Genius Wizard Takes Medicine

Lennok observed with satisfaction as his interference gradually caused the mana in the surrounding pit to recede.

‘Interfering with mana itself seems to be challenging when the opponent is prepared. Perhaps it's a characteristic of mana…'

During the casting of magic, vulnerabilities were abundant and didn't pose a significant obstacle. However, interfering with mana itself proved difficult unless the interference came when someone is ignorant of it, regardless of the level difference.

But how far could Lennok push this ability?

At the very least, he could manipulate the opponent's senses momentarily, but he hadn't anticipated how effective this interference would be.

With a nod of contentment, Lennok watched as Maoren, the first to break free from the interference, swiftly leaped up, using another mercenary's shoulders as a stepping stone.

Swish!

Maoren ascended above the pit, scanning his surroundings with an intense gaze before locking eyes with Lennok.

Swish.

The two individuals, their expressions completely transformed, engaged in a penetrating stare-off.

Lennok made no effort to divert his gaze.

The moment Maoren had fallen into the pit, the decision on who should back down had already been made.

As expected, Maoren quickly averted his gaze and turned his body, feigning ignorance.

The vexed expression on his face was nowhere to be seen.

Faintly smiling at the sight of Maoren swiftly rushing toward the marauding Contaminants, Lennok knew that if anyone else had been in Maoren's position, it might not have been as apparent. However, Maoren must have deduced who had been meddling with his mana just moments ago.

Even after recognizing Lennok's capabilities, Maoren was no fool to make a misstep in his presence.

But what about the other mercenaries?

"Huff, huff…!"

"I-I finally made it!"

"Damn, we're late!"

Only after Maoren had sprinted off into the distance did the mercenaries, who had struggled against the mana interference and crawled out of the pit, catch their breaths.

Accustomed to physical enhancement through mana, they found it challenging to adapt to the sudden disparity.

If Lennok continued to exploit this vulnerability effectively, it would undoubtedly prove advantageous in battles.

Proudly grinning and contemplating various tactics, Lennok suddenly heard a harsh voice.

"Hey, Van!"

Erikson, his face flushed red, stormed toward Lennok with large strides, his twisted expression filled with rage.

"What's your excuse for just standing there and watching? You could have helped!"

Lennok responded calmly and nonchalantly, dismantling Erikson's attempt at a polite facade.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"……."

"The only person I need to assist is the woman over there running around with a shotgun."

"What, this bastard?"

"We're not that close, are we? It's a bit awkward if you start pretending we're comrades now."

In just three sentences, Lennok stripped away the thin veil of civility that Erikson had been trying to maintain.

It was clear. Erikson wasn't genuinely seeking help from Lennok or expressing legitimate grievances.

He simply wanted to unleash his anger on someone he perceived as weak.

The gazes of the other mercenaries mirrored Erikson's sentiment.

Taking the cue from the atmosphere, Erikson smoothly sprung into action.

A fist charged with mana was aimed precisely at Lennok's chin.

However, Lennok didn't allow such a simple and crude attack to land.

He knew that even if he stood motionless, his shield would protect him, but he had no reason to passively wait for that.

Lennok swiftly cast a light shock spell directed at Erikson's abdomen.

The spell had been developed through careful observation and study of Grime's shock magic, and it possessed enough power to incapacitate an individual.

Thud!

Erikson's belly unexpectedly compressed without any reaction, causing his upper body to bend forward.

Drool escaped from his gaping mouth.

"Damn… What the… Ugh, urgh…!"

Confused and unsure of how to respond to just one counterattack, Erikson began retching uncontrollably.

Lennok approached him calmly, placing his hand on the back of Erikson's bowed head.

Erikson, writhing in pain as if his organs were being directly assaulted, was unable to focus on Lennok's actions.

A blue current sparked to life between Lennok's five fingers.

[Bolt.]

Zap!

Erikson received an electric shock to the back of his head, causing him to foam at the mouth and collapse on the spot.

Lennok had calibrated the power appropriately, ensuring that Erikson wouldn't suffer fatal consequences.

The other mercenaries, who witnessed the scene unfolding before them, were frozen in place, their eyes fixed on Lennok. They may not have known the exact details of Lennok's technique, but they could discern his exceptional skill.

‘These mercenaries seem to catch on much faster than that wizard.'

Recalling a certain wizard who mistook the chain lightning for the power of an artifact, Lennok proceeded to walk slowly towards the group.

TAK TAK.

With each step Lennok took, the mercenaries gradually retreated, parting like the Red Sea. None of them paid attention to Mila, who continued her relentless pursuit of the contaminants.

Claria gazed at Lennok meaningfully, while Miguel bit his lip, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions.

Complex glances were exchanged, and just before Lennok passed by Miguel, he managed to speak up.

"If you had such skills, why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"……"

"Then, we wouldn't have treated you like that."

"Treated like that?"

Lennok chuckled at Miguel's words, tinged with a hint of resentment.

"I came to this place to capture contaminants, not to seek special treatment from you."

Receiving better treatment from mercenaries like Miguel held no significance for Lennok. Both he and the mercenaries lived lives no different from day laborers, struggling day by day. If anything, comparing their situations, they might even be better off than Lennok.

As thoughts of the massive amount of 120 million cells escaping from his bank account crossed his mind, Lennok hardened his expression and decisively turned his back.

"It seems things are wrapping up over there."

Mila, who had dispatched nearly a dozen contaminants, and Maoren, who was attempting to muster enough mana to squeeze himself in between them.

