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(Re:Zero) Warlock of Fascination Chapter 6: Sword-Castor's Strength
🕑 Added 2025-05-10 05:50:17 +0000 UTCChapter 6: Sword-Castor’s Strength
Magic is made up of six elements.
Fire—which covers temperature.
Water—which covers life and healing.
Wind—which functions outside the bodies of living things.
Earth—which functions inside the bodies of living things.
Yin—which covers debuffs.
And finally, Yang, responsible for handling buffs.
Of the six, Yang is by far the least utilized application of Magic, since the buffs were heavily susceptible to the caster’s mental state, Mana usage, and various other factors. Therefore making it an unreliable power source, its potency could slip through the crevices of one’s fingers like sand at a moment’s notice.
However, it was because of this very fact that someone who possessed an affinity for Yang Magic could conjure it in its most primal form without any prior basic magical training, their emotions alone were capable of drawing out the Yang from their body.
Was it in any way a good idea to use Magic so recklessly? No, not at all.
It was incredibly stressful on one’s Gate. A type of invisible pseudo-organ that acted as a portal for Mana to pass through and be stored in the Od.
Overusing Magic could lead to one’s Gate being damaged, which could further escalate to a dangerous condition called Mana Poisoning. Forcing Mana to course through your body without a proper incarnation, such as Jiwald for Yang, most certainly placed a lot of stress on the Gate.
But as Reinhard’s Divine Blessing of Magical Cellophane, which he totally hadn’t just received out of the blue informed him, Castor was exceptionally gifted when it came to Magic.
Not only were his Mana reserves excessively deep, as if he had an ocean of it stored within his body, his Gate had an unnatural level of resistance like it were made out of adamantium. Capable of passing a near limitless amount of Mana through it without issue, comparable to the likes of the Kingdom’s Head Court Mage.
“Haha! This is much more like it!” Castor had a broad, uncharacteristic grin as he stretched his neck from side to side. “A fight isn’t fun unless your opponent's parameters can equal yours, wouldn’t you agree? Miss Bowel Hunter.”
Castor’s voice was no longer talking to him in his head. His body was surrounded by a bright, blinding gold radiance—the same went for the lit-up circles around his irises.
Right now, he felt good.
Really good, as if all the worry and stress had been soothingly massaged out of him.
The open wound on his forearm rapidly began to close, the amount of Yang Magic coursing through his body buffing his natural regeneration.
Of course, if he had actually used a proper Yang spell dedicated towards the task, not only would it have been more effective, but it would’ve consumed a far lower amount of Mana.
I can feel it, something’s fused inside me. It has something to do with my “Authority”, but now isn’t the time to worry about that. Whatever I’ve activated, it doesn’t feel like it’s going to last forever, I’ll have to act with haste.
There was nothing more he wanted to do than fight, his instincts were practically screaming at him to indulge in the thrill of battle as much as possible—he didn’t understand why or how his mind had been instilled with such feelings, but they were there nonetheless.
And it was too late for him to repress them.
They were wide awake, and they were an integral part of him, whether he wanted them to be or not.
As long as I don't look in Reinhard's direction while I'm fighting her—I won't have to worry about getting flashbanged mid-battle.
How hard could it be?
“Fufufu, you can talk a big game all you like, boy. I can tell you don’t have a clue as to what you’re doing with all that Yang surging through you.” Elsa twirled her Kukuri, pulling out a second one from within her cloak and dual-wielding them. “However, if you’re convinced boorishly letting it run wild against me will suffice, then I’ll happily invite you to blade dance with me. I do wish to see what the entrails of someone with as much Mana as you look like.”
“Castor? Are you sure about this?” Reinhard watched Castor’s back with uncertainty, he was confident in his ability to dispatch Elsa within naught more than a few movements, but the bookworm seemed intent on fighting her himself.
Granted, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in seeing how someone from beyond the Great Waterfall engaged in battle.
“Of course I’m sure, I’m not so narrow-minded as to forbid my pursuit of knowledge from going beyond the confines of literature.”
So much for not being a man of violence.
I don’t actually have any fighting techniques—sure, I’ve read a few books on them here and there—but I’m not so naive as to believe they can be applied practically without any prior training, especially not in a world apparently detached from the limits of the human body on Earth.
“What kind of man would I be to reject a dance invitation from a woman as stunning as yourself?” Castor taunted her with his hand, beckoning her to make the first move.
If there was one thing he was good at, it was predicting an opponent’s movements thanks to Mark of the Scribe, putting him at an advantage as long as he remained on the defensive, if he so much as dared to even dabble in an offensive approach with his current prowess—there was no doubt that Elsa would turn him into a fine plate of sashimi.
Swoosh!
Elsa lowered her body, lunging forward like an arrow that had just been let loose.
Mark of the Scribe has gotten stronger thanks to this “Yang” thing I’ve awakened—I can still track her movements!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
She unleashed a flurry of mighty, precise strikes centered around his abdomen. Forcing Castor to mind his footing as he guarded against her slashes while moving backwards.
If his feet were tangled against any of the many pieces of furniture in the Loot House, Elsa would get an opening from which he more likely than not wouldn’t be able to defend himself.
