Chapter 217 - Ecstasy!
Scattering thorns, I strike, kick, and hurl enemies away. In the distance, thunder, fire, and wind magic flash prominently. The surging magic in the midst of the enemy’s chaos belongs to my comrades. They seem to be fighting with all their might, still full of energy.
Even from a slight distance, their presence is strong. I can’t see them, but their strength is reassuring.
I gradually release the power I had saved for a prolonged battle, following the rising heat. I need to increase my destructive power even more.
I switch from disposable shields to Explosive Reactive Armor. For those who dare to shoot arrows, throw objects, or cast spells from afar, I respond with thorns, impaling them and displaying them like trophies to lower enemy morale.
Yet, it’s impossible to break their spirit. Instead, it only seems to fuel their own excitement, mirroring mine. The battlefield is intense.
Some enemies, driven by excitement, pounce on me. Others laugh as I kill them. None of them show the slightest hint of fear in this bizarre space.
With bloodshot eyes, they rush at me as if competing to be the first. It’s a feverish madness, a rush to death.
Even I, radiating intense heat, feel swept up in their frenzy.
My throat is dry. My heart is pounding wildly. My body is flushed, especially around my waist, burning hot. Despite the constant sweat streaming down, it feels strangely pleasurable.
Swallowing my saliva, even that small sensation feels good. Something feels off. I have a light-headed feeling.
An enemy soldier, despite having his face crushed, manages to slash at my clothes. The next soldier, with his knee shattered, tries to grab my shirt. Another, with a hole in his abdomen, attempts to cling to me.
Pleasant tingles run through my chest, waist, and back. My breath is abnormally hot. My thirst is unbearable. I find the men who seek me so endearing.
So, I’ll give them a spectacular death.
"Hmmph."
While letting out a hot breath, I gently snap their necks. It’s strange. I feel a bit tipsy, but it’s not from drinking strong alcohol.
Maybe the battlefield’s bloodlust and the men’s passion make me feel this way.
It feels good. I’m floating, with an odd sensation. The enemies who rush at me en masse are also strange.
They discard their spears and shields, charging at me in a frenzy. When I kick them away in a spinning motion, it feels weird.
It’s strange. My own state isn’t exactly normal, but the enemies are even more off. They’ve discarded their weapons in the heat of bloodlust?
This isn’t a battle anymore; they’re just trying to overpower me. The tingles dull my thoughts, and my body moves on its own, seeking pleasure.
The satisfying crunch of breaking bones feels good. The warmth of blood as it breaks through flesh is pleasurable. The screams of dying enemies sound almost like moans.
Am I really like this?
"…It’s fun, I guess. Ahaha."
I continue to scatter death as if dancing. Instead of dodging my kicks, some try to cling to my legs. I crush the chest bones of one who latches onto me, and shatter the jaw of another who tries to lick my fist.
Occasionally, I encounter particularly strong opponents. They come at me with a wild, crude fervor, abandoning their usual combat style. I have to be careful with them; rough handling could get me caught, so I crush them thoroughly. They scream in delight, trembling violently. It’s a bit too much, even for me.
As I feel increasingly numb, I notice someone different.
In the midst of the bloodlust, he stands at a distance, not engaging. He stands out among the chaos.
"I won’t let you escape!"
It’s a punishment. How boring to not join the party when everyone else is having so much fun.
I won’t kill him easily. Realizing he’s been targeted, he tries to flee. That’s even more unacceptable.
I thrust thorns upward to stop him. The impact takes off his arm. No one escapes from me!
His arm flies off, and a bag he was carrying is knocked away. Powder spills out as it opens.
"Powder?"
I’m irresistibly drawn to the spreading powder. I want it. I need it!
"Aaaaaah!"
No one will take it from me. This is mine.
Using thorn magic, I clear the obstacles in my path. I shake off the desperate hands reaching for me and thrust a flat thorn from my feet.
Launching myself upward, I catch the powder-filled bag. Opening it, I see the pale pink powder inside, and then…
I suddenly sober up.
I’ve seen this before. Holding it, I understand all too well.
I’m a mage with an aptitude for drug magic.
I use a super-complex recovery spell to reset my body, dispelling all the discomfort. I cleanse myself with a purification spell.
My pleasure-addled brain regains clarity, and I turn the powder into ashes.
Of course. This is a drug. A type of ecstasy.
I didn’t notice it in the blood and red haze. It was an indirect attack, likely spread while I was wearing my cloak. I thought I was cautious against poison gas, but they were clever.
Wearing a cloak should have protected me from indirect attacks, but it didn’t. The effect was more mental than physical, and if it had been a magical attack, a cloak wouldn’t have helped.
