There were all kinds of rumors about Mages.
In fact, there were not a few who doubted their very existence. It had been thousands of years since the Divine War had ended, and the influence of the Dark Cult had long since disappeared.
However, nobles were somewhat aware. They knew that they were not merely legendary beings.
The specifics of their past were not known.
Some said they were on a level capable of single-handedly facing a knight order, while others claimed that an army was needed to bring them down.
But one common opinion existed in either case.
At the very least, they were not an enemy one could face alone.
They were beings who had sacrificed something precious to receive power from the Evil God Omelos in return. They were the vanguard leading the ground invasion of Delphrium and the rulers of monsters.
Naturally, they possessed strength commensurate with their position.
And I was currently realizing that fact more than anyone else.
Blood and water draw a line in the void.
I had only glanced away for a moment. In that fleeting moment, a claw swept down and left a long gash on my cheek.
If I had been just a little slower, it wouldn’t have been blood but my head that would have burst open.
However, there was no time to calmly assess my opponent’s strength. The claw was being swung again at high speed, targeting my head.
If things continued like this, there would be no answer. No matter how much I swung my sword, I was only being pushed back gradually.
I had one sword, but my opponent had two hands. That was causing the fundamental disparity in speed.
Moreover, the monster’s arms were long, and its claws were sharp. The reach difference was absolute.
My breath had already become ragged. Scars had been carved across my body.
I was nearing my limit.
In the end, I had no choice but to throw myself forward, cursing.
“…Damn it!”
It was more of a scream than a curse. As my body rolled on the ground, a silver line was drawn in the air. There lingered a bluish light.
It was aura. The light I had seen that night was not an illusion.
Being a skilled person like Guildford, he could surely imbue his claws with aura.
That made things all the more difficult.
The aura of a master who had reached Sword Expert manifests the mind.
In other words, it meant distorting reality. An example was Senior Delphine’s aura, which emitted high heat without any heat source. Guildford’s aura was the same.
Hallucination.
At least that was how it appeared to me. The positions of the claws tracing peculiar trajectories were slightly different from what I perceived in my line of sight.
It seemed like a trivial ability, but battles between masters were decided by very small differences. Especially if it was a power that disturbed the sense of sight, which accounts for a large majority of human perception, it was highly threatening.
As long as I didn’t close my eyes, I couldn’t be free from my sight.
Closing my eyes would mean cutting off more than half of my senses, leading to a deadlock.
With a thud, the claw penetrated the ground just as I had gritted my teeth and rolled to avoid the spot.
The monster let out a roar.
“Is that all you’ve got?!”
Before I knew it, a beastly growl was mixed in with that voice. Nevertheless, there was still a hint of human emotion felt within it.
Anger and regret; it was laughable. A monster speaking like that.
I quickly rose and threw my hand axe. The air was sliced apart, and a beam of light shot forth. It was in the blink of an eye.
If the opponent were an inexperienced swordsman, this throw would have settled the matter.
However, the monster displayed an unimaginable response.
Without any defense, it ignored the hand axe as it buried itself into its skin.
Even if the thick hide of the monster was cut by the axe blade, it could not inflict a deep wound. Considering the monster’s recovery ability, it would be completely healed in just a few seconds. The skin was already bubbling and regenerating.
Such a fundamental difference existed between humans and mages. Fighting against a mage was also a battle against common sense.
Flustered, I decided to retrieve my hand axe as originally intended. The hesitation that arose in that moment was my fatal mistake.
While I hesitated, the rushing monster’s two arms drew a distorted cross. As claws and sword collided, sparks flew.
Then came the struggle, my arms trembling.
Guildford, transformed into a monkey monster, possessed physically abilities of a different dimension. Until now, I had been in a position of overwhelming dominance, but now it was the complete opposite.
Previously, I had overcome the difference in skill by suppressing it with physical ability. Losing that one advantage meant I was now completely on the defensive.
I could hear the beast’s rancid breath. Its blazing blue pupils stared at me.
“Didn’t I teach you! You must keep your eyes on the sword until the very end!”
The monster said, growling, as if it were a strict teacher scolding a student.
I couldn’t help but shout in disbelief.
“…Is a sword and a claw the same thing?!”
Again, the sword was one, and the hands were two. The disparity was clear.
However, the monster seemed uninterested in hearing my excuses.
