Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 133: Assassin’s Focus

CH133 Assassin’s Focus

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”Special Warfare Spell: Heaven’s Punishment!”

Suddenly, the lightning within the dark clouds coalesced—and shot down in a single, massive bolt.

Smiling faintly, Alex looked up at the dark sky and the incoming strike.

A golden glimmer sparked at the edges of his crimson-red pupils.

Deep within his Mindspace, the OmniRune Core stirred.

And immediately—something changed.

The bolt of lightning meant for Alex shifted.

Boom!

Under the stunned gazes of the audience—and Viscount Lars himself—the massive lightning bolt veered off target...

...and struck the armoured knight instead.

[A.N: This is what happens when you wear metallic armour in a lightning storm. *shrugs*]

”That was actually not a bad spell,” Alex said calmly. ”You just need better aim.”

He began walking forward—slowly, deliberately—toward the dumbfounded Viscount Lars.

The old mage stood frozen.

He couldn’t understand what had just happened.

’No! This isn’t the time for reflection—I need to end this brat now!’ Viscount Lars forced his focus back.

Alex’s eyes flashed slightly.

’Old ginger’s got bite... he recovered quickly,’ Alex noted. Then he smirked. ’But still, old man, you’ve already lost.’

”Heaven’s Punishment!” Viscount Lars roared again.

...

Nothing happened.

’Huh?’

”Heaven’s Punishment!”

”Heaven’s Punishment!!”

”Heaven’s Punishment!!!”

No matter how many times he invoked it... the spell didn’t activate.

’Why?! There’s more than enough ambient mana for a follow-up round! Why won’t it fire?!’

Despair crept into his chest.

He had poured his entire mana reserve into casting that spell. It was an all-or-nothing gamble.

And now that it had failed—he had nothing left to resist with.

His eyes turned toward Alex.

The youth was still walking. Calm, slow steps, his posture relaxed, confident—certain that no further attack would come from above, even though the dark cloud still rumbled overhead.

Then it hit him.

Realisation flickered in the old man’s weary eyes.

”You... how...?”

Alex stopped walking.

”Oh? You finally realised?” he said. ”How, you ask...? Simple.”

He smiled.

”I’m a mage.”

Those three words sent a ripple of gasps through the crowd.

They had forgotten.

After all the melee combat, after the wristblades and battle arts, everyone had started seeing him as a warrior.

But Alex Fury... was a mage.

Suddenly, it made sense.

It made too much sense for him to be able to mysteriously stop a spell.

As for the how behind what he’d done, very few present truly understood magic—let alone its deeper mechanisms.

Even Viscount Lars didn’t seem to fully grasp it.

Alex saw the confusion on his face—and shook his head.

”No wonder you’re stuck at peak Elite. You’re a frog in a well,” he said, taunting, before explaining.

”When a lesser mage casts a spell of the same affinity as a superior mage, that spell can be hijacked by the superior caster—recognized by the laws of magic as the higher authority. That is called—”

Viscount Lars spoke before he could finish.

”...Spell Stealing...”

[A.N: My head’s blank at the moment. I can’t think of a better name for this technique. Feel free to suggest one—maybe it’ll spark something better.]

”Exactly,” Alex confirmed.

’But how... how is this possible?’ Lars thought. ’I’m a peak Elite. He’s an early Intermediate. How could he possibly be a better mage than me?!’

He was unwilling to believe it.

It meant his sixty-plus years of studying magic couldn’t match the few years this brat had spent on the path.

It was a brutal, undeniable rejection of everything he had dedicated his life to.

How could he accept it?

”How...? How can this be possible?! This is impossible!!”

His voice cracked.

He sounded like a man on the edge of mental breakdown.

Deep within Alex’s eyes, shimmering beneath the shadow of his hood, one could glimpse a cruel satisfaction at the mental collapse of his opponent.

He decided to break the final shred of stability in the old man’s mind.

”Allow me to show you the difference between us.”

Alex raised his hands.

Unseen to all others, the OmniRune Core responded from within his Mindspace—altering the formation of the spell known as Heaven’s Punishment.

”In your hands, it is called Heaven’s Punishment. But in mine... it shall become something else.”

Gazing coldly at Viscount Lars, Alex spoke in a voice laced with chilling finality—

”Heaven’s Fury!”

RUMBLE!!

A deafening roar of thunder burst from the storm clouds above.

Viscount Lars looked up—eyes wide with horror.

Under his terrified gaze, the lightning energy forming above was far, far greater than the spell he had originally cast.

And then—

BOOM!!!!

A colossal bolt of lightning slammed down from the heavens.

Viscount Lars was not even given the dignity of a scream.

He was instantly reduced to ash.

The crowd was struck silent—caught between awe and fear.

Because what they had just witnessed... wasn’t just a more powerful version of the same spell.

No.

While Heaven’s Punishment had been a thick lightning bolt—one could still describe it as a bolt.

But Heaven’s Fury...

That wasn’t a bolt.

That was a pillar of divine wrath crashing down from the sky.

It was as though the Heavens themselves had deemed that a simple strike wasn’t enough.

As if they had decided to bring down a celestial rod instead—a rod of judgment to erase Viscount Lars Fury’s very existence.

Nothing remained of the man.

Not ash. Not bone.

Only a fifteen-metre wide crater, where once stood the old mage of the Family Council.

Alex Fury calmly removed his hood with both hands, revealing his face to the arena for the first time since the duel began.

Earlier, he had shaved his beard—for the first time in years—revealing a face that reflected his true age.

The face that emerged was unmistakably that of a young man in his mid-teens...

And it bore such an uncanny resemblance to Earl Drake Fury that those who knew the Earl in his youth might have believed the man had reversed his age—if they hadn’t just seen him seated at the highest podium.

Alex’s voice rang out with absolute clarity.

”My name is Alex Fury. I claim victory in this duel. And by the laws of the Fury Family, I proclaim the dissolution of the Family Council.”

He paused.

Then his tone deepened—authoritative and fierce.

”Let today serve as a warning. To all who bear the Furor Bloodline—and even to those who don’t: the Fury Family is a house where power makes the rules. Only those with strength have the right to hold power.”

”You keep what you kill. You hold what you can defend. And you speak only when you have the might to back it up. That... is the Fury way.”

”You are free men and women. If our ways do not suit you—then you are free to leave. But if you choose to stay, then you shall obey these laws.”

Then he raised his voice and chanted:

”Ex Furore Victoria, Sanguine Honorem, Virtute Furor.”

(From Fury, Victory. Honour in Blood. Fury through Strength.)

As if summoned by an unspoken command, the soldiers of the Fury Family—across all branches—raised their voices and echoed the family creed behind him:

”Ex Furore Victoria, Sanguine Honorem, Virtute Furor!”

”Ex Furore Victoria, Sanguine Honorem, Virtute Furor!!”

”Ex Furore Victoria, Sanguine Honorem, Virtute Furor!!!”

**