Explaining to Gordiv why I wasn't the culprit wasn't difficult.
Veratir had already wrapped up the earlier incident, and Philip's fate was still uncertain.
"Instructor Philip is an alchemist, correct?"
With this question, I aimed to achieve one or both of the following:
First, clear evidence that I hadn't orchestrated this event.
Second, confirmation that Philip was still alive.
'Answer me, Veratir.'
No matter how you respond, you'll end up helping me.
"Yes, Philip is indeed an alchemist and the instructor in that field."
"Then let me ask again."
"Why does the hand you claim to be Philip's lack the 'Book of Contracts,' the symbol of an alchemist?"
Veratir froze.
He looked at the hand he claimed to be Philip's, confirming it himself, then glanced between Gordiv and me with a flustered expression.
'Got him.'
I was confident that the hand he held wasn't Philip's. If it were, it should have had the 'Book of Contracts' inscribed on the back. But the hand he held was perfectly clean.
Ahem—
Gordiv cleared his throat as he looked at Veratir.
"Veratir, I'd like an explanation for this."
It was over.
His lie was exposed. I no longer needed to explain; I just had to listen to their conversation.
"…Impressive, Strange's brat."
Veratir's tense expression shifted to a slight smirk before he suddenly struck Gordiv in the abdomen with an aura-infused finger.
It happened in an instant.
A blow so swift it was almost impossible to react.
Of course, if it were me, I wouldn't have stood still until my abdomen was pierced. But Gordiv, a mage, had physical abilities akin to an average person.
And being older, he couldn't avoid it.
"Cough!"
Blood gushed from Gordiv's mouth. He couldn't utter a word, just stared at Veratir's face before his head slumped.
Thud.
Despite his outstanding knowledge as a sage and being one of the top five mages on the continent, he met a pitiful end.
"Damned mage, you should've just done as I said. Why drag it out and create such a situation? Are you trying to get killed—"
Veratir's brow furrowed deeply.
"Hey, I'll kill you soon too, so just wait."
He glared at me with a sinister look I had never seen in my previous life.
'It can't be helped.'
In this situation, I had no choice but to fight.
I waited with my sword still sheathed.
"Come at me."
"…You don't intend to draw your sword?"
"No need to."
"How arrogant. Even after witnessing my skill just now, you say that?"
I didn't respond.
Because I knew Veratir could never defeat me.
In my previous life, he had once told me:
'My fists are as powerful as cannons and as precise as a skilled hunter's arrow. But I can't hit what I can't see.'
Exactly.
His technique had a critical flaw.
To land a hit, he had to constantly watch his target. This meant that blocking or dodging in the direction of his gaze nullified his attacks.
'Now.'
Veratir's gaze locked onto my chin.
He seemed intent on ending this in one strike.
I gripped my sword's hilt tightly.
He always stepped forward with his right foot while throwing a punch.
'Now.'
Whoosh!
His punch sliced through the air, swift and sharp like a blade.
His fist flew silently.
Bang!
A thunderous noise like an explosion echoed as his punch reached its target.
"…You dodged?"
I had moved just a step back, narrowly avoiding his punch.
Veratir frowned deeply, tilting his head in disbelief.
'As expected.'
Dodging his attacks wasn't hard.
The moment he extended his fist, I simply stepped back.
There was no need to block with a shield or deflect with a sword.
I already knew the length of his reach.
'Right.'
Considering how many times I had been hit by his punches in my previous life, it would be impossible not to remember.
"So, do you think you can catch me?"
Veratir's face flushed with anger as he began throwing punches again.
Each time, I dodged lightly and added a remark.
"Even a monkey would be better. You keep throwing the same punches, no wonder you can't hit me."
"You damned brat…!"
"Why don't you try using your legs? They're longer, after all."
This comment enraged him to the core.
I knew why Veratir didn't use kicks. In his younger days, he had severely injured both legs in a battle against my father.
The story goes that on their first encounter, my father slashed Veratir's knee as he kicked, and since then, he never used his legs in combat.
Vroom—
Veratir's punches were slowing down.
It was clear his stamina was rapidly depleting.
