"The taste of a Witch is truly exquisite!"
There was no doubt that this was exactly what Roswaal was thinking.
That soft, delicate touch, that sweet nectar, even across a gap of over four hundred years, he remembered it with crystalline clarity. It was likely the most unforgettable flavor in the world.
As he briefly reminisced about those beautiful days of old, Roswaal's anger quietly dissipated by half. He regained his smile and spoke in his characteristic, rhythmic cadence: "To be ho~nest, I have absolutely no~ idea what you are talking about. Those terri~ble Witches are figures from over four hundred years ago; it's simply impossible~ for me to have any connection with them, I sa~y."
"Planning to play dumb?" Aomori stepped into the air, walking upward step by step until he stood level with Roswaal. He smiled and said, "Or did the Warlock of Melancholy truly beat the wits out of you? If the disciple of Echidna, the Witch of Greed, has turned into a mere clown, her soul probably won't find peace in the afterlife."
Roswaal narrowed his eyes. This conversation was not following the script he had envisioned. The man before him had, once again, caused him to lose his grip on the future.
"It seems you know quite a lot, Excellency. How about we find a place to have a thorough chat?" he said, his voice dropping the theatrical tone for one of serious sincerity.
"No problem." It just so happened that Aomori had several matters to take up with him as well.
Roswaal nodded, glanced at the indifferent Ram among the crowd below, and took flight first. Aomori followed close behind with a flick of his sleeves, leaving not a single word of instruction for the others.
"..." The Chief was left dumbfounded, unsure of how to proceed.
"What does the Lord mean? Should we wait here?" the Oni tribe's second-in-command asked in confusion.
"Yes, it's probably better if we wait."
In this dense jungle, where could they possibly go? Running away would be the height of stupidity. Once he reached this conclusion, the Chief shouted to the clansmen, "Rest where you are! Replenish your strength!"
"Yes!"
Rem placed a tattered cloth on the ground and invited Ram to sit, letting out a long sigh of relief. During the previous battle, although she had been terrified, she had pushed herself to release skills alongside Ram, successfully claiming her first kill.
Strangely, she had felt a surge of excitement at the time. It was only now, as she recalled the field strewn with corpses, that she felt a wave of nausea and lingering fear.
She leaned toward Ram and whispered, "That big meanie ran off. Should we take this chance to escape?"
"Better not," Ram shook her head. "That man won't go down easily. With his abilities, finding us would be child's play."
"So we just wait here obediently for him to come back?" Rem looked worried. "What if he really splits us up? Rem doesn't want to be away from Onee-chan..."
"It's okay. Even if we are separated, I will find you. I promise."
"Mm, Rem will too!"
They hadn't been resting for long when Aomori's figure suddenly manifested before the crowd. His sharp gaze swept over every member of the Oni tribe as he commanded, "Everyone up. Prepare to move out."
"Yes!"
"He's back so soon..." Rem pouted.
"Let's go." Ram stood up, pulling Rem along, while staring at Aomori with a pensive look.
"What is it, Onee-chan?"
"It might just be my imagination, but I feel like this person isn't the same one as before."
"Huh?" Under the dim firelight, Rem squinted to study Aomori's features and nodded earnestly. "They look exactly the same. It's definitely him."
"Hm, I must have seen wrong. Let's follow."
"Mm."
…
In the void above the desolate jungle, Roswaal and Aomori faced each other.
"Though you likely already know, out of courtesy, I shall introduce myself." Roswaal offered an impeccable bow. "I am Roswaal L. Mathers, Margrave of the Kingdom of Lugunica."
"Klein Moretti. Just a traveler from another world passing through," Aomori replied.
"A traveler from another world? I see." Roswaal nodded in realization. "No wonder I have never heard of you."
"Never heard of me? Does the Gospel in your hand not record my existence either?"
"Oh? You even know of the Gospel. It seems you truly possess a wealth of information."
