Magic Academy Bans Harem

Chapter 414 An Unexpected Reunion

Roland Elson once aspired to be someone who could keep any promise. There wasn't any particular reason for this idea; he simply felt that the feeling of being true to one's word was the ideal of a man in his mind.

Furthermore, during Roland's spirited youth, his once-in-a-century swordsmanship talent began to blossom. Deep within him always lay a sense of invincibility, believing that with a sword in hand, he was invincible.

But
As time went by, Roland gradually realized that no matter how powerful he was, there were still too many things in the world that he could not do anything about.

He failed to fulfill his promise to his mother, his promise to his father, his promise to his siblings, his promise to the inhabitants of the West, his promise to the border guards, his promise to the students of Elson, his promise to his wife's teacher, and even his promise to his deceased wife.

Looking back dejectedly, Roland realized that the number of agreements he had fulfilled was very few.

So, what would his past self say if he saw his present self?

And in order to prevent his "guarantee" from becoming the most ridiculous joke, shouldn't he occasionally fulfill his promise?
However, those agreements were really too difficult.

Including the one most recent to date.
That time?
In the arena, even though he hadn't launched a desperate attack in a long time, Freud still showed no signs of rustiness. It was as if his whole body transformed into two waves of heat that surged toward Roland.

In his dazed state, Roland's mind was already filled with a series of images flashing by.

As Freud said, the lofty Roland had already broken his beliefs.

Just like the sword in his hand, his "old buddy" in his heart.

And there's nothing we can do about it.

again and again.

The things Roland once firmly believed in never helped him in the slightest when he needed that strength the most.

Therefore, it's as if he's lost his inner self, becoming nothing more than an empty shell. Even so, the only reason he hasn't fallen all these years is because he was simply too powerful in the past. So powerful that even if nothing could be attached to his sword, no one could shake him.

but now.
Faced with his younger brother who had completely surpassed him, Roland slowly loosened his grip on the sword.

He was exhausted and didn't even know what he was persisting in.

Whether it's the Western Regions, the clan, or the family, everything can function without him. And his daughter, whom he once worried about the most, has long since become strong and no longer needs his concern.

He no longer needs to protect anyone.
"."

Just as Roland was about to give up completely, he suddenly saw it.

A teleportation magic circle suddenly appeared in the arena, and a figure gradually took shape on the magic circle.

Roland, whose eyes widened slightly, suddenly remembered something.

He had another promise, one that he could have kept, and one that he hadn't. He also had a child who was more worrying than his somewhat clumsy daughter.

Even if the agreement itself was unreasonable, at the very least, he couldn't, and absolutely shouldn't, die in front of that child, only to have him once again believe that he was "cursed."

In an instant, Freud, who was rushing towards him, felt an astonishing aura emanating from the dying Roland.

A surge of heat reignited Roland's cold blood, filling his decaying, withered body with power.

Even sensing this abnormality, Freud could not back down. The Elson-style swordsmen, having already begun their "death struggle," never had the option of retreat.

Roland's low-profile posture is remarkably similar to Freud's lunging stance.

Because even if the weapons they wield are different, they still use the same swordsmanship.

In the blink of an eye, the two figures crossed paths.

With his back to Freud, Roland looked up at the torrential rain from the sky.

He felt as if he had returned to the past, back to the moment when he defeated the previous Sword Saint.

With a broken sword, Roland once again unleashed his ultimate strike.

But his body was still crisscrossed with sword wounds, and crimson flames burst forth.
Even though he now had the will, he could no longer hold the sword in his hand, letting it fall.

Meanwhile, Freud stared wide-eyed at the scene before him, utterly incredulous.

Wherever the eye falls, a straight crack hangs in mid-air, causing everything in the space it touches to appear displaced.

Not only was the space misaligned, but his own left arm and upper body were also out of position.

It resembled a body split in two, but without a clean cross-section, and without any splatter of blood.

Because it was merely a spatial misalignment; he wasn't actually struck. Therefore, even though it appeared that the right and left edges of his arm were connected, and his upper chest and abdomen looked like misaligned building blocks, he still had nothing to worry about.

But...
why?
Why was his right arm able to remain properly attached in this misaligned space?

In that instant, Freud felt as if he were going crazy.

The sound of a broken sword hitting the ground rang out behind him.

In an instant, the misaligned space suddenly contracted.

The sky, the earth, the walls of the arena, the left arm, the upper body—everything was combined in the correct posture.

Alone
"what--!"

With a painful roar, Freud's bleeding right arm flew off and crashed to the ground.

"Roland—!"

Grabbing his already chipped right arm, Floyd let out an angry roar.

This was anger directed at Roland, who had severed his own arm, and also Freud's anger towards himself.

Even though Roland is now in his dying state, he is still no match for his opponent.

If the fishing rod hadn't broken, how come he only lost his arm?
They clearly still possess such immense power, yet they've been... and been all this time!
Even though Floyd paid a heavy price, he was still the victor in this public duel that staked the succession of the family line. Because, of course, he was the only one still standing.

Completely consumed by rage, Freud picked up a sword from the ground and rushed toward the direction where Roland had fallen.

But the figure that had already appeared from the teleportation magic circle naturally wouldn't give Freud a chance to deliver a fatal blow.

Standing in front of Floyd, Ritas Elson pointed a longsword at him. Floyd, already on the verge of losing his mind, was naturally enraged by Ritas's action.