Unknown magic is always a concern. It’s a good thing I realized this, even if it’s hindsight.
Still, spreading a drug in the air is a desperate strategy. If it were a more painful poison, it would have been easier to detect.
Impressive. This is a move fitting of the Empire, with its ties to the Legisamo Cartel. It’s a terrifying tactic, but it does seem to boost aggression. They must use it regularly, despite the risks.
Based on my experience, the effects wear off quickly if you stop inhaling. Probably no more than fifteen minutes.
The Crimson Knights’ area seems unaffected, and even if the powder had spread, it would be too diluted to have much effect.
Still, what a ridiculous move.
Looking at myself, my torn clothes are now dangerously revealing. It’s a bit embarrassing, but I have no choice but to wear them.
Standing on a tall thorn, I look down at the enemy soldiers clustering at my feet. Poor, pitiful creatures.
"Suuuu, haaa."
The air is better up here. Time to switch gears. The time for frenzy is over.
With the Crimson Knights in the fray, prolonging the battle is pointless. The only win condition is to force the enemy to retreat.
The quickest way is to take out their commander.
Killing more foot soldiers might work, but the Crimson Knights can’t afford to sustain excessive losses.
Using Active Armor to block magical attacks, I observe the enemy’s command post from a distance.
I can sense the likely candidates.
Good, I’ll leave them half-dead. They’ll decide to retreat.
I create a path of thorns at intervals, allowing me to move without engaging the weaker enemies. I’ve already killed or severely injured enough. Combined with my comrades’ efforts, it’s more than enough.
Drawing attention, I start moving, leaping through the air. The enemy can do nothing to stop me. They try to interfere, but I neutralize everything.
I block direct magic with Active Armor and ignore attacks on my thorns. They’re too durable. Arrows and thrown weapons miss, and even if they hit, I deflect them easily.
Breaking through the dense formations of soldiers and the ranks of knights, I continue moving.
At a point where I can recognize faces without enhanced vision, I launch a projectile as a greeting.
My aim is precise. A well-aimed strike will cripple but not kill them.
As soon as I release it, I feel a powerful magical reaction.
I brace myself, but it’s not an attack—it’s a defense.
"Finally, you show yourself."
It’s a barrier spell, protecting the command post. Thanks to its proximity, I can tell who cast it—a woman in a high-ranking mage’s robe. She’s in the way, and I’ll take her out.
I’ll break through that barrier. Doing so might force them to retreat. If not, I’ll finish them off.
Based on what I’ve seen, the barrier mage is skilled. The defense is on par with large-scale magical devices, efficient and fast. A formidable ability.
But I’ll drain her power. I’ll show her the futility of resisting.
I try to land a devastating punch, but the knights around me are a nuisance. I need to get close, but their magic from below is irritating.
"Out of the way."
I cast thorn magic indiscriminately. I don’t care about the chaos below. I can’t worry about every little thing.
Soaring through the air, I close in on the glowing barrier and punch it.
"Haahaaaaa!"
I channel my magic into my fist and strike.
It doesn’t budge. This is a powerful barrier.
I land on a thorn and punch again and again.
The sound resonates across the battlefield, like a bass drum.
The target is large, so hitting it is easy. I just need to keep hitting.
An extraordinary struggle of attack and defense.
A barrier that can withstand large-scale magic and Nova Ore explosions. I’ll break it.
With each punch, the barrier mage’s face contorts.
My magic consumption is minimal, but hers is significant.
How many more hits? How long can she hold on? Will she keep fighting until she’s drained?
In this state, my victory is certain.
Interfering magic is blocked by Active Armor. I shatter incoming spells with my fist while continuing to pound the barrier. For powerful attacks, I move to avoid them. She should feel her powerlessness.
As I’m about to land the final blow, a knight moves.
A magnetic presence. Every move is theatrical. His intense gaze commands attention.
His face is hidden by a full helmet, but I know he’s looking at me.
His ornate, blue and gray armor, adorned with gold and silver, is a far cry from a regular soldier’s.
The high-class knight, sensing the barrier mage’s strain, pulls her away and cancels the spell.
I could impale them both with thorns, but I’ll wait and see. A rationalist might find this lax, but I’m not one for such thinking.
Looking down, I see the knight point at me, a theatrical gesture that irks me. Is he trying to provoke me?
As I ponder, a loud cheer rises from the enemy ranks, spreading.
They seem excited by the high-ranking knight joining the fight.
The enemy soldiers part, creating space.
Hmm, does he want me to come down? With my comrades and the Crimson Knights still fighting, this area feels strange.
Who is he? The sudden change in the battlefield’s atmosphere confuses me.
Well, let’s see what happens. It looks like fun.