CHAPTER 59………………………………………
No Discount
Thud— Thud— Thud— Thud—
The ground didn’t just tremble—it heaved.
Through the dense forest, the shadow of a massive troll began to emerge.
One, two, three…
“F-Five?!”
Günther, counting with trembling fingers, screamed out.
His face had gone ghost-white, shaking like a leaf.
“T-This… this doesn’t make sense! What the hell is going on?!”
“Do trolls usually move in packs like that?”
“No.”
At Ronan’s question, I glanced back and said quietly,
“Normally, they don’t.”
Just yesterday, everyone had been eager to charge into battle against monsters—
but now, as if nailed to the ground, not one of them moved a single step.
Hartmund and Roger, who’d been shouting orders until their throats nearly tore, had fallen silent.
Both of them were staring at me with sticky, calculating gazes.
“Looks like someone’s been up to something,” Ronan muttered.
“Yeah. Seems that way,” I replied with a small laugh.
“What a waste of effort.”
They weren’t the only ones staring at me.
There was another gaze that had been fixed on me long before this—
Syrina.
I’d take her curious, clear eyes over those filthy, scheming ones any day.
She didn’t seem the least bit interested in how many trolls there were.
Her steady eyes never wavered as they followed me.
“Th-th-th-there!” Günther’s entire body was shaking now as he pointed toward the trolls.
“Gobloids! They’re coming too!”
Sure enough, beyond the fog, dozens of gobloids were charging toward us.
Gyalararara—!
They looked different from yesterday—wild, frenzied.
“Wh-what’s wrong with their eyes?!”
“Looks like they’ve gone rabid. Otherwise, they wouldn’t all attack from one side. Yesterday, they were smart enough to try flanking us…”
“They probably used some kind of drug or spell. Don’t overthink it.”
Yeah. Someone’s really pulling strings here.
“Are… are we gonna be okay?! Huh?!”
Unlike us, Günther’s voice was on the verge of tears.
“M-maybe we should call for reinforcements—”
The hired soldiers from the Vinehelm family were in no better shape.
They all stared at me as if begging for salvation.
“Hold on.”
I peeled Günther off and walked forward, slowly.
“I’m thinking.”
“Thinking?! What the hell is there to think about right now?!”
He wasn’t wrong—it was a problem.
Syrina could see my mana.
Until we reach Icecrown and find the Dragon Heart, I have to keep pretending to be a Quad Chain mage.
That means only using magic within that level.
So—mid-tier magic at best.
But that’s not nearly enough to handle this many monsters.
If I widen the area, the trolls will just regenerate.
If I increase the power, it won’t hit all the gobloids.
Then there’s only one option…
“<Wrath of the Sky, awaken, O lightning—pierce my enemies.>”
Time to use synergy stacking.
“<Lightning Spear!>”
A 2nd Circle offensive lightning spell.
Crackle.
Lightning gathered in my palm, compressing tighter and tighter.
Like flicking a marble, I pressed my thumb and middle finger together, pinning the crackling sphere between them.
A small, yellow orb of light shimmered between my fingertips.
“”
“”
“”
I skipped the incantations and layered the spells one after another.
Crackle, crackle.
The orb grew darker—burning black, like a cloud soaking up moisture before a storm.
Inside the charring sphere, lightning writhed quietly.
Gyalararara—!
Gwooooo—!
As the trolls and gobloids charged, I lifted my fingers toward them.
Like snapping a marble at the head of the lead troll—
Snap.
A barrage of lightning spears flew forward.
They were terrified.
Watching the blonde man standing still, Hartmund and Roger both thought the same thing.
He was pretending to be calm, but the truth was clear—
he was paralyzed with fear.
And who could blame him?
The number of monsters was far beyond anything we’d expected.
Even with two more allies, there was no way to handle it.
Five trolls alone—
It would take all of Roger’s Craster soldiers to bring them down,
and even the Stuvan family’s elite would suffer heavy losses.
“There are more monsters than expected. We should assist him—”
“…Lady Syrina?”
Roger and Hartmund glanced over, but Syrina didn’t hear them.
She was staring at the blonde man, entranced.
“Lightning…”
Her white pupils slit vertically, revealing the sharp gaze of a dragon.
“Lightning is striking…”
She murmured unconsciously.
No one else could see it, but in her eyes, it was clear as day—
the blue mana that rippled like water within his heart,
now surging violently between his fingertips.
As if he were holding a tiny storm in his hand.
“…It’s coming.”
Her lips parted slightly as she watched him raise his hand.
