Ch.60Cutting Through the Darkness (4)

“…Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Better than I expected.”

But was he truly alright?

Though he had answered that he was fine, his trembling hands seemed to tell a different story. He wasn’t alright. Yet unable to say so, his gaze remained fixed blankly on empty space.

“…You’ll do well.”

It was true that doubts were arising.

Even though Evan had fought dark mages before and achieved more remarkable feats than any other knight, there was no guarantee he would return safely this time. Could a single individual accomplish this without the help of the Imperial family or other knight orders?

There was no time to waste.

If they informed the Imperial family, they would only be able to move against the dark mage in a few weeks at the earliest. That’s why they sent Evan. But his heart felt like it was burning with worry he couldn’t express.

If only he had been as strong, he wouldn’t have had to send him alone. If only he could have remained more composed in this situation, he might have found a better solution than sending him alone.

Amid his complicated thoughts, tangled like a skein of thread, what surfaced was the look in Evan’s eyes before he left. Unlike before, those unsteadily wavering eyes bothered him.

Was even he uncertain? But Evan had departed, and he couldn’t hold him back. He had only stared blankly at his retreating figure.

…He had once said he believed in him.

He had said that if he trusted anyone, it would only be Evan, and that he would trust him forever. That thought hadn’t changed. He still believed in him. Deep in his heart, he firmly believed that Evan would succeed in this mission and return safely.

Yet how could he not worry at all? His trembling fingers clutched at his collar. His bitten lips turned pale white, and he let out a faint sigh at the metallic taste that followed.

If Evan died, wouldn’t he regret this decision for the rest of his life?

His gaze, which had been fixed on empty space, soon turned toward his father who had collapsed. With a face so pale as if he might die at any moment, that face he remembered was completely gone, replaced by an emaciated appearance that clearly showed he was suffering from a curse.

He had been told that if they delayed for more than a week, he would die.

Since it was Azest Merwin, the Empire’s Grand Magician who had said so, it was likely not wrong. A strange feeling seemed to wrap around his entire body.

He thought he had resented him normally, but seeing him collapsed so helplessly like this, he just felt empty. That gaze that used to look at him was no longer there. There was only a pitiful old man who seemed about to die at any moment.

Was it the right choice for Evan to go to save him?

His mouth clamped shut at the foolish thought that surfaced mixed with his own desires.

For him, the deputy head of Yuris, who should prioritize the people of the domain in any situation, to have such thoughts.

Only then did he notice his surroundings. The pouring rain, the gloomy atmosphere of the duke’s residence.

Now, with everyone losing faith and wandering, only then did he see the confusion filling the duke’s residence with its ruler collapsed.

Rofena, Lord Chris, Lize. There was anxiety in the eyes of everyone he knew.

The head of the family had collapsed. And even the deputy head was wandering like this.

Concerned only about his knight, he was just blankly holding his position, neglecting what he should be doing.

…How could he call himself the deputy head of Yuris?

He still disliked that title. Those who expected perfection from him, that deputy head title was what he had temporarily erased from his thoughts because he disliked it.

But now, with the head of Yuris collapsed and everyone in confusion, someone needed to lead them. Someone was needed to clear the dark clouds beginning to loom over the duchy.

Could he do it? It would be different from before.

It meant that he would have to take on all duties, not just processing documents, and bear the responsibility as the head of the family.

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and quietly looked out the window.

He had to do it. If someone had to do it, he should bear that responsibility.

He couldn’t fight like Evan. Though he could hold a sword, he wasn’t strong, so the only thing he could do was to take his father’s place.

His vision was no longer blurry. His eyes, filled with determination, were sparkling more than ever.

Slowly and quietly.

Lord Chris’s gaze held a strange gleam as he watched him rise from his seat.

“Lord Chris.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Request that all accumulated documents be brought to the office. Resume all halted work. The goal is to return everything to its normal state, and…”

The seal that should be on the Duke’s finger was on the desk.

Looking at that seal, he carefully picked it up and put it on his finger before speaking.

“Until the Duke wakes up, all authority in the duchy rests with me.”

Understanding the meaning of this declaration of acting as head, Lord Chris immediately bowed his head and left the room.