Even if he is injured and becomes destitute, it is absolutely not up to the "bastard" and the "good-for-nothing" to point their swords at him!
The extinguishing of the flames did not affect the sharp sword strike at all, instantly splitting Ritas in two.

However, after "Ritas" was killed, there was no bloody scene, but a bizarre scene appeared.

Suddenly, from Ritas's wounds and seven orifices, numerous withered, branch-like things began to sprout and swiftly pierce Freud in front of him.

Even with this surprise attack, Floyd was not directly injured. He snapped almost all the dry branches in half with a single blow. However, even without being directly stabbed, Floyd was still in considerable pain.

Because, as those withered branches broke, a large amount of dust-like substances were released and flew throughout the space.

In the short term, no other parts of Floyd's body showed any signs of damage. However, his severed arm, still bleeding, quickly turned a dark green color from the sand.

poison?
It's not poison, or rather, it's not ordinary poison!
With his robust physique and immunity to almost all toxins, Freud felt his body sluggish and his vision spinning, realizing that a real crisis was about to arrive.

Sure enough, after what appeared to be Ritas's magical clone shattered completely, what appeared in Freud's vision was Ritas's true form, with wide, bloodshot eyes, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, unleashing all of his magical power.

As they watched, a blazing white light, engulfing everything around it, spread out from Ritas as its center.

Freud truly felt the approach of death.

?

Freud, who had closed his eyes because the light of destruction was too dazzling, did not wait for his body to dissipate.

When Freud opened his eyes again, he saw a completely still world.

The blue-haired youth, who had stretched out his arm in front of Freud and seemed to have somehow frozen time, nodded slightly to Freud. Then, he made a gesture with his right index finger and thumb, as if he were fiddling with something, and aimed it at the equally frozen destruction magic, bringing it close to his eye.

The next moment, the blue-haired youth shrunk the white light into a tiny white bead that could fit on his fingertip. He then placed it in his other free hand and flicked it into the distant sky.

"Why are you here?"

"Don't mind it, Mr. Freud. Since the other side started this public duel by interfering first, our interference is just a form of retaliation."

The blue-haired youth smiled gently, turning his gaze to Ritas on the other side.
"It's been a long time, Ritas. I wasn't really prepared to meet you again in this way. But many things in this world are interesting precisely because they are unpredictable. Don't you think so?"

"."

After closing his eyes for a moment to calm his feverish mind and boiling emotions, Ritas opened them again and directly pointed out the intruder's name.

"John."

"A 'random number spell' that allows a spell that shouldn't be cast to be cast in an out-of-control way? I think your control over this kind of spell is exceptionally precise. Even the series of actions before casting it were calm and orderly. So... are you really angry, Ritas?"

Time had been frozen by some unknown means, and only those who knew John could move around in the arena. John was "greeting" his friend with a smile in this way.

As he spoke, a red aura swirled around his sides and feet.

Soon, four figures appeared from four streams of air.

"I'm sorry, Minister! It's really necessary for you to handle this personally."

The middle-aged male "top salesman," who possessed the ability to teleport people with red energy streams, apologized profusely to John.

John simply shook his head slightly.

“No need for apologies, Mr. Top Salesman. Your judgment was wise; otherwise, we would have suffered serious losses this time.”

John spoke, glancing at the others.

"Miss Hecate, Master Gorilla, and what are you all doing here?"

Although John had a premonition when he was summoned by the top salesperson, seeing his "fellow travelers" in such a miserable state made the smile on his face somewhat forced.

"Hehehe, the 'young lion' we encountered is far more ferocious than we imagined. No, it would be more accurate to call it a 'demon.' This time, I dragged down another Sword Saint, Elson. I will try to make up for today's mistake in the future, General."

Although the goblin swordsman, whose face had been half-shaved off, had a weak aura, his mental state was still quite good.

"I don't know. Meow."

Hecate, lying prostrate on the ground, responded weakly.

"Ever since before, I've felt somewhat powerless."

That was during a rainmaking ceremony held by the White Wings Evangelical Fellowship and its pilgrims.

Hecate, who was initially eager to get serious, suddenly felt something was wrong with her body. Meanwhile, the top salesman, whose abilities weren't suited for direct combat, saw his partner inexplicably collapse and, unable to help Ritas and the others, could only take Hecate and move to reunite with his companions.

It didn't matter that they didn't reunite; when they did, they discovered that their other two companions were also almost out of breath.

The top salesman, feeling his head spin, then teleported with his reunited companions to the vicinity of the arena. What they saw was the scene of Floyd nearly being beaten to death.

Left with no other choice, he had to resort to his last insurance policy.

"It seems we all need some time to adapt to this 'current' world. Let's leave for now."

"Do you really think you can just leave here whenever you want?"

Ritas's voice rang out.

While John and his group were allowed to talk, Ritas's silence did not mean he was idle.

He was disrupting this space to prevent the top salesman from teleporting away from him again. Although Ritas couldn't completely prevent the other party from using teleportation, given that most of John's group were severely injured, if they were caught in the spatial turbulence, at least half of them would likely perish in the void.

"Well, actually, your condition isn't much better, is it, Ritas? The more you bluff like this, the more I feel you're in a state where you could collapse at any moment. Magic isn't 'magic tricks' after all, so to achieve the corresponding results, there's a corresponding price to pay. Just because you hide the process doesn't mean those processes and costs don't exist."

John, as if he had completely seen through Ritas's outward bravado but inner weakness, continued,

"Or perhaps I responded incorrectly. I should have said..."

“'Yes, I do believe we can leave if we want to—'”

(End of this chapter)