So, what do you think, Gray? My demon cosplay is pretty convincing, right?

Hey, don't just stare wide-eyed without saying anything. Give me some feedback.

Oh, sorry, I forgot the sword is still stuck in your throat.

It's uncomfortable, it hurts, right? Good, it should.

I deliberately pulled the sword out slowly, to clearly hear the music of the blade severing blood vessels and scraping against bone.

With the obstruction gone, a deep crimson flower of blood bloomed instantly at the wound, its rust-scented fragrance flowing into my nostrils.

Gray's handsome face twisted into a knot of fear and intense pain. His body convulsed as if electrocuted, trembling like a crushed cockroach.

Sigh, so careless. Your beautiful robe is getting all dusty.

You're so lazy, you definitely won't wash it. You'll just buy a new one, won't you?

Don't worry, I'll clean the bloodstains and dust for you. I'll wash the robe until it's good as new and store it carefully in a treasure chest.

Gray trembled, his lips quivering as he raised a finger.

Mana heeded the call, howling as it gathered at his fingertip like a vortex. Several complex, high-level runes layered, and a blinding flash of fire suddenly ignited.

Flame Spear again. Seriously.

You've learned so many runes, formed contracts with powerful spirits, yet every time you're in danger, you instinctively use the same move, even when it's not suitable.

That's why I told you to practice real combat more. Powerful mana isn't a cure-all. You're reckless and easily flustered; you need to be better prepared.

If you had listened to me honestly, you wouldn't be so easy to deal with now.

I sprinkled the prepared potion into the air. The runes constructing the Flame Spear immediately faltered, their stable form beginning to tremble.

Seizing the chance, I swung my sword twice more, severing Gray's left and right wrists in an instant. Gray let out a muffled groan, his chest heaving violently. He wanted to scream, right? But his throat was already filled with blood.

The unfinished spell instantly collapsed, the painstakingly gathered mana scattering uselessly.

My poor old friend wore a look of despair and still tried to crawl away. So disobedient.

I had no choice but to step forward and plunge my sword into his chest. I gripped the hilt tightly, savoring in detail the blade's joy at finding its prey.

This feeling... yeah, smoothly pierced the heart. Gray's eyes widened, his body stiffened, then finally lay still on the ground.

I pulled out the sword, crouched beside him, and closed the distance between us.

I stared into his moist, terrified blue eyes, stroked his gradually cooling neck, and wholeheartedly felt the life flowing out of him.

Even without his arms, even with his heart pierced, a gleam of awareness still remained in his eyes.

Mm, I know. You're not just an amazing mage; you're also an incredible coward.

Guided by these two traits, you created a powerful spell that automatically revives you after death. You've escaped death and turned the tables countless times relying on this trick.

But not today. Just stop struggling and die properly. I'll join you soon, and we can drink together then.

Look at this—my second carefully prepared potion. It doesn't have any other function; it just absolutely prevents revival.

I opened the vial, and a hazy aroma wafted out. I pinched Gray's jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Crack.

A fountain pen flew, hitting the glass vial squarely and shattering it. The clear potion spilled all over the floor, mixing with the dark pool of blood.

I tilted my head and saw Adam standing in the room, still in a throwing pose.

He's still here. I thought he would have run away by now.

"Let go of Mr. Wilson, or else..."

Annoyance.

I forged a slender ice spear and hurled it at him.

The weapon cut through the air, accurately piercing his shoulder and carrying him backward with the impact, pinning this annoying nuisance to the wall.

However, the opening was fleeting. Tiny sparks erupted from Gray's chest, and his pupils turned a bright orange.

Too late to stop. The revival spell had activated.

I hurriedly grabbed the young man who had been playing dead as bait, leaped down the stairs. Avoiding the unconscious bystanders and artifacts, I landed in the center of the first-floor platform, casually tossed the young man aside, and looked toward the workshop entrance.

There, centered on Gray, a dazzling burst of intense light erupted. Layers of flame rose from the ground, converging into a sphere.