He didn’t use honorifics. Since there was no one above him in this duke’s residence, an awkward tone unlike his usual one escaped his lips.

As Lord Chris moved, the maids quickly began to move to start their duties.

Gradually, the confused atmosphere disappeared.

He didn’t think everything would return immediately, but he was confident that it would soon regain its proper atmosphere.

By the time the rain soaking this land stopped, wouldn’t everything be back in its place?

His gaze turned toward the distance, where Evan might be.

Hoping that you will be safe. That this time you will return with an unharmed body, without any injuries.

“…Evan.”

Recalling Evan’s figure, always returning with wounds, he frowned.

Praying earnestly into the void that this time he would not be hurt, that was the greatest wish among all he was hoping for now.

#

Swoosh-

His eyes narrowed at the sensation of a spear piercing his stomach.

With rough breathing, he spat out the blood welling up in his throat.

The black blood pouring from his mouth indicated that his body was quite damaged.

After staggering and pulling out the spear, he briefly surveyed his surroundings, noting the somewhat diminished presence of enemies.

‘There are too many.’

Dozens of dark mages. Though he thought he had cut down quite a few, still about ten remained.

Dealing with the small fry who called themselves the Summoning School was easy.

The problem was those they called their masters. They were not low-level. Those dark mages, surpassing the one he had fought in the cave, were opponents he could not fight lightly.

Full power, fighting with his maximum strength, and yet he was in this state.

His arms were tattered, his stomach had been pierced multiple times and was steadily leaking blood.

He felt his breath becoming short. How many more minutes could he fight? Perhaps just that much.

His vision was blurry due to his injured state. Airin, recalling that name, his lips twisted.

He had promised not to get hurt, but once again, he ended up like this.

Was this the first time he had been so severely injured?

He finally felt the reality of death before him. His mana was steadily decreasing.

The flames enveloping his body were diminishing, and his heartbeat was gradually stopping.

What stung his nose was the thick scent of blood, the smell of death emanating from decaying corpses.

He widened his eyes against his blurry vision. He couldn’t die yet.

If he died here, it would just be a meaningless death.

“…Impressive. Over 50 people gathered, and now only 10 remain.”

The dark mage who had first revealed himself from the black fog spoke.

Berman, recalling what he had called himself, Evan gritted his teeth.

Could he reach him? The black fog still surrounded the area.

Though he had cut down many dark mages, the black fog, which seemed to be growing larger, looked dangerous no matter how he viewed it.

The attacks had momentarily ceased, allowing him to catch his breath, but he didn’t know how much time he had left.

He regulated his breathing. Trying to calm his heart that felt like it might burst at any moment, that was all he could do to conserve what little mana remained.

How many moves did he have left for the upcoming fight?

…None existed.

He was already using mana to his limit.

If he used any more mana, perhaps his heart would burst and tear. But in the current situation, it was right to consider even that option.

Blood vessels burst in his bulging eyes.

Wiping the blood flowing from his eyes with the back of his hand, he exhaled a long breath.

Berman, somehow that name sounded familiar.

Why did a name he had never heard before sound so familiar?

If he defeated him, perhaps he could learn the truth about that name.

But how? One arm was tattered, and due to his bleeding abdomen, even running properly was difficult.

He barely moved by utilizing mana, but if his mana decreased a bit more, even that would be difficult.

Five minutes,

Perhaps the time he could move normally. Could he reach him in that time?

His heart pounded. The instinct built up throughout his life was screaming at him to escape this place with his remaining strength.

But if he retreated here, those dark mages might head straight for Airin.

He gritted his teeth. He let his heartbeat accelerate.

His blood circulated rapidly, causing his muscles to expand.

Boom, the ground he was standing on shook, and its fragments began to float in the air.

He forcibly drew out the fragments of mana remaining in his heart.

If there was a limit, he had to break that limit.

He burned all the mana he could use, the embers.

If there was no mana, he would burn his body; if there was no body, he would burn his soul.

Whoosh, the white flames blazed more brilliantly than ever.

Flames that even engulfed the surrounding black fog, like wings adorning an angel’s body, enveloped the surrounding air and added strength to his body.

