Magic Is Learned For Nothing [EN]: Chapter 83

Drayger, Here I Am 2

The overwhelming aura swept in, filling the room instantly.

“Legion, my darling!”

“Legion, how do I look in this dress? I dressed up like this to impress you!”

“Legion, why are you so late?”

“I thought you weren’t coming, and I was about to leave. I was bored to death.”

A considerable number of nobles flocked around the man.

Even the Crown Prince couldn’t command this kind of attention.

Terrier’s face twisted in a grimace.

*That* bastard again.

Nothing ever goes right when that guy shows up.

Even the women are all fawning over him.

Terrier, who considered himself the most handsome man present, felt a knot of resentment tighten in his gut. He pushed his way toward Legion.

Legion turned to face Terrier.

“Hey!”

Terrier barked, his tone immediately confrontational. Legion’s handsome brow furrowed slightly.

“Aaaah! My darling looks handsome even when he frowns!” one woman gushed.

“Who is that dog-like man?” another whispered.

“I don’t know. Compared to my darling, he’s less than a firefly crushed by moonlight,” a third declared.

The women swayed, seemingly entranced.

The women’s words stung Terrier’s ears. Enraged, he snapped at them.

“Which bitch called me a dog-like man!”

The women’s expressions soured. They glared at Terrier.

“Did you just call us bitches?” one of them challenged.

“That dog-like man did indeed,” another confirmed, her voice dripping with disdain.

* * *

Legion studied the dog-like man before him. He vaguely recalled seeing him in the barracks, but he couldn’t be sure.

Judging by his inability to place him, he probably wasn’t important.

In which case, he could simply ignore him.

But—

Why is this guy suddenly picking a fight with me?

What? You’re challenging me to a duel?

Why?

Have we even met before?

So, he stated plainly, “No.”

Terrier was taken aback. He had never heard of someone refusing a duel. Wasn’t a duel a matter of honor between men?

“Draw your sword! I will expose you for who you really are in front of these ladies.”

Legion was dumbfounded.

This guy…

He really has a face you just want to punch.

His name is Terrier?

What a fitting name. [A terrier is a type of dog known for its tenacity and sometimes aggressive behavior.]

People Terrier. Isn’t that a bulldog? He even *looks* like a bulldog.

It’s a name you’ll never forget once you hear it. It sticks in your mind, nice.

Bulldog.

He looks incredibly greasy. Oil practically drips off him. Do you ever just hate someone for no reason? Have you ever been walking down the street and suddenly felt the urge to punch a stranger, knocking them unconscious?

Generally, don’t you experience something like that once or twice in life?

That’s how it is now.

Looking at that bulldog’s face, he felt an uncontrollable urge to punch him.

Even if that guy hadn’t specifically challenged him to a duel, he might have been carried out after being beaten by someone else.

Well, now that it’s come to this.

Let’s at least provide some entertainment for the ladies.

“Draw your sword!”

Alright, alright. I’ll draw it myself, so don’t shout so loud.

The bulldog drew his sword.

He yelled at Legion.

“In the name of justice, I will not forgive you!”

What kind of bullshit is that?

Then, in the name of… well, *not* justice, I will not forgive you either.

Legion took out his steel staff. How should he thoroughly humiliate this guy?

-Before that, *you’re* about to get trampled. Are you even aware?

Mark, my dear. [Mark is likely a familiar spirit or magical entity that communicates with Legion.]

Even in this moment, you’re worried about me.

-In my opinion, you’re likely to be found dead somewhere around here within a week.

Curse me, you bastard.

-I’m serious. After getting to know you, I think this is the most dangerous situation you’ve been in. This place is in the clutches of Count Persimmon. Stop this nonsense right now and run away.

It’s okay for now.

Legion answered, dodging the sword swung by the bulldog. The bulldog looked genuinely surprised. How dare you dodge my sword!

Ah, that guy is so noisy.

-What do you mean by ‘it’s okay’?

