Chapter 110: Shift Ability User

“…!”

The instant the flash erupted, Bran instinctively sensed lethal danger and deployed the strongest barrier he’d ever made—pulling up every last drop of both mana and demonic energy. Even then, he thought, Will this be enough?

BOOOOOOM!

A deafening explosion and a sandstorm swept the entire area.

“Kuuh!”

The impact shoved him backward, yet the barrier held. Bran lowered the arm shielding his eyes through the dust cloud.

In front of him was a half-incinerated wall of vines.

The cultist he had been crossing swords with had vanished without a trace.

RUMBLE—

The vine wall collapsed, kicking up more dust. A straight, deep scar had been gouged into the desert, and at the far end stood the small-framed, black-masked cultist.

Bran instantly realized the tiny pistol in the cultist’s hand had created this massive destruction.

And… that it wasn’t his own barrier that had saved him, but the vine wall Ion had created.

“Bran, be careful.”

Ion flew to his side. Haidian was with him.

“There’s a ‘Shift’ ability user among the Age cultists. It’s an aura ability that stores attacks and fires them later. That one just now was a giant’s ‘Ult.’”

“…That was Ult?”

“Yes. Precisely Ult 1/2. Half the power… but still overwhelming.”

“…”

Bran had once sought out giants after hearing how strong they were. In a fight the world never learned about, he killed two giants.

He never faced Ult in combat—he killed them before they could use it.

He had concluded, Giants are nothing. I really am the strongest, and returned to his hideout.

That conclusion was probably true. Bran was stronger than giants.

But would he survive a direct Ult? That was a completely different question.

Even a hybrid duke would be reduced to bone dust by Ult.

He had simply been lucky.

“…Hmph. I could’ve blocked it with my own barrier. Why bother making a vine wall? Don’t do unnecessary things.”

“You sure stretched those three syllables of ‘thank you’ real long.”

“Ha, I’m not thankful at all. My barrier would’ve been enough.”

“There might be more Shift users, so everyone stay alert. Even at half power, never think you can block it. Don’t even let it graze you.”

“You nag too much.”

“Ugh… I need a drink…”

No time for Haidian’s pity party. All eight remaining cultists were pulling out identical mini-pistols…

In all three of their heads, the same image flashed: Ult 1/2 raining from every direction.

Ion carefully set Sanse’s pot on the ground.

His compressed spatial pocket couldn’t hold Sanse. Haidian’s sub-space would work, but if Haidian died, Sanse would vanish with him. A vine wall was safer.

“Baba, you stay inside too.”

“Okay.”

Baba looked up at Ion with worried eyes.

“Dam Ion okay? Face super pale. Need help? I yawn for you?”

“…Just protect Sanse.”

“Okay. I listen well. Be careful.”

Ion gently stroked Sanse’s leaves and Baba’s tiny head once each, then stood after creating the vine wall.

FWOOSH! His flame sword ignited.

Bran beside him unleashed demonic energy. Black, shadowy aura wrapped around him like a cloak, turning him into Count Dracula incarnate.

Haidian hefted his flail onto his shoulder and glared at Bran.

“You… you’re a hybrid?”

“What? Fly-brat, you really didn’t notice? You thought a guy this handsome and sexy could be one of those idiot pureblood humans?”

“Ha, I should’ve known from the way you talk…!”

“Both of you, shut it. Talk after the fight.”

Ion, flames roaring higher, stepped between them.

The battle began.

BOOM!

Vines crushed a cultist’s body.

“Grrk…!”

Even as his legs snapped, the cultist desperately tried to pull the Shift pistol’s trigger.

Of course, Ion didn’t allow it. Step, step, step! He climbed ice stairs he created in midair and plunged the flame sword into the cultist’s chest.

“ARRGHH!”

The man burned from the heart outward and died. Ion tried to seize the Shift pistol, but the moment its owner died, it crumbled into ash.

WHOOSH—

An ice-attribute cultist began freezing the flame sword from the tip. Ion could have fed it more mana, but instead dismissed it.

“Khk!”

He instantly resummoned the flame sword inside the cultist’s body—close range made it possible. The cultist froze the hole to stop bleeding and pulled the trigger.

GUUUUU—

A boiling sound. White light flared.

“Shit…!”

Even Ion, who rarely swore, cursed.

“Ult!”

He shouted to the others and immediately raised a vine wall. Bran and Haidian, who had been fighting separately, gathered behind it.

BOOM!

Ha… my mana is draining like crazy.

Even normal vine walls cost mana; maintaining one strong enough to block Shift Ult cost far more.

The rest of the fight followed the same pattern:

Fight individually → “Hey, hey! That one’s using Ult! Muzzle’s boiling!” → Ion makes vine wall → Bran and Haidian hide behind it.

