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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Cowardly Asel (1)
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Asel was spending another hellish day today. He was deeply regretting that he couldn't refuse his friends' urging. He should have made some excuse like he was sick, but it was always like this.
"You should've! Brought the! Money! Then you! Wouldn't be! Getting beat!"
"I-I really don't have any money!"
As payment, Asel had to watch the shepherd boy in the middle of the group get pummeled. The scrawny kid had curled up into a ball, getting beaten like he was some kind of ball.
"Then how are you paying for your sick mom's medicine, huh?!"
"Th-that's...!"
The reason for the beating was absurd. Recently, his mother's condition had worsened, and most of his expenses went toward medicine. His gang, mostly orphans themselves, showed no sympathy for the boy's filial piety.
"Hey, you could live just fine without some mom to raise you, like me. Why cling to a bitch who's gonna croak soon anyway, huh?"
"Think of it as fronting the cash for her coffin. Doesn't that make you feel better?"
Even after hearing such unforgivable insults, the boy couldn't say a word. Asel clenched his fists and muttered,
"Idiot."
It was directed at himself as much as the boy. The reason scrawny, stick-thin Asel wasn't a target for the delinquents was solely his talent. He lacked the courage to endure beatings or bullying.
Asel prayed. Stopping them was impossible anyway, so he hoped the barbaric violence would end quickly. He hoped his name wouldn't be called.
But life never goes as planned.
"Hey, Asel! This punk wants a taste of your magic, it seems?"
The leader, Hans, called out to him, panting. At that moment, all the delinquents stopped what they were doing and turned toward Asel.
Asel felt like a heavy weight had dropped onto his heart. He nodded, keeping a straight face.
"Hiiik! M-Magic! No! Please! Spare me that!"
"Yeah, Asel! Make him think dying would be better!"
"Mage-nim! Mage-nim! Have mercy!"
The shepherd scrambled to his knees. Blood streamed from his nose as he clutched at Asel's pant leg. Asel squeezed his eyes shut and chanted the spell.
"Invisible Hand"
⟨ Invisible Hand ⟩
The shepherd's body began to float up slowly.
"Aaaah! No!"
An invisible hand gripped the shepherd and lifted him. Cheers erupted from all around. His body, rising slowly, soon reached a height where falling would cause serious injury. But the delinquents only egged Asel on more.
"Kekeke, it's still amazing no matter how many times I see it. Hang him from the treetop!"
"Put me down! Please! Let me down!"
Asel twisted his lips. He cursed his pathetic talent. If he'd known it would come to this, he never would have bought that magic book from the peddler as a joke. If he hadn't been born in this backwater, could he have used it more usefully?
His hands trembled. If he lost focus, the shepherd would drop. His magic was still feeble and unstable. Asel screamed silently. Someone, please stop this!
"Alright, put him down."
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cut in from behind.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Y-You!"
The group fell silent in an instant, like cold water had been poured on them. Even Hans, who wouldn't flinch at getting pelted with stones on the road, was dumbfounded.
What was happening? Asel barely turned his head to look back. The lawless man of Nimbuton stood there.
Ronan spoke again.
"I said put him down."
Asel felt chills crawl up his spine. There was something in that dry voice that made people shrink.
Without realizing it, he began lowering the shepherd slowly. Seeing this, Hans grabbed Asel's shoulder hard.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?"
"Uh, huh?"
"That punk says put him down, so you do? You think I'm a pushover?"
"N-No, that's not... "
"Raise him back up."
Asel swallowed hard. The shepherd's body began rising again. Ronan let out a hollow laugh at the sight. Hans strode forward and stopped right in front of Ronan's nose.
"Ronan, long time no see. Right?"
"Yeah, Hans. Really been a while."
"Why are you suddenly acting up? Just stay crushed like always."
"Your syphilis-ridden sweet potato face is still the same. Was it this bad?"
"...You fucking bastard, don't you know your place?"
Hans, much taller, looked down at Ronan. In fact, Hans was three years older than Ronan.
The other boys held their breath, watching the two under the tense atmosphere.
Originally, Ronan's position in Nimbuton was like a natural disaster that took a bystander attitude. He would crush anyone who picked a fight until they couldn't walk or stand, but he never intervened in others' quarrels.
"Don't act tough just because we scrapped a bit back then. You think you'd win if we fought again?"
In contrast, Hans was like a wild bull charging at anyone. He'd pick fights even if he wasn't in a bad mood, and punch anyone who irked him. Of course, only those weaker than him.
Sometimes disasters happened because he couldn't gauge his opponent's level properly. A prime example was his horribly ugly hooked nose, courtesy of Ronan from a quarrel three years ago.
But now the situation had changed. A fine longsword hung at Hans's waist, a reward for serving a mercenary band all last winter.
Shing!
Hans drew his sword. Ronan whistled in admiration, rounding his mouth.
"Oh, a sword."
"Why are you lot just standing there?"
Hans's voice was as intimidating as his build. The delinquents quickly surrounded the two. Asel couldn't move because he had to maintain the spell.
"Kneel and beg now. I'll let it slide once."
"You know how to swing it? Thinking waving a stick around is the same as this would be a mistake..."
Swoosh!
Hans swung the sword vertically. Ronan easily dodged by twisting his shoulder. It was messier than expected, but the form was decent.
"...I was gonna make you a one-armed cripple, but you're lucky."
"Yeah."
Lucky. Ronan meant it sincerely.