"Not that much, though coincidentally, most of it concerns you," Aomori said with a grin. "For instance, that your soul is actually Roswaal A. Mathers, who deeply loves Echidna and has gone as far as possessing his own descendants' bodies to resurrect her. Or that you only started dressing like a clown because the Warlock of Melancholy beat you to a pulp, and you use the style to remind yourself of that unforgettable hatred."
Despite being mentally prepared, Roswaal felt like his clothes had been stripped off in public when his true identity was exposed. He looked at Aomori with deep, dark eyes and asked coldly, "Who exactly are you? Why do you know such specific details?"
"You can think of it as me having my own 'Gospel,' except mine can see both the past and the future."
Another Gospel? A treasure from another world?
Roswaal understood. "Then what is your objective? You came here specifically to find me, didn't you?"
"Objective?" Aomori grinned, and a sudden surge of pressure erupted from him as black energy covered his body. "Let's talk after I've given you a beating. Looking at you makes me a bit annoyed."
"It seems my 'future self' has done many things to make you uncomfortable." Roswaal guessed the reason and flipped his hands, manifesting six orbs of magic of different colors on each side.
He possessed the Divine Protection of Sorcery, making him an extremely rare all-attribute adapter capable of mastering all six elements of magic. Currently, only he and Echidna are known to possess such talent. It was likely for this reason that Echidna took him as her disciple.
After over four hundred years of meticulous study, Roswaal's strength had reached the pinnacle; he was one of the strongest beings on the continent. A Reinhard who refused to draw the Dragon Sword or the young Ram would likely not be his match. He even held a high chance of victory against the Warlock of Melancholy of old.
Therefore, he felt no fear toward Aomori's challenge. Furthermore, he intended to use every ounce of his skill to defeat Aomori. He knew that for two parties seeking cooperation, a display of power was a means to claim the dominant position.
If they weren't aiming for cooperation, who would be foolish enough to reveal their trump cards? Regarding this mysterious traveler, Roswaal was unwilling to escalate the conflict. For him, resurrecting Echidna was the highest priority. As long as someone didn't interfere with that, anyone could be an ally.
And in this partnership, whoever was stronger held the greater voice!
"Klein, show me the wonders of another world!"
"As you wish."
As soon as he finished speaking, Aomori teleported beside Roswaal. His rigid fist was like a dragon emerging from the sea, reaching Roswaal's face in an instant. Against a mage, closing the distance was the natural course of action.
Space magic? Roswaal's mind remained as calm as still water. His body drifted backward at high speed as he waved his hands, firing twelve rainbow-colored orbs.
Aomori's fist was faster than Roswaal's retreat, but a multicolored shield suddenly blocked his path. While he shattered it, his speed was uncontrollably reduced for a split second, allowing Roswaal to pull away.
Aomori smirked, and before the rainbow orbs could hit him, he vanished again.
Space magic without restrictions? Roswaal's pupils shrank. His body instinctively swerved in another direction, narrowly dodging a mid-air elbow strike. He drifted in an irregular pattern, constantly evading Aomori's pursuit.
However, with his vast combat experience, Roswaal was not idle. During the evasion, he had already left behind a trail of rainbow orbs. Once the sky was filled with flickering lights, Roswaal charged into the cluster of orbs and slammed his hands together.
"Come! Let's see if you can escape a battlefield rigged with explosives!"
"Starlight: Eternal Light!"
Every rainbow orb detonated simultaneously. The sky turned as bright as day, completely dominated by seven-colored light. Every cloud was vaporized.
…
Inside the Forbidden Library, Aomori suddenly raised an eyebrow. Beatrice caught the change in his expression. She huffed and said, "What now? Are you dissatisfied with Betty?"
"No, just a strange memory flooded into my head," Aomori said with a smile. "Roswaal... he's actually quite strong."
"You've had contact with him? He is indeed very strong. Among all the generations of Roswaal, he is the most outstanding."
"We are in contact right now. However, I shouldn't need to step in personally."
"???" Beatrice was utterly confused. "Don't say such nonsensical things to Betty."
"Heh, it's nothing. Let's get back to the books."
