Gunmage-Chapter 200: The duel

"I challenge you to a duel"

The words cut through the noisy chatter like a blade, and the laughter that had filled the room died abruptly, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence. Every eye turned sharply to Marcus, as if he had just declared something utterly insane.

"We have to stop this"

Sylvera, Selaphiel’s daughter, whispered urgently, stepping forward. But before she could utter another word, her mother’s calm but authoritative voice halted her in mid-step.

"Leave them be. Lugh knows when to hold back and when to push too far."

Across the gathering of youths, stunned faces stared at Marcus as if he had lost his mind. A duel? The incredulity was almost palpable.

Was Marcus the only one insulted by Lugh’s relentless provocations? No—every single one of Lugh’s victims sat in silence, nursing bruised egos and pride.

But why no retorts? Because everyone understood one brutal truth: no matter how much they despised Lugh, his strength was undeniable.

They had witnessed firsthand the oppressive magical pressure that Lugh wielded like a weapon—an invisible force that made the air itself tremble.

And just days ago, they had seen him annihilate twelve beastkin in a merciless display of power. No one dared underestimate him. Lugh was an anomaly, a force beyond their usual standards.

And still... Marcus opened his big mouth.

Maybe that was all he had that was big.

His brain certainly wasn’t.

The realization dawned on Marcus slowly. His mind scrambled for an escape, eyes darting around searching for any sign of reprieve or intervention. But it was too late.

Lugh rose from his seat with deliberate slowness, his expression unreadable.

"OK. I’ll duel you"

He said simply, voice steady and cold.

A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

’Oh no,’

Marcus thought desperately.

’It’s over now that he’s accepted.’

But then Lugh’s voice rang out again, cutting through Marcus’s internal panic.

"Unless, of course, you want to take back the challenge."

There it was—the lifeline he had been searching for.

His chest rising with hopeful relief, Marcus opened his mouth to seize it.

’Take it back?’

A sudden, sharp thought pierced through him.

’Is he... pitying me? Would I really retreat like a coward? In front of all these girls?’

’Hell no!’

His voice rang out, loud and defiant.

"I’m not taking back anything!"

Lugh raised a single eyebrow, amused.

"You think I’m scared of you? Let’s do this—man to man!"

The collective groan from the onlookers was audible. "Idiot," everyone thought as they facepalmed simultaneously.

Lirienne felt a sudden touch on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw the blindfolded Enji.

"What is happening now? Have they gotten into a stance? What does Lugh’s stance even look like?"

He fired questions rapidly, barely able to contain his fascination.

"They aren’t fighting—yet,"

Lirienne replied with a small smile. But soon.

"You have guts, I’ll give you that,"

Lugh said, directing a rare compliment toward Marcus.

"But a regular fight to the death will end too quickly,"

Lugh added thoughtfully. How about we add some rules?

"What rules?"

Marcus replied eagerly.

"I’m fine with a regular fight!"

"Shut your mouth!"

Elizabeth snapped, stepping in to clamp her palm over Marcus’s mouth, silencing him instantly.

Lugh observed the exchange for a moment, then continued.

"Here’s the deal. You throw your grandest spell at me, and I’ll try to block it with a magic shield. If my shield breaks, you win. If it holds, I win."

Marcus exhaled, relief washing over him. Well, that sounds fair enough.

But Lugh wasn’t finished.

"Similarly, I’ll throw an attack at you. If your shield breaks, I win. If it holds, you win."

His tone was cool and calculating. A duel should have equal risk for both participants.

Marcus’s gulp was audible even to those standing nearby.

"The person with the most wins is the overall victor. If the score is tied, we call it a draw and go our separate ways."

Elizabeth stepped forward, bowing deeply with an air of apology.

"I apologize on behalf of this dunce,"

She said firmly.

"But this game is too dangerous. We can’t accept it."

"We?"

Lugh echoed, eyebrows raised. I don’t remember you challenging me.

Marcus stepped forward, voice strained but resolute.

"Elizabeth, that’s enough."

"Shut up,"

She hissed.

"You’ll only make this worse."

"No. You need to shut up. This isn’t your business. It’s my decision, and I’m responsible for it."

With that, Marcus walked past her, placing himself a few meters away from Lugh.

"Let’s do this."

Lugh clicked his tongue in mild annoyance.

"Sheesh. What a dreary atmosphere. Why do you all look like you’re at a funeral? Am I really that scary?"

Everyone was momentarily speechless, thoughts swirling—this shameless son of a—

Don’t worry, Lugh said suddenly, turning back to Marcus. I won’t be moving from this spot. And I won’t be using magic in my attack.

Marcus cocked his head, confusion evident.

"And how do you intend to do that?"

Lugh shrugged nonchalantly.

"Who knows?"

Then, without any further drama, Marcus muttered under his breath and began chanting softly.

Energy began to gather in his hands, swirling and pulsing like a living storm. A powerful gale materialized, growing rapidly and vibrating with raw force.

’Can I really block this?’

Lugh wondered, a flicker of doubt briefly crossing his usually impassive face.

"Shouldn’t we have stopped this already?"

Sylvera whispered again, but Selaphiel’s steady hand held her back.

"Wait."

From the sidelines, Jahira watched with keen interest.

’That brat nearly killed Lance. No—he practically killed and revived him. None of these kids stand a chance against him.’

Nearby, Edrin observed with cold detachment, clearly uninterested.

Just when he was about to set his plan in motion to woo Isolde, his mother dragged him here to chaperone these brats.

He cursed under his breath.

’They can kill themselves for all I care.’

With a final surge of mana, Marcus released the spell. A sharp, diagonal blade of concentrated wind screamed through the air at breakneck speed, aiming directly for Lugh.

Lugh’s shield flickered into existence just moments before the collision.

The impact was violent and grating. Sparks of arcane energy erupted in every direction, sending shards of light scattering through the air. Furniture trembled and shifted, pushed backward by the force as the wind howled like a banshee caught in a storm.

’Well, this is disappointing,’

Lugh muttered to himself

The spell, though visually impressive and packed with energy, was flawed. It was oversaturated with raw mana but lacked the finesse to truly embody the physical nature of wind—a pale shadow compared to the attack Lance had wielded to shred his barrier before.

Seconds later, the attack dissipated entirely.

Lugh’s barrier remained untouched—pristine and unbroken.

Marcus’s confident posture crumbled, disbelief etched deep into his features.

"H-how is that even possible?"

Lugh stared at him calmly and motioned for him to get ready.

A cold dread pricked at Marcus’s heart, but he hurriedly set up his own shield, stretching a magical barrier in front of him. It lacked the imposing presence of Lugh’s, looking thin and fragile in comparison.

’Come to think of it,’

Marcus thought warily, the boy said he wouldn’t use magic in his attack. Was he serious?

His mind raced in a thousand directions as he caught sight of Lugh reaching into his inner pocket.

Then Lugh pulled out a gun.

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