This Bastard is Too Competent Chapter 212 - The Real Fortune Teller

 

 

“So hand it over. That power.”

 

Ian’s gaze was sharp as he looked at the fortune teller. Naturally so.

 

The moment he shattered this strange space using the power of Faith—

 

[Can you hear me now?]

 

‘Yeah. Loud and clear.’

 

—that was the moment he began to hear the voice of the helmet.

 

[That guy seems to have at least three different powers.]

 

‘No, just two.’

 

[What? But…] 

 

‘It’s not foresight. If he could see the future, he would have dodged my attack.’

 

[!]

 

Ian had already discerned the nature of the man’s abilities.

 

‘He possesses the power to sway one’s heart, as if trying to control them, as well as the ability to bewitch others.’

 

Though similar, deception and emotional manipulation were distinct. Deception tricked the eyes, while manipulation fooled the heart. And Ian was certain it was tied to the Seven Virtues—the way his Faith resonated proved it.

 

Woong Woong!

 

His power cried out, filled with longing and sorrow.

 

So Ian raised his sword.

 

“It would be best for you to hand it over while I’m still being nice.”

 

Yet, the fortune teller remained silent, his eyes locked onto his severed arm, filled with despair.

 

“Why… Why aren’t you following your destiny? Don’t you wish to build a great empire?”

 

Rather than answering, he simply mumbled nonsense. Ian’s unexpected attack had left him in shock, stripping away the honorifics he had previously used. His words now carried a desperate, almost pleading tone.

 

Ian merely smirked.

 

“Destiny? And who decides what destiny is? I carve my own fate.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m tired of being controlled by others. No one will ever decide my fate again,” Ian declared, his gaze sharp.

 

“Build a great empire? I can achieve that on my own. I don’t need your help.”

 

He had his knights, his comrades. Unlike in his past life, he was no longer alone.

 

‘The Second Princess, Mother, my younger sister… Even the people of Bahara stand with me.’

 

But more than anything—

 

After being used and betrayed in his past life, he had made a firm decision.

 

“From the very beginning, you tried to manipulate me. I have no use for someone like you.”

 

Ian had no intention of holding back any longer. He lunged at the fortune teller.

 

“I don’t know who you really are, but…”

 

This man had sought to use him. He was an enemy, nothing more. There was no need for mercy. Ian’s sword flashed toward the fortune teller’s neck.

 

“I’ll be taking that power now!”

At that moment—

 

The fortune teller, his expression grim, swung his remaining arm. The air before him rippled like waves.

 

Bang!

 

Ian’s sword struck the ripple but couldn’t break through. It was as if he had thrust his blade into a massive waterfall, only to be repelled by the immense force.

 

The helmet’s voice rang out.

 

[He’s a mage! That guy is a mage!]

 

‘I already know.’

 

Ian had encountered this before in his past life. A fundamental spell used by mages: [Shield]. A defensive barrier that blocked attacks. Ian took a step back, adjusting his stance.

 

“So, you’re a mage after all. That explains the tricks.”

 

If he was a high-ranking mage, manipulating visions would be effortless.

 

And this strange, unnatural space? If he could invite others into it, that meant his power was formidable.

 

Ian focused on the fortune teller’s movements.

 

‘But even as a magician, he can’t control minds.’

 

That was something only the Seven Virtues and Seven Sins could do. Even the power of prophecy was something that only one entity in ancient times could possess

 

The fortune teller clutched his severed arm and spoke.

 

“Let’s stop here. It seems our meeting ends now. The time is too early.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. No matter when you came to me, my answer would remain the same. I carve my own fate.”

 

Their eyes clashed like sharpened blades, both reading into the other’s intent. But the fortune teller—no, the magician—simply shook his head.

 

“You are still young. You do not understand. Fate is determined by the heavens. No human power can change it.”

 

“Really? I don’t think so.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve already changed my fate once.”

 

It was no bluff.

 

In his past life, he had been nothing more than a puppet of Duke Garcia, a mere serf. Betrayed. Killed.

 

But in this life, he had crushed Garcia himself.

 

That was why he could say this with certainty—

 

“No one decides my fate but me.”

 

Ian studied the mage’s [Shield]. Though powerful, it wasn’t invincible. He raised his sword.

 

“If that’s your only defense… you’re in trouble.”

 

The fortune teller shook his head.

 

“This is enough. I do not wish to see you harmed.”

 

“Harmed? Me?”

 

“This shield is special. No sword, no matter how strong, can break through it.”

