Mightiest Melee Magician Chapter 106


Mightiest Melee Magician

Chapter 106 of “The All-Powerful Sorcerer”

Every gaze poured onto me.

“Will you be okay?”

“About what?”

“The ogre. In human society, they surely won’t hear anything good about them… Is it really acceptable to reveal them publicly like this? Look at your dean’s face. It’s filled with immense shock.”

There was some sense in Strang’s words.

Such magic doesn’t exist in this world.

Moreover, an ogre?

Aren’t ogres recognized as the sworn enemies of humans?

Perhaps that’s why.

Doubt was clearly mixed into the gazes fixated on me.

In the future, there would definitely be people who’d pick apart my abilities.


“There’s no way I can hide it for life.”

“…Well, that’s true.”

Those after me will continue to grow stronger, and I can’t hide my abilities forever.

I can’t enter a fight half-heartedly.

I must fight with everything I have.


‘What in the world are you?’

I didn’t feel the need to answer their questions.

For now, I should think about it after the fight is over.

I asked Jackill Gerihill.

“…Did you say I can’t make long-distance attacks?”

As I clenched my fist, the Kunkan behind me did the same.

When I took a defensive stance, Kunkan mirrored my posture.

When I cast a spell, Kunkan struck the enemy with its superior flinch.

Just like this.


Mikel Gerihill, who was just standing there dumbfounded, got hit squarely by the ogre’s fist and was sent flying.


Jackill Gerihill beside him inhaled sharply.

It’s not over yet.

As I balled up my fist, fiery flames burst into life on Kunkan’s fist.


Jackill hastily tried to cast a mana barrier but I was faster.



Jackill took a hit in an instant, but a protective shield from some artifact saved him from a fatal injury.

As I prepared my next attack, aiming for the decisive blow, Jackill tried to create distance between us.

But that, too, was in vain.

“…It’s useless.”

There was no need to close the distance.


When I thrust my fist towards Jackill’s direction, Kunkan’s arm made a precise hit.

Breaking through the barely-successfully-cast mana barrier, it continued straight to the main body, achieving another additional hit.

Struck by a fist as big as his own upper body, Jackill Gerihill flew off into the distance, nose bleeding.

Simultaneously, I clapped my hands together, casting the next spell.

5th class natural magic.

Mana Maw.

Behind Jackill, flying in that direction, a spatial rift opened and a massive maw emerged from the gap, gaping wide open.


The Mana Maw opened its jaws wide and swallowed Jackill Gerihill whole as he flew into its mouth.

“Is it… over?”


A silence like a bucket of cold water had been dumped followed.

Filling the gaps of this silence was ‘astonishment.’

The power Jackill Gerihill demonstrated was clearly surpassing that of a 5th class, reaching the level of a 6th class sorcerer.

But how could he suffer such an overwhelming defeat against me, a mere 5th class mage?

“It ended with just two punches…”


The fight had ended with just two strikes.

Jackill tried to run away, but I settled it right there on the spot.

Kind of like a fight between an adult and a child.

The reason for this outcome was simple.

Jackill Gerihill lacked the ‘practical experience’ necessary to properly utilitize six artifacts.

It’s as if the vessel was ornate, but the contents inadequate.

“…Now it’s your turn to come out.”


Creating a Fireball above my palm, I threw it into the mouth of the Mana Maw.

Immediately, bright red flames burst through the gaps of the tightly shut jaws of the Mana Maw, and the flames rapidly consumed it before soon exploding, vanishing the Mana Maw.


Where the Mana Maw had been, Jackill Gerihill lay collapsed, clutching at his shaking legs.

I said to Jackill:

“It seems that just six artifacts aren’t enough for you.”


“The artifacts you’ve brought, senior. You’re not thinking of denying it, right? That would be rather shameful…”

“Wh, what are you talking about right now!”

He shouted loudly, conscious of the surrounding eyes.

The curiosity of how I caught on was written all over his face, but I wasn’t interested.

“Well, whether it’s 6 or 16 doesn’t really matter.”

Of course, it isn’t against the academy rules for a graduate to use artifacts during a class.

But, well…

It seems to be a matter related to the ‘senior’s pride.

I walked towards Jackill Gerihill step by step.

As I approached, he instinctively tried to step backward but instead collapsed on the spot.

“Darn it…”

His body wouldn’t follow his will.

After having been hit on the head, it made sense that standing on shaky legs would be difficult.

I extended my hand towards Jackill’s face.

Simultaneously, Kunkan behind me did the same.

“Heek, heek!”

Jackill, overwhelmed by the oppressive aura of the ogre up close, tightly closed his eyes.

He was visibly trembling with fear, but instead of attacking him, I grabbed the necklace around his neck and yanked it off.


The necklace string snapped, scattering the remnants across the floor, and I muttered while holding the necklace in my hand.

“…What’s with the four necklaces? Are you collecting them by chance?”

Four necklaces.

No, four artifacts.

Plus, the one bracelet and one ring he wore added up to six artifacts, which I simply threw onto the floor.

Cling clang!

The atmosphere among the academy mates quickly shifted, mirroring the scattered artifacts on the floor.

