Page 17 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

I couldn’t let Walter come to harm while my essence coursed inside him. While only a fraction of pain he endured would affect me, the last thing I needed was for Worthless Walter getting himself killed. Once the Diabolic binding released, then I could kill him.

Fresh air had never smelled so good. The lawn of the Magus Estate wafted with Mythic residue. Unlike the aroma inside, this was untainted by the corpses.

Suddenly, that delicious smell radiated, accompanied by elemental magics crashing from all around. Lightning overhead. Flames before us. Ice springing up behind. A half dozen earth minerals lunging from beneath. I conjured a black barrier from my own Diabolic essence, absorbing the brunt of this onslaught. Weaving around the attacks, I carefully ensured Walter didn’t get struck. Lightning popped against my chest, singeing my shirt, but my skin remained unfazed.

“Hey, assholes! You realize I’ve got a hostage, right? Are you trying to kill him?”

Walter fumbled about, wriggling loose as if it’d do him any good.

A horde of Collective mages appeared, half from the sentinels posted nearby—the shield emblem on their blue blazers made that apparent. I’d seen enough of them escorting mages into the repository over the years. The other half came from the vanguard wearing dark red blazers with an emblem of a sword and dagger crossed over each other. Clearly, they’d come to instill order here at the Magus Estate. Too little, too late since just about everyone, including their Magus, had fallen.

“He won’t let me get harmed,” Walter shouted. “He’s—”

I threw him to the ground, pressing the heel of my boot against his throat. Not enough to harm him, oh how I wished I could, but enough to shut his mouth.

“You stay right here, my little damsel.” Conjuring black tendrils from the pores of my skin, I coated my forearms in sleek, black blades. Overlapping tendrils wrapped tightly along the skin of this body, enhancing the durability where summoned, but with the significant drawback that the flesh elsewhere would be a bit more vulnerable. It didn’t matter. Maybe fifty practitioners surrounded us, so I’d make quick work of them. Kill a dozen or so, injure the rest, and take Walter before they had an opportunity to regroup.

I didn’t know how much of my essence he’d absorbed. It couldn’t have been much from a sliver of glass. Still, I needed a few days, a few weeks if I were truly unfortunate—which, given this situation, clearly Walter’s horrid luck had rubbed off on me.

Vanguards drew blades of steel and iron they’d coated in saturated mana. It wouldn’t endure. Sentinels opened grimoires, writing incantations they wouldn’t finish. I’d lop off their hands first.

Cackling, I raced forward. Half the eyes barely widened in shock by the time I reached my first set of vanguard mages. I struck the blades from their hands, and their bodies moved on instinct too slowly in comparison to each swift step I took. They hadn’t registered what I’d done, where I was, how I blurred across the battlefield. Most scanned for essence they couldn’t track, some reached for a lost weapon, and none had any idea how exposed they’d left themselves.

Slashing my way across the courtyard, I relished the bloodshed sprinkling the battlefield. No deaths yet, though. Still too many mages preparing an attack in the distance. I needed to quell their magic before a single one had a chance to strike. Needed to ensure Walter didn’t blurt out the most obvious weakness I held.

For his sake and mine, I’d have to finish this and fall back quickly.

Earth erupted in front of me, blocking my strike against a frantic-faced mage. I reeled my arm back. Not only earth. The elemental shield collected metal minerals in the exact spot my blade struck, absorbing the blow. Ignoring the relieved sentinel, I scanned the field of broken bodies and mages preparing attacks. Where did the actual counter come from?

From above, an overpowering and familiar scent struck. Despite the strong citrusy cologne he saturated with mana meant to obscure it, I still recognized it. A mage with piercing blue eyes and black hair rode a broom directly toward me, channeling lightning in a single palm and speeding faster than this support tool saturated with mana should offer. This man held a different level of strength compared to the others who’d arrived. I leapt from his attack, ignoring the sentinel emblem on his blazer. Defensive guard—yeah, right. He moved with more veracity and ruthlessness than most of the vanguard warriors.

Wind gushed, shifting my balance and leaving me open. A second bolt hit me, cutting my skin. My blood splattered the grass, sizzling with an acidic burn—a Diabolic last line of defense when the body we held became injured. That, and proof our very existence was toxic to everything in this realm. Everything in every realm. Even our own.

Burying my irritation, I syphoned my essence back within and lunged at this arrogant prick. But each time I threw myself at him, he either evaded or created quick, breakable barriers through incantation or elemental power. I’d outlast him in a fight.

“Ian, stop!” Walter raced toward us, a slow-moving object on a field filled with magical projectiles.

Unleashing a blitz of erratic energy, I fired off defenses, each aimed to navigate the field and protect Walter while offering me enough contained force to withstand and finish off this Ian character. I didn’t know and didn’t care who he was to Walter; he was in my path and the best way out of the Magus Estate grounds was likely by cutting through this single opponent.

As expected, his movements became sluggish, worn, lazy even as he buffered with barriers and rock in tandem, unable to manifest either to take the brute force of my punches. It took time. Precious wasted seconds of my freedom I wouldn’t get back. But I’d have an eternity to enjoy it once I punched a hole through this guy and escaped.

“Beelzebub, stop!” Walter screamed, desperate, in a frenzy. His heart thumped so frantically, it created an echo in my chest and a lump in my throat. “Please.”

He dropped to his knees, unable to do a thing in this battle. He knew that much. Yet, the anguish in his voice commanded ferocious power.

I stopped, frozen with my fist a hairline from smashing this crummy sentinel’s head in. Dammit. Walter was in my head, literally tethered to my being, and for whatever reason, almost killing this guy evoked an emotional order—a hold he had no idea how to activate yet triggered through sheer fear.

“Stop. Just please…stop fighting.” Walter’s command coursed through my veins like acid, eating away my desire until I considered it.

“Fuck me.” I backed away, dropping my arms as Diabolic energy simmered, lowering my guard entirely.

Vanguard mages took the opportunity to summon chains through chanted incantations, each muttering their spell in unison. Cold metal coiled around my torso, tightening and binding me in place as sentinels saturated the chains with mana, strengthening them to detain me.

I glared at Walter who struggled to make sense of everything, curious eyes fluttering a hundred different directions, assessing the situation. So much for my freedom. I’d escaped that orb only to end up bound to the worst guy on the planet.

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