 

As he spoke, the [Shield] changed.

 

Rumble!

 

The once calm shield transformed into a turbulent surge, resembling a violent sea storm. It was as fierce as Duke Lavaltor’s tempest.

 

The fortune teller lifted his remaining arm.

 

“Until we meet again.”

 

In that instant, his body began to glow.

 

The helmet shouted in alarm.

 

[Two spells at once? That… that’s beyond an ordinary mage’s ability!]

 

‘Don’t tell me… Is he a Grand Magus?’

 

[Exactly. Only a Grand Magus wields power beyond that of an ordinary mage.]

 

A Grand Magus.

 

While ordinary mages sought truth, a Grand Magus had already attained it. Some even claimed they could rival dragons in power. A master of magic, capable of single-handedly facing tens of thousands of troops—standing on equal footing with even the greatest knights, like Duke Lavaltor.

 

[But something is off. For a Grand Magus, he seems too weak.]

 

‘You call that weak?’

 

Ian had struck with his full force, yet his attack had been stopped by what appeared to be nothing more than a simple barrier.

 

[Of course. If he were a true Grand Magus, the moment you attacked, you would have been the one struck down instead.]

 

Clearly, something wasn’t right. But that wasn’t Ian’s priority right now.

 

[Hurry! He’s escaping!]

 

The helmet was right. The magician’s body was glowing—he was beginning to disappear. A teleportation spell, one that only Grand Magi could wield. He was trying to flee.

 

Without hesitation, Ian sheathed his sword and charged toward the shield.

 

Crack!

 

A violent wave of force crashed against him. The overwhelming pressure tore at his body and shredded his clothes. But Ian didn’t stop. He reached out, grabbing hold of the [Shield] with both hands, and pushed forward.

 

“No one blocks my path!”

 

This was the power of Faith, something only Ian possessed.

 

In an instant, his hands tore through the turbulent shield. But the completion of the spell was even faster.

 

“Until next time.”

 

The magician’s body was vanishing into the light.

 

Grab!

 

Just in time, Ian’s hand caught hold of his chest.

 

The magician’s eyes widened in shock.

 

“H-How…?”

 

He couldn’t understand how Ian had broken through what should have been an impenetrable defense.

 

But Ian, still reeling from the force of the surge, gritted his teeth and shouted,

 

“You think you can just leave? I told you to hand it over!”

 

Yet, the teleportation spell had already been completed.

 

Zzzt!

 

The magician disappeared—but not entirely.

 

Rip!

 

Unlike his body, a part of the fabric on his chest was torn away. No, it wasn’t just his clothing.

 

Thud!

 

With a dull sound, something fell to the ground.

 

The helmet sighed in disappointment.

 

[What a shame. We let him escape.]

 

“No. It’s not a shame at all.”

 

[What?]

 

“There’s something left.”

 

Ian raised his hand.

 

In it, along with a scrap of the magician’s robe, was something far more valuable.

 

Woong!

 

A fragment of the magician’s power.

 

“Even if he wanted to leave, he should at least have the decency to hand over what’s mine.”

 

[That’s quite impressive.]

 

As the helmet hummed in approval, Ian smirked.

 

***

 

Far from Santamo, in a remote location…

 

The man who had disguised himself as a fortune teller collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.

 

A figure rushed toward him.

 

“Grand Master! Are you all right?!”

 

He hurriedly reached out to support the fallen magician, his face stricken with shock. The Grand Master’s robe was in tatters, and worse yet, he was missing an arm.

 

But the Grand Master refused his aid.

 

“I’m… fine.”

 

Of course, he was far from fine. His magic had been interrupted, and, on top of that, Ian had stolen a portion of his power.

 

For someone at the pinnacle of magic, the cost was devastating—so much so that he coughed up blood.

 

The man standing beside him clenched his fists, his expression dark with anger.

 

“Who… who would dare attack the Grand Master?”

 

For generations, the Grand Master had been the guiding light of countless mages. Who would dare challenge such a figure?

 

But the Grand Master raised a hand, stopping him.

 

“Enough. This is my fate.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I underestimated him. But it doesn’t matter now.”

 

After a moment, the Grand Master steadied himself and slowly rose to his feet.

 

His once-pristine gray robe was in shreds, soaked in blood.

 

Yet, as he extended his hand—

 

Shhhk.

 

In an instant, his robe was restored, its torn fabric weaving itself whole once more.

 

And his missing arm—

 

Regrew.

 

The man gasped.

 

“G-Grand Master?”

