Ch.155Fire

At first, I thought it was my imagination.

Then, I wondered if sparks from clashing swords had touched my wrist.

But no.

As the battle continued, it became increasingly clear.

Growing darker, growing hotter.

A burning heat was leaking from my right wrist.

A power I couldn’t possibly control. Along with mana.

The memory of what happened in the Carmine Dungeon flashed through my mind.

[ ᚲ ]

I don’t know how to pronounce it, but anyway, that thing.

The ancient seal engraved on my right wrist.

The heat was rising from that very seal.

So this is, like what that Deathknight showed me before… some kind of precursor to an unknown magic activating?

It seemed like a reasonable guess, even to me.

Otherwise, I couldn’t explain the mana swirling around my wrist.

…So, how do I use this seal?

Like a blind man who had lost his cane, I stared at my right wrist, which was burning as if on fire.

—-

Perhaps seeing my hesitation as an opening, the black iron knights charged again.

Pushing aside the unsolved puzzle in a corner of my mind, I continued the battle.

Come to think of it, since realizing the power of Karma, this was my first real fight against a proper Master.

I’d faced Master-level opponents before, but they were all just monstrous creatures.

These ones were different.

I parried the swinging longsword, and swept away the thrusting blade with Frosting.

I deflected a slash aimed at my legs with my armor.

It was quite a valuable experience.

Unlike monsters wildly swinging their weapons, each of their attacks contained the principles of perfected swordsmanship.

Defense and offense, counterattack and evasion.

I observed and experienced everything, committing it all to memory.

I pieced together the memorized movements in my head, analyzing their fundamental principles.

My brain, heated with battle excitement, completed the task in an instant.

And then, I incorporated the understood movements into my own attacks.

Durandal thrust forward, tracing a strange trajectory as it tore through the black iron armor.

With each exchange, my sword was becoming sharper and more threatening.

I should thank Claire.

Who knew she’d prepare such excellent teaching materials.

– Clang! Clang! Clang-clang-clang!

Each time sword met sword, flashing light illuminated us both.

Like dozens of lightning bolts striking in succession, beams of light and thunderous sounds tore through the surroundings.

Slowly but surely.

The scales of battle began to tip.

The burning reed field spread a sunset-colored heat.

Durandal’s blade became soaked in blood.

Crushed pieces of black iron scattered across the ground.

Black iron armor torn to shreds. Black longswords with chipped edges and cracks.

Bodies slashed and torn until they were in tatters.

Anyone could see they were on the verge of defeat.

“Reaching your limit, I see?”

No answer came, but… they must understand my mockery.

Considering how quickly they jumped out when Claire called them.

I swung my sword again.

Their movements were noticeably slower than before.

My swordsmanship, which had grown by devouring all their techniques, began to cut down the now useless teachers.

An arm, caught by a blue arc, flew into the air.

It was the moment I was certain of victory.

And then,

the fuse was finally lit.

—-

– Whoosh.

A quietly rising harbinger.

The mana condensed to its limit in the seal on my wrist finally erupted like a volcano, unable to withstand the pressure.

Mana flowing through my fingertips, seeping into the sword.

Fierce flames surged up, wrapping around the blade and blazing.

A sword of fire.

It was a magnificent sight that drew admiration just from looking at it.

I still didn’t know the name of the seal, but at least I could understand that the magic it manifested was the power of fire.

– Woong!

My admiration was short-lived as Durandal shook violently.

The rising flames suddenly subsided and scattered in an instant.

…Right. Dragonic silver repels mana.

Seems it rejects even its owner’s magic.

Really, what’s the point of this?

With a slightly deflated feeling, I looked down at the dragonic silver longsword that was vibrating softly.

All my powers are like this. They reject each other.

Thanks to that, each risk maintains a precarious balance.

The black iron knights, who had been wary of the suddenly rising flames, now seemed confused by the quickly extinguished fire as they looked at me.

They didn’t say a word and their expressions weren’t visible… but their reaction was clearly one of bewilderment.

“…Don’t look at me like that. I’m just as dumbfounded right now.”

My cheeks burned with unnecessary embarrassment.

—-

However, the anomaly didn’t end there.

The mana that had scattered with the flames gathered again.

Not toward my right hand that rejected mana… but toward my left arm that emitted cold.

Intense heat seeped into my left arm, which was stiffening with Frosting’s cold.

The curse’s cold that had penetrated to the bone dispersed helplessly.

No flames surged up.

Just with a wisp of smoke, the silver gauntlet turned pitch black.

Uh…? Is this okay?

Wondering if it might break, I considered taking off Frosting, but…

Before I could hesitate, the scorched Frosting revealed a black luster.

Black Frosting, huh.

I hadn’t seen anything like this even in the original work.

It felt quite unfamiliar.

Enough that I unconsciously wiggled the fingers of my left hand.

The blackened Frosting still emitted the curse’s cold, but it no longer reached me.

The heat of the mana circling my left arm was offsetting Frosting’s cold.

I couldn’t understand the cause of this phenomenon, but the result was good.

At least for now, it was as if Frosting’s time limit had disappeared.

—-

By this point, I had a rough idea.

This seal probably draws in mana on its own and converts it into fire and heat… something like that.

I’m still not sure about the exact activation conditions or control methods.

I should properly investigate it.

If I can control this power, I could use Frosting without any restrictions in the future.

Oh, I wonder if this would work too?

A sudden idea occurred to me.