And when he snapped his fingers—
KRA-KA-BOOM!
A blinding bolt of lightning split the heavens.
“Wh-what the—?!”
“What is that?!”
Roger and Hartmund froze, eyes wide.
From Gold’s fingertips, the lightning lanced out—
blasting away the top half of a troll’s head.
The troll’s body swayed, headless, before crashing down onto the gobloids below.
But before it even hit the ground—
KRAK-BOOM! KRAK-BOOM! KZZZ-ZZZZT!
Thunder roared again and again as lightning rained across the battlefield.
Every flash erased another piece of a monster.
One bolt pierced a troll’s chest.
Another severed a gobloid’s arm.
KRAKA-KRAKA-KRAK!
A troll’s shoulder exploded. Another’s knee shattered.
Some gobloids were blown apart—two, three at a time.
Every creature struck or grazed by the lightning turned black and fell.
Pure, unrelenting speed—like the lightning itself.
“This… this can’t be real…”
“Good gods…”
“He’s insane…”
The soldiers whispered in awe, dumbstruck.
One man’s magic was overwhelming dozens of monsters.
“What… what is he?”
“What kind of spell is that?!”
Even Hartmund and Roger were frozen in fear as the storm raged.
Only one person wasn’t afraid.
Syrina.
Her eyes held not fear—but reverence.
KRAK!
The final bolt struck the last standing troll straight on the crown of its head.
Guuhhh…
It groaned weakly, knees buckling, before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Smoke rose from its charred body as it stared blankly up at the sky.
The flashing ceased. The thunder faded.
Silence fell over the entire Grimghar Forest.
Not a sound—just the smell of ozone and burnt flesh.
Everyone held their breath, staring at the blonde man standing alone before the blackened corpses.
Even I had to admit—I was a little tired.
“Phew…”
I exhaled, slowly calming the mana still humming in my Circles.
Woommm…
As the energy settled, I turned around.
“Hmm?”
Of course—they were all staring at me.
But their eyes were different now.
Not like the eyes of comrades back in Icerock.
Fear. Terror.
They were looking at me like I was the monster.
Well, fair enough.
Whatever enchantments they had carved into themselves,
none of them could ever produce this kind of power.
For some, this might’ve been the first time they’d ever seen such a spell.
Lightning Spear itself isn’t a big deal,
but layering it for synergy is incredibly difficult.
Lightning forms and dissipates in an instant—
containing it is the first challenge.
Those who rely on engraved magic can’t even sense mana’s flow properly,
so that alone makes it nearly impossible.
Even if they could somehow stabilize it, stacking multiple spells—
that’s the second hurdle.
Their engravings might let them cast faster than I can chant,
but their mana reserves are far smaller.
Circle mages circulate mana efficiently;
engravers just consume it.
By the time they recharge, their spell structures collapse.
Even if they overcame all that—
could they ever produce this kind of power?
No.
Not in a million years.
Right now, to them, I must look less like a man—
and more like a catastrophe.
The moment our eyes met, they all looked away.
Hartmund, who prided himself on his strength.
Arrogant Roger, always picking fights.
The ever-belligerent Drake.
Even Barro, who’d been watching cautiously.
Every noble. Every soldier.
They all averted their eyes or bowed their heads.
I couldn’t help but laugh softly.
The only one who didn’t look away—
was Syrina Ice-Maker,
the woman with a dragon’s eyes.
“It was real, huh…” Günther murmured.
He couldn’t look at me either—but for a different reason.
“Ah…”
He stepped past me, staring at the burned monsters.
“One, two, three…”
He counted them with shaking hands before letting out a strangled squeak.
“S-say… any chance of a discount?”
I burst out laughing.
So in the end, Günther feared poverty more than my magic.
But fair’s fair.
“There’s no discount,” I said, grinning. “However…”
“…However?” he asked hopefully.
I held out my hand.
“Mana stone.”
“…What?”
“One mana stone from a troll. We’ll call it even.”
“But that’s… that’s nothing…”
There were nearly a hundred monsters lying dead.
Mana stones from trolls weren’t particularly valuable.
He knew that—but still hesitated, torn by regret.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to.”
“Wh-who said I didn’t?!”
When I started to withdraw my hand, he scrambled to pull out a stone.
“Did I say no?” he muttered, handing it over reluctantly.
I smacked his hand lightly and took it.
“Thank you, dear employer.”
Günther looked like he might cry as he glanced over the battlefield.
“…Think we’ll find any more mana stones?”
