Magician in Type-Moon

Page 451

Matouchi shrugged slightly.

"While this is not a serious statement, the point of gambling is not about winning or losing, but about whether to gamble or not."

Matouchi opened the door, and the music stopped.

An unbelievable figure stood in the corridor before me.

The other person was completely wrapped in ethnic-style fabrics. Because his hands were gloved and his face was veiled, there was no exposed skin.

Azel the sorcerer.

The guy who should lose to Alette in the second game.

"What's up?"

When Matouchi asked a question from behind, Ezel raised his hand.

The hand became blurry.

The body acts faster than the mind.

Amazing sparks and sounds rang out one after another.

It was the sparks from metal colliding with metal, and the continuous sound of friction.

Chainsaw.

Azel's right arm twisted in the air, as if some alien metallic creature was clinging to his bones.

Immediately, the outline of the arm disintegrated and reshaped, forming a buzzing chainsaw, with sparks flying as the blades snapped together.

Snap—Snap snap snap snap!

The razor-like blades spun at high speed, tearing the air with a sharp whistling sound that echoed in the quiet corridor.

"It seems they're not here to negotiate."

Matou Ike spoke softly, his gaze sweeping over Aizel's entire body. His movements, posture, and even the rhythm of his breathing exuded an ominous calm.

This guy wasn't an assassin hastily dispatched; he was a hunter who had made thorough preparations.

"Shouldn't those who have already lost simply wait for the curtain to fall?"

Aizel did not respond. His left foot shifted slightly, the chainsaw's teeth snapped shut, and the black fabric fluttered wildly, like a beast poised to pounce.

Then, he moved.

There were no commands, no hesitation, only naked killing intent.

boom!

The chainsaw left a blinding trail of fire as it scraped the ground, and Aizel's figure suddenly closed in, the blade aimed straight for Matou Ike's chest!

Matouchi remained motionless.

He just stood there, watching quietly as Aizer swung the chainsaw.

The next instant, the spiral shaft began to rotate.

There were no spells or elaborate magic rituals, just a pure, invisible "twist".

The air seemed to be crushed, emitting a low, sickening hum, and even the floor trembled slightly.

Creak——!

Immediately afterwards, Azel's shoulder was twisted and crushed by an irresistible force.

boom!

Sparks flew as the metal prosthetic limb exploded, and the ruptured tubing flew through the air in an arc.

The broken interior of the prosthetic limb revealed a complex mechanical structure, resembling a miniature alchemy workshop that had been forcibly dissected.

Not only the prosthetic limb, but even the deep muscles of the shoulder were replaced by some kind of unnatural device, and a substance that looked like crystal shards was scattered on the ground.

This is not magic.

—It is a purely mechanical creation.

—There are no magic circuits, no trace of incantation.

—So, he's not a magician at all.

So, who is the creator?

At the other end of the corridor, a heavy figure slowly approached.

A wandering alchemist wearing a helmet held a huge pistol.

A familiar scent.

It is the Origin Missile.

No, it's not simply the Origin Bomb.

Rather, it is something that has been elevated to the level of a Noble Phantasm.

Matou Ike experienced a true life-or-death crisis that she hadn't felt in a long time.

It cannot be hit.

Absolutely not!

.........

"What happened to that guy?"

"Alette asked."

Before the final showdown, the gamblers sat around the round table for the third time.

The four dragon coins lay quietly on the table, unmoved.

Alette gently swirled the wine in her glass, the dark liquid leaving faint streaks on the glass's surface.

Isilid, a cryptic smile playing on his lips, tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, as if playing a silent melody.

Bai Ruolong sat upright in her seat, her eyes slightly lowered, her knuckles unconsciously tapping the armrest.

Van Fem adjusted his tall top hat, his expression unreadable.

Only——

The seats at Matou Pond were empty.

"The time hasn't come yet."

The dealer said calmly, his tone completely flat.

She didn't even glance at her watch. As a combination of a Dead Apostle and a puppet, her internal clock never failed, running with the precision of a star.

"Oh dear, if he were to abstain, that would be exactly what we wanted!"

Isilid's face lit up with joy, and he clapped his hands lightly, smiling as if he had truly been looking forward to this moment.

Bai Ruolong and Van Fem simply narrowed their eyes slightly, offering no comment.

"One minute has passed."

The dealer's voice was neither hurried nor slow, like the precise swing of a pendulum.

"Thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven..."

The cold, hard numbers echoed in the room, and the four gamblers remained silent.

Like the tolling of a doomsday clock, devoid of any human emotion, it filled everyone's eardrums.

"Fifteen, fourteen..."

at this time--

A sudden, piercing sound of footsteps shattered the silence.

Everyone's eyes immediately focused on the door.

Click——

The door was pushed open, and the light illuminated a familiar figure.

"Sorry, it seems I was almost late."

Matou Ike bowed his head in apology and slowly stepped into the room.

"Oh, that's great! I was just thinking how boring it would be if you just abstained."

Isilid smiled and spread his hands, his tone more like teasing than his previous joy, a complete 180-degree change in attitude that felt perfectly natural.

Beside him, Alette raised her eyebrows slightly, her gaze fixed on Matou Ike.

"What's wrong? You don't seem like the kind of guy who shows up at the exact moment."

Van Fem's gaze slowly swept across the room, finally landing on Matou Ike behind him, where he frowned.

"You're alone? Where's Miss Medea?"

"only myself."

The moment those words were spoken, Bai Ruolong's eyebrows twitched sharply as she stared at Matou Ike, as if trying to discern something from his face.

"What happened? You didn't bring her with you. It's like a boxer not bringing his assistant."

Bai Ruolong's tone did not reveal any hostility; in fact, it carried a hint of concern.

However, Matouike did not answer.

He simply walked slowly to the empty seat, sat down, and then spoke again.

"I will participate in the final battle alone."

Alette narrowed her eyes, Isilid's smile deepened, and Bai Ruolong gazed at him quietly, as if weighing something.

Van Fem lowered his head in thought, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, as if he were considering something.

"But you..."

Bai Ruolong was about to say something when the dealer interrupted her without hesitation.

"Since everyone's here, then there's no problem."