Chapter 3: I Thought It Was Dark Fantasy, But It Was a Romance (2)

Aura techniques.

Four hundred years ago, humanity devised this power to fend off the relentless hordes of fiends following the emergence of the first great beast.

The premise was simple: accumulate aura within your body, and you’d gain superhuman strength.

But doesn’t that sound a bit too convenient for humans?

Just store energy and wield unearthly power without a price?

And to top it off, humanity supposedly invented this technique at the precise moment of near extinction—talk about perfect timing.

A stroke of luck too good to be true.

There’s a hidden truth behind aura techniques, one tied to the very essence of aura itself.

It’s a revelation that only comes to light in the game’s midtolate stages.

Aura, the energy, is identical to the malevolent force within fiends and great beasts.

The only difference is that it’s been degraded, refined into something humans can harness.

But harboring the same energy as fiends in your body doesn’t come without a cost.

Those who master aura techniques are fated to become fiends themselves.

Aura—or rather, this corrupted essence—gradually transforms the body into something monstrous from the moment it flows within.

The degradation merely slows the process, but the end is inevitable: death or transformation into a fiend.

The collapse of the northern front is rooted in this very truth.

So, here’s the question: what happens to those who push aura techniques to their limits and awaken the full power of aura?

The answer lies in the catastrophic collapse of the northern front in the game’s later stages.

As I oiled my sword, my gaze lingered on Irina Krauze.

The Spear of the Empire, Irina Krauze, would clash with the first great beast.

In a grueling battle, she’d become another great beast herself, singlehandedly annihilating the northern front.

That would be the first thread in the tapestry of humanity’s doom.

She has to die before that happens.

Even if killing her delays the northern front’s collapse, the outcome might not change.

Aura techniques are widespread across the continent, and most of the world’s martial strength lies with those who’ve mastered them.

If they all turn into fiends, the continent’s downfall is assured, whether the northern fiends are involved or not.

That’s why this game was so infuriating.

To stop the monster outbreak in the south and the rise of the Crimson Star in the central empire, I need to buy time.

As I mulled this over, oiling my blade, Krim approached me.

The task force’s roster had shifted constantly, but Krim and I were still standing.

“Well, well, moved on from your jilted fiancée to eyeing the commander now?” she teased.

“Cut the crap. What fiancée? I don’t even remember one,” I shot back.

Krim smirked. “You deny it, but your eyes are burning when you look at her.”

“That’s ambition, not whatever you’re thinking. I’m determined to surpass the commander someday.”

“Really? Are you suuure?” she drawled.

“Dead serious.”

Krim chuckled, her gaze drifting upward.

She counted the stars in the darkened night sky before speaking again.

“The Bephart hunt is tomorrow.”

Bephart was the name of a great beast that had plagued the front lines for decades.

Tilting her head, Krim looked at me.

“You’re the only original member left. Let’s survive this, yeah?”

“Obviously,” I replied.

“Pfft, too predictable? You’re just a nutcase plotting to become a war hero and get revenge on your ex.”

“Where the hell did you hear that nonsense?”

“Dunno. Just rumors floating around.”

“Care to clarify those rumors are baseless?”

The great beast, Bephart, wasn’t a creature or a monster.

It took the form of a knight clad in full armor.

That was the difference between fiends and great beasts.

While fiends mimicked animals, some took on human forms.

It was already confirmed that these creatures could wield human swordsmanship.

The paradox of a monster wielding human strength was proof enough of its power.

To take down a single great beast, Irina and her knights, along with countless cannon fodder, were needed.

As Bephart approached in the distance, Krim shouted, “You bastards, are you ready?!”

Our task force’s mission was to hold Bephart’s attention until the knights arrived.

It was practically a suicide squad, but I knew I couldn’t surpass Irina without overcoming this.

The only thing I could do was cross the line of death.

If I could keep crossing that line and survive this world—

“Ready!” we roared in unison.

Krim flashed a grin. “Let’s go.”

Led by Krim, the task force charged toward Bephart.

The great beast, which had slaughtered countless soldiers and knights over the years, was formidable.

Within three minutes of engagement, our unit was on the verge of annihilation.

Only Krim, me, and a junior recruit named Yulen survived.

Despite the hopeless odds, we threw our lives into holding Bephart back.