Unlike his ruined strength and stamina, his dynamic vision and reaction speed seemed intact. Of course, more data was needed since the opponent was Hans trash.
"Too late to beg now. If you wanna leave, leave an ear or your nose behind."
Ronan didn't answer. His attention had already shifted back to Asel. The short boy was straining to keep the flailing shepherd from falling.
'My memory was right. That punk's a mage...'
The boys interpreted Ronan's silence as fear and chimed in.
"It's been years since then anyway. Got scared for nothing."
"Don't worry about the weight and beg properly, cripple."
Even for Ronan, facing a real sword with a slightly thicker stick than a bed slat was impossible. Moreover, Hans trained with the sword daily. It wasn't for good reasons, but he was undeniably hardworking.
With the atmosphere he wanted set, strength entered Hans's shoulders.
"If you croak by any chance, I'll take good care of your sister. Thinking about kneading that tight ass already makes me..."
Shreek!
A whistle-like sound rang out.
Thud. Something round and flat fell between them.
"Huh?"
No one saw what happened. Ronan's stick, slung over his shoulder, was now on the ground.
Sensing something off, Hans looked down. A severed ear lay on his shoe.
"Wha?... Wh-what?"
Soon, burning pain assaulted his ear. Hans dropped his sword and clutched where his ear had been. Red blood gushed through his fingers.
"Aaaaagh! Fuck! My ear!"
"Hey."
Bam! Ronan kicked Hans hard in the gut. Hans forgot the pain of his severed ear and toppled over. The impact reached his organs, making it hard to breathe.
"Heugh...!"
"You orphan fuck."
He grabbed Hans's hair and yanked him up roughly. A sinister voice leaked from Ronan's now humorless mouth.
"What'd you say about my sister's ass?"
"Kill! Kill me!!"
Hans, barely regaining his senses, screamed through spit and tears. The hesitating boys charged one by one, yelling. Ronan slammed Hans's face into the ground and muttered,
"Kids without parents always show it. I don't have 'em either, though."
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"Hm? You put him down?"
"Y-Yeah."
By the time he finished dealing with the delinquents and returned, Asel had already lowered the shepherd. Ronan grumbled as he wiped his pants.
"Phew, I'm definitely weaker. Getting tired from this much."
Asel clamped his mouth shut. Weaker?
The incident lasting about five minutes was too one-sided to call a fight. The overwhelming violence resembled an eagle wreaking havoc in a chicken coop.
The shepherd's bread hat from under the tree rolled on the ground. Ronan picked it up, dusted off the dirt, and placed it on the boy's head.
"Go home."
"Um, I-I... that is..."
"Don't worry about those retards. Now even your little bro could beat 'em."
Ronan thumbed at the sprawled delinquents behind him. Every one had broken limbs and was groaning.
"Oh, take this too."
Ronan removed the shepherd's hat again and stuffed a handful of coins inside. Money from the delinquents' pockets. The shepherd said in a trembling voice,
"Th-This is too much."
"It's fine. I already took my cut."
"St-Still..."
"Wanna get beat till you shit your pants?"
"Thankyouthankyou!!"
The shepherd bowed repeatedly and ran down the hill. Asel nibbled his nails, glancing at Ronan. Finally, Ronan spoke.
"Hey, dwarf."
"Y-Yes? Me?"
"Who else is here? Name's Meshy or something?"
"A-Asel."
"Same difference. Anyway, you a guy, right?"
"Huh? Uh, y-yeah..."
"You look like a girl. Way more than I remember."
It wasn't flattery; he really did. With red hair down to his nape and deep double eyelids, it was hard to tell if he was a boy or girl. So short, Adeshan could probably rest her chest on his head.
"Uh, um... s-sorry..."
"Whatever. Use that thing on me."
"Huh? What...?"
"Telekinesis magic. The thing you used to lift that kid."
"I-I can't do that!"
Asel waved his hands frantically. Ronan showed his scabbed knuckles and said,
"I won't complain if you drop me while lifting. Just try."
"No, it's dangerous, and... I probably can't even lift you. I never properly learned it..."
"Do it."
Asel sighed deeply. Words wouldn't work. He looked at Ronan and chanted the spell. A hand of mana appeared and gripped Ronan.
"Invisible Hand"
⟨ Invisible Hand ⟩
"Oh."
Soon, his body began to float up slowly. Much heavier than the shepherd, it took more effort.
"Sh-Should I lower you now?"
"Keep going."
It felt similar to the aerial battle in his past life. During the final battle, a mastered telekinesis mage had moved him, allowing him to sever Ahayute's wings.
'Mages aren't rare. Telekinesis mages are rarer.'
Most mages handled only one attribute, except a few. Telekinesis was an extremely rare ability.
Ronan felt proud of himself for recalling his past life memory upon seeing Asel's face. He remembered him using telekinesis to steal from stalls.
A punk he wouldn't have spared an ant's turd for in his past life was a raw gem of talent. Ronan didn't want to miss this unexpected luck.
Ronan's body had risen to about his own height. Asel sweated profusely, focusing on the spell.
'Come to think of it, I should test this too.'
Shing! Suddenly, Ronan drew his sword. It was Hans's sword, now unusable for swinging. Asel flinched and tried to release the spell, but Ronan stopped him.
"No, keep lifting."
It made no sense. Asel followed orders anyway. Ronan lightly slashed where the telekinesis acted. It felt like cutting water, transmitted through his hand.
At the same time, the force holding him vanished.
"Huh?!"
Thud. Asel fell on his butt. Ronan landed lightly and sighed in relief.
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