With a snap, the monster twisted its wrist, trapping my sword between its claws. I tried to pull my arm away in a panic, but it was impossible.
A kick exploded into my solar plexus.
It was a clean strike that pierced into the gaps of my bones like a drill.
In an instant, my breath stopped. For that brief moment, I didn’t even feel the pain. This sensation felt like time had stopped.
When I came to my senses, I was already rolling on the ground. I had even lost my sword.
Gah, I groaned. Just one shot to the vital point and my vision had blurred.
The mage, who had pinned my sword between its claws, indifferently tossed it back toward me.
The sword rolled, scraping against the ground, and I crawled to grab it.
And just as I barely managed to rise, bluish rays poured down onto my upper body as if waiting.
It was the claw imbued with aura. I thought I could avoid it.
So, I stepped back at the last moment, but it was already too late.
Five streams of blood embroidered the air.
It was an illusion. The claws were positioned slightly ahead of the trajectory I had detected.
Staggering, my body took a step back. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it was a rather deep cut.
Dizziness overcame me from the sudden blood loss. Even so, I gritted my teeth and tried to swing my sword.
If only I hadn’t gotten trapped between the crossing claws again.
The incoming strike was clear. Once more, a kick aimed at my solar plexus.
The ‘Shield of Faith’ had long since shattered. The internal organs within could no longer withstand the impact and exploded chaos.
Gurgling, blood surged up my throat. My vision became even blurrier.
Hah, I struggled just to catch my breath.
It hurt and I was in pain. I wanted to close my eyes and seek rest.
The sound of metal scraping against the ground awakened my fading consciousness.
My focus-deficient eyes turned toward the source. My sword had been thrown again, toward me.
The beast was looking down at me with its burning blue pupils.
“…Is this the end?”
A stifled laugh escaped my lips.
Blood surged into my mouth. I spat it out with my trembling jaw muscles that were exhausted to the limit.
Then I crawled on the ground again, reaching for the sword.
I could barely maintain my balance. My leg muscles trembled, pleading for relief.
But I stood up. Using my sword as a staff, I bit down hard.
With a precarious movement, I pointed the sword at the monster. That was my answer.
The monster nodded, as if it had expected this. Then came a sudden sharp intuition.
I opened my eyes wide and watched the trajectory until the very end.
The foundation of the post-latency preemptive strike lies in following the flow. As I stepped forward, I spun around riding that flow.
Yes, that had to be the way.
But just as I was about to twist my body, another kick came crashing down.
This time it was at my side. It wasn’t a vital spot, but it was no less than a fatal blow for me, whose insides were already spilling out.
My body rolled along the ground once more. Now I lacked the strength to rise again.
The evaluation from my master, transformed into a monster, was cold.
“…It’s too late. You hesitated again at the end.”
Because life is precious, isn’t it natural?
I was about to interject but stopped. More precisely, I didn’t have the strength to do so.
My eyes gradually closed. A cozy slumber was creeping in, sapping my strength.
This can’t be happening.
I could hear cries of distress. Shouts and the clash of metal; someone was waiting for me.
But my eyelids felt too heavy. Sleep kept trying to claim me.
At the moment I closed my eyes—
“…Submit.”
The voice struck my ear like lightning; I snapped back to reality.
The world crumbled like a domino. A flood of white memories overlaid my fading consciousness.
A landscape engraved with two figures.
The man among them was groaning as he lay on the ground. Judging by his contorted face, he seemed to be in great pain.
With a moan, he let out a half-hearted voice.
“Does doing that even help you master martial arts?”
It was a cynical question, but the woman only smiled proudly with a hmpf.
She was clapping her hands. Just from that, it was clear who had pinned the man to the ground.
The woman gazing at the man spoke.
“Is there anything that the world-trotting crow doesn’t know?”
“…If I truly knew everything, would I be wandering around the continent?”
At the man’s curt reply, the woman laughed lightly, as if hearing an amusing joke.
After a moment of wearing a cheerful expression, she then spoke softly to the man.
“The essence of martial arts cannot be explained merely in theory. Only by understanding its ideological roots can one truly grasp its history and intention. Among them, ‘submission’ is the core of the Holy Kingdom’s vision of martial arts.”
“…Isn’t that quite empty?”
It was an unexpected question.
The woman looked a bit taken aback, widening her eyes, and stared at the man.
