Chapter 94

While I was still flustered by the sudden activation of that odd trait, the Longsoniere agents were steadily pulling farther away from me.

I couldn’t just stand around like a dog that lost its chicken. If I hesitated, I’d lose everything.

So I had to make a quick decision.

Victory condition: Get close to the guy carrying the Caraphine.

Failure condition: Lose him.

So then, how will Winter Winslet, the tragic beast who cannot run, overcome this distance?

The first idea that came to mind was the four elixirs I had tucked away.

If I downed one, the great Winter Winslet would be able to perform the rare spectacle of running without touching the ground.

But that would be an extravagant waste. The elixirs were far too precious for something like this.

Besides, the longer the run, the harsher the stacking penalties become, and I wasn’t sure if the elixirs could fully counter those worsening effects.

Next option.

There was another way to move without touching the ground.

And of course, it was a method befitting a proper mage.

[Casting Flight Spell.]

After a bit of deliberation, I chose this spell.

Flight is classified under the telekinesis branch of magic.

It looks like flying and even has “flight” in the name, but the reality of the spell is that it moves the caster by picking them up with invisible hands.

The challenge?

Mages have a notoriously hard time casting magic on things they can’t directly see.

And the human eye, without the help of tools like mirrors, cannot take in the full image of its own body.

That’s why the Flight spell is classified as a 6th-class spell. It was high-difficulty magic.

In short… it just proves how amazing I am.

With invisible hands roughly shoving me from behind, I soared forward.

As my black coat billowed in the air, someone below shouted, “It’s the Grim Reaper!”

A reaper with a sword instead of a scythe.

I suppose that’s how I must’ve looked.

As expected, the Flight spell didn’t trigger the trait penalty, and I rapidly closed the distance between me and the ones fleeing with the Caraphine.

The two spies panicked when they saw the fake reaper closing in from above, but after exchanging glances, they split up.

The one with the ponytail dashed straight down the avenue, while the one in the hat ran toward a carriage depot across the street.

Their goal was to split and confuse the pursuer.

But against a mage, that trick was meaningless.

The one in the hat was carrying the bag with the Caraphine.

I immediately veered toward him.

At the same time, I sensed a killing intent and threw up a barrier.

Clang!

Two daggers hurled at my back struck the invisible wall and spun uselessly in midair.

When I turned to look, the ponytailed one who had pretended to flee in the opposite direction was aiming straight at me.

He had attacked to buy time for the one in the hat.

It wasn’t a meaningless move.

The Flight spell was a delicate form of magic. Lose focus for even a moment, and it fizzles out.

“Tch.”

I could feel the telekinetic force holding me aloft unraveling like smoke as gravity reclaimed me.

I plummeted at full flying speed.

As I lost altitude and began to fall, I could’ve used magic to soften the landing.

But instead, I made a different choice.

I used magic to snatch up one of the daggers that had been deflected earlier and was now lying on the ground, then hurled it back at the one who threw it.

Shlick!

A moment later, a piercing scream echoed from farther down the street.

I didn’t bother checking with my eyes to see if it hit.

Instead, I used a tumbling technique to roll with the fall.

Even when rolling across the ground, Winter Winslet did it with elegance.

On an artistic scale? A perfect 10 out of 10.

But no matter how much applause I gave myself in my heart, art points didn’t cushion the impact.

A heavy thud pounded through my entire body.

Winter Winslet wasn’t meant to be rolling in the dirt like this…

Still, I decided to be satisfied with successfully pulling off an acrobatic feat that would’ve been hard to reproduce even in the original Candela of Judgment.

I rose to one knee.

With the attacker neutralized, only one Longsoniere agent remained.

Thanks to the ponytailed one’s interference, the guy in the hat had managed to reach the post station and was now boarding a carriage.

I took aim at the underside of the carriage he was climbing into and cast the fastest offensive spell I had:

[Casting Low-Level Combustion Spell.]

Booom!

An explosion without delay.

The same spell Shannon once used in the duel.

However, the explosion carefully controlled in strength detonated beneath the carriage.

The rear axle shattered, and the back wheels spun away like lollipops rolling on the ground.

With its rear wheels lost, the carriage tipped and collapsed.

The Longsoniere agent, thwarted mid-escape, clicked his tongue in irritation.

But the street was lined with other carriages, and as if nothing had happened, he simply continued his escape by boarding another.

I began chanting another explosion spell aimed at his new ride…

But luck wasn’t on my side.

Neighhhh!

Horses are sensitive creatures.

Startled by the earlier blast, the panicked horses began to buck and rear, momentarily blocking my line of sight.

While I struggled to get a clear aim, the carriage carrying him took off.