"Hey! Don't keep patting Betty's head!"
"Don't you like it?"
"Like my foot!"
…
In the void, Roswaal panted slightly. Looking at the empty surroundings, he muttered to himself, "Dead? That seems unlikely."
"That Klein who calls himself an inter-world traveler never showed a hint of urgency throughout the fight. He allowed me to set up the battlefield, which clearly means he has no fear. And..."
When the massive explosion occurred, a strange ripple of Yin Magic had caught his attention. He didn't have much time to think before his eyes narrowed, spotting six identical men surrounding him.
"I see. Clones," Roswaal said with a look of great interest. "An exquisite concept. Is this a magic of your own creation?"
"While I played a decisive role, I created it by standing on the shoulders of giants," Aomori shrugged. "This is the result of combining a wondrous technique from another world with the magic of this one."
"A technique from another world? Marvelous!" Roswaal spoke with fanatical fervor. "I love unknown magic like this the most. After our battle is over, could you tell me about it? I will, of course, provide compensation."
"Sure, but let me give you a beating to vent my frustration first," said another Aomori.
"Heh, you look down on me enough to only send clones?"
"If my main body appeared, you wouldn't have a single chance of winning." Yet another Aomori wagged his finger. "Choose: a duel or a gang-up."
Roswaal looked at the ill-intentioned Aomoris and a bitter smile touched his lips. "A gang-up. Let's get this over with quickly."
"Fine. You get the first move." The six Aomoris crossed their arms, quietly waiting for his performance.
"Heh, how arrogant," Roswaal chuckled, not refusing.
One clone had already been a headache; now there were six. Roswaal prepared for the worst, though he didn't believe he would necessarily lose.
This kind of magic must have a flaw, otherwise, he would be invincible. If I find it, I can secure victory. Did the previous clone disappear because it took explosive damage, or for another reason?
Energy depletion? Time limit? Or something else? Many possibilities flashed through his mind, but he couldn't verify them one by one in the heat of battle. He decided to solve the problem with overwhelming force.
As a world-renowned Grand Mage, Roswaal had his pride. He would not surrender easily. He stopped holding back and decided to go all out.
First, he created a resilient defense. Roswaal cast six-attribute magic in sequence, layering a thick magical shield around his body.
Then, he looked at the Aomoris and said, "My teacher once used a single spell to annihilate a Silver Dragon tribe of over a hundred members. Today, I can cast that same spell. I shall show you the most beautiful magic in this world."
"Sure. Come on, start your performance." The Aomoris didn't seem to mind, remaining confidently suspended in place without interfering with his preparations.
With his internal mana surging wildly, Roswaal raised both hands toward the sky and laughed, "Klein, if you ever fail one day, it will surely be due to your arrogance!"
"Al Shario!"
The Aomoris followed him in looking up. As soon as the words left his lips, shimmering stars appeared in the sky. In their vision, the starlight grew larger and larger, falling at an unimaginable speed.
Countless points of light blanketed the entire sky. A split second later, heaven and earth shattered.
The forest below suffered a calamity. It was completely decimated by the falling light, the very soil plowed over multiple times until nothing of its former self remained. The intense seismic waves even spread to the retreating Oni tribesmen, leaving many in a state of alarm.
As the leader, Aomori's expression didn't change as he urged everyone to move faster. "If we don't hurry, we might get caught up in that terrifying battle over there."
Faced with Aomori's warning, the Chief had no choice but to take it seriously, urging the clansmen to pick up the pace.
"The Mana over there... it's completely disordered," Ram thought, her heart heavy with gravity.
…
"Is it my victory?" Having used such a move, Roswaal had consumed a significant amount of mana.
The six Aomoris from before were nowhere to be found, presumably wiped out by the magic. Just as a smug smile began to form on his face, a fist suddenly punched through all his magical shields and landed squarely on his cheek, sending him flying.
Drops of blood sprayed onto the ground.
Aomori blew on his fist and said with a smile, "Ah, that felt good."