After the battlefield had been split, Jofre was left completely alone.
Weston and the other two stepped forward, surrounding him in a loose triangle and ready to strike.
'You said you wouldn't let me off—let's see what you've got!'
After the burst of fury, Jofre suddenly drew several long breaths, his tone softening a little.
'Your plan was almost perfect, but you overlooked one thing!'
'Although you've cut off the reinforcements, on that side—'
As he spoke, he pointed toward the Mages who had come with him and the battlefield where the Sirius stood.
'No matter whether they're facing that monster or the little girl, once my men hold out until her mana is exhausted, we win!'
'And win or lose, that monster is now pinned down.'
'To keep Sirius summoned the girl can't fight, so right now you've only got two combatants left!'
'Once I finish the two of you—especially you, brat—all your spells will break. When backup arrives, you'll be finished!'
A man who could head a Dark Guild and rule several nearby Towns for a full decade could still calmly analyse the situation even after losing the initiative.
And his analysis was spot-on.
Using Arc of Embodiment to create 'Sirius' against Blue Skull's lackeys had cost Mavis mana and focus; she couldn't act right now.
—Though in the plan she'd never been meant to fight Jofre anyway.
'Speaking of which, I should thank you for that spell formation of yours.'
Jofre's voice turned cold and detached: 'With that monster rampaging, even if I ordered my men to protect me they might not obey; now, to save their own skins, they'll throw everything they've got at it!'
Weston's expression iced over. 'So you'll watch your guildmates die to buy yourself time?'
'Guildmates?'
'No, no—they're not my mates, just pieces I can discard any time.'
Jofre adjusted the spectacles on his nose, chin high. 'Dying to protect their Guild Master is an honour they should be grateful for!'
That single sentence detonated the fuses of Weston, Mavis and Zera all at once.
'You're absolute scum!'
'Unforgivable!'
'Someone who doesn't treasure comrades doesn't deserve the title Guild Master!'
Far from angry, Jofre laughed: 'Hahaha, I don't deserve the title? And Guild Master Giselev does? He cherishes his comrades, you think?'
'Don't make me laugh!'
'He and I are cut from the same cloth!'
Weston and Mavis fell silent at once.
Deep down they knew Jofre wasn't wrong.
But Zera couldn't hold back. 'Disgusting! Don't you dare compare yourself to my father—he's nothing like you!'
'Oh? So the brat is Giselev's daughter?'
Jofre glanced at her and shook his head with a sigh. 'You barely survived seven years ago; instead of lying low, you come knocking…'
'What, you think you're strong enough to avenge your old man?'
Tears trembling at the corners of her eyes, Zera clenched her teeth, fury blazing. 'Exactly. These seven years I trained every day for this moment—to kill you!'
'Then show me what you've learned, little girl!'
Jofre raised his staff high, shouted, and mana surged.
Light burst forth; a magic circle appeared above the staff, vomiting clusters of ghost-blue fireballs.
Weston dared not be careless; he quickly stepped behind Zera.
…Not because he needed her protection, it simply made things easier.
Pfft-pfft-pfft—
The fireballs hit the ground but didn't go out; instead they burned eerily, spreading in every direction like living tendrils.
In the blink of an eye the whole battlefield was ringed by a sea of blue flame.
Solid stone under the pale fire began to warp.
'The rock's softening?'
'But the flames don't feel that hot!'
Feeling the change, Zera couldn't help crying out.
'Must be something about the nature of the fire itself!'
Recalling Jofre's magic, Weston instantly understood the bizarre phenomenon.
'According to our intel, Jofre's Fearfire makes anyone struck too terrified to fight back.'
'Looks like it doesn't just work on living things—even inorganic stuff like stone is affected.'
'Huh? What kind of nonsense is that?'
Zera's eyes went wide. 'Rocks don't have minds—how can they feel fear?'
'How should I know?!'
'Maybe even inanimate objects have "souls", and his magic targets those!'
While they talked, the flames kept gushing forth.
As the blaze grew, the ground turned 'soft', rippling like a waterbed; Weston and Zera could barely stay upright.
Right then Jofre's onslaught arrived.
First shape the battlefield to your advantage, then strike when the foe can't stand steady—flawless tactics.
'Tch… fighting two kids and he still plays this safe—no wonder he's survived so long!'
With the ground heaving ever more violently, Weston had no choice but to leap clear for the moment and watch from the sidelines.
As for Zera—he wasn't worried.
This was her revenge; no one else should butt in. And with her Flame God Slayer Magic she was all but invincible here.
The instant Weston quit the field, Zera launched her own attack.
She clenched both fists, black fire gathering, then drew her arms back as if pulling a bowstring.
'Flame God's Arrows!!'
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—
Black-flame arrows stormed from the bow, streaking straight for Jofre.
Right from the start she pressed him with a barrage that left no room to breathe!
'Black fire?!'
Startled, Jofre froze for a heartbeat; by the time he reacted it was too late to block, and he scrambled backward in panic.
The black-flame shafts packed terrifying power, punching clean through solid rock and shattering it.
Though Jofre dodged at the last second and kept his life, flying rubble still pelted him into a sorry state.
Before he could even steady himself, Zera's second strike was already upon him!