Chapter 386 - Summer Insects Laughing at Ice
I ran through the darkness with a heart as light as if I were skipping. After all, I had to fight a master of Martial Soul Transformation while burdened by a curse. The disadvantage actually lifted my spirits.
I already understood from the previous exchange that he was an immature commander. But I could at least hope for something from his individual combat ability. A little bit, anyway.
...How far can you push me?
Ideally, I wanted him to exceed my expectations. I craved an existence that would force me to feel my limits and give me a chance to transcend them. I couldn't help but pray he would be the catalyst for me to break this curse. I believed that only in the midst of a life-or-death struggle could I find the hint for the next step.
Show me a fight that chills my spine!
I couldn't use most of my trump cards. Even with my custom talisman, my physical reinforcement was capped at about seventy percent of its usual output. There was also the physical malaise caused by the mana disruption. My sharpness, perception, and judgment were all far from perfect.
The negative effects of the curse would likely continue to plague me. Precisely because it wasn't a curse that could be easily dispelled, I had to overcome it. My enemies wouldn't show restraint just because I was under the weather. If I showed even a hint of weakness, they would pounce on it.
By overcoming these unfavorable conditions, I would move even further ahead. I wouldn't just check my status against a strong opponent; I'd turn them into my nourishment.
"You're going to serve as my stepping stone."
The thick black smoke hid my form, but I deliberately didn't hide the aggressive presence generated by my sounds and mana. Even if Pretty Boy was a dunce, he'd know that an approaching presence wasn't an ally.
It was a provocation. I was declaring my arrival. No matter how many disadvantages I had, I didn't feel like I could lose at all. Perhaps this is what they call the 'winner's mentality.'
I was about to plant the seeds of defeat in this man who thought he had reached a higher stage by activating Martial Soul Transformation. But this was my own way of being kind. If this were a true war, he'd be dead without a second chance.
In the near future, we'd be flying our flags in the same city, existing in a state of co-prosperity. It would be boring if my rivals were just a bunch of idiots.
As payment for being my nourishment, I'd give him a particularly good experience. The chance to taste defeat without dying is hard to come by in this business. He should be grateful.
"There! Don't underestimate me!"
Who's underestimating whom?
I was about to show him the shallow depths of his Martial Soul Transformation. This ultimate secret of magic, which created a torrential surge of mana to overturn common sense, was incredibly profound. Even among those who could use it, there was a massive gap between the masters and the novices.
It was impressive enough that he could use it at all. However, from my perspective, his magic was utterly childish. It became even more apparent once I got close and saw his movements.
He had almost no control over his mana. He was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of it, utilizing less than twenty percent of its potential for actual combat power. Perhaps not much time had passed since he mastered it, or maybe he had simply become complacent. There was also a chance it was a slightly different lineage of magic from the Martial Soul Transformation I had developed.
Regardless, this level wouldn't be recognized as top-tier.
"This is a special treat. I'll give you a lesson."
"I told you not to underestimate me!"
A slender blade thrust out as if to tear through the black smoke the moment I entered his range. I blocked it with a shield, though I already had a good idea of the result.
The thin shield I had suspended in the air was pierced by the sword, just as I expected. Even if it was thin, it was designed to deflect ordinary attacks, so piercing it so easily was no small feat. The power wasn't bad.
That strike from a masterwork weapon imbued with massive mana wasn't just for show; if it hit my specialized coat directly, it would likely go right through. As expected of an attack from a warrior who had manifested Martial Soul Transformation—it would be a lie if it weren't that powerful. The tension that straightened my spine felt wonderful.
I read and evaded the second strike by a hair's breadth. It was closer than I liked. My body really did feel heavy. However, with precise sensing and predictive abilities combined, I could read his next move almost entirely from the flow of his mana. I judged that he lacked the skill to turn that against me.
"Not bad, but you won't hit me with that."
Give me more. Give me everything you've got. Show me an attack I can't dodge!