Every Shift pistol seemed loaded with Ult—each could fire five or six shots.

Eventually Ion abandoned the flame sword entirely, summoned his staff, and focused solely on vine walls. Among the three, he had the strongest shielding ability.

Flash, flash.

BOOM!

Whenever white light boiled, a vine wall appeared without a word.

“HYAAAAP!”

Haidian swung his flail. CRUNCH! A cultist’s upper body exploded, organs spilling out.

“Mere humans!”

Bran ripped the head off a cultist about to fire with his bare hand.

…Didn’t the good and bad sides just swap?

Even while thinking that their allies’ methods were too brutal, Ion instantly raised a wall the moment silver-white light flashed.

He blocked every single Ult.

By the end of the battle, the only thing on Ion’s mind was hugging Sanse. His mana had plummeted.

What was strange: despite them blocking every Ult and killing cultists one by one, the cultists never showed signs of panic.

“Ha, annoying pests. It’s over.”

Only one remained—the small-framed cultist with odd-colored eyes: one green, one black.

Ion tried to recall an odd-eyed character but drew a blank.

The cultist scanned Bran approaching while leaking dark demonic energy, Haidian with the flail on his shoulder, and Ion holding his staff from afar… then suddenly pointed the pistol at himself.

BANG!

“Su—suicide!?”

“No! Designated teleport!”

They thought he sacrificed himself out of despair, but no—a magic circle shot from the muzzle and enveloped him.

His body turned transparent and vanished in an instant.

“Argh, damn it! He got away! You fluffy chick-like…!”

Bran raged with cute censored swears.

For Ion, the fight being over was relief enough.

They searched the Age camp but found nothing special.

Instead, they discovered soup, bread, sweet potatoes—food. Though the trio had brought their own supplies, they decided to eat the cultists’ first. All three had poison resistance or detoxification abilities.

Nearby monsters had already been cleared by the cultists, so they ate without worry.

“I left a home where meat juices burst and sweet liquor flows at one command… to eat this hard-ass bread in the middle of nowhere… my life…”

“Right now I should be passed out drunk… tomorrow morning without a hangover? Unimaginable… a morning without hangover… my life…”

Bran dipped bread in soup and lamented; Haidian dipped bread in liquor and lamented.

Ion didn’t touch the bread.

He had something more urgent than eating.

Mana recharge.

He rubbed his cheeks against Sanse’s long, cool leaves, absorbing mana. The tiniest amount quenched his thirst.

Sanse couldn’t speak.

Yet strangely…

Whenever Ion’s mana was critically low and he pressed his cheek to the leaves, he could feel Sanse desperately trying to push out every last drop of mana it had.

Others would call it his imagination, but Ion genuinely felt Sanse’s earnest worry.

“Dam Ion.”

Baba flapped over and landed on a leaf.

“Want mana sulfur?”

“No. Still full. But this is first time Dam Ion ask me if I want food first. I too cute? Want feed me? Want yawn?”

Never bringing it up first again.

“You usually call me when you want mana sulfur, that’s all. If not that, why’d you call?”

“Sanse worried about Dam Ion. Worried about mana. Sanse anxious.”

“I’m still fine. Sanse, relax.”

Ion gently stroked a leaf.

Bran, who had inhaled three loaves in three bites, asked,

“Hey, what’s this about mana worry?”

Ion decided to tell them just in case.

“I have a special constitution—if all my mana runs out, I faint. There’s no natural mana in this field… so you should know. If I collapse, don’t panic too much.”

“Celestial blood thing?”

He had already explained to Haidian that he had Celestial blood.

“Something like that.”

“You’re good at hand-to-hand too. From now on fight with your body instead of magic.”

“It’s not that simple. If the remaining cultists use Shift Ult again, I’m the only one who can block it.”

“Then I’ll kill them all before they can fire. After experiencing it once, they all felt slow as hell.”

“I have mana potions…”

Haidian pulled out a palm-sized blue vial from sub-space.

Ion’s eyes widened.

He knew mana potions existed in Idea, but never imagined anyone actually carried them.

Because Ideans had no need to refill mana with potions.

As expected—

“Why the hell do you carry that trash?”

When Bran asked in disbelief, Haidian answered,

“Most people don’t know, but mana potions are great for hangovers… I always keep a stock… Here, Ion-ssi. Drink.”

Ion accepted the vial filled with blue liquid.

A magic tool even Teacher’s mage tower didn’t have! With this, fear of mana depletion would disappear.

He uncorked it and chugged.

“…”

When Ion’s expression stayed dark, Haidian tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“…It doesn’t work on me.”