Yulen and I desperately parried Bephart’s bloodsoaked blade.

Krim seized fleeting openings, thrusting her sharp dagger with precision.

Just the three of us managed to hold our own against Bephart.

But it didn’t last.

The turning point came when Yulen exhausted all his aura.

Bephart sensed the weakening defense and lunged at him.

Yulen was killed instantly, and in the same momentum, Bephart’s blade pierced Krim’s abdomen.

“—!” Krim, still impaled, stabbed her dagger into the visor of Bephart’s armor.

As Bephart howled, I caught Krim’s collapsing body.

Black veins pulsed grotesquely around the wound in her abdomen.

The fiendish essence was eating away at her like poison.

“Are you okay?!” I shouted.

“I’m fine, I’m fine… Just do something about that bastard. So many rookies died because of it…” she gasped.

Bephart was already regenerating its wound.

If this kept up, we’d fail the mission and both die.

Gritting my teeth, I swung my sword at Bephart with everything I had.

“Damn it!”

My body groaned under the strain.

I scraped together every last bit of aura, circulating it through my entire body.

Yet, the gap in strength and speed was too vast—my arms began to break under the force of clashing blades.

Fingers snapped, ligaments in my wrists tore.

Still, I swung my sword in a trance, refusing to stop.

As my body burned out, my mind grew sharper, almost exalted.

In an instant, my eyes snapped open, and every sense in my body flipped.

The flow of aura halted, replaced by an unfamiliar resonance.

My heart, spine, lungs, joints, muscles, nerves—everything vibrated.

—Pulse.

Not circulating, but spreading.

The moment I recognized it, I saw red and blue waves in my vision.

As if entranced, I swung my sword along those waves.

The blade hummed, vibrating strangely, and let out a clear, resonant note.

Ping!

For the first time, Bephart’s heavy strike was deflected.

Clutching my sword with my broken thumb and middle finger, I followed the waves.

I held on for thirteen more minutes alone.

My left arm broke, my right wrist shattered, and my grip faltered.

My fractured sword scattered into pieces on the ground.

My torn leg muscles gave out, and I collapsed.

Bephart’s enraged strike descended toward my neck.

“You held on well, Ian.”

“Sorry for being late.”

Two knights blocked Bephart’s strike in front of me.

Behind them, a blinding light erupted.

A spear of ice, shimmering with frost, pierced Bephart through its armored chest.

The Spear of the Empire, Irina Krauze, unleashed frost in all directions.

The knights had arrived.

The Bephart hunt ended in success.

I was admitted to a field hospital at the northern outpost.

Both arms and legs wrapped in bandages, I lay in my cot when Irina came to visit.

“Thank you, Ian. Without you, we couldn’t have taken down Bephart.”

Her sincere praise didn’t bring me joy.

The entire task force, save for me, had died just to hold Bephart’s attention.

Even knowing this world was doomed, that they’d either become fiends or die as humans, I couldn’t easily accept the loss of those I’d grown attached to.

This world was no longer just a game—it was my reality.

“…You’re too kind,” I muttered.

“And I’m sorry. Because I was late, your comrades died,” she said.

“No, thanks to you, we avenged Krim and the others.”

Irina’s face was stained with deep guilt.

She could’ve brushed off their deaths, yet she carried their weight in her heart.

From that, I glimpsed her inherent kindness.

To think someone like her would become a great beast and part of the world’s end—it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Thank you for saying that,” she said softly.

Irina lingered, talking about this and that, before leaving my bedside.

Some knights I’d grown close to visited afterward.

Then, out of nowhere, the Nordelheim duke’s daughter appeared.

“Are you okay, my savior? I brought herbs to aid your recovery and restore your strength!” she chirped.

“It’s been a while. Have you been well?” I asked.

“Your speech has changed! I like this refined tone too!” she beamed.

Swaddled in bandages like a mummy, I received her attentive care.

I chewed on the herbs, waiting for my body to heal.

I had to get stronger.

Stronger than I was now.

I reflected on the pulse I’d awakened during the Bephart hunt.

I didn’t fully understand what it was, but if I could master it, I might change the ending where aura techniques doom this world.

“Now, open your mouth, my savior,” the duke’s daughter said.

I opened my mouth, and she spoonfed me some porridge.

Hmm, not bad.