The temperature inside the entire watchtower soared suddenly. A gale-force wind whirled at the tower's base, sweeping ancient books into the air beside me.

Oh my, still as flashy as ever. I can't fall behind either.

I used hundreds of runes to create a mold in the air, then instantly drained over half of my remaining mana, pouring it into the mold. A massive amount of energy expanded in the air. The runes neared their limit, almost on the verge of collapse.

But a gigantic ice sword, taller than a person, gradually took form. I specially added a demonic effect with a potion, making its blade radiate a brutal, malevolent aura.

After several breaths, the fireball enveloping Gray dissipated. He reappeared on the platform unscathed, but pale and panting heavily from the immense mana expenditure.

I stepped forward, pushing my physical strength to the limit, and swung the forged greatsword down at Gray. He blasted flames to his side, using the recoil to evade the attack at the last possible moment.

The greatsword cleaved through the wall like tofu, carving a gaping hole in the tower and flying out into the open air.

Believing himself safe, Gray shifted to offense. In the blink of an eye, he summoned hundreds of Flame Spears and, ignoring the bystanders near me, fired them without hesitation.

He always prioritized annihilating the enemy, rarely caring about potential collateral damage—something Alvrea often scolded him for. I actually kind of liked that about him.

But since this is just a personal grudge, having bystanders die wouldn't be fun.

I leaped into the air, drove one hand into the wall, and anchored myself like a spider. As expected, the Flame Spears instantly changed course mid-flight, all of them chasing after me.

I concentrated, predicting the trajectories of the spears, bouncing around the tower's interior like a 3D pinball.

Flame Spears continuously smashed into the walls, turning stone bricks into charcoal before vanishing. But Gray, with a casting speed far surpassing mine, replenished the ammunition non-stop, never easing the offensive, giving me no chance to remake my weapon.

Not only that, he had woven explosive magic traps around himself. If I tried to charge him directly to take his head, I'd just be incinerated in the blast, and he would win due to his powerful fire resistance.

Well done. At this rate, I'd either be caught by the Flame Spears and burned to death, or break out of the tower and escape, only to lose all means of counterattack as a short-ranged swordsman and die to long-range magic.

You must think you're about to win, right? Wearing that smug, stupid grin you think is cool.

Keep laughing. I love the look on your face the most when you're gloating and then get tripped up.

I paused on the wall, pretending exhaustion to catch my breath. Gray raised an eyebrow smugly, lifted his right hand high, and commanded the Flame Spears to unleash a volley.

His smile froze on his face.

My greatsword flew back through the hole first, cutting him in half at the waist. Blood sprayed, thoroughly dyeing his white robe red.

His upper half fell to the ground. He stared in disbelief at his severed body, his face a picture of utterly delicious despair.

The Flame Spears, losing control, weakened significantly. The explosive traps deactivated on their own. I shifted my body slightly and dodged all the attacks.

I leaped to stand before Gray, looking down at his death throes.

His entrails spilled across the floor, his broken spine exposed.

An undoubtedly fatal wound. Moreover, he no longer had enough mana to perform a second revival.

...His death is a bit too gruesome. My anger has subsided; let me fix him up a bit.

I focused, consumed mana, and carefully covered his wounds with dark ice crystals.

Two dark objects suddenly jumped into my peripheral vision. Instinctively, I forged an ice sword and sliced them apart mid-air.

The containers shattered, splashing pale blue liquid that landed on Gray's body.

Gray's mana instantly recovered, surpassing the threshold needed to perform the revival spell.

After a moment of shock, I hurriedly reached for my backup anti-revival potion.

"Uwooooooh!"

Adam charged with a roar, inexplicably wielding my old sword in his hands.

Instinctively, I gathered mana to immediately counterattack with a swing, intending to split the enemy in two—but then instantly remembered this person was my contractor and had to forcibly halt my swing mid-air.

The unreleased mana detonated inside my body, the intense pain causing my movements to falter.

So, Adam crashed into me first.

He crashed into me first. Knocked me away from Gray.

Ha... haha.

This... this utterly senseless bastardaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!