I considered just blowing the whole thing sky-high… but sighed instead.

That wasn’t an option.

The item he carried was high-concentration Caraphine.

Though the ultra-concentrated Caraphine rods produced at the academy had been coated with a dampener, if exposed to a powerful offensive spell, the risk of explosion was extremely high.

That’s why I had targeted the underside of the carriage rather than the man himself.

If that stuff exploded in the middle of a city like this…

I didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

To avoid triggering the Caraphine, I’d be forced to either close in and take it by force or snipe it using a low-power, high-precision spell.

That’s why landing a surprise attack while they were still unaware of me back in the theater had been so critical.

But Carina Valpenera’s interference had ruined that opportunity.

Still… what’s done is done.

No point dwelling on it.

Time to let go and widen my focus.

Candela of Judgment had always been a game with high freedom where improvising against unpredictable variables was part of the core experience.

So, how was I going to chase down that fleeing carriage now?

I considered using the Flight spell again, but quickly dismissed the idea.

Too many tall buildings in the area made it a poor choice.

Then again… there was another way.

Yes, that would work.

I approached the wrecked carriage I had just destroyed.

The coachman was inspecting the broken rear wheel with a miserable look on his face.

I walked right past him to the front of the carriage.

Then, with the sword I had temporarily borrowed from Carina Valpenera, I swiftly severed the harness connecting the horses to the carriage.

The coachman, understandably, flipped out and came running after me.

“H-Hey! What the hell are you doing!”

“I need to borrow a horse.”

“You can’t just say that outta nowhere! And now you’ve gone and ruined the harness—waah!”

The man abruptly threw up his hands in surrender.

I had raised my right hand toward him while still holding the sword.

With a trembling smile, the coachman stammered,

“P-Please, take it. Honestly, I was going to offer it from the start! I could tell the moment I saw you….you’ve got the face of a great noble—!”

His voice faltered.

Right.

I was still wearing a mask.

What “face” was he even talking about?

“Just last night, a fortune teller told me a noble person would appear in my life… I guess that’s you, sir! Hahaha!”

Quick on the uptake, this guy.

Realizing he had misunderstood, I flipped the sword around and handed him the hilt.

“It’s a sword belonging to a high-ranking royal official. Take it to the court, mention Carina Valpenera’s name, and get compensation for the broken carriage and the horse I borrowed today. Or, if you’d rather, sell it off as stolen goods. That might fetch a better price.”

“N-No, sir! I wouldn’t dare…!”

Without waiting for the coachman to finish, I climbed onto the horse.

“Whoa there! Be careful, sir!”

The coachman shouted, leaping back in surprise.

The already agitated horse had reared up in fright and started to buck wildly.

Neighhhh!

It curled its body, stomped the ground, and jolted upward with force. At one point, it even raised its front legs as if trying to walk upright, thrashing under me.

I squeezed my legs around its waist, struggling to keep my balance.

Though brief, the jarring impact struck my hips and back several times.

“Whoa, easy now. Calm down.”

I tightened my thighs while keeping my waist flexible.

An amateur rider would’ve been thrown off long ago, but Winter Winslet who occasionally attended noble riding clubs had decent horsemanship.

And one more thing.

I had a secret advantage.

Needless to say, it was magic.

[Casting spell Communion with Animals.]

A magical bridge connected our minds.

Though horses and humans don’t share a language, emotions and intent could cross that bridge and be conveyed to one another.

I’m not trying to hurt you. Help me.

Snort…

It took just fifteen seconds for the terrified horse to regain its senses and calm down.

At last, I seized the reins.

I gave a light tap to its side with the tip of my boot, and the horse began to move forward.

From a walk to a trot, then into a gallop.

Behind me came the coachman’s cry:

“Oh dear, what now…! Elizabeth! Come back safe!”

Elizabeth? Quite the grand name for a horse.

Regardless, Elizabeth empowered by Winter Winslet’s horsemanship and the communication spell began to pick up speed.

Her breed was mixed, and she had never been professionally trained.

But creatures born to run seemed to relish the chance to cast off their burden, and she dashed lively across the stone-paved road.

Satisfied with her speed, I looked ahead.

The carriage carrying the Longsoniere agent, who had departed first, had already gained some distance and was turning the corner onto Blondin Street.

The spy with the hat was sticking his head out the window, looking back at me.

He spotted me in pursuit and began shouting at the coachman to hurry.

One carriage versus one horse.

I had the edge in speed.

If I simply kept going at this pace, I’d eventually catch up.

But I had a feeling the spy, realizing this too, wouldn’t sit still.

And just then, I thought of a better way.

The royal capital, Lambart.

A very useful method that only a seasoned expert who knows every inch of this city could use.