[23] How to Kill a Mage

Freja could feel Bjorn’s connection and his emotions, there wasn’t a hint of quit in him even as he fell into the water. She looked at the bloodied pool, the familiar bond telling her he was still very much in the fight. She readied herself using his emotions to bolster her own survival instincts and suppress her fear. This was one of the main purposes of the delta familiar emotion sharing. They could strengthen each other’s resolve in the face of any odds. 

She had no reservations that this was a losing battle. This was a real druid war mage and his delta familiar, nothing like the dying one she killed in the forest that was more dead than alive. She had no offensive magic, nothing that could even come close to an actual war mage’s power. However, she would do whatever it took to survive. 

She reached into her book bag and took out the combat knife charging herself with mana and letting it permeate every fiber of her muscles, every tendon and bone. She heightened her senses to the limits of her current capability and stood up facing the druid with determination. If she was going to die she was going to die standing.

“Bring it tree fucker.” Freja said.

The druid laughed, raising his staff as water condensed around him forming three orbs. The druid’s magic reacted without even needing to speak words of power. Freja dodged to her side narrowly avoiding a stream of water aimed for her head. She had to jump again immediately after to avoid more streams which struck the ground behind her with enough force to dig holes through rock.  

“Maybe this will be fun after all.” The druid said with a smile stretched across his face.

The druid spoke words of power and Freja was lifted into the air by a gust of wind; she didn’t even have time to react as she was pulled towards the druid in seconds. He spun his staff around his body with practiced grace and as soon as she was in range he hit her square in the chest with a baseball swing. Freja’s trajectory was instantly stopped as she flew backward from the mage, the blow having sent shockwaves of pain through her body as she skittered to a stop unmoving.

“Or maybe not. Is that all she had?” The druid question. “Here you were getting my hopes up, savage.”

Freja felt something in her bond as she struggled to breathe, the wind having been completely knocked out of her as she laid on her back. She looked at the river and saw Bjorn had made it to the shore only about six or so feet from the druid while going completely unnoticed. His mouth was open and magic gathered as visible heat.

Freja turned away and balled herself up to make herself smaller. Heat erupted from the injured Bjorn as green fire lit up the area slowly concentrating and becoming purple as it crackled with magical energy. The wave of fire was stopped as a blast of air split the flaming torrent striking Bjorn and sending him flying across the river where he only stopped after hitting a tree.

The druid laughed as his familiar was interposed between him and the flames, wind magic circulating around the beast. Its magic is what protected the druid and sent Bjorn flying.

“Bjorn.” Freja screamed as she turned back around.

“Kill it this time.” The druid said to his familiar. “As for you, don’t worry you’ll both be dead soon.”

The bird opened its wings to fly but before it could, a red mist surrounded them. No one had noticed because of the fire but now it became more prevalent. The mist was thick and didn’t react to the wind but also didn’t have any magic within it. A clawed hand reached out of the mist and grabbed the head of the bird. Before the bird, the druid or Freja even processed what was going on, the hand squeezed and the bird’s head popped. Feathers, blood, bone and gore sprayed the air as the bird’s body fell to the ground. 

The druid screamed. “What the fu…”

The same hand that killed the bird balled into a fist pulled back and hit the druid so hard in the ribs he was lifted up into the air. Then a second hand appeared, grabbed the druid before he was too high, pulled him back down as the first fist reared back again then came crashing down. It struck the druid’s head this time sending him into the ground. The soil and mud gave in beneath him as he struggled to retain consciousness. 

Tendrils of water flew from the river and wrapped around the druid. The tendrils threw him out of the mist giving him distance from the assault. They then whipped fruitlessly at the mist before they all were destroyed by the unknown assailant obscured in the mist. The druid landed on his feet but instantly fell to his knees, spit up blood and struggled to breath. The mist cleared revealing Joha standing there eyeing the elemental mage with unbridled rage. 

“Are you okay, Sif?” Joha asked.

Freja had to do a mental check on herself. She was in pain sure but thanks to her mana saturation it was mainly bruises with nothing broken.

“I will be fine but Bjorn, he is injured.” She responded.

“Okay, stay there.” Joha said.

“W-who the fuck ar…”

“Shut your filthy mouth.” Joha said with a deep growl. “In my country any one that attacks civilians is trash not deserving of speech.”

The red mist again started to form each time Joha exhaled until his body was completely obscured. The druid raised his staff and stood, having recovered enough to speak his words of power. The orbs of water formed, this time seven of them with many more in the process of formation. Streams of water shot out each one vanishing in the mist and continuing on cutting up the landscape behind it.

Joha ran out of the mist making a beeline for the druid. His appearance had changed and he was much thinner and younger looking. His fur was midnight black, his fangs exaggerated and jagged, his four horns became six and each one sparked with demonic energy Freja could still not sense. He did not slow as he dodge and weaved between the now ten, no eleven shots of water each happening one after the other.

Joha closed the distance and the mage prepared himself with his war staff to defend. The tiger demon continued to dodge several streams and the staff as he punched the druid in the face. He jumped and twisted in the air kicking several of the water orbs destroying them before landing. The red mist escaped his mouth as his form changed to that of a monkey-man with four arms. The druid panicked as he spun his staff in hopes to gain some distance.  Joha with two of his arms grabbed the weapon and with the other two drove his fist through it breaking the magical implement.

The now monkey-man jumped over the druid to dodge several shots from the remaining water orbs. Joha’s tail wrapped around the druid’s neck as he focused on the rest of the orbs. He destroyed all of the remaining ones with a flurry of punches and kicks before landing. As soon as his feet touched the ground he threw the druid by the neck with his tail. The druid landed on his back a few feet in front of Joha with a crash.

“Forest Father deliver me.” The druid said as he rolled over onto his side.

The druid stood getting into a fighting stance of his own, desperation clearly visible on his face. He reached for his combat knife. The item identical to the one Freja got from the other druid soldier she had killed. When it comes to mages they are harder to kill than normal people. The mana in their bodies becomes so dense that even previously grievous wounds on a normal person may heal over time. The druid Freja killed was only alive because his mana was trying to turn him into a lesser druid, the treant. There is only one way to ensure a mage is dead and not coming back.

The red mist again surrounded Joha as he rushed the druid. The knife sliced into the mist only for his hand to be caught by Joha’s massive clawed hand as he returned to his normal large tiger form. A swift hit from Joha’s free fist broke the druid’s arm, the crack of the break resounding so loud even Freja heard it from thirty feet away. The druid didn’t get a chance to scream in pain. Joha used the druid’s own knife and hand to stab him in the throat and slice outward, nearly decapitating the man.

The druid fell to the ground with a wet splat, his blood pooled under him. Joha put one foot on the druid’s back and reached down and with a tug ripped off the druid’s head tossing it away from the body. The only way to ensure a mage is truly dead is to decapitate them and burn the remains. The body suddenly caught fire as the tiger demon stepped away, turning his attention to the shocked Freja.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep