Chapter 382 Nightmare

"Fiiiiireball–!"

This time as Everett attempted to use the element of fire, Julius had joined them outside to watch after practicing some sword swings. Of course, Julius didn't have anything to add, only instead trying to hold back laughter at the result: a tiny ember "poofed" out from in front of Everett's finger.

"One-out-of-ten," Emilio judged.

"Maybe next time?" Celly tried to assure.

That was the first and last day that Everett tried to learn magecraft while Julius was around–a totally immature, nuisance of a man at times of needed concentration. Still, it didn't mean Everett gave up.

If there was one trait that Everett possessed, greater than his tough body, it was his unbreakable determination. Emilio connected with that, wanting to help his friend follow through with his own motivations if he could.

During the afternoon, he began helping the bumpkin study in his room, focusing on learning the fundamentals of understanding magecraft before the hands-on experience. Before there was any studying, he did have to teach Everett how to read properly, which was a task in itself. Though Everett's desire to learn was certainly there, the man definitely wasn't much of the studious or patient type, for that matter; oftentimes he fell asleep midway through lessons or would become preoccupied with the idea of eating.

"Hmm...What's it mean here by 'Envision the flow of dawn'?" Everett asked.

"It means sort of like thinking of how the wind feels when the Sun rises. Can you do that?" Emilio asked.

Everett rubbed his chin for a moment, sitting in a chair that was quite honestly a bit too small for him, though he didn't complain, "Yeah, I think I can!"

"Then start practicing that spell. Once you're able to cast it, we can move on to others," Emilio told him.

"Right on, Teacher!" Everett playfully called him.Diiscover new stories at novelhall.com

What Everett wanted to learn mostly were simple, efficient spells that could help him with his defensive specialties. Standing outside on a practice day, where Julius was chopping wood with his sword and Celly was studying her own grimoire, Emilio watched over Everett as he put what he learned into practice.

"Manifest as the shield of life! C'mon and protect those around me: Aqua Bubble!" Everett invoked.

["Aqua Bubble": a water-element spell that focuses entirely on defense, both to the caster and their allies. The bubble that is provided through the spell's usage is able to deflect basic physical attacks and mitigate magical assaults."]

Giving it his all to use the magecraft, Everett slammed his shield down against the grass, managing to manifest the spell as a protective barrier of aqua surrounded himself and Emilio.

"I did it...! Ha-ha!" Everett reacted in surprise.

Emilio smiled, giving a thumbs-up, "Good job."

A high-five was shared between them as both felt a sense of accomplishment. Watching from nearby, Celly couldn't help but smile at witnessing the student she once had become a teacher himself.

The words signified a presence that he didn't sense until just then, slowly looking over as he found a man with a cigarette in his mouth and jet-black hair standing against one of the ruined buildings. The mysterious man wore a black trenchcoat, possessing deathly pale skin and a scar that ran from the edge of the left side of his mouth and across his cheek.

There was no life in his eyes; only a darkness that Emilio recognized–something akin to the absence of life in the After.

"You felt it. That's why you came here," the man said, pulling the cigar from his lips as he slowly blew smoke out, "Emilio Dragonheart."

"How do you...? Did you do this?..." He asked.

The empty-eyed man was casual in how he brought his cigar to his lips, blowing out smoke again before responding, "It wasn't my intention, but I needed to draw you out. If I didn't, the people inside your house would've ended up like this."

Though much of it was still a mystery, what was confirmed was that the man speaking to him oh-so-casually as if disaster hadn't been brought to his hometown was the one responsible for such tragedy. Emilio clenched his fists as the dormant heat within him naturally ignited, having trouble controlling his own breathing as he was overcome with a building fury.

It was a natural instinct; not only to avenge the town and its people he cared for, but to protect his family and friends from the figure of notable danger.

'I don't know who he is or what he wants, but that doesn't matter right now. I have to stop him–here and now,' he decided.

"I'm not here to fight you," the mysterious man said, "Not here to hurt your family, either. The thing is, you need to 'go away' for a little while–your presence in Milligarde will cause problems during the war."

"War?" Emilio repeated.

"Ah...I let that slip out, didn't I?" The man scratched his head casually, removing his cigar from his lips, "Anyway, I wouldn't recommend resisting. I'm sure you understand the strength of Primordials by now, don't you?"

Those words caught him even amidst his growing fury as he looked at the man, who would normally be unassuming–an average build, likely middle-aged by his worn eyes–yet spoke of such a drastic concept.

"Primordials?...Who are you?" He asked.

"I guess you'll be more likely to listen and make it so I don't need to exert myself if I tell you. Cassian–I have the authority of the Primordial who embodies 'Death'. Now, come and make this easy," Cassian said.

In that moment, however, the opposite of the man's request came as azure fire flared from the Dragonheart's position, manifesting with a shock wave that blew a layer of snow away, causing steam to rise from the clash of temperatures.

"If that's really who you are, then I can't back down," Emilio said.

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

Pitch-black scales stretched over his body into a regal, draconic armor, producing a tail from behind him along with wings that sprouted from his back like a scaled cloak. A magnificent embodiment of destruction, refined for the goal of protection.

[Dragonheart System Activated]

[Current Stage: 5/10 | Dragon Sentinel]

Witnessing the transformation, Cassian's perpetually tired, uncaring look didn't change as he discarded his cigar to the ground, "...Ah, what a bother. I wanted to do this without having to exert myself, but I already knew that was unlikely. Intel said that you'd be a pain in the ass."