Chapter 125: The Lightning Mage

Since then, stopping by the guild with everyone in the evenings for a drink before parting had become our daily routine.

On the seventh day, a worn-out looking bunch approached our table.

“We’re Wrath of the Thunder God. I’m the leader, Jeffrey. Which one of you is Leon?”

“I am. You heard the story from the sub-master, right?”

“Yeah. Spending a whole day with you for two gold coins—no mistake there, right?”

“Of course. Is meeting at the west gate tomorrow morning alright with you?”

“I’ve got one condition. They say you swung a dragon around—show us that skill. That’s the price for letting you see Terry’s lightning magic.”

“Sure. But I can’t use a dragon on demand, so it’ll just be a big whirlwind.”

“That’s fine. West gate tomorrow.”

After saying only that, he turned away and went to order ale. Blunt, but not hostile—so it’s fine.

“Leon, you’re really gonna pay two whole gold coins?”
“I’ll pay. If this helps him use lightning magic, it’s cheap.”
“So Gale will finally be able to use lightning magic, huh?”

“You can’t just drag a mage out and say ‘show me your magic’. My acquaintance once asked someone to teach him a Fireball and was charged a huge sum. Mages train desperately after they receive magic. Paying them for losing a day’s earnings is only fair.”

“Yeah… I’m really lucky I met you, Leon.”

“Well, they’re not a shady party, so observing their magic should be fine.”
“Exactly. Even learning search magic took a ton of practice. Watch carefully.”
“In the end Leon will fix anything anyway.”

“Hey now. It’s hard teaching someone who can’t use the magic at all.”

“So… you’re good at correcting mages who already can use magic.”

“Depends on the person.”

Next Morning

We met Wrath of the Thunder God at the west gate and headed to the place we used before for barrier training—only to run into trouble.

“A perfect target shows up. Gale, can you cover us all?”

“A pack of Carrions. You guys come closer to us.”

“Hah? Carrions are nothing—we’ll take care of them.”

“You can have the kills, but today you promised to show him lightning magic. Let him watch closely.”

Scott’s words convinced Jeffrey.
“Terry, you’re up,” he said, and a big sluggish-looking man stepped forward.

Gale began muttering fake chant sounds—following the rule of not revealing one’s real chant, imitating a shortened one.

He finished the barrier dome and opened a hole. “Shoot from here,” he said. Terry looked surprised, but as soon as he saw the Carrions charging, he thrust his arm out and began chanting.

“O Creator Goddess Felicienne, grant me the Wrath of the Thunder God that I may smite my enemy… HAA!”
<Pari-pari-PAAN!>

With a surprisingly light crack, lightning hit a Carrion’s waist and it collapsed.

“One more!”

He chanted again. This time the bolt hit closer and the Carrion convulsed.

“Ah—they’re running! Leon!”

Can’t waste the prey.
I muttered my pretend chant—“Daruma-san fell over”—and used a whirlwind to catch three of them.

“Well well, so that’s your whirlwind.”

“A silent shortened chant, huh? Fast.”

“They said you swung a dragon, but this is…”

“I’ll show that after we finish watching the lightning magic.”

My whirlwind spun the Carrions until they were dizzy, and Steve’s group finished them off with their spears and carried them to Jeffrey.

“Here you go.”

“O-oh… thanks.”

He was oddly awkward around Steve’s group.

Thirteen lightning shots later, Jeffrey said.

“Any more and we might run into trouble if something happens. We’re done.”

He said Terry’s magic power was around 76. With tighter mana control he could probably fire more.
Still, he didn’t ask me a single question—maybe pride kept him from learning from someone younger.

At the end, we moved to the forest edge. Using a thick tree as a target, I created a big Whirlwind, infused with about three mana, raising it higher. It wrapped around the tree, stripping leaves, snapping branches, roaring violently.
The seven from Wrath of the Thunder God trembled. Even Steve’s group looked pale, though Mintz and Scott pretended to stay calm after seeing my tornado before.

I dispelled it after only three minutes to avoid rumors.

“That’s the magic you wanted to see. Any more and people will start talking, so let’s stop here.”

“O-okay… incredible…”
“So that’s what swung a dragon…”
“The tree’s basically bare… no, half its branches are gone!”
“We’re nowhere near this level…”

Their faces were pale and shaking—so probably honest reactions.

After thanking them and paying the promised two gold coins (Gale handed them over), we split up and went to our usual hunting ground.

Afterward

“Man, a full-power whirlwind is scary…”

“So when you spin goblins and horn boars, you’re holding back?”

“If Leon goes all-out, things fly into the heavens.”

“I thought I knew his magic, but he’s leveled up. Imagine him making a full tornado…”

“I don’t actually want to see that.”

“Leon!”

“Nope. No practicing lightning right now—we don’t want the sound heard. We’ll practice accuracy and technique based on what we saw. No doing your own thing.”

“Okay! I’ll follow your teaching. I can tell my mana increased too!”

“You can’t learn magic from that alone, though…”

“Of course not. But you heard the chant, right?”

“Huh? But can’t the chant be… like, just one word?”

“Shortened chants only work once you can already use the magic normally. Chanting means: declare the spell, choose the target, release the magic. A shortened chant is useless until you can actually do all that.”

“Gale, remember in barrier training you used to say ‘get harder’?”

“Oh yeah. So you asked for a lightning mage so I could learn the chant.”

Not exactly, but close enough.
Since he already uses barrier magic, once he gets the spark of understanding, lightning should come quickly.

Next Morning

We joined Steve’s group, and Gale eagerly clung to me.

“Leon, we can practice today, right? Right?”

“Leon, we’re fine—teach him.”
“If he can use lightning, we’ll feel safer when you’re not around.”

“Alright, back to yesterday’s spot. Gale, you memorized the chant, right?”

“Of course! Umm—‘O Creator Goddess Felicienne, grant me the Wrath of the Thunder God so I may—’”

“Yes yes, save it for the training ground.”

Mintz snorted with laughter, and Steve’s group looked exhausted. Apparently he muttered it all night.

Training

I had Gale create a dome 30 meters from a target tree.
I forbade close-range shots—told him I’d explain later.

“Don’t take your eyes off the target tree. Chant, then release your mana toward it.”

He nodded seriously, opened a hole in the dome, slapped his own cheek for motivation, and began.

“O Creator Goddess Felicienne… smite my enemy—HAA!”
<Pari-pari-PAAN!>

Lightning crawled along the tree’s surface; leaves fell lightly.
Compared to real lightning videos on YouTube—where trees split, burst into flames, or exploded—this was gentle.

“Whoa, first try!”
“Nice, Gale!”
“Good, we can rely on you!”
“Try another!”

He fired two more bolts, face red with excitement.

“Okay, stop. Now we try shortened chants.”

“Shortened chants… what’s good…?”

“For the dome, you used ‘Dome!’. So how about ‘Lightning!’?”
“Yeah, prey will run if you chant forever.”
“Try it. Just say ‘Lightning!’”

He tried:

“Lightning… HAA!” …nothing.
Again.
And again.

“Gale, not yet. Try something like: ‘I, Gale, command you—strike that tree!’ Also good as a fake shortened chant if someone asks. Even Terry could’ve used that.”

“Uh… ‘I, Gale, command you—strike that tree with lightning!’?”

“Ooh, sounds like a real mage!”
“Darn, I wanted magic too…”
“Try it!”

“I, Gale, command you—strike that tree with lightning! …HAA!”
<Pari-pari-PAAN!>