I waited for his next attack, and the moment his fist shot out, I aimed my sword at his neck.
Shing!
His fist stopped in front of my face, and my sword halted before his neck.
The outcome was exactly as I intended.
It appeared as if we were evenly matched, maintaining his pride.
"…Not bad, kid."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"You've got such talent, it's a shame to kill you."
"Then will you spare me?"
"That's difficult. If I let you live, who knows what might happen to me?"
I slowly stepped back while keeping my eyes locked on him and kicked Gordiv's body into the lake.
Splash!
"…What are you doing?"
"Destroying evidence."
"What?"
"I think it's best if what happened here remains a secret between the two of us."
Fwoosh.
A fireball swirled in my palm.
"Fireball."
It was a basic fire spell I had learned from Brunhild.
I used the flames to erase the bloodstains from Gordiv, answering Veratir's gaze.
Ssssh—
"Veratir, you're targeting my father, aren't you? You planned to lure him here by killing me."
Veratir listened silently, seemingly intrigued by my words.
"You thought none of my brothers, Tony, Johnny, or Lonnie, would make our father move, so you weren't interested in them."
"...."
"But with my unexpected arrival here, you saw a chance to use me as bait, leading to this scheme."
He smirked, waving his hand in the air.
"Interesting. Keep talking."
"Collaborating with Instructor Philip, you trapped me. Then, using that pretext, you intended to instigate a war between Luines Academy and Strange."
"...."
"That would bring you a chance to fight my father."
"And why would I target your father?"
"There are plenty of reasons. But the most plausible one, in my opinion, is because you were expelled from his party in the past."
"...."
"If I'm wrong, there's nothing more to say. But that's what I believe. I'd be extremely humiliated and angry if I were in your shoes."
Veratir's expression twisted in a mix of frustration and laughter, and he clapped his forehead with a slap.
"You're really something, aren't you? Ha… seriously! Lois used to brag about having a treasure among his old comrades."
Did my father say such things? Even while seeking out his old companions?
"Really, you're something else. A brat worth nurturing! Hahaha!"
I took a step closer and asked.
"Will you answer me now? I want to know your true purpose."
"You already know everything, don't you? Whether it's the past that Lois told you about, or the rest that you figured out on your own."
Bingo!
That was all the confirmation I needed.
He had acknowledged my deductions.
"Veratir, I have a proposal for you."
"A proposal? In this situation?"
"It seems like our goals align…."
I sheathed my sword and continued.
Ssshh—
"Together, we could create a much better picture."
* * *
The path from the 40th to the 50th floor of the tower.
In the expansive '49th floor,' there was a grand castle facing the turbulent sea.
There, Duchess Katarina and her escort squad arrived.
"Is there still no improvement in your condition?"
Katarina asked Lois with a desperate look.
"The medicine isn't working. It's clearly not a curse. No mere monster's poison could affect me."
Lois, the head and pillar of Strange, gazed into the distance with hollow eyes.
Not long ago, his presence was so powerful it was intimidating, but now Katarina looked straight at his face without averting her eyes.
"I will find a way to cure you. I'm sure the royal palace's mages can heal you."
"Enough. I refuse to rely on a mage's help. My ancestors would laugh. How could a swordsman depend on a mage?"
"But—"
"Enough!"
Lois's shout made the castle tremble as if hit by an earthquake.
Katarina lowered her head with a frightened expression. Even the guards in the room barely held their weapons with trembling hands.
"I know my body best. It's neither a curse nor poison. This is clearly someone's power at work."
Ssssh—
Behind Lois appeared an image of a golden giant with six arms, one face peaceful and the other furious.
"They will aim for my neck as I grow weaker. I just have to wait for the enemy to show themselves."
"…Lois."
"This conversation ends here. I'm tired. Leave now."
Katarina could ask no more.
The master's order was absolute. Even as his wife, she couldn't offer her opinion.
"I'll leave the medicine here."
With these words, Katarina left the castle.
As she exited, she whispered a cryptic message to a knight in black armor she encountered on the way.
"Relay to them to finish the job tonight."