Blood Magus

Zeth stood in the middle of the storage shed, facing Erza, who stood between him and the exit.

Part of him just wanted to sprint out of there and never look back. But there was no way that would work. Erza knew his face and name—if he spread word about him, Zeth would never know another peaceful day of his life. And, more importantly, it’d become basically impossible to get the drop on Garon or to kill the Blood Mage.

Plus, he had no idea how feasible doing such a thing would be. He was only now realizing just how much Erza had obfuscated his power. Sure, Zeth was able to glean some knowledge about a few of his capabilities, but he didn’t know the man’s actual Skills, what Level he was—hells, Zeth didn’t even know his Class. He was a complete enigma. If Zeth tried to run, there was a chance he’d be instantly killed.

Other than fleeing, he had two options for defense. He could somehow lead Erza back to where he’d stowed the Hellfire Circle and use it on him, then run before anyone saw it was he who did it, or he could shout and call for his demon hiding in the woods. Both involved killing Erza and running a huge risk that he’d be caught and exposed. And Zeth wasn’t ready to do either of those things just yet.

“You have some sort of magic-based Class,” Erza said. “That much is clear from everything you’ve demonstrated yourself capable of.”

Maybe Zeth could just charge at him? Erza wasn’t too muscular—at least, not compared to the workman’s physique Zeth had built up from years in the mines—and likely wouldn’t have too many Stats in his physical attributes to back him up in a fistfight. Zeth might be able to catch him off-guard if he rushed him. And even if Erza did gain the upper-hand, Zeth could always go to his last resort of just calling the demon to come and slaughter him.

He frowned. No, Erza was clearly too relaxed up-close. Even if he didn’t have high Strength or a powerful physique, the number of magic items that surrounded them would definitely include at least one object that would allow Erza to fight Zeth off. A Stat-boosting piece of clothing, or a hidden weapon, or maybe just a real bomb. Perhaps it really would be best for Zeth to call the demon right now and kill Erza before anything bad could happen. Even if the man was far more powerful than he anticipated, he was confident nobody could get in a fight with a demon and not at least be kept busy for a while, which would give Zeth time to run.

“I would certainly like to know why you would hide such a thing. Did you conceal your Class out of an abundance of caution around strangers? Because your family wouldn’t approve? Or because…” Erza looked at Zeth, “you’re the Blood Mage?”

Okay, it was officially an emergency. Scorched earth time. Zeth braced himself to shout for help and watch the demon tear him to shreds.

“…Why are you telling me all of this?” he asked.

“Isn't it obvious? I’m a businessman. I want to make a deal with you.”

“I thought you wanted to kill the Blood Mage. Who you apparently think I am.”

“There’s no reason I can’t arrange a mutually beneficial relationship between the two of us. You don’t get killed, I get to claim a bit of that mana of yours. I don’t tell Rosalie about your secret, and you don’t ask for any sort of payment for your services.”

“So you’re blackmailing me.”

“I wouldn’t say anything so extreme. Plenty of good can come from a deal that was originally made in a…coercive environment.”

Zeth sighed. It was almost not even worth calling his demon to come kill Erza. He wouldn’t have time to get into his identity-concealing outfit, which meant calling the demon with people around would result in them seeing an otherworldly beast crashing through buildings to serve at his beck and call. It would definitely expose him—exactly what Erza was threatening to do. At least if he took the man’s ‘business deal’ now, he’d be able to control when his identity was exposed. It seemed like going along with the blackmail was the technically correct play.

…But then again, Zeth really didn’t want to give this asshole what he wanted.

“I have to admit,” Zeth said, “considering who you believe me to be, I’m surprised you’re talking to me the way you are right now.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Well, I won’t claim to be an expert on these things, but from what I’ve heard, Blood Mages are quite the dangerous foe. All the rituals they can perform—flame traps, demon summonings…It seems that talking like you are could end up making you a very powerful enemy.”

Erza chuckled. “You won’t be able to threaten me. Magic is my area of expertise; I know plenty about Blood Mages. Demons are obnoxious, difficult to summon, difficult to contain creatures that are only ever used as a last resort. The idea of someone using one for something so mundane as assassinating a single man with a little bit of dirt on you is ridiculous.”

Zeth thought about the many demons he’d summoned to construct his underground base, and the way they’d been so surprised when he told them what they’d be doing. If what Erza said was true about how people normally used demonic labor, maybe their reactions were more reasonable than he thought. But why would someone see such an awesome source of power and choose not to use it at every opportunity? What, just because it was a little dangerous? Seemed like a waste.

“And those flame traps,” Erza continued, “are a joke. Sure, you can catch an unsuspecting victim off-guard and set them alight, but what if they can resist fire? What if they’re near a source of water they can use to extinguish themself? What if they simply have the mental wherewithal to spot the ritual circle on the ground in the first place? An ‘attack’ that requires your opponent to step in the exact right place after you had to spend hours preparing it isn’t an attack at all. It’s a glorified tripwire. A child could set one up—and make one that’s more deadly than your pathetic magic.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Zeth said. “I heard the Blood Mage managed to kill a fleshtaker with a single ritual circle.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Erza blinked, clearly caught off-guard. “What? A fleshtaker? How…No, you’re lying. A blatant bluff to scare me off.”

“Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you about it. Countless eye witnesses. The monster was attacking a hooded figure, and then suddenly it burst out into flames covering its body. Only took a few seconds before it keeled over.”

He shook his head. “No, no, you’re describing a Fire Ritual right now. A monster as powerful as a fleshtaker would have enough natural Endurance to easily resist a low-Level Skill like that. You clearly know nothing about how Blood Mages operate if you’re trying to make a claim as ridiculous as that.”

“Oh? Well, if I know so little about Blood Mages, then maybe I’m not one.”

