Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win-Chapter 63: Brithday [5]

’Finally.’

Akamir thought.

’A good study material.’

Arthur’s palm lit up with a faint orange glow as the magic circle bloomed to life in the air above it.

The lines pulsed with unstable mana, wild and raw, clearly affected by his emotions.

’It’s so clumsy and weak.’

Akamir could already see the gaps in its structure, the uneven lines, the rushed layering.

That spell was meant to do damage, with no thought about safety.

The circle crackled and a firebolt rushed towards him.

’That doesn’t seem too dangerous.’

Akamir didn’t bother raising his sword.

He lifted his hand slightly, and the table beside him shuddered as he used telekinesis.

It lurched into the air, floating between him and the spell, catching the firebolt head-on.

Flames burst against the wood, burning the surface, but the rest of the attack died out harmlessly.

"Fight me like a man!"

Arthur yelled as another circle flared in his hand, and this one was larger.

"There is a difference between stupid and bravery." Akamir replied, tilting his head. "And in you, all I see is stupidity."

"Shut up!"

Another sphere of fire rushed towards Akamir, a lot larger than before.

’What a pain.’

Akamir exhaled.

Two moves and Akamir could already determine that Arthur wasn’t worth much.

He stretched his hand out again, and a nearby chair rattled and launched upward, intercepting the fireball.

’Hmm?’

A piece of stone burst from the flames towards him, but a sharp twist of his wrist sent a tray that was left behind by a passing servant spinning into its path.

Clang!

A loud sound—the tray and the stone dropped harmlessly.

’A sneak attack, huh?’

Akamir thought as he looked back at Arthur.

When the stone didn’t work, he began forming another magic circle.

But...

The circle this time was sluggish, and Arthur’s hand also trembled.

He was channeling mana through brute force, there was no refinement, no care for efficiency.

It reminded Akamir of someone who had learned to use magic through pain, not guidance.

Another circle flared.

’Still, he’s too slow,’

Akamir thought, stepping sideways as the next firebolt hissed past his ear.

He raised his fingers, gently pulling a wine bottle from the table behind him and using it to deflect a wind slash aimed for his torso.

"Why!" Arthur gritted his teeth. "Why are they not working!"

The sword in his hand trembled.

He charged again, but this time, he didn’t swing.

He tossed the blade aside.

’Is he really—?’

Arthur’s fist clenched, and his knuckles began to glow, leaving a trail.

Mana surged through his arm, coating his skin with a faint bluish hue.

It was crude body enhancement magic—a short burst of speed and strength forced into the body with little regard for balance. freeweɓnovel.cøm

He reached Akamir in a second and threw a punch.

Akamir sidestepped, letting the blow whistle past his jaw.

Another punch followed, this time faster, stronger, but Akamir leaned back just enough for it to miss.

"Stay still, fucker!"

Arthur roared and aimed low, sweeping with a kick.

Akamir caught it on his shin and twisted his foot, locking Arthur’s leg and flipping him over.

Arthur hit the ground hard, rolled, and scrambled back up.

His breaths came fast now, ragged, but his eyes blazed with anger.

He rushed again.

’Let’s just end this.’

Akamir parried his punch with the flat of his palm, turned Arthur’s wrist inward, and landed a clean jab to his ribs.

"Haah!"

Arthur gasped, barely blocking the next strike to his jaw.

He ducked the third and swung his fist wide, but Akamir leaned away, using the momentum to pivot behind him.

He planted his foot into Arthur’s back and shoved.

Arthur stumbled forward, stopping himself from falling.

The crowd had long fallen silent, left in disbelief at how easily Arthur was getting beaten up.

Most of them couldn’t do that, with how Akamir was doing.

Only the sound of footfalls, breathing, and the light hum of mana remained in the garden.

Arthur came again, more desperate than ever, throwing wild punches charged with mana.

Akamir caught one, twisted it, and sent a pulse of his own mana into Arthur’s arm to numb it.

The next punch was slower and more sloppy.

Akamir caught it as well and used the force to spin.

He pivoted sharply, stepping to the side and grabbing Arthur’s coat mid-spin.

In one swift motion, he hurled him across the stone courtyard.

Arthur flew backward, completely off balance.

Akamir’s sword came with him—hovering in the air, drawn forward by telekinesis.

As Arthur hit the base of a marble statue, the blade followed brutally after him.

Crack.

"ARGHHH!!!"

