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“Three shamans standing tall on the ruins of a collapsed building. One spy leaning against a plank. And a magician wedged in between.”

With her milky white eyes, she surveyed the area. What remained in the aftermath of the sorcery was nothing but faint dust, magic power shimmering like smoke, and death.

Her blue eyes didn’t stand out with vibrant color.

The gaze fixed on the ruins resembled that of someone waking up from a deep slumber, not particularly enchanting but rather a bit hazy. At a glance, it could give off an air of gloom.

“…Is this what you did?”

Camila, after taking a look around, uttered her first words. Her gaze fell upon the shaman standing among the debris.

In response, Fatima shoved her colleague shaman aside and stepped forward, directing her attention toward the magician.

“Then what?”

“……”

Huff. The inflated chest of Fatima sank slightly.

Camila exhaled deeply, withdrawing her hand from her pocket to reply.

“I just wanted to confirm.”

With those words, her fingertips, lowered toward the ground, began to shimmer.

—

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

—

The air started to ripple. It felt like the space shimmered under the strong sunlight.

It was a premonition of power.

Frederick, gripping his pistol, struggled to speak while looking at Camila.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going to fight.”

Camila took a step forward and replied. Frederick gasped, as if taken aback by her words.

“You’re going to face a shaman? Camila, are you out of your mind?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly sane.”

“You’ve never fought before!”

Whether she couldn’t hear him or chose not to, Camila silently pressed forward, ignoring the voice calling out to her.

Fatima watched her approach.

“You’re going to fight?”

There was no answer. That silence was the answer.

The shaman began to snicker mockingly.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But what can you do all alone?”

“……”

The gazes of the two shamans met.

The shaman who once conjured a curtain of water placed his palms together and took a stance. The one who summoned a breeze approached as if to assist his injured companion, but Fatima gestured for him to stay back.

Fatima, clutching her blood-soaked abdomen, stepped onto the debris.

The sight was reminiscent of a gladiator looking down at a challenger approaching from below.

Camila moved silently toward the shaman. Since she was a magician, she hadn’t established a connection with the beastman before the battle.

Watching from above, Fatima wore a more pronounced smile.

The most crucial principle in facing a shaman was maintaining distance.

The only way to effectively and efficiently subdue a shaman was to attack from a range that kept you out of their reach. How could one not laugh at such a display? She was practically begging for death.

‘What a fool.’

Fatima muttered inwardly.

She was about to face multiple shamans without even knowing the basics of fighting them. Who does she think she is?

Crossing her fingers, she connected the tips to create a passage.

Through that formless channel flowed magic power.

The magic began to take shape along the path of her fingers, slowly completing the incantation.

Even as the sorcery was forming, Camila continued to approach.

Step by step, without a hint of hesitation.

Fatima gauged the timing of the attack based on Camila’s steps. Just a few more steps. If she came just a little closer…

Then it happened.

Camila, who had been advancing steadily, suddenly halted. It was at that moment that Fatima furrowed her brow, preparing for an attack.

Just one step. Only one step remained.

“……”

Without glancing up at the shaman glaring fiercely, Camila merely examined the area ahead of her as if looking around before entering a room.

There was nothing strange to be found on the ground reflected in her blue eyes. But a magician isn’t limited to seeing just the world as it is.

A magician sees the world through magic and wishes to grasp the truth. Her eyes were keen enough to sense something odd in the flow of magic suspended in the air.

That was why Camila cast her spell.

The air that shimmered from her fingertips gathered into a single point. A tiny red flame, resembling a minuscule bead.

Camila, having infused magic power into that tiny speck, aimed her hand toward the shaman.

She extended her index finger and bent her thumb while curling the other fingers into a fist, mimicking the shape of a pistol.

It was a playful gesture, yet her demeanor was anything but. Forming her hand into a gun shape, Camila pointed her finger at the shaman and curled her index finger.

As if pulling a trigger.

And then,

“Bang.”

A massive explosion engulfed the shamans.

—

The huge flames instantaneously filled the field of vision. The entire world turned red, like splattering paint on a white canvas.

At the moment of the explosion, everything lit up, blindingly bright, forcing my eyes shut as if pricked by needles.

“Damn…!”

The blast swept not just forward but also left and right, completely clearing the area.

Among the wreckage cleared by the flames, the only ones left unscathed were the one who caused the explosion, Camila herself, and lucky me, who happened to stand behind her.

Raising my head from the spot where I had crouched down, I shouted.

“…What was that just now?!”

“My magic.”

While I surveyed the scene, Camila unfurled her previously bent index finger and blew out a puff of air.

“I didn’t just sit around for five months.”

Having received guidance from the duke, her magic had transformed remarkably. It was evident when she smashed a horde of locusts in one hit in the village, and it showed now as well. Camila’s level was far beyond what I remembered.