I bluffed that I left a will. I also bluffed that I would blow up the mine if it was known that I died.

-Ah, so at least they won’t kill you *here*?

Of course. I’m a poisonous frog. If they eat me here, the Count will also be in trouble. He won’t get what he wants either. You know, the Count has many enemies. If a weakness is exposed, countless enemies will rush in.

-The longer you stay here, the safer you are? How ironic.

Isn’t it? But that’s also temporary.

Count Persimmon will use any means to get me out of here. The moment I leave here, he will reveal his true colors.

-The odds of winning…….

Yes, the real danger starts from the moment I have no choice but to leave here. The Count will definitely strike. He declared war right in front of me; there’s no way he’ll just let me go.

-The odds of winning are less than 1 percent. You can’t even hope for a miracle.

I have a lot of money. I’ll spend it all and hire a bunch of mercenaries. Wouldn’t I be able to hire about a thousand people?

-It’s useless. What’s the point of mercenaries without knights?

I see.

-First, think about how to survive. This is not the time to be so relaxed.

“Ugh! You bastard! Just get hit!”

Sweat dripped from the bulldog’s forehead. The arm holding the sword trembled.

Legion clicked his tongue, looking at the bulldog with feigned disappointment.

“Hey, are you tired after swinging your sword for 5 minutes?”

Only the sword is fancy. It even has jewels embedded in the handle. It’s as if he’s saying to the enemy, ‘I’m a noble, so hurry up and kill me and take this sword; then your family will live well for three generations.’

“Bullshit! I’ll cut you down in one go, you bastard!”

The bulldog grabbed the sword with both hands and swung it.

Because he lacked strength, the sword only spun around like a windmill. So slow and clumsy, he couldn’t even get hit if he wanted to.

Thanks to the ‘Exploding Charm’ passive skill, his overall combat power is close to 2,000, though it’s temporary. If he amplifies his magic power, it rises to around 4,000. The moment he saw the bulldog, he could tell what his overall combat power was. At most, it’s 150.

To come on stage with such skill to challenge him.

With the heart of a grandfather.

Hey, you!

*Paah!*

“Waaaaah! My darling! The best!”

“As expected of Legion!”

“Marry me! Milk-skinned Legion! Milk-skinned Legion!”

Legion waved his hand at the young ladies. The girls swooned.

Legion pleaded to the gods in his heart.

I was born in a kingdom of ugly women. How can there not be a single pretty girl in this territory?

* * *

Count Persimmon walked towards the banquet hall.

It was a more magnificent banquet than usual. The money spent far exceeded several hundred gold. Due to this large-scale… *incident*, he had no choice but to invest more money to appease the young nobles.

There is something that doesn’t make sense.

The temporary barracks made for the ‘Martial Arts Competition’ was large enough to hold 100 people. Inside, over forty young nobles all collapsed, vomiting blood.

Someone said it was because of the fish they ate for lunch.

Is that really the case?

Unless his liver was hanging outside, there was no way his personal chef would have served undercooked fish. In fact, when he grilled his personal chef [interrogated him intensely], he swore that such a thing could never have happened.

“Your Excellency, it’s true. I personally bought the freshest fish this morning. Moreover, it was cooked thoroughly, so there couldn’t have been a problem.”

Fortunately, thanks to the priests, the chef was cleared of suspicion.

The reason why the young nobles collapsed was a ‘internal energy distortion’ phenomenon. [Internal energy refers to the vital energy or life force in martial arts and cultivation traditions.]

In simple terms, they encountered a power far stronger than the internal energy they possessed.

The young nobles resisted consciously or unconsciously, and that powerful force twisted their internal energy like twisting a child’s wrist.

That means!

There was someone in the barracks with that much internal energy.

Count Persimmon shook his head.

It doesn’t make sense. Even he would find it difficult to do that. It would be possible if he gave it his all, but they didn’t meet an irreconcilable enemy in the barracks, so why would they exert their internal energy with all their might?