He took a deep breath and countered.
“Ultimately, it means you must act according to the will of the divine, right? It seems empty if you die doing that.”
Huh, the woman made a strange sound, slightly averting her gaze.
Then she approached the man, her hands behind her back, with an unreadable smile.
“What if even that is my will?”
“Even so…”
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over the man’s face.
The woman’s playful smile spread across his pupils. The man fell silent.
So beautiful, or for whatever reason.
He seemed shy and averted his gaze.
Shushing, the woman brought her finger to her nose and whispered.
“When in doubt, remember this phrase. This too is a core of the Holy Kingdom’s vision.”
“…What phrase?”
The woman looked down at the man with her clear eyes. Their shadows gradually overlapped.
“…Immanuel (God is with us).”
I wonder if you can understand its meaning; the sweet voice that added that lingered in my ear.
Once again, the world crumbled.
Guildford silently looked down at I-an.
He was a strong human. In both physical strength and mental acuity, he was formidable.
Yet even that strong man was defeated. The power bestowed by the Evil God Omelos was this potent.
Blood had already soaked the dirt beneath. Blood trickled from I-an’s mouth, unable to expel the shards of his internal organs.
It was over.
Based on his long experience and beast-like instincts, Guildford made a sound judgment.
No matter how strong a human was, one could not survive after this level of blood loss and shattered entrails.
Even if he did not die immediately, he would surely breathe his last in a few minutes. Then there was no need for him to take the final breath himself.
Guildford hated killing. Especially taking the life of a young man he had once cared for was even more difficult.
Of course, it was a hypocritical thought. Even so, Guildford wanted to uphold at least the facade of humanity.
As he turned his back, Guildford had made up his mind to deal with the remaining party.
“Ughhhh… Uh…”
I-an’s groans caught the attention of the mage.
He made a sound?
With a look of question, Guildford turned his eyes backward. Humans on the brink of death sometimes groan, but they wouldn’t display such clear breath.
Guildford’s reflexive glance back halted his movements. His eyes widened.
An unidentified liquid was flowing down. It wasn’t blood. Only then did the glass shards scattered across the ground come into view.
Guildford’s brows furrowed.
“…Healing Potion?”
That couldn’t be. Potion bottles were carefully crafted not to break even during fights. There was no way they could shatter just from this extent.
Yet the twitching figure of the man clearly bore witness that the liquid was indeed a healing potion.
As Guildford was taken by surprise, the man’s hand suddenly slapped the ground.
Wobbling, the man began to rise. Only then could Guildford properly meet I-an’s eyes.
Golden pupils blazing with fervor.
It was a gaze that a despairing human could never possess. The wrath and determination flickering in those eyes sent shivers down Guildford’s spine.
Even as he rose, I-an fell several times.
His muscles must have felt like lead, and even with the emergency treatment provided by the healing potion, it was only enough to cling to life.
Further combat was impossible. That was a truth Guildford had honed over decades.
Yet why was that man struggling to rise?
Fear of the unknown seized Guildford. Reason told him to stab the man to death at once, yet his instincts held him back.
After several attempts, I-an finally stood.
Gasping for breath, his vision obscured by blood, he still smiled subtly.
“…Come.”
Upon hearing that, Guildford couldn’t suppress the surge of emotions welling up inside.
He didn’t even know what that was. But the intuition hammering in his mind told him.
He must kill him. If not now, it would be impossible.
His feet struck the ground. In a moment that could barely be split into moments, Guildford’s arm was already extended forward.
Including the claw, its length approached nearly 2 meters.
An insurmountable reach disparity was present, and even I-an’s response was delayed.
It was only natural to be stabbed to death in this scenario.
But in the next moment.
Time stopped. Only the body of the man swam through that stasis.
I-an turned in a spinning motion like a fish navigating a water current.
It was perilous. Had he turned even a fraction sooner, he would have been countered; had he turned even slightly later, he would have been stabbed.
It was as though he had touched a frictionless sphere. Guildford’s arm conveyed no sense of resistance whatsoever.
Guildford instinctively understood what the next chain of moves would be.
I-an’s sword sliced across, breaking the temporal delay.
The artistry of post-latency preemptive strike.
Vision phase, diffraction.
In a flash, Guildford’s eyes widened, but soon enough, he could only wear a satisfied smile.
It was perfect.
More than that.
