Attacking with spells was the most trivial thing—well, in magic terms at least.
Even raw mana could do some damage if the caster gave it enough density and released it at the target. But to defend against something—magical or physical? Now, that required skill.
Before someone could call themselves a sorcerer, they had to learn the technique.
Too bad, Konrad had no master to teach him.
Nor did he have to face his shortcomings until his duel with his twin.
Only after butting heads with Nimrod did he focus more on his defense.
But there was still nobody to practice with.
No defensive barrier could ever stop Lily, Gabrielle, or even Maple, so there was no point in trying. Stella was too unstable—and he was also way too busy for proper magical duels.
Even now, he fought with a sword against another armed opponent.
Stopping a steel blade was harder than stopping an offensive spell. Besides, he could have also stepped out of the way. Defensive magic now would have been only a waste of his mana.
But there was a third level to basic spells that he had only learned about.
Something he could have used here to turn the tide.
To reinforce his body, to rearrange its molecules to make it lighter, faster, or more flexible.
In simple terms, he could give himself a decent buff.
For a layman, this might have sounded easy, but it wasn't. While they weren't as complex as Lily's healing, they were far beyond anything he attempted.
Until today.
He used up most of his stamina before his duel even began. He ate that punch, getting winded.
He was on the back foot now—but he had plenty of mana to play with.
The ultimate material he could've turned into anything.
More oxygen needed in his bloodstream?
Summon, focus, and bind. Not as simple as the runes made it sound, since he had to repeat it thousands of times with precision, but it worked. His head felt lighter, and—
He got hit by another nasty blow, knocking him back an entire foot.
Yeah, buffs were useful—but only if he could still focus.
"That'll leave a bruise," he gritted out, already back on his feet.
"Who knew kids these days were so fragile?" the duke hollered. He seemed stronger with every second while Konrad was getting tired. "If you want my daughter, I won't go easy on you, boy."
"I'd take it as an offense if you did," Konrad scoffed, rubbing at the injured muscles.
They would've hurt much less if they were denser. Like, much, much more dense.
He could've turned his skin into steel or even diamond, but that would've also killed him. He would've died as an almost indestructible statue, sure, but he preferred to be alive.
Instead, he could work on his muscles—but he could only use what already existed.
Coating himself in a layer of elemental protection would have been another option. But not against the duke's artifact. If he came close, the layers would've fallen right off.
But anything semi-permanent—cast and forget—he could work with.
Techniques, ideas, mana, he had plenty. Time? He did not.
He had to cast a complex spell while dodging the duke's strikes.
There was nothing he hated more than multitasking. And whether the old man knew this or not, he was relentless. He needed to pump more oxygen into his blood even to keep up.
'Let's hope your veins won't go pop,' Lily warned him; it was a good call.
He could've also removed carbon dioxide to ease the pressure. He could even replace his whole breathing cycle like that. But again, this promised only minor gains for all the concentration.
The key was to keep it simple.
Bundling his muscles was the right choice.
Sacrifice something he didn't use, and make his vital parts much bigger and stronger.
'You could have used this technique in the carriage, too,' the demoness struck him out of the blue. 'You know, you didn't last long, even when we put in all the effort—'
That one sentence caused more damage than all the duke's strikes combined.
After all the training? Running, sparring, and defeating so many enemies—
Well, he spent most of his time with administration these days, or frozen in a bubble.
And now he faced a greatsword coming down on him while he was too distracted.
"See, you're nothing without your magic," the duke taunted him.
Thanks to telegraphing his next move, Konrad sidestepped it with ease.
But the thought wouldn't leave him alone. Was he right?
'You're a mage, not a duelist, Konrad,' Gabrielle's voice reminded him. 'This brute of a man fought countless battles, but that's all he's good for. You too, should use what you have.'
The angel's voice undid some of the damage, and he decided to take her advice.
Done running away, he redirected his leg strength into his arms.
It was a gamble, but he took many of those these days.
Rushing his spell, he was ready before the noble's next strike.
His arms felt heavier, their power explosive.
Rather than blocking a swing, he beat it right back, following it with a strike of his own.
His legs buckled, but he was able to stay upright.
The duke was not.
He fell—for the third time—and Konrad wouldn't let him up again.
His edge alignment was off, which might've saved the old man's life.
He held nothing back. His adamantite sword struck him over and over, while still on the ground. The force dented his armor plates like they were paper.
The duke rolled to his back, trying to kick him away, but his feet met his blade instead.
His painful yell echoed far and wide.
"I yield, I yield," he shouted. "For the love of the spirits, you almost cut my legs off."
"You put them in the way," Konrad noted, undoing his magic before he himself collapsed. He still had plenty of mana left, though. 'Liliske, if you'd be so kind—'
'Sure, sure,' the demoness moaned into his mind. 'You beat 'em, I heal 'em.'
"That should put an end to this now," Helena arrived at the same time as his lover. "I had enough of my nobles challenging each other to duels. Use that strength against the nomads."
Before Lord Schwertburg could answer, Lily already treated his wounds like nothing.
The duke tested his feet with a surprised groan.
"Aye, princess," he said. "I wasn't challenging his authority—but I couldn't trust my daughter on a whimpy kid. He passed. And with a talented healer like this slave, I have no doubts—"
"I'm his first wife, by the way," Lily claimed, her voice sharp.
Of course, she wouldn't let that slave thing slide.
All the cheering and murmurs that echoed on the square fell silent. Konrad might have forgotten to announce to the public that he planned a double wedding.
Let alone his preferred order that he wanted to keep a secret anyway.
"Y-you cursed bastard," was the first thing coming out of the duke's mouth after the initial shock. "So my daughter isn't good enough for you anymore?! I'm going to mince you up."
Well, that peace didn't last long. But they were preparing for war anyway.