Merlin’s plan was risky and rather tricky.
Unlike during his battle with the Ice Wyverns, he had no foothold in the air, and launching himself so far up meant his landing would be anything but desirable. Despite his Resilience above level fifty, it wasn’t yet at the point where he was free from every and all afflictions. A rough landing would mean he broke almost all the bones in his body, maybe just a few if he cut himself some slack. But the worst of landings would mean he snapped his neck and died.
But he had done so regardless of the possibility of everything going wrong, because it was the only way he would be able to take in the whole battlefield at once, and gain ample time to deconstruct whatever enchantment the dragonpriest of the village of Stein had placed upon the Raubtier.
He would cross the bridge of his landing when the time came—which wasn’t exactly so far away.
Gravity tugged at Merlin, reaching for every single part of his body, and pulled him down against his will. He plummeted. The wind slapped his face and ruffled his hair. But their rough edges slipped past his body like water over a streamlined object. Effect of the battle suit he had on. And that made it impossible for the air to disrupt his actions.
Merlin wasted no other second. Mana flowed to his fingertips as Reader Mage listened to his command. The air stilled and wriggled around him, calling the attention of Chief Rivale to his presence, despite his utter confusion as to what was wrong with the Raubtier, oblivious to Blue’s presence.
[Perk: Reader Mage Activated]
[Analyzing spell…]
[Analysis complete]
[Spell: Atman Enchantment.
Category: Advanced, Tier II
Spell Wielder: Schwarz, the Dragonpriest.
Spell Description: An enchantment fueled by the ambient mana of Xéros, commanded by the tongue of a Chosen Priest to control the soul of a beast created purely from the mana of Xéros.]
[Deconstructing Process: Soul enchantments are bound by two rules. Only one soul can be controlled at a time. And, the priest’s tongue must always remain active, reshaping the enchantment over and over to prevent the soul from slipping out of their control. However, a barrier has been placed over the priest’s tongue. Deconstruct the spell by destroying the barrier and tampering with the priest’s speech.]
[Deconstruct?]
[Yes?/No?]
Yes…
Merlin’s mana shot out of his body, heading for Schwarz, the dragonpriest, a streak of blue faster than the eye could follow.
Schwarz failed to realize what was happening, until Merlin’s mana slapped onto his mouth like goo, seeping into the invisible barrier that had covered it.
The dragonpriest’s focus crumbled. He reached for his mouth trying to peel off Merlin’s mana, but it was all to no avail.
Merlin’s Intelligence Attribute was at level thirty-three, and from the vague knowledge the System had imbued him with, he could deconstruct the Advanced tier I spells of A-Class Mages and B-Class Mages with a bit of problems. But can effectively deal with Advanced Tier II spells of C-Class and D-Class Mages with ease.
The System hadn’t warned him of any possible problems to himself at this moment; in other words, Schwarz was at most the equivalent of a C-Class Mage. In other words, he was quite weak in comparison to those Merlin had involved himself with.
The barrier around the dragonpriest’s mouth melted off like it had been doused by acid, leaving the priest’s tongue unprotected. Merlin instantly shot a whip of mana in Schwarz’s direction and gripped his tongue with it, preventing the priest from quickly putting up another enchantment.
Then, his focus returned to his fall.
How was he to get past this hurdle now?
His mind raced. He thought of using the Raubtier as a cushion for landing, but he wouldn’t be mad to expect the monster to be as hard as rock considering its size and the destruction it could cause. Also, there was no fur on its body.
The other option he could think of was breaking off his fall by using the Raubtier as a swing. He would wrap a whip around the Raubtier’s neck and alter his flight.
That was the best option.
However, before Merlin could go ahead with his plan, the air around him chilled. Flakes surrounded him, condensed, and before he could blink, his back landed on something smooth and extremely slippery.
Merlin glanced down to see a large slope of ice beneath him. He burst into laughter.
What would he do without Blue?
The sandy plains came into closer view. At that moment, Merlin shifted on the slope of ice and stood on his feet, balancing himself on it as he slid down. Upon reaching the sand, he jumped off and broke his speed by diving into a roll. Immediately he jumped to his feet, tightened his grip around the whip he held Schwarz’s tongue with and dashed toward the priest. On his way, he reached for one of the dead warriors of Stein and pulled out the spear embedded in his chest. The weapon broke immediately. As a result of Blue having enfeebled it the previous night, Merlin realized. But he didn’t need the whole weapon. He scooped up the spearhead before it could fall to the ground, activated [Flash Step] and crossed the plains in an instant.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Schwarz shrank back as Merlin bobbed up before him. His flight instinct had kicked in. But Merlin had no intention of letting the thorn escape. He activated [Mana Spring], but this time not below his feet. Merlin raised the hand clutching the spearhead, and behind his fist manifested a wave of blue, swirling until it was a spring.
Schwarz mumbled. A futile attempt at trying to form words. The look in the dragonpriest’s eyes made it known that it was mercy he sought. But a quick reminder of what their tribe had done to their brother tribe, discarded any brief thought Merlin might have had to allow mercy.