Then, did at least three or four people do such a thing?

Count Persimmon asked Heinz.

“How many people left the barracks?”

“Two people. Baron Legion and a large man.”

Count Persimmon recalled Baron Legion. He’s a very rude bastard. He doesn’t seem to lack skill either. But at best, he’s only skilled compared to his peers; he doesn’t have the powerful magic to sweep through the barracks.

He’s a pass.

Then, is it the big man?

“This is presumed to be his portrait. It was lying on the floor.”

Heinz handed Count Persimmon a portrait with only the face remaining and other parts torn and unidentifiable.

Count Persimmon, receiving the portrait with only the face remaining, fell into thought.

He’s very handsome, though not as much as Baron Legion.

But it was an unfamiliar face. And he looked young. Did this handsome and young man possess such powerful magic?

He couldn’t believe it.

Could he have used legendary plastic surgery magic (using plastic surgery magic can achieve the same effect as reversing aging. It is the highest level magic)?

“Do you know who he is?”

“I don’t either. But I am gathering information. I will know who he is this afternoon.”

“This afternoon. I understand. I will receive the report in the afternoon.”

“Understood.”

Baron Heinz bowed deeply.

Thus, they left the office and arrived at the banquet hall.

-Waaaaah! Darling, you’re so cool!

-Legion, my darling, look at me!

Count Persimmon and Baron Heinz stopped at the entrance of the banquet hall. The elegant music that should have been flowing out from inside was not heard.

Instead, vulgar shouts that could only be heard in the Colosseum were erupting from inside the banquet hall.

Count Persimmon looked at Baron Heinz. What is this sound?

“Th, that, I don’t know either……”

Heinz bowed his head.

He also had a frustrated expression. Unexpected things kept happening since the coming-of-age ceremony was held.

The same was true now.

Why! Why are those vulgar shouts madly heard in the banquet hall?

He hurriedly opened the door of the banquet hall.

Squeak—

The banquet hall door, which was emblazoned with the eagle symbolizing the Persimmon County, opened. Inside, an enormous heat was rising.

The nobles were surrounding someone in a circle. It seemed that a duel had broken out.

Count Persimmon’s brow furrowed involuntarily.

To go to the trouble of spending money to hold a banquet, only to have them doing this kind of thing.

The young nobles were so engrossed in the duel that they didn’t even know he had entered.

“Tsk tsk.”

Count Persimmon clicked his tongue.

“I will gather those children.”

Heinz, flustered, kicked the joints of the absent-minded servants.

“You crazy bastards! The lord has arrived. What are you spacing out about!”

Count Persimmon twisted his lips.

You crazy bastards. He put his hands behind his back and watched the banquet hall, which had been transformed in a way that was completely different from his intentions.

It seemed that he had to show these guys a hot taste [teach them a lesson].

They have no manners.

It was true that if you were too lenient, they would even try to pluck your grandfather’s beard.

He was lenient, and they seemed to think of the Count as shit.

But—

Count Persimmon felt his whole body stiffen as if struck by lightning.

Someone’s gaze, filled with magic power, had pierced his heart. He was startled.

He was wearing ‘Hitech,’ a protective gear, 365 days a year. [Hitech is likely a brand name for magical protective clothing.]

It is a thin and highly insulating garment.

It also has ample defense against magic power. Anyone with an overall combat power of less than 1,000 cannot even approach and will be crushed. It’s not a unique item, but it’s thin and easy to wear, so he uses Hitech in peacetime.

That Hitech had become useless.

The overwhelming magic power instantly pierced Hitech’s barrier and penetrated his heart.

Who on earth?

Count Persimmon slowly turned his head. Someone was sitting in his chair at the end of the banquet hall.

The moment he saw him, he immediately realized who it was.

A damn bastard he really didn’t want to see. Why is that bastard sitting there?

‘Crazy Drayger! You son of a bitch!’