sword, guessing that Binaeril was trying to flee.
Beritaseu read the trajectory of the attack, and Binaeril created a thin sheet of ice along his escape route.
Binaeril evaded the attack by gliding along it as if skating.
Dominik roughly swept away the thorns embedded in his face.
His skin was scraped and torn. But he barely managed to secure his vision.
...No one was there.
The young rat he had let slip, the mage who cast without chanting, had already left his side.
"You... damned rat!"