“It’s not fully refined magic yet.”

You mean that wasn’t real magic? Then what the heck was that?

As I recalled the explosion that was monumental enough to cover the remains of the collapsed building, I looked at her with confusion, only to see Camila pouting her lower lip and tilting her head.

“Just a bit of improvisation? I tweaked what I learned—”

“That’s what we call application….”

If researchers working tirelessly, sacrificing their sleep to develop high-powered military sorcery, heard this moment, they would probably throw down their tools and scream, “Ugh, what the hell! Talent-sucking brats! This is just too much!” But her expression was completely calm.

Camila, speaking in a serene tone, gestured for me to remain seated as I attempted to rise.

It meant that the battle had not yet concluded.

– Kuuuuuuuh…!

The explosions sent debris flying and everything began to shake, as if an earthquake had struck.

An ominous light seeped through the tumbling concrete chunks, creating space that seemed to emerge from nowhere.

“…Earth-based sorcery.”

Camila whispered softly. Though she had once been a novice to magic, she now possessed knowledge of sorcery as well. The Duke must have taught her well.

From the colossal debris that rolled away, figures began to appear. They were shamans.

I had anticipated they would be dead from the impact, yet they were still alive and breathing.

Of course, they weren’t in normal condition.

“Cough, cough…!”

A male shaman crawled out from among the rubble, struggling to catch his breath.

Had he used some sort of sorcery in that split second? He had narrowly escaped death, but his condition was dire.

The shaman was pounding his chest, gasping for air. His breaths were ragged, sounding like someone suffocating.

I could see tendrils of mist swirling around him.

It was vapor.

The river-type shaman had drawn up groundwater to conjure a barrier just moments before the explosion hit. With the sewers all torn up, water was scattered everywhere.

However, there was one key fact the shaman had overlooked: when a liquid transforms into a gas, the free-moving particles expand.

When heat is applied, water turns into steam.

In a typical scenario, like boiling water in a pot, this wouldn’t pose any problems, but if water suddenly converts to steam, it can lead to an explosion. This phenomenon is often witnessed during volcanic eruptions, resulting in tragic incidents when vapor unexpectedly explodes and inflicts widespread damage.

Of course, Camila’s flames wouldn’t generate heat on the scale of a volcano. Perhaps more akin to splashing water onto a hot pan.

But even splashing water onto a hot pan can result in an explosion.

“Uwaah!”

The shaman screamed and began rolling on the ground in a bid to extinguish the flames clinging to his body.

The hoarse voice, the characteristic coughing, and his face, twisted from burns—all of that gave me a clear picture of his state. That guy. He had smoke inhalation injuries.

A patient suffering from inhalation burns would need emergency treatment. Considering Hassan had a stranglehold on every local hospital, I doubted this guy would survive to see another day.

While the river-type shaman was dying, Camila’s gaze remained fixed on him.

Watching the fading life with quiet resignation, she parted her lips slightly, then turned her gaze toward the debris.

“…Ha!”

A hand appeared atop a concrete shard.

“What kind of confidence did you have to cause such a ruckus alone…?”

With a swift motion, silhouetted against the debris, a shape began to materialize.

“…What a remarkable trick you have?”

The shaman crawling from the wreckage muttered as he looked at Camila.

The shaman, whose life had been inches from death, wore a sinister smile as he looked down at the magician.

*

Dust and soot marred the view. The leering smile was still present.

Patima, emerging from behind the debris, first scanned the surroundings. All that remained where the explosion had swept through was ruin. Though the earth had been overturned by earth-based sorcery, the damage was overwhelmingly extensive due to the magic.

The black marks left on the walls of the buildings that stood shoulder to shoulder painted a grim picture. The fire that scorched through a single block was indeed impressive. The shaman, glancing at the dying river-type shaman, clicked his tongue.

“He’s dead.”

“….”

“Well, at least it’s fortunate. One less mouth to feed.”

The shaman mocked his deceased counterpart. Finding no trace of remorse in his tone or expression, he remarked how splitting the bounty would be more convenient, wishing the other had managed to endure just a bit longer, as he muttered nonsensically.

Then, shifting his tone to a normal one, he spoke.

“My name is Patima. What’s yours?”

The shaman’s gaze turned to Camila, evoking images of a chivalrous knight revealing their name before a duel.

But Camila did not respond.

Instead, she spread her palm and concentrated her thoughts.

As the shaman leaped to the ground, he clicked his tongue lightly.

“…Tch. You should at least say your name before you die, you unfortunate girl.”

Her thumbs touched. Fingers intertwined.

Ethereal mirages began to rise. A red wave surged.

Camila took a large step forward, while the shaman crouched low, firmly anchoring himself. The ground beneath them twisted ominously, exuding sinister hues.

The dance of fire and sand began to unfold.

 

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