Fate: No One Plays the Villain Like I Do

The Magus of Flowers paused briefly. The moment he regrouped with Samael and Ana, he tapped his staff lightly on the ground. Pink ripples spread out.

Boom!

Thick silver chains crisscrossed and slammed into the earth, tearing through three figures. But in the blink of an eye, their remains scattered into a flurry of petals. The pink and white blossoms then spread out, transforming into fluttering butterflies that obscured the pursuers' and magical beasts' vision.

When the green-haired androgynous beauty waved away the glowing butterflies circling him and regained a clear view, dozens of magical beasts lay collapsed around him, sound asleep.

"Useless."

With a cold snort, the pursuer bent down and pressed a hand to the ground. Rings of green light rippled out, and sharp senses quickly locked onto the three fleeing figures several kilometers away.

Even the finest illusion could only deceive for so long. As long as he remembered their core life rhythms, nothing could hide from this earth-blessed perception.

Just as the green-haired beauty confirmed their location and prepared to give chase, his heart throbbed violently. A restless roar echoed in his mind.

Mother is awake?

Tch. Her condition's still unstable. I can't just leave her alone all day, right? Lucky you.

With a reluctant glance toward the darkness-shrouded Reed Fields, mana surged from his feet and sent the earth trembling. All around, the beasts put to sleep by the illusion spell jolted awake, leaping to their feet.

"Remember the scent of those three rats. Keep chasing!"

As long as Mother's safety was ensured, these degraded magical beasts were expendable. Hauling them back would only be a burden. Let these idiots wreak havoc in Mesopotamia's heartland and burn through their last breath for her grand cause.

With a cold snort, the green-haired beauty soared into the sky, turning back toward the Cedar Forest beyond the Babylonian defensive line.

Hundreds of magical beasts burst forward like wild dogs off their leashes, sniffing out the lingering trail and charging straight into the Reed Fields.

...

Transported dozens of miles away by a storm of petals, the trio barely had time to catch their breath when rustling echoed from the overgrown grass. Under the faint moonlight, dozens of trails darted through the underbrush, accompanied by snarling growls.

The three stood back to back in a triangular formation, each watching a direction.

Still reeling from Merlin's earlier display, Samael shot a glance at the so-called Grand Magus.

"Don't look at me. After casting a large-scale illusion and teleportation, your considerate big brother's running on empty."

"You two better protect me—for old times' sake."

The white-haired trickster spread his hands and shrugged, that usual carefree grin on his face betraying no tension. It was impossible to tell if he was joking or serious.

"Tch, Merlin, you're useless."

Color returning to her face, Ana gave a disgusted snort. She gripped her scythe blades, lowering into a battle-ready stance.

"You want me to fight these beasts barehanded? At least give me a weapon!"

Seeing the Incubus actually back off and pretend to stay uninvolved, Samael's face darkened.

"No problem!"

Without hesitation, Merlin drew a gorgeous longsword from inside his staff and cheerfully handed it to the Sumerian traveler.

"You're a Magus, right?"

Samael stared at the cold blade, his expression twitching.

Wait, that staff actually has a sword sheath?

"I was never great at Magecraft. Try chanting too fast, and I'll bite my tongue."

"Besides, it makes sense for a squishy mage to carry a sword for self-defense, right?"

The Incubus blinked, utterly nonchalant.

Then what kind of Magus are you supposed to be? A Grand-tier one? This is it?

From what he knew, only three Magus in history held the qualifications of Grand Servants—Wise King Gilgamesh, King of Magecraft Solomon, and Great Sage Merlin.

One broke new ground, one inherited brilliance, and one basked in the twilight glow.

Yet oddly enough, these pillars of Magecraft weren't even proper spellcasters. They were all more skilled in close combat than actual sorcery.

So based on the melee styles they developed while casting magic, each earned a nickname that completely overshadowed their Magus status.

One was the Berserker King of Uruk...

One was the Fist Emperor of Israel...

One was the Sword Saint of Avalon...

Just look at these Grand Magus—they completely ignore their Magecraft talent! Who even are these people?

Stuck in an awkward spot, Samael couldn't help but feel bitter and envious.

But there was no time to sulk. As the ancient serpent spotted seven or eight magical beasts charging out of the grass, he recalled the trials he faced in the Underworld.

Using Ana as his spearpoint, he adjusted his stance, summoned his mana, and struck with a sudden, precise thrust.

"Hm, not bad—a standard Babylonian combat technique. Looks a little rough, but decent enough."

"Keep it up, little brother!"

The Incubus watching from the sidelines rubbed his smooth chin and offered a casual, honest critique, grinning as he cheered on.

At that moment, as Samael gradually steadied his stance, he couldn't help but silently thank his demanding Master, Ere-sama. It was the relentless sparring with the Gallû Spirits in the Underworld, along with the techniques and insights left behind by General Tareel, that allowed him to blend into Sumerian society.

"That swing was too low—bring it a bit higher..."

"Watch the right side, don't ignore that swamp..."

"Ana, same goes for you. You're being too forceful. Conserve your strength—there are a lot of Magical Beasts tonight. This is going to be a drawn-out battle..."

But even while just spectating, Merlin couldn't keep his mouth shut, irritating the two fighting up front.

"You think you're so great? Then come do it yourself!"

"Uh... my Mana hasn't recovered yet—give it a minute..."

"Then shut it!"

"Quit yapping if you're not helping!"

Still fighting as they retreated, Ana and Samael turned around and shouted in unison, fury burning in their eyes.

The relaxed and carefree Incubus shrank back slightly, shaking his head in mock resignation. But inwardly, the ever-vigilant Great Sage quietly let out a breath of relief, a flicker of relief flashing in his eyes.

He had deliberately exposed a weakness earlier, yet that divine weapon hadn't seized the opportunity. It seemed he had given up the chase and returned to the Blood Temple.

A shame, really.

Sure, it would've been risky. But if he had successfully lured him to Uruk, he wouldn't just be facing him and Ana—there would be another, long-prepared presence waiting for him: the King of Heroes.

That one had already been claiming cities under Enkidu's name. The destruction caused by him alone far exceeded anything the Magical Beasts had done outside Babylonia.

If they could have trapped that divine weapon, it would've dealt a major blow to the morale of the Mother Goddess' forces. That alone would've made the whole trip worthwhile.

Well, no point forcing things. Still, it's not like we walked away empty-handed.

We picked up Ana from the Cedar Forest—and this new traveler who joined us along the way might end up being a pleasant surprise, too.

The calculating Incubus smiled as he glanced at Samael battling the Magical Beasts, the corners of his lips curling upward.