“This is war,” Merlin mumbled, his gaze strangely consuming. “You must have been prepared to die.”
Schwarz’s eyes swole. Merlin pulled his whip and the dragonpriest jerked forward. The mana spring exploded, and Merlin’s hand shot forward with a blistering pace that rattled his muscles. The spearhead plunged into Schwarz’s throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he clutched his neck and shuddered backward, gurgling.
Merlin looked away, his heart pounding intensely, as the dragonpriest dropped to the ground, dead.
His eyes found Chief Rivale next, and the dragonchief was anything but pleased.
[Otherworlder!!] he roared. But his words only stopped there because the enchantment had broken.
The Raubtier screeched in fury as its senses returned to it, and the battlefield rumbled. It shook, having noticed the unwanted presence on it back, and Chief Rivale was not so foolish as to remain on the beast. He immediately jumped off, and Merlin didn’t hesitate to take that chance.
Merlin grabbed a second spear from the dead body of the other warrior he had killed, and bolted through the gap beneath the Raubtier.
Chief Rivale, unguarded, landed on the sand. But before he could straighten on his feet, Merlin appeared and grabbed him from behind, tightening an arm around his neck.
Chief Rivale froze in Merlin’s grasp, and so did the war on the other end of the plains.
[The chief has been caught!] a warrior of Stein exclaimed, torn between focusing his attention on the rampaging Raubtier or his chief.
Merlin was no different. He was close to the monster, after all, but that was hardly what troubled him. He was uncertain if he could kill the beast, and was too cautious to try. The problem was the System had stated that he needed to kill it. He had never disobeyed the System during a quest before, but he would have to see how that would turn out now. Because… the Raubtier didn’t seem like it cared about attacking them.
The beast glared at the battlefield, a roar dancing at the tip of its lips. Everyone shuddered in fear, exhausted, wounded, on both sides of the battle.
Maybe the beast saw that—that the Drachens posed no threat. And that killing them all would serve to prove nothing but further ruin the first floor of the Tower and the world its master had created. Because it snorted and turned around in what seemed to be caged fury before trodding away leaving the battlefield behind.
Merlin heaved a deep sigh at that as Blue came to settle on the ground beside his feet, exhausted.
He turned back to what was left of the warriors in the battle.
“I have your chief!” he proclaimed, and his words were translated into the language of the Drachens.
Chief Rivale in particular flinched in his hold and said, [You speak our tongue?]
Merlin glanced at the chief. “I’m not of this world.”
Chief Rivale let those words digest, then he gasped. [Blessed?]
Merlin said nothing more on the topic and turned his attention to the gaping warriors, pushing the spear in his hand further towards Chief Rivale’s mid section as a threat.
“This war is over,” he recited. “I have killed your priest and freed the Raubtier from his enchantment. And, as you can see, your chief has been taken hostage by me. There’s no point in letting the battle continue. But if you insist, I will plunge this spear I hold into him without even the slightest hesitance.”
The warriors gasped. They made to shuffle forward, and Merlin responded by piercing Chief Rivale’s side. The chief cried out as a stream of black blood trickled out. The warriors froze.
“Drop your weapons and surrender,” Merlin added. “This is the last time I will say it.”
The warriors glanced at themselves, considering the decision, and that sparked a reaction from Chief Rivale.
[Do not surrender, you fools!] he roared. [They will kill us all either way. Better we die fighting than die like mere animals! Fight! And rescue me!]
“Unwise,” Merlin argued. “You lot have no reason to lay down your lives for the foolishness of your chief any longer. The forest on the first floor won’t last for long, and you all know that.”
Merlin hesitated to say the next bit he had in his mind, unsure if he had such an authority. But the situation didn’t call for hesitance. The only one who had to die at this point was Chief Rivale. He didn’t want any more innocent lives to be lost.
“If you lay down your weapons now,” he continued. “The village of Blatt will take you in as refugees of war.” Gasps echoed through the battlefield, most from the warriors of Stein, and some from the warriors of Blatt. But Merlin didn’t let that seize his hands. “You will not be killed. You are all brothers drawn from Xéros. You should not have to kill yourselves. Enough is enough.”
[He lies!] Chief Rivale shouted. [He—]
Merlin covered the chief’s mouth and pierced his spear even deeper. Chief Rivale fell to his knees in pain, screaming muffledly, Merlin’s hand tightening even more over his mouth.
“Make your choices,” Merlin added. “Now is the time. Will you fight and kill yourselves, or do the wise thing and take your chances of becoming one with your brothers and ascending to the second floor? If you end up dying anyway, wouldn’t it be better to die knowing you did your very best to survive, with your own family?”
The gazes of the warriors softened. They went quiet for a few seconds, and as their chins lowered to their chests, their spears left their hands and fell to the sand below their feet.
Chief Rivale’s eyes widened in disbelief as the battlefield was covered in silence, and Merlin could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

