Bang.
Another shot.
Magic Proficiency: 303
The opponent instinctively dodged to the side, but the bullet only hit the leg area, causing a brief pause in their movement. Health decreased by another 200 points, leaving 4100—a decent amount for someone of a high Order rank.
But the injury seemed minor. They turned back, glaring viciously at Sean.
"Lackey of the Count, die!" The enemy, mistaking Sean for an ordinary soldier, charged straight at him with a blade. The bleeding effect slowed their movements due to pain, giving Sean a chance to maneuver.
After dodging once, Sean pulled a short knife from his waist and countered, the impact jarring his arm numb.
At the same time, as he raised his pistol with the other hand, the opponent instinctively flinched back, widening the distance again.
In terms of Order rank, Sean was currently Level 4, not far off from the enemy. But in close-combat strength and battle experience, he was no match for a revolutionary who had spent years fighting on the edge of life and death.
He fired a few more shots at the opponent.
Some were dodged; others were blocked by the enemy's blade.
Sean rarely had the chance to fight personally, but these recent skirmishes had revealed something: the Eye of Ghehros didn't activate easily unless he was facing an attack he couldn't possibly avoid, or unless he deliberately let the enemy strike him.
That eye, like an invisible force hovering above him, always saved his life at the most critical moments.
Still, he was grateful for it. It gave him the courage to fight.
For someone from a peaceful era, picking up a blade and charging into battle wasn't something you learned overnight. Unless desperation drove you to the brink—with the resolve of "if you don't die, I will"—it was hard to swing wildly. But Ghehros's protection was like a safety net.
Like a power backing him up.
A constant whisper: go ahead, take risks; worst case, indiscriminate madness.
Sean moved quickly, firing again. This time, the bullet hit the opponent's arm. The bleeding and vulnerability effects nearly knocked the blade from their hand.
So close.
He watched the enemy panting, their hand occasionally pressing against the wound on their chest.
Though their face stayed composed, the status above their head showed pain and endurance.
The bleeding and vulnerability effects were bullet properties Sean had recently developed, and this was his first real test.
After the last fight with the revolutionaries, where his proficiency had increased, Sean realized the key to improvement: he had to fight enemies of the same or higher level.
Before that, battling mobs or applying buffs to ordinary, unranked targets had worked. When his level was low, any use of magic boosted proficiency. But once he reached a certain level, he needed to target high-ranking foes.
His brief clash with the revolutionary member last time had shown him this.
Inflicting damage on high-level enemies consumed more of his magic, and in turn, proficiency grew.
It seemed the rule of "more experience from stronger monsters" applied in this world too.
"What, does it hurt?" Sean taunted, deliberately provoking the enemy.
He stepped back a few paces. Aslant had already led part of the group toward the enemy ranks, drawing some revolutionaries away. Sean's position now felt like the edge of the battlefield.
"Lackey, even if I die here today, you won't get off easy—drink!" The enemy roared in fury.
Sean had hoped to goad them into a mistake, but instead, they charged straight into a deathmatch.
He scrambled to dodge, abandoning caution to grab a slightly longer weapon from the ground, all while telling himself: Don't be afraid. You can still fight.
Raising the polearm to block the enemy's strike, a heavy blow jarred his arm.
Despite taking so many bullets and losing over a thousand health from bleeding, the enemy still had that much strength.
"What, running out of steam?" Sean sneered.
His own anger flared. Unable to use a gun while wielding the polearm, he switched to magic. Since his spells were cast based on thought, within the limits of his ability, faster thinking meant more varied magic.
He shoved the polearm forward, and flames instantly erupted along its length.
It was the quickest, most ferocious attack Sean could think of in that moment.
"You can use magic too?" The enemy exclaimed, unable to resist clutching their wound again. No wonder those bullets had hurt so much.
Their blades clashed again.
The pace was fast. If they weren't the same level, Sean might not have kept up. He had to watch every move, think of counter-strategies, and mentally control the magic's form.
He needed to think faster.
He let go of the polearm with both hands.
Slap.
He clapped his hands together in front of his chest.
"Look closely!"
From his palms, he pulled out a flash of light.
Flash.
The revolutionary soldier probably hadn't expected Sean to say that. They instinctively glanced at his hands, but the flash forced their eyes shut.
Time was short. At Sean's speed, he couldn't draw another weapon to strike, and even with closed eyes, the enemy could still swing blindly.
So he slapped his hand directly onto the wound on the enemy's chest.
Solidify Blade.
Magic Proficiency: 304.
The blood congealed at the injury.
Poison Strike.
Laceration.
Magic Proficiency: 305.
Magic Proficiency: 306.
Each spell was conceived in the moment. It felt as if he were gripping a real weapon in his palm. He slashed downward forcefully while ducking low and running to the side.
"Ah!"
A scream rang out.
But as he turned his back, Sean instinctively realized he was exposed. If the enemy struck with a dying blow, that eye might just appear.
In less than a second.
As Sean leaped out of the enemy's attack range, he was relieved they hadn't followed his script. But when he looked back, he saw another sword piercing through the opponent's body.
"Sir Sean, are you alright?"
Uh.
Standing before him was a figure with a long golden ponytail, long bangs framing a pair of blue eyes.
Latina.
What was she doing here?
Sean had thought he'd found his own unique fighting style, only to have her steal the kill.
"I'm fine." Sean stood up.
Good thing he didn't have an experience bar, or this kind of move would get him kicked out.