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WAKIAGARU
The Failed Mage

The Failed Mage

His sword swiped through open air as the witch Kat jumped and did a summersault, landing behind him.

Crack!

Had he not turned and raised his sword in defense, she would not have pulled her whip back. The only reason she did so was to save it from getting severed on his blade—not that his blade would actually cut the thing—but she didn’t know that.

The girl giggled. “Nice try, mage.”

She reached out a hand, and Lawrence braced himself for whatever would come his way. Her being a witch’s pupil or whatever she was, he was on his guard.

Something hit him in the back of the head and he stumbled forward, though he was too sure-footed to fall over.

She laughed again as he rubbed the back of his head, the small broken clay pot lay on in the street beside him.

“You better watch out.”

This fight is not going at all the way I imagined it.

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Kat tilted her head and made to look pouty with her full lips. “What’s wrong?”

Wind blew through the thoroughfare between the machiyas rustling his kimono. It was chilly as the dark clouds rumbled overhead. “Nothing is wrong.”

Lawrence wanted to glance in Haku’s direction, but did not, instead maintaining complete concentration on the opponent before him as her mistress, still standing in the doorway of the tower, watched.

“Are you entirely certain, mage?”

Annoying girl…

He wanted to lob a fireball in her face, but he knew she would either dodge or perform some artful witch’s trick.

I need to get to Sakura. This is a waste of my time.

She did something with her hands—made some kind of complex gesture, and suddenly she blinked in a sort of flickering motion.

One moment she was where she was, and then suddenly she had closed the gap between them, reappearing before him.

The failed mage reacted, but he was too slow.

She punched him in the gut, doubling him over, then she flickered again. He was on the paving stones, another dull pain blossoming in the back of his neck.

Rolling over, he defended himself with his blade, but it was too late—she was already standing, not phased in the least, the distance between them there again.

How did she…?

The thought of Sakura with that deranged little man was breaking his composure and concentration. It was magic. Of course.

He knew what magic looked like.

“All right, mage?”

Lawrence gritted his teeth. If this keeps up, he would never even come close to fighting this girl off.

She giggled, but her mirth was interrupted when heavy raindrops began to fall. “Tch!”