There was no room for Miguel in that equation.

Seeing Miguel droop his head weakly, Lennok ended the conversation with a soft tone.

"As I mentioned before, is it alright if we settle things separately?"

"Wa-wait…!!"

The desperate voice that interjected belonged to Claria, who nervously chewed on her lips while observing the exchange between the two. She glanced at Miguel with trembling eyes, then quickly shifted her expression, smiling at Lennok.

"I can't speak for Miguel, but I never agreed to that."

"……"

"I only went along because Erikson and Miguel were insistent. If you give me a chance now…!!"

"What's with this woman?"

Mila, who had appeared behind Lennok, interrupted Claria's words. Her entire body was covered in sand dust and an unknown fluid, a testament to the chaos she had caused while dealing with the contaminants.

Lennok wrinkled his nose and distanced himself from her. How could she be so careless as to let that stuff stick to her skin without knowing what the contaminants were made of?

Mila, wearing a peculiar smile, kept her eyes fixed on Claria, who remained tight-lipped.

"Hey, continue what you were saying."

Lennok understood why Claria fell silent. It was difficult for anyone to express their thoughts after seeing someone covered in contaminant fluid.

"Do you think it's right to abandon your comrades and try to curry favor with us at this point?"

"I-I didn't mean to…"

"I know, I understand. It's a gain for you if you can get close to our wizard, even if it means abandoning your friends, right?"

Claria didn't distance herself from her comrades solely to claim ownership of the contaminants that Mila had eradicated. She was well aware of the value of establishing a friendship with a skilled and fully-fledged wizard in this field.

A wizard with developed magic capable of real combat was a rare and precious asset. Unlike Miguel, Claria seemed to have intuited that Lennok was the one who had orchestrated this situation. Her insight, regardless of her personal abilities, was quite astute.

Mila leaned in close, their faces almost touching, leaving it uncertain what Claria saw in her eyes.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"…Yes."

"Good, you're smart."

Only then did Mila smile with satisfaction and pat Claria's shoulder.

Lennok could easily discern why Mila was adopting such a survival-oriented attitude towards a stranger she had just met. She was attempting to win his favor by demonstrating how she easily brushed away anyone trying to attach themselves to him.

She must have already formed a rough idea of his abilities based on the two spells he had cast moments ago—the ones that immobilized the mercenaries and petrified the contaminants.

Whether it was a calculated move or an instinctual response based on intuition, it was clear that Mila's act of pushing Claria away was not solely for her own benefit.

Lennok watched in a daze as Mila approached and then turned his head to see Maoren walking weakly towards him, also covered in contaminant fluid. While it made sense for Mila, seeing Maoren in the same state suggested that the fluid itself didn't have a significant negative impact on humans.

Maoren glanced up at Lennok and offered a faint smile. "It seems I've lost."

Lennok remained silent.

"It's hard to be angry when you've been outplayed so perfectly. Today's events were quite impressive," Maoren said, laughing and speaking as if nothing had happened.

Lennok remembered the intense anger in Maoren's eyes when he had crawled out of the pit. That moment of irritation must have been immense, but seeing Maoren now suppress his frustration and show a smile indicated that he had finished his cost-benefit analysis.

Maoren shook his fluid-soaked hand a few times and pulled out a business card from his pocket. He handed it to Lennok. "Here, this is all I can give you. Will you accept it?"

It was a business card from the Platon Mercenary Office.

Silently, Lennok took the business card with the office's phone number and Maoren's personal contact and placed it in his pocket. Maoren nodded in acknowledgment.

"Thank you. Then."

From the moment Maoren became certain of Lennok's abilities, he no longer acted clingy or repulsive. He simply handed over his business card and stepped back, as if this had been the natural course of events. It was a stark contrast to his previous behavior of forcefully asserting ownership based on numbers.

In a world where the weak were despised and the strong were respected, Maoren didn't hesitate to show both sides. And it seemed he knew that Lennok would do the same. He was not an ordinary mercenary.

Mila, who had been watching silently from the side, suddenly spoke up. "I have a business card too. Should I give it?"

"No need," Lennok replied. He had already received the office's card from Dylan, so there was no need for Mila's card.

But Mila, perhaps not wanting to feel defeated by Maoren, took out a fluid-soaked business card from her pocket and slipped it into Lennok's sleeve.

Suppressing his irritation, Lennok sighed. "Let's leave for now."

"Good. I need to clean up as well."

Following Mila towards the forklift parked inside the ruins, Lennok glanced back slightly. He saw Maoren gathering the other mercenaries, including Miguel, and engaged in conversation.

Amidst the series of disruptions, Lennok had almost forgotten about the unusual expression Maoren had displayed when multiple contaminants had appeared. Could his smile at that moment and his compliant attitude of stepping back be connected?

The thought crossed Lennok's mind, but he knew that, at this point, he had no means to do anything about it. While he did have some interest in the city's safety, it was beyond his current capabilities.

What occupied his mind at that moment was the Stemmonia elixir that was likely still up for auction. He focused his gaze on the forklift, following Mila's hand gesture.

It had been a brief encounter, a convergence of moments. But it wasn't a meaningless moment. It served as a reminder that even mercenaries didn't always execute their tasks flawlessly.

Climbing onto the forklift, Lennok passed by the mercenaries and headed back to Vulcan. It was time to settle the compensation for the extermination.

(TO BE CONTINUED on May 29{MON})

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