Before he could move, he heard it—the whistle of something cutting through the air.
Instinct roared. Malik twisted his body just as a barrage of ice spears had reached him.
He barely managed to dodge, but one sliced past his shoulder, another skimming his ribs. The impact sent a violent shudder through his frame, cold biting into his flesh.
Malik blinked, his eyes now glowing gold.
‘Sahir… Ice element. This is it.’
Of course. The fucker had been waiting for this moment.
A fucker that he knew. A fucker that began his last tragedy.
“Ah… man.”
Malik’s lips curled back.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
He kicked off the ground, fire flaring from his hands.
The burst propelled him forward like a rocket, closing the gap between him and his now-visible attacker nearly in an instant.
He swung his dark red sword in a wide arc—
Whoosh!
—but the Sahir moved fast.
A wall of ice had erupted between them, forcing Malik to pull back just before impact.
The moment he hesitated, his opponent retaliated.
SHHHRRRAKKK!
The ice wall shattered into dozens of sharp shards, flying straight for him.
Malik jumped back and twisted midair like it was second nature, contorting his body.
Just as he landed hard on the ground, sliding back from the force, his curved sword flicked out, slicing through incoming ice, flames roaring almost in a protective barrier around him.
Gaining an uninterrupted second to breathe, Malik finally took a solid look at the Sahir.
He was a man cloaked in white robes standing beside a boulder.
A staff of blue, adorned with runes and crystalized ice, glinted in his hands.
His eyes—an unnatural pale blue—locked onto Malik’s.
“You shouldn’t be here… it’s a mistake.”
The Sahir’s voice was detached as if he wasn’t just seconds away from death.
“Yeah? And who decides that? You, Ice Fucker?”
“Ice Fucker” didn’t answer. He simply raised his staff.
Around them, the air turned frigid. A snowstorm howled to life. Ice bloomed.
In turn, the ground froze, creeping toward Malik’s feet incredibly fast.
Staring at the incoming attack, Malik didn’t flinch.
“Bad choice.”
Fire exploded from his hands, propelling him off the ground.
He shot through the air, twisting mid-leap, his sword swinging down in a burning crescent.
The Sahir met him midair, a pillar of ice shooting him forward.
Ice clashed against fire.
Staff against sword.
A shockwave blasted outward from the impact, kicking up a storm of ice and embers.
They moved fast. Blade and staff clashing, their elements roaring against each other, fire melting ice, ice hardening against flame.
Malik’s body blurred through the area, his fire hands igniting to launch him in unpredictable directions.
He twisted, flipped, and shot forward like a flaming arrow, cutting through the air with speed.
The Sahir kept up but he quickly began to struggle.
His movements became jerky, a second too slow.
Malik saw it. Took advantage of it.
The next time they clashed, Malik feigned an overhead strike.
The Sahir raised his staff to block—
“Fall…”
—but Malik twisted, shifting midair.
His free hand snapped forward, flames igniting in his palm.
“Once more.”
A golden blast slammed into the Sahir’s chest at point-blank range.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The man screamed, body hurling back like a ragdoll.
He hit the ground hard, rolling, his life snuffed out, his robe catching fire.
Not knowing that, Malik continued to move and landed on the Sahir’s stomach.
Both his boots pierced through the fucker, reaching stone.
The fight was over.
Malik looked down and sighed.
He got a bit too excited and ruined his clothes.
Well, whatever, he could get it cleaned up later.
‘…Now, where are you?’
He looked to the right, scanning the area.
‘Hm.’
There, in the distance, a small dust cloud kicked up.
It seemed that while they had fought, the bastard ran.
Cute little masterminds like him always did the same thing—plot, scheme, throw others into the fire, and when it got too hot?
They ran.
Malik wasn’t letting him.
His body moved before his mind did—a push of Aether into his legs, a snap of concentrated flame. He launched forward, closing the gap in an instant.
CRACK!
Malik’s shoulder slammed into the bastard’s back, breaking it on impact and sending them both crashing to the ground.
The camouflage shattered, flickering out as they tumbled through dust and gravel, rolling over each other in a mess of limbs and curses.
“Fuck—! Get off me, you—!”
Malik barely heard it.
He was already moving, already on top of him.
The bastard squirmed, fought, and kicked up dirt, but Malik didn’t give a damn.
His hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of hair, and yanked his head back, hard.
“Ack!”
A strangled yell tore from the man’s throat as Malik forced him to meet his eyes.
“You—! You made a mistake!”
After repeating his guard’s words, the bastard tried to swallow his tongue—literally.
“Oh, don’t even try that shit.”
Before he could clench his jaw shut, Malik shoved his free hand straight into his mouth, fingers prying past teeth, past his pathetic attempts to twist away.
“You wanna choke?”
His fingers pushed deeper, past the bastard’s tongue, pressing down his throat, cutting off his air.
“Then choke on this.”
The man’s eyes bulged, his entire body spasming beneath him, hands clawing uselessly at Malik’s wrist.
“…Where the Hell do you think you were running to, huh?!”
Malik leaned in, teeth bared.
“Tell me.”
A knee to the ribs, a sickening crack, and the man coughed hard, his spit dirtying Malik’s hand.
“You’re not dying easy… I won’t let you.”
Malik pulled his hand back, returning breath to the bastard.
“You know…”
He shook his head as if in disappointment.
“I’ve recently come to realize that we Magi can take quite a beating.”
The man wheezed, sweat pouring down his temples.
His pale eyes flickered with desperation, darting around for an escape that didn’t exist.
Malik tilted his head, watching, amused. He let the silence drag—let the man taste the fear that was coming, let it settle deep into his bones. Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire
Then, he leaned down, just close enough for the man to only see his golden eyes.
“And I’ve also realized that it’s quite uncomfortable to have your heart touched.”
The man’s eyes widened.
Realization dawned too late.
Malik’s hand shot forward, fingers curling into a claw, and then—
Squelch!
He shoved it straight through the man’s chest.
Flesh parted, ribs cracked, blood spilled over Malik’s forearm.
The man let out a strangled, broken noise—not quite a scream, not quite a gasp.
Just pain. Just pure, raw agony.
Malik’s fingers curled, brushing against something that pulsed beneath his touch.
The man convulsed beneath him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Found it.”
Malik grinned.
“Let’s see here…”
Tiny flames flickered at his fingertips, licking against the man’s heart, just enough heat to make him feel it. Just enough pain to make him wish for death.
The man’s entire body seized, a strangled, gurgled sob ripping from his throat.
Malik hummed, pressing just a little more, feeling the heart hammering, fluttering like a dying bird.
“Talk if you want to die.”
The man choked, blood dribbling from his lips.
“P-P-Please…”
Malik twisted his fingers.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”