Arthur screamed as pain assaulted his mind.

The sword pierced through his hand, nailing it to the base of the statue.

His body slumped, the pain hitting him fully a second later.

Everyone stood frozen.

Akamir didn’t speak.

He walked over slowly, calm as ever, and stopped in front of Arthur.

His eyes flicked to the impaled hand, then to Arthur’s face.

Arthur’s lips trembled, breath catching in his throat.

"Don’t challenge people when you’re not ready," Akamir said quietly.

He stepped back, letting the royal knights rush forward.

Camila rose from her seat, finally smiling.

"I think that’s enough."

The knights hesitated, then moved to pull the sword free.

"Argh."

Arthur cried out again as his hand was released.

Zaina covered her mouth, horror in her eyes.

Akamir turned his back without another word, rolling down his sleeves and picking up his coat.

He looked over at Ella, who had hopped off Zaina’s lap and padded over to him, rubbing her head against his leg.

He crouched to lift her, cradling her in one arm.

Zaina walked forward, reaching for him. "Asher—"

"I’m fine," he said simply, cutting her off.

Her concern turned into a glare as she looked back at Arthur. "You said you would go easy on him."

Akamir looked at her. "I did go easy. Otherwise, he would be dead by now."

Zaina’s lips trembled at the word ’dead.’ "W-wait, you can’t kill him! He is like my brother."

He looked at her for a second, then walked off without another glance.

"That’s why he isn’t dead," he said, walking away. "Better explain to him why he shouldn’t go out of his boundaries."

’Still, he is pathetic.’

Akamir thought as he glanced up where Nayomi was floating.

"Was he really closest to the male lead in the novel?" Akamir asked, as Ella jumped on his head, laying comfortably.

"The novel was a tragedy," Nayomi replied. "If he was strong, then he could have actually helped her."

"...So, he is weak so Zaina could get more tortured?" Akamir mumbled, rubbing his chin. "Huh, that’s not a bad explanation."

Nayomi didn’t reply as she floated close to him.

Akamir stopped right at the entrance of the garden as he leaned against the wall.

He planned to stay for a little longer until Zaina returns back to the academy dormitory.

’Just in case something happened....’

---

SLAM!!

The door of a luxurious room slammed open as a boy angrily rushed inside.

His short blonde hair was a mess, and his dark blue eyes had only anger in them.

"FUCK!"

Lucien cursed aloud as he grabbed a chair and slammed it into the bed.

The chair splintered against the edge of the bedframe, wooden shards scattering across the carpeted floor.

Lucien paced the room like a caged beast, chest heaving, fury radiating from every movement.

"That bastard humiliated me in front of everyone!"

Lucien couldn’t understand why.

What changed in Asher?

The boy who was always walking behind him like a loyal dog began to stand up against him.

"And that bastard looked at him as if I am lesser than him!"

His fists trembled as he turned to face the full-length mirror mounted near the dresser.

"Me? I am the greatest person in this kingdom, and yet he dares!"

Lucien slammed his fist into the wall, a loud thud echoing through the room.

"He stopped you from doing something stupid."

A voice echoed, and a man clad in full-body armour walked inside the room.

"A prince marrying a baron’s daughter? Don’t make me laugh."

Lucien turned to look at the man who closed the door behind him.

He was the same man that Akamir deemed dangerous at the first encounter.

Lucien’s scowl deepened at the man’s words, but he didn’t speak right away.

"Don’t mock me, Caldron," Lucien growled, but the tremor in his voice betrayed the insecurity underneath.

Caldron removed his helmet slowly, revealing a sharp face with eyes like obsidian and long, elongated ears.

One glance was enough to tell he was an elf.

"I’m not mocking you," Caldron replied coolly. "I’m telling you the truth. That girl will ruin your future."

Lucien clenched his jaw. "I love her."

Caldron snorted. "You don’t know what love is. This is just plain obsession."

A heavy and tense silence lingered between them.

Lucien finally broke it, his voice low. "Why are you here?"

"To remind you of the deal," Caldron spoke slowly.

"You see, my master—the Royal Advisor of Elves, won’t like you losing your position as the new king now."

Lucien’s breathing calmed slightly, but his glare didn’t waver. "I want Asher dead."

"Too easy," Caldron replied. "Buy why don’t you break him before killing him."

Lucien stood still. "How?"

Caldron rubbed his sharp jaw.

"You said he framed his brother," he said, smiling.

"How about we use it against him?"