The Great Mage Returns After 4000 Years

Book 2: Chapter 127

It was a terrible defeat.

In fact, it was a miracle that they had even managed to keep their lives.

This fact caused Lukas to bite his lip.

“…dammit.”

What had gone wrong?

The moment he thought this, the reasons began to pour into his head like a stream.

First, he hadn’t understood his opponent’s powers well enough.

Second, he had been too prideful.

And third, he’d refused to recognise the difference in power between his side and their opponent.

They shouldn’t have kept fighting. After the first deadlock, they should have run away without looking back.

But they hadn’t.

And there was only one reason for this. Because Lukas didn’t make the decision.

The brains of the group should always maintain his cool at all times, but he hadn’t.

And because of that, they had suffered a defeat that he would never forget.

‘If you think about it, it’s natural.’

Humans. No, even bugs and insects have different strengths and weaknesses depending on the individual.

Naturally, this rule also applied to Demigods.

But somehow, Lukas had missed this simple fact.

…Their defeat was all his fault.

“Lukas.”

After hearing the soft voice from behind him, he turned around.

There, he saw a woman illuminated by the moonlight.

“Iris.”

“Kasajin is awake.”

“Really?!”

Lukas hurriedly got to his feet. But Iris shook her head with a solemn expression.

“But the situation isn’t good. To be honest, it’s a miracle that he’s still alive.”

“…can nothing be done even with your and Schweiser’s knowledge?”

“The poison that Demigod used is made up of ingredients that don’t exist in this world.”

That was true. If the poison had been made up of normal ingredients, they wouldn’t have struggled to cure him.

It felt like the Demigod had used liquid death instead of simple poison. No matter how skilled they were, in the face of this poison, it was meaningless. Even a Barrier spell from Lukas, who had reached 9 stars long ago, had only been able to last a few seconds.

…And Kasajin… had been drenched in the poison.

He rushed in front of Lukas and took the attack for him without any hesitation.

Lukas took a deep breath before slowly walking towards the cave.

There, he saw Kasajin lying on a temporary bed made of grass. He was sweating profusely, and panting as though he had trouble breathing.

Iris was right. It was a miracle that he was still alive.

Lukas looked at the bed made of grass. These special detoxification plants that Schweiser had taken from his own storage had already lost their fresh appearance, and looked withered and purple instead.

“I’m not gonna die.”

A tired voice sounded.

It was Kasajin. He had turned his head to look at Lukas.

His voice shook slightly, and his eyes were unfocused.

“Kasajin.”

“This isn’t a bluff. I’m serious. I will choose where I die. This grass sick bed or whatever isn’t worthy enough to become my grave.”

“That’s rude to Schweiser.”

“Kukuku…”

He knew that Kasajin was only pretending to be all right, but he didn’t mention it.

As if to prove my thoughts, Kasajin laughed for only a moment longer before he began to cough heavily.

Wiping the blood on his lips with a handkerchief, Lukas opened his mouth.

“I believe you, so you better not die.”

“That’s natural. Whose body do you think this is? I’m the Punch King, the man who’s gonna beat up all the Demigods.”

He smiled brightly, his white teeth stained with blood.

Lukas looked down at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. Then, a slight smile spread across his lips.

“No matter how I look at it, that title of yours is just too tacky.”

“…then what about Fist King?”

Kasajin shook his head after saying those words.

“That can’t work. I don’t only fight with my fists.”

“Weren’t you just calling yourself the Punch King?”

“That’s why I want to change it.”

After thinking about it for a while, Lukas suddenly opened his mouth.

“How about Warrior King? …No, Magic Warrior King would be better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Among all the Warriors who can also use mana, you are by far the best.”

Kasajin frowned slightly.

“Hmm. That does sound like a good title.”

“I think it’s way better than Punch King at least.”

“Ah, I guess that’s true. Magic Warrior King… Magic Warrior King Kasajin. It definitely has a nice ring to it.”

Kasajin muttered to himself for a few more moments before closing his eyes. Soon, his breathing slowed down a bit.

It seems he’d fallen asleep again.

Lukas looked down at him before whispering solemnly.

“…this failure was caused by my incompetence. And yet, you still won’t blame me.”

“Right.”

Kasajin responded. However, his eyes were still closed, and his voice was soft, making it seem like he might have just been sleep talking.

Nevertheless, Lukas couldn’t help but ask.

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried.”

“What?”

“Looking at you makes me worry. No one understands how you feel inside. Everyone just relies on you. Stupid guys like me and the others. Royalty, Nobles, Commoners… everyone is the same.”

“…”

“Even that woman outside, who pretends to not care about anything, is the same… all she can think about is relying on you.”

He was talking about Iris.

Lukas was speechless for a moment. Kasajin’s words were true.

Schweiser, Iris, and even the stoic Lucid were all deeply dependent on Lukas. They always believed that his choices were best.

“But that’s not really our fault either. After all, you’re the one who started this group, who brought us all together. So you have to take responsibility for it. You have to endure. Nevertheless…”

Kasajin’s voice began to fade.

“If you think you can’t handle it anymore, just tell me. I’ll help you.”

Kasajin seemed to truly fall asleep after saying those words.

Looking at his pale face and rapidly rising chest, Lukas felt his throat become tight with emotion.

‘You can do it. This is what you were born to do.’

‘Lukas, you’re an amazing person.’

‘If it were for you, I could risk my life.’

The voice of his closest friends rang out in his head at that moment. Filled with infinite amounts of trust, faith, and dependence in the human named ‘Lukas Trowman’.

Of course, this didn’t mean that he didn’t like it.

…However, at the same time, those beliefs felt like unbearable pressure. It felt like something he was unable to carry on his own, like his knees and back would break at any moment.(1)

But he would never show that.

Because he didn’t want to betray their faith.

‘Right.’

He was just one of many.

Instead of relying on him unilaterally, maybe it would be better for them to support each other.

(Notes

1. Me every time I have to carry my friends in a game)