Now, perhaps he could do it. With this power now, perhaps he could reach him.

The pure white blade began to shine more brilliantly in the darkness.

His body felt quite light because he had squeezed out everything he had.

He added strength to his hand holding the sword to prevent it from slipping from his bloody hand.

The dark mages approached. When he felt their darkness coming very close, Evan kicked off the ground and moved forward.

What the dark mages standing beside Berman felt from Evan was a chillingly restrained anger.

It was a sharply honed killing intent, a hostility colder than any ice.

Just feeling this presence made their bodies tingle…

This power they were feeling was surely the latent strength possessed by the knight Evan Fried.

Berman smiled as he watched the scene.

The power he possessed would not reach him. But since arrogance was forbidden, he spread a magic circle.

He wouldn’t have drawn one for a simple spell, but what he was preparing now was a grand magic that required a magic circle.

Darkness extended like tentacles, enveloping the air.

Tearing the air apart, an immense killing intent began to take red form and engulf the surroundings.

“OMEN.”

The grand summoning magic he had prepared for years in the cave,

thousands of humans, tens of thousands of eyeballs, and the blood they spilled flowed within this magic circle.

He laughed maniacally.

Despite numerous mana leaving his body and his bones twisting, Berman laughed.

Because he was delighted by this power, because just imagining the being emerging from this magic circle annihilating the world was exciting!

It wasn’t only Berman whose power was being drained by the magic circle.

Despite all the dark mages except those facing Evan having their mana drained by the magic circle,

they were all laughing like madmen. As if bewitched by something, their eyes were endlessly sparkling.

Despite their hearts twisting, lungs being squeezed, and all accumulated mana draining out, losing vitality, they were happy.

All of this was for annihilation.

So Berman laughed. The emptiness visible in his widely opened mouth was enough to inspire fear.

Boom, the earth shook, the sky tore, and a dark gap began to open in the torn sky.

“…That is.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the torn gap. It was dangerous.

All his senses were warning him multiple times. Whatever would appear from that gap was the most dangerous thing he had ever encountered.

Swoosh, a spear blade grazing his face. He turned his face to avoid it.

Twisting his wrist to swing his sword while ducking his head again.

Strength that wasn’t properly applied was supplemented with mana.

Due to the constant barrage of dark magic, evasion and attack had to occur simultaneously.

Crack, the dust rising from stomping the ground blinded the dark mage’s eyes.

Whoosh, confirming that the extended spear blade had completely missed its trajectory and flown far away, Evan put strength into his waist.

Kicking the ground again with his right leg, he thrust the sword held in one hand forward.

Clang-

“Tch.”

Bone armor, it was annoying. Breaking it required quite a lot of strength.

To break it at once, perhaps one would need to reach the Master level.

A much larger amount of mana, only that incomparably pure mana could cut through that armor in one go.

But since he couldn’t do that now, he focused solely on the situation.

The fact that the dark mage had brought out bone armor meant he had brought out his last defensive measure.

If he broke that, the dark mage would die. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

His battered internal organs made his lower abdomen ache. How long could he hold out?

Another 3 minutes? As quickly as possible, he pulled his shoulder. Twisting his waist,

he swung with all the strength gathered in his arm. Bang! The flames on the sword extended, cutting through the air.

The darkness on the spear blade that touched it scattered, and Evan smiled faintly as he caught the spear flying toward him.

A sword in one hand, a spear in the other.

He moved as much as possible.

Every cell, all movements had to be unified.

The movements of his left hand and right hand had to become one.

As he stepped, his arm swung. As his vision turned toward the enemy, he thrust the spear.

One exchange, one breath. As a series of processes connected in an instant,

all movements began to exceed the speed he had thought was his limit.

In a world that appeared slow, only Evan was moving at his own pace.

The pouring darkness avoided him. No, Evan was simply responding to all of it.

His extremely activated senses were seeing everything. He could hear it. He could see the movement of the wind.

Where that darkness was heading. Feeling the killing intent brushing past his skin, he twisted his body.

The scent of death directed at him made Evan’s body move.

If there was talent, Evan’s talent was the essence of martial arts itself.