“I see, so that’s how you're fighting me.” Elsa abruptly ended her onslaught, leaping backwards like an Olympic gymnast and gracefully landing on one of the tables. “It’d be a bit boring if we just stood there exchanging blows all day, so allow me to spice things up a bit for the sake of our pleasure.”
Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!
Elsa darted around the Loot House, creating a “zone” around Castor that threatened to rip him to shreds if he was brave enough to take a step in any direction—constantly moving in an attempt to make it harder for Castor to predict where she would next strike.
This isn’t good! My eyes are beginning to falter, I’ve overestimated the power of the Mark!
However, he quickly realized something.
Upon awakening his Yang Magic, all of his physical attributes had gotten marginally stronger, including the reading ability of Mark of the Scribe.
Couldn’t he intensify that buffing effect even further?
Elsa had said it herself after all, the way he was using his Yang was boorish, he was simply letting it run wild.
So what if he could focus the power? Redirect more of it towards his eyes to push Mark of the Scribe’s power beyond what it was currently capable of?
I have to act fast! Don’t hesitate Castor! Hesitation is defeat!
He could see “currents” running through his body, which were undoubtedly part of the strength helping him keep up with Elsa.
This was the flow of Mana itself, something only people fortunate enough to have specific mutations could view—for example, the Yellow Eye that the Dragon Kingdom’s Head Court Mage possessed, or those with the Divine Blessing of Sorcery.
As fate would have it, Mark of the Scribe was also capable of viewing this flow. Putting Castor’s innate Mana Manipulation ability on a whole different level, if he were to actually receive proper training, controlling it as if it were his own hands and feet wasn’t out of the question.
Swoosh!
Elsa pushed her feet against the Loot House’s roof, using it as a springboard to propel herself downward, her Kukuri primed in a thrusting motion toward Castor’s scalp.
As much as she’d rather gouge out his bowels, their brief exchange was more than enough to tell an experienced fighter like herself that targeting the same spot over and over again was only making things easier for Castor to predict her attacks.
If she wanted to get rid of him and move on to fighting the Sword Saint, she needed to change things up.
“Gotcha!”
“Wha—!”
Much to her astonishment, Castor managed to side-step her attempt, grabbing onto her wrist and squeezing down on it with all his might—his eyes basically overflowing like waterfalls with Yang Magic.
“Why so surprised? You’re the one who so graciously informed me that I was misusing my power, so I corrected myself.” He snickered, his usual, bleak attitude nowhere to be seen.
But Elsa quickly regained her calm.
“My goodness, you really don’t understand a thing do you? It’s a shame, if you were a little more experienced then maybe you would’ve been worth my genuine attention.”
Before Castor could take advantage of the brief window of opportunity, Elsa clasped onto his wrist as well, shocking him once he experienced the full strength of her superhuman physique.
Crash!
She spun around, using her momentum to send him flying into the Loot House’s front wall, the impact causing it to burst apart as a chunk of saliva jettisoned out of his mouth, the Yang Magic keeping his spine from collapsing.
“Cough! Cough! That hurt!” He chuckled dryly, his back against the dirt path of the slums.
So much for all the “we’re stronger” talk! I just got my ass handed to me! Hahaha!
He deactivated his Yang Magic, confident that Reinhard would take over from this point onward. Even if he could physically continue battling Elsa, there wasn’t much use in it anymore.
“Of course we lost. Do you think fighting ability just manifests out of thin air? No. You have to earn it. This was the first step.”
Then why not just say that? Why did you try to convince me we were stronger than her?
“The point wasn’t for you to win.”
Then what was the point?
“It was for you to have fun. It’s important that you enjoy battle. You’ll never obtain all the knowledge this world has to offer like you want to without the ability to fight. The more something interests you. The quicker you learn it. Remember? That’s why I’m here. You had fun didn’t you?”
Fun? From fighting? That’s ridiculous—
“Castor!” A familiar voice interrupted his train of thought, stemming from further down the slums’ path.
“Oh, you’re here.” Castor tilted his head backwards, watching as Subaru and Emilia sprinted over towards him. “Mind helping me up?”
“Are you alright? What happened to you?” Subaru rushed over to him, putting Castor’s arm around his shoulder as the bookworm hauled himself to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Castor looked at Emilia, “We found the person who stole her insignia. However, it was a commissioned job, so we decided to wait for the person responsible for hiring her to steal it in the first place in order to investigate the matter further.” He pointed at the Loot House, his usual more serene demeanor having returned. “We thought about negotiating with her—but she started attacking us the second we mentioned returning it back to its owner.”
“Wait, you got beat up by a woman?” Subaru pressed his lips together, withholding a chuckle.
“I’d like to see you go fight her, she managed to throw my entire body weight around as if I were lighter than a feather.” He scoffed, jabbing Subaru in the shoulder. “Anyway, Reinhard’s fighting her now—so it’s probably best to just sit back and let him do his thing.” Castor dusted the dirt off his clothing.
“Eh? Should we really just wait and watch? Shouldn’t we try to help him out?” Subaru inquired, having not witnessed the supernova-like glow around Reinhard like Castor did.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” Emilia shook her head, “Regardless of who the assailant is, Sir Reinhard is more than capable of defeating them.”
I hope he isn’t the type to dawdle around and showboat, going this long without having a book in my hands is making me feel like I’m having withdrawals!