I briefly shifted Durandal to my left hand and drew a dagger with my empty right hand.

Then, I focused my consciousness on the seal on my wrist again.

– Whoosh.

My prediction was correct.

The dagger in my right hand absorbed mana and began to blaze fiercely.

The steel wrapped in flames turned bright red.

This could be… quite useful.

The black iron knights hesitated for a moment at the sight of the dagger that had turned into a torch.

Celebrating the fact that I was now using magic, I threw the burning dagger at the enemy.

The dagger shot like a red beam.

The targeted black iron knight swung his longsword sideways.

With a clang, the flaming dagger was deflected helplessly.

It didn’t matter. I hadn’t thrown it expecting a hit anyway.

Creating a momentary opening was enough.

Before he could bring his sword back, I had already approached right in front of his eyes.

“You should have dodged that one.”

I deflected his reflexive, clumsy attack with Durandal in my left hand.

A sword swung with an unstable stance was no longer even a threat.

I reached out with my right hand and grabbed his helmet.

I didn’t intend to crush it.

I could have dented it with some force… but a better method came to mind.

Fire.

It was the same as with the dagger.

As I focused on the seal, the knight’s head in my right hand began to burn.

He started convulsing.

He had ignored even serious wounds, but apparently even he couldn’t endure the pain of his head burning.

I let go of his head and stepped back.

Even though I had already released my hand, the flames that had started continued to grow fiercer, absorbing the surrounding mana.

It burns better than expected. More like firewood than a person.

The flames spread throughout his entire body.

Black smoke leaked from the eye holes of the melting helmet.

The knight, now a giant torch, danced passionately, illuminating the night sky.

Sweat dripped from my chin due to the heat reaching me.

After that last burst of flame, the seal on my right wrist had completely quieted down.

It seems there’s a limit to the number of uses or output… but I’ll probably have another chance to use it later.

Anyway, this one was already as good as dead, and taking down the remaining two with just swordsmanship was enough.

So now… after killing those guys and cutting off Claire’s head, it’ll be over.

Or wait, was I supposed to capture her alive?

Unlike the original work, Ophelia wanted Claire captured alive.

I don’t know the reason, though.

I heard them cursing each other, but after that I was too focused on the battle to properly hear what they were saying.

Well, Ophelia can probably handle the capture on her own without my help.

Glancing at Claire, she was just trembling and unable to use magic, suggesting the poisoned stew plan had worked perfectly.

Sure enough, Claire collapsed helplessly after being hit by Ophelia’s shockwave.

She didn’t kill her, just knocked her out, I guess.

—-

I turned my attention back to the burning knight.

If he started swinging his fists in that state, the fire might spread to me too.

What I saw was incredibly bizarre.

The burning knight’s head suddenly popped off.

Pop, like a champagne cork after vigorous shaking.

With the minor difference that what followed was solid rather than liquid.

“Keeeeeeee!”

A piercing scream. He finally opened his mouth.

Or rather, opened his throat.

A giant worm resembling a maggot shot out from the severed neck.

Its reddish-brown skin was wrinkled all over, with caterpillar-like hairs sprouting between the wrinkles.

A massive maggot, thicker than my forearm and about 60cm long.

The knight’s head dangled at the end of its muzzle, which was lined with hundreds of teeth.

The inside of the head, visible at a glance, was completely empty.

It was obvious what had happened. The worm had eaten everything.

It had probably settled near the spine, devoured everything above the neck, and was rolling around inside the skull.

The moment the maggot escaped from the body, the knight collapsed lifelessly and continued to burn.

The ejected worm rolled on the dirt.

Abandoning its host and fleeing was the right decision, but… it was too late.

The flames had already spread to it.

“Keeeek! Keeeeeeeek!”

The worm, being roasted to a golden brown, writhed and screamed.

Yellowish fluid gushed from between its jaws.

Ah, seriously. Disgustingly creepy.

My brow furrowed involuntarily.

The sour stench of decay and the smell of roasting worm invaded my nostrils.

In this world, I could tolerate most things…

But truly, the nauseating aspect of every enemy I encountered was really hard to bear.

Before long, the well-roasted maggot stopped moving.

Dark Mana from the grilled worm stained the ground.

It made me want to question Durandal. What made it judge this thing as human?

Even if a worm eats the head and controls it, it’s still considered a person as long as it’s breathing?

The blue longsword vibrated weakly, illuminating its golden inscription.

The sight seemed like it was protesting its innocence, making me chuckle.

The golden light grew increasingly clear, as if apologizing to me.

Like before, blessed power flowed through the hilt.

The other two knights retreated hesitantly.

There must be maggots in their heads too. I just need to kill those and it’s over.

I charged toward them.

I parried the desperately extended sword and thrust with my fingertips.

The blackened Frosting shattered the helmet and penetrated the skull.

The sensation of a soft mass bursting.

My left hand, when withdrawn, was soaked with black blood and yellow fluid.

Disgusting.

I roughly swung my left hand to shake off the debris stuck to Frosting.

The last remaining knight charged with all his might.

A fierce sound cutting through the air. A subtly twisted trajectory.

The slash aimed at my waist suddenly rose up, targeting my neck.

I was surprised when I first saw it… but I’d already experienced this swordsmanship dozens of times during the fight.

Frosting caught the longsword.

The final strike, blocked so easily.

Before the maggot knight could react, Durandal, held in reverse grip, was buried in his skull.

That was the end.