A thoroughly damaged body, a condition where darkness had penetrated and he might collapse at any moment.

But perhaps because of that, he could move more lightly. He encountered his limit. And he broke that limit and moved forward.

This was his first time handling a spear.

However, somehow he felt he could handle it quite well.

Swoosh- The extended spear tip touched the bone armor.

The dark mage’s eyes widened at the impact, incomparable to when swinging a sword.

And the next attack, attacks continued without pause.

Bang!

The air burst. That’s how fast it was.

The short-held spear was giving more destructive power than the sword.

Elasticity and recoil, Evan’s arm trembled at the elasticity transmitted when swinging the spear.

However, it had that much power. It was breaking. It was cracking.

Evan didn’t miss the very small crack, almost too small to confirm with the eyes.

He broke the black thorns extending from the ground. Whoosh, the flames were still burning fiercely.

Somehow…it was no longer difficult.

Like the runner’s high they say you reach after running for a while,

perhaps due to the adrenaline pumping from his brain, he no longer felt fatigue.

It burns. Like flames, the spear rotating in Evan’s hand was striking the bone armor, clearing away the black flames.

A little, just a little more.

Adding another line to that minute line was as easy as breathing.

Barely avoiding the spear blades that grazed his face and pierced his arm, he thrust his arm.

Bending his knee, widening his eyes, regulating his breath. He didn’t wipe the blood flowing from his mouth.

Blood continued to gush from his unstaunched stomach. However, he didn’t stop.

A little more, a little more. Whipping himself.

To break this limit, to stop whatever would come out of that gap, he moved forward.

And he reached it. Bang-! The dark mage was astonished at the sound, incomparable to before.

The bone armor shattered at once, and the extended spear tip pierced his heart.

One breath. Unregulated breath spread throughout his body through his lungs.

He didn’t rest. After pulling out the spear tip that had pierced the heart, he turned his gaze.

“How on earth…”

The remaining dark mage muttered. What on earth was that power?

He was just a knight who had barely reached adulthood. Expert,

no matter how much he had reached that end, how could he alone cut down dozens?

Whoosh, the flames still burning in the air caught his eye.

If Grand Master Berman’s plan succeeded, could they stop that knight?

Doubt arose. Hesitation was born. That meant a gap had formed in him.

Crack, Evan, who had already broken the bone armor, pierced the dark mage’s heart with his sword.

Ugh, black blood gushed from his mouth.

Why should he die like this? The consecutive attacks unleashed by the dark mages did not reach him.

Each attack thrust while navigating between that darkness was fatal.

As if he had reached his limit, Evan’s eyes still sparkled as he exhaled rough breaths.

His sword would soon be directed at their Grand Master.

“Damn it…”

But that was the end.

As the severed head was thrown into the air, Evan immediately began running toward Berman, who was drawing the magic circle.

One minute, perhaps that was all. He erased his thoughts.

Kicking the ground, running at the maximum speed he could muster.

There was no one to stop him. Though black fog enveloped them,

the pure white blade cut through the black fog, and soon what was inside began to be visible.

Something was wriggling in the gap, which had grown larger than before.

He had to stop it. His heart was pounding with vague fear.

One, two.

The emaciated dark mages were falling to Evan’s sword.

Three, four.

He approached. To reach Berman at the very end,

he continued to run, constantly cutting through the black fog that grabbed his ankles.

Five, six.

He controlled his surging breath.

Thinking there wasn’t much left, he gritted his teeth.

Seven,

After cutting down the last dark mage. Thus, he extended his sword toward Berman.

Ting-! Naturally, bone armor protruded to block the sword strike.

Whoosh, he burned. Putting everything he had into it.

A great fire solely for cutting that bone blazed from the sword.

Crack! He broke it. The sword, containing only that determination, easily penetrated the bone armor.

Berman’s purple eyes met Evan’s. Was it over?

Thinking that, as Evan thrust his sword, Berman showed a faint sneer.

“You’re too late. Already, Lord Maloric has descended.”

Maloric? What did he mean by being too late? He couldn’t understand.

The extended sword had already pierced his neck. Berman’s falling neck was still smiling.

Looking at the sword with no blood on it for a moment,

soon Evan’s gaze turned to the sky due to a sudden sense of discomfort.