"How about this, then!"
He decided to favor speed over power. The consecutive thrusts were accurate. Even in the darkness, he aimed for my stomach and chest, and his footwork was steady. Despite the darkness that would have made an ordinary person lose their sense of balance, he continued his assault without flinching, reading my presence.
In terms of sensing ability and combat technique, he could be evaluated as an excellent warrior by both objective standards and the Kikyou-kai's criteria. I used the flow of his mana to predict his attacks, either dodging or parrying with my shield, withstanding the entirety of his fierce onslaught.
I stepped in anticipation of his movements, tilted my upper body, and refined the angle of my shield with every strike. Yes, keep going, stepping stone. Your assault is sharpening my senses. I'm getting used to moving this heavy body.
His basic skills were solid, and he wouldn't be called strong if he couldn't do at least this much. For an executive of the Anastasia Union, this was the bare minimum.
"Raaaaagh! Just hit!"
Every one of his repeated, violent attacks had the power to finish me. I'll give him that much. However, he gave the strong impression of being swung around by his own surging mana. That was why he couldn't hit me, even when I wasn't at my best. He couldn't even graze me.
Martial Soul Transformation was certainly incredible. But having a lot of mana was useless if you couldn't utilize it effectively.
"Tch."
While my senses were being honed, I also realized the impact of the curse was significant. My stamina consumption was abnormally high. I shouldn't have been feeling fatigue from such a short exchange, yet I was already starting to tire. And that fatigue was beginning to amplify the curse's effects.
The mana disruption grew stronger, and I couldn't maintain the output of my physical reinforcement magic. My physical condition worsened steadily; in addition to the headache and nausea, a heavy lethargy was setting in. I wasn't quite out of breath yet, but I was getting close.
If this dragged on, the word 'defeat' would surely start to flicker in my mind. But this was exactly what I wanted. No, that's not right. It still wasn't enough. Show me more power. Push me further. Make me suffer more. I can't overcome the curse with just this.
"Is this all an executive of the Anastasia Union is worth?"
"Shut up!"
He began mixing magical attacks into his swordplay. I dodged one high-powered attack after another, goading him to show me more. Even Pretty Boy should have realized by now that if I were serious, this would have been over long ago. I hoped he wasn't under the delusion that I was desperately fighting just to stay alive.
"If this is your limit, I'm ending it now."
If you have a trump card, use it already. Do you want to be defeated with it still in your pocket? Make me feel even a little bit of panic. Are you really the great Anastasia Union?!
I closed the distance in the darkness and slapped his cheek with just my fingertips. It was a display of utter condescension. I could have finished him, but I didn't. I provoked his pride more than any words ever could.
My attitude spoke for me. You are far weaker than I am. Don't just give me your best; give me your life!
Pretty Boy was momentarily stunned and stopped his attack, only to resume with even greater ferocity. As he continued his assault, he muttered something under his breath, and the flow of his mana changed. Some kind of spell was coming. Good. Do it.
[Chalk Prison!]
I knew it before it even manifested. That's what it meant to utilize mana sensing at a high combat level. Predicting the phenomenon, I stood my ground without panic.
There it was. Dense mana to my left and right began closing in at high speed, gaining physical form. It was a calculated attack, making it difficult to escape forward, backward, or upward. I had to give him credit for not letting his anger make him sloppy.
If left alone, the thick, massive magical walls would crush me.
"You won't escape this!"
"Who said I was escaping?"
I simply suspended two support beams, one in front and one behind me, to catch the encroaching barriers.
"Fool! You've blocked your own escape path!"
Being sandwiched between two large walls with support beams in front and behind made movement extremely restricted. In that narrow space, Pretty Boy closed the distance and thrust his sword at me. It was a strike delivered with everything he had, capable of easily piercing a decent shield.
Normally, I could have punched him back or kicked him away with ease. But I couldn't do that now. My strength was failing