“You won’t be able to convince me you’re just some random miner boy that easily. I’ve seen your capabilities. I know you’re a practiced mage. Perhaps not an educated one, but a practiced one. Clearly, you were not given proper tutoring. That is extremely common with those who take illegal Classes. You’re just some power junkie, lusting after every bit of strength that could give you the ability to exert your will upon the world. You took the first thing that presented itself to you, and now you’re facing the consequences for it. I have no sympathy for you. I took a proper, intelligent route to power. I went to three separate colleges and studied for twelve years before I even considered calling myself a mage. And then people like you come along, no discipline, no direction, no reason to do what you do, and tarnish our good reputation. It’s a joke. You are a joke. There is no possibility in my mind that you could be anything but a stupid, unguided holder of an illegal Class.”

“Seriously?” Zeth asked. “You have all this to say, all this certainty in your voice, because…What? You saw me touch a magic item? You have no evidence that I’ve done anything but hide the fact that I’ve got some sense for mana. What if I just raised my Shaping a bit, huh?”

He scoffed. “A stupid peasant boy such as yourself wouldn’t be able to do what you’ve done purely by using their raw Stats. It takes an education to learn these things. And, while the gaps in your knowledge clearly show you haven’t received a proper one, you certainly could have been provided with some knowledge from your bandit friends, or your little cabal of mages, or whoever it is you work for. There’s no other explanation for how you could be able to patch up the holes in those mana fields so quickly.”

Zeth stared at Erza. At first, he’d assumed he was arguing with a genuine intellectual force. But at this point, the man was spouting out blatant falsehoods. He’d correctly come to the conclusion that Zeth was who they were hunting, but he’d done so through completely incorrect assumptions. This whole ‘you could never do that without being told how’ thing was objectively false. Zeth hadn’t been taught how to do anything. He’d just practiced his Skills, and evidently, gotten good enough at drawing ritual circles and manipulating mana that he was able to figure out the mana fields relatively quickly.

It was almost more frustrating being caught by an idiot who was completely wrong about this stuff than being caught by someone who had genuinely found him out.

He didn’t even know how to respond. “Listen. I’m telling you the truth—I’m no Blood Mage. I don’t have any ties to bandits or cabals. I don’t know what you think you’re doing blackmailing some random—”

“Don’t even try to lie to me,” Erza said. “If you can’t come up with an actually believable explanation for what I’ve seen, then be prepared to—”

He was cut off by a crash from outside.

Zeth tensed. Was it backup? Had he called Rosalie and Alfon through some silent means? But Erza seemed confused, too, giving Zeth a suspicious look.

And then a second crash echoed out. Erza whipped around, peering out to try and find the source of the noise. “What was that?”

“...I have no idea. You should probably go check it out.”

Erza chuckled nervously. “I’m not going anywhere you tell me to go, mage.”

“I’ve told you, I’m not a mage.”

“Then how did you—”

A third crash echoed out, this time much louder.

Zeth sighed. Y’know what? Fuck it. He stepped forward. “Stop me if you want to stop me.”

After striding past Erza, who leaned back, apparently too cautious to even risk coming into physical contact with a potential Blood Mage, Zeth opened the door to the shed. It was completely empty outside, nobody around to be seen. Certainly nothing that could cause such a noise. It’d sounded almost like an entire building falling to the ground. Or, no, maybe not a building. More like…

Another crash. This time, Zeth spotted the cause. An entire tree tipped over above the tops of the others, slowly tilting to the ground as the sound of a log being torn in two echoed across the townscape.

“What the…?” he muttered, gazing at the forestline.

“Is this your doing?” Erza demanded, peering out from inside the shed.

“No,” he said. “I have no idea what’s going on. Did some lumberjack start cutting down trees where they’re not supposed to, or something? Or, no, that didn’t sound like an axe. It almost sounded like someone just pushed the tree over.”

“But what around here could…?”

Just then came another crash, this one closest out of all of them. And this time, Zeth could see the base of the tree that fell. And he could see what had knocked it over.

A gigantic beast, standing at least three times as tall as Zeth, came charging out of the treeline. It had wooly, matted fur that hung down from its body, swaying back and forth with every step and covering even its own eyes. Horns as thick as Zeth’s torso protruded from its head, curling out to either side, and tusks protruding straight out from its mouth. Every step it took shook the ground and pushed yet more trees aside to make room for its massive body.

As it came into view, charging at the town, panicked gasps and shouts started erupting out from the streets.

“What even is that?” Zeth asked.

“I-Is that a mannitor?” Erza gasped. “It’s from the Beast Realm—don’t tell me you have a portal leaking into your forests.”

“A while back there was a leak, yeah,” Zeth said.

“And the monsters weren’t cleared out already?!”

“Are you insane? We don’t have the manpower to clear out a whole forest of Second Realm monsters. All the aggressive ones took care of themselves, anyway. At least, that was what we thought.”

“Mannitors are supposed to be peaceful. They don’t even eat meat. I have no idea what could’ve scared one into stampeding like this.” He groaned in frustration. “Poor towns like these constantly find ways to piss me off.”

“Will this thing be a problem?”

“Perhaps. It’ll certainly be too tough for your town guard. Now might be a good time to show off your Blood Mage powers.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not a Blood Mage.”

“Fine. Then I’ll handle it. You can just—”

He was interrupted when another crash sounded out. Then another, and another, until an entire cacophony of chaos echoed through the town. The earth quaked beneath their feet. Zeth’s head shot back to look at the still-approaching mannitor, only to find that there wasn’t just one. Behind it came an entire herd of building-sized creatures. A pack of the monsters, at least a full dozen in number, all charging straight at them.

Erza stared at the approaching mob. “...I won’t be able to handle that.”