 

The Grand Master looked at himself and nodded.

 

“It’s done. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

 

“But, Grand Master… shouldn’t we take revenge? Allow me to report this to Lord Leon—he will surely—”

 

“No. That won’t be necessary.” 

 

“But…”

 

“This was my mistake. I acted too soon… I needed more time.”

 

The Grand Master shook his head.

 

Something had gone wrong.

 

When he had foreseen the future, Ian’s fate had been intertwined with his.

 

‘Where did it go wrong?’

 

Why had Ian defied his fate?

 

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand.

 

Pushing aside his thoughts, he finally spoke.

 

“Let’s go back.”

 

“Where to?”

 

“Leon must be anxiously waiting. If we delay any longer, he may start getting… ideas.”

 

“That cannot be! Lord Leon respects you above all others.”

 

The Grand Master chuckled, shaking his head.

 

“Does he, truly?”

 

Among all those he had nurtured, Leon was the most talented, the most brilliant.

 

But he was also the most skeptical.

 

Just his disappearance alone must have sent Leon’s mind racing with suspicions.

 

‘I must remain by his side a little longer. Only then can fate be fulfilled.’

 

And he had to be wary of the one standing next to Leon.

 

A mage—one who followed Leon over him. A mage who, without realizing it, was already in awe of Leon.

 

‘That’s why I chose Leon…’

 

Yet, strangely, a hint of regret lingered.

 

With a glance,

 

The Grand Master silently turned his gaze in Ian’s direction.

 

‘We will meet again soon. I will make sure of it… Your Majesty.’

 

Raising his hand, the Grand Master conjured a burst of light.

 

And just like that—

 

He and the man beside him vanished, as if they had never been there to begin with.

 

***

  

“Tsk. Is this all?”

 

Ian frowned.

 

It was good that he had managed to extract a fragment of the magician’s power. But the amount was far less than he had expected.

 

“This isn’t even enough to be called a fragment.”

 

[It’s a bit ambiguous.]

 

The power was insufficient to awaken the Seven Virtues, a force Ian had yet to fully harness. It was just barely enough. If only he had a little more—just a bit more—he could grasp the power he sought.

 

Ian’s gaze shifted.

 

“Should I try waking this guy up first?”

 

[A good idea.]

 

He walked over to the unconscious fortune teller—the real one this time.

 

“Hey. Wake up.”

 

Tap, tap.

 

Ian nudged him carelessly with his foot.

 

The man groaned and slowly sat up, his eyes fluttering open in confusion.

 

“Wh… Who are you?”

 

Ian smirked.

 

“You call yourself a fortune teller, yet you can’t even predict that?”

 

“T-That’s….”

 

The fortune teller seemed disoriented. He hadn’t expected an attack, let alone Ian’s arrival. But after a moment, he composed himself.

 

“Are you… the one who brought the Lion’s Banner?”

 

Ian’s brows furrowed.

 

“Lion?”

 

“Today’s fortune foretold that great fortune and great misfortune would come together. You must be the one who carried the Lion’s Banner and warded off my death.”

 

Ian’s eyes gleamed.

 

‘A lion… Could he be referring to Kaistein’s emblem?’

 

Indeed, the symbol of Kaistein was a lion—one that commanded the world. As the prince of Kaistein, Ian had indeed arrived bearing that very symbol.

 

‘This guy… He’s not just some random street fortune teller, is he?’

 

But something felt off.

 

Ian narrowed his eyes.

 

“Your fortune? You mean you didn’t read it yourself?”

 

“T-That is…”

 

For a moment, he hesitated, torn between keeping a secret he had never told anyone and revealing the truth. After a brief internal struggle, he finally spoke.

 

“To tell you the truth… I’m not actually a fortune teller. I’ve only been playing the role of one.”

 

“What?”

 

“The real fortune teller is in hiding.”

 

“And where is this ‘real’ fortune teller now?”

 

“They’re waiting for you nearby… to avoid misfortune.”

 

Ian smirked.

 

“Oh? Then lead the way.”

 

And so, Ian finally met the real fortune teller.

 

They were waiting in a rundown house, tucked away in a secluded area—far from prying eyes.

 

But the moment Ian stepped inside, he froze.

 

“Huh?”

 

The fortune teller before him was no ordinary seer.

 

The radiant energy emanating from them was unmistakable—

 

“The Seven Virtues…?”

 

This person didn’t just possess a fragment.

 

They held the complete power of the Seven Virtues—the very power Ian had been seeking.