A dot.

When Evan’s green eyes met a dot, he was engulfed in fear he had never felt before in his life.

Drip, cold sweat soaking his entire body made the sword slip. His breathing became rapid.

The flames died down. Mana no longer responded to Evan’s call.

It was hiding deep within his body, wanting to avoid encountering that being.

It…couldn’t be called a creature.

It wasn’t something alive and breathing. Could it be expressed as a single color?

Purple twilight wriggled in the wriggling darkness.

Cough, blood was pouring madly from his mouth.

Winning chance? That wasn’t visible. Berman’s words that it was already too late echoed in Evan’s ears.

Perhaps, it really was too late.

[…Mortal.]

The voice ringing in his ears struck his heart. Despite blood pouring ceaselessly from his mouth,

Evan’s gaze was still directed at that dot. The torn sky,

a body made solely of pure white bones was slowly crawling out of the opened gap.

[How pitiful.]

Maloric truly thought Evan was pitiful. He knew his strength.

However, he was infinitely insufficient to face himself. One who would soon perish by himself,

therefore he paid no more attention.

He only moved his body to fulfill the wish held by those who had called him back to this world again, to achieve annihilation.

Rumble-

The rain stops. But the sun did not rise.

Covered even by clouds in darkness that completely covered this sky,

soon the presence emitted by that being engulfed Evan’s body.

He couldn’t even attempt to withstand it. Evan’s body, flung like a scarecrow swept by the wind, rolled on the ground.

The sword shattered into pieces. His tattered arm was torn further.

Blood continuously gushed from the hole in his stomach.

Airin, recalling that name, Evan smiled bitterly.

He couldn’t reach it. His sword. It didn’t reach that being.

Boom!

When that being finally touched the ground, even the remnants of the forest began to disappear, engulfed in darkness.

A long body made of bones, with a single extended wing that spread wide in the sky.

Bone Dragon, as that being from legends descended upon the world, the atmosphere began to shake. The sunken earth burst.

Thump.

And the beating heart gradually stops.

Thump.

The breath flowing into Evan’s lungs gradually weakens.

Thump.

Regret, sadness, fear of never seeing again,

despair that he could not continue this breath any further, remorse, hatred, and. Vain hope.

What surfaced in his fading consciousness was, amusingly, Zanjir’s words.

His lineage, mana. In the end, it didn’t reach that dragon. But soon, recalling Count Kasim’s words, he held a bit of hope.

-The founder of the Fried family was a dragon.

Azest Merwin had said. That the blood he possessed might be dragon blood.

That he might not yet be fully exerting that power.

He thought he had faced his limit, but what he faced might not have been a limit.

Thump.

His heart, which he thought had stopped momentarily, began to beat again.

To collapse like this, he had too much left to protect.

What he had pledged in Seiren, the name he had pledged to protect even letting go of his past.

The brooch on his chest was already broken, but he remembered the sensation it left.

He remembered the warmth he felt from the hand he had held, the calm voice he had heard when they were together.

Whoosh,

The mana, which he thought would not remain at all, was burning its embers in that heart.

There was still hope. It wasn’t in vain. Drawing up that mana, he thought.

The essence within him. Could the characteristic of mana be just purification? The pressure of that bone dragon, that power.

The rising flames were different from before.

They were still brilliant, still pure white, but the power emanating from those flames was by no means small.

The ground shook. The flames, burning brilliantly alone in the darkness covering the sky and air, began to explode.

Thump, thump.

In the process of drawing up mana, Evan could feel what his essence was.

Dominance, dominating everything beneath his feet. Destruction, destroying everything he sees.

Harmony, yet by restraining it, by harmonizing with nature, he could handle that power.

The fiercely rising flames cut through the darkness and extended toward the sky.

Maloric, who was about to fly toward the sky leaving Evan behind, turned his head.

The immensely powerful force felt from behind, incomparable to before.

Like, wasn’t it a power similar to his own existence? But behind was only darkness.

No, there was a brilliant light showing its existence in that darkness.

Two lights,

In the golden eyes shining brilliantly in the darkness, Maloric saw a dragon.