“What? Was what he said true?”

“Did senior Jackill really use artifacts? And six of them?”

“I thought his casting speed was unrealistically fast… Using six artifacts against a junior…”

The students’ mood rapidly changed with the tide, and Jackill Gerihill couldn’t lift his head.

He had been defeated despite using six artifacts against a junior.


As the representative of the graduates.

As the youngest chief court sorcerer.

As the eldest son of the prestigious Gerihill family known for its magical lineage.

He had smeared all his honor.

“This bastard.”

Perhaps because he felt he had lost everything, or perhaps he wished to regain even a fraction of his shattered self-esteem, Jackill Gerihill, with a fierce expression he had never shown at the academy, said:

“Do you think you’ll get far? Do you think Gerihill will leave you alone? I’ll send someone right away to kill you, quietly without a mouse or bird knowing…”

His last desperate attempt…

Was that what it was?

I crouched down in front of Jackill Gerihill and asked.

“You say Gerihill won’t leave me alone? Now that I think about it, you’re right. Gerihill has always been desperate to catch me. First was Michel Gerihill, the third son. Then was Jackill Gerihill, the eldest son. Who’s next?”

“Don’t tell me, is it Lord Jorish Gerihill?”

“You filthy mongrel! How dare you mention that name!”

“…Filthy mongrel?”

It was cold.

These words had come from the mouth of the eldest son of Gerihill family, who had been persuading the innocent juniors that ‘people’ were important and tempting them to his side.

‘Filthy mongrel,’ an expression borne from an extremely aristocratic mindset that denied the dignity of anything other than their noble lineage?

Did Jackill Gerihill feel the arena’s atmosphere cooling rapidly?

He mumbled something like a plea.

“Ah, th-that… I mean…”

“Whatever, I’m frankly sick of Gerihill now.”

“Hey! Are you ignoring me right…”

I averted my gaze elsewhere.

Mikel was unconscious, and Jackill was unable to fight…

But the duel wasn’t over yet.

“Keep quiet and lie down some more.”


I stretched my finger out long, pulling the middle one back as if drawing a bowstring.

I then aimed it straight at Jackill Gerihill’s forehead.

A flick.

Jackill, who had never experienced my flicks before, had a ‘?’ float above his head.

However, those juniors who had seen my flicks several times clicked their tongues and prayed for Jackill’s swift recovery.

“That’s a flick for you.”

“Tsk tsk. He’s gonna faint again.”

“It might be better for him, fainting. At least he won’t have to feel embarrassed.”

“Just a moment…”

Jackill Gerihill moved his lips as if trying to say something, but I didn’t wait.


My merciless middle finger struck the center of Jackill Gerihill’s forehead.


He fainted on the spot with a fresh bruise on his head.

I got up and turned around.

The duel was still not over.

“…This commoner bastard. Thinking of fighting me… Ku, kugh!”

There stood Maltive Geghen, blood streaming line by line from his broken jaw.

“Hoo… Hoo…”

Hansen, barely holding a wooden sword with his trembling hand, stood firm.


The fight between them remained.

On the day I met Hansen at the academy for the first time.

Hansen promised me.

He would fight against ‘the fear invincible’ that tormented him, no matter what.

That he’d sever the tie of this cursed bond with his own hands.

Hansen’s resolve…

“Get lost, you commoner filth! Who dares to point a sword at… Ku, kugh!”

Nevertheless, it had been frozen several times at the name ‘Maltive Geghen,’ a nightmare, but it did not waver.

For Hansen.

“I will, I will fight.”


“With… with you… I’m going to fight and win.”

He was ready to fight.

The one who flinched at Hansen’s mettle was actually Maltive Geghen.

“Ku, kugh! Did you not see the wooden sword break earlier? You want to fight without a sword?”

The reason of a broken sword.

It’s an excuse insufficient to avoid the fight, even if not a real battle.

The academy mates, for Hansen’s sake, threw their wooden swords into the arena one after another.

Dozens of wooden swords accumulated in front of Maltive Geghen.

Pointing at the wooden swords, Hansen declared.

“Pi-pick it up… Let’s fight.”

He was at a dead end.

The victory of the 31st group was already a foregone conclusion, and the 1st group had been defeated.

Not landing even a single attack, his sword broken and jaw shattered.

Feeling utterly miserable would be an understatement, and the ‘commoner’ he used to view as worse than a cockroach was challenging him to a fight.

“This filthy commoner filth…”

For a noble ‘noble,’ this was an unspeakable insult.

For Maltive, who placed great importance on the honor of nobles, it was enough to drive him mad.

Therefore, Maltive picked up the sword.

If he avoided the fight, it would be the same as admitting fear of Hansen – inevitably his only choice.

“Just the way you wish, I’ll kill you.”

Maltive drew his sword and charged at Hansen.

I would not interfere in this fight.


Because I believe in Hansen.

And fulfilling this belief of mine, Hansen gritted his teeth hard enough to shatter.

“Look over there!”

“Ora! That’s aura! Sword Perito!”

With the sword radiating bluish aura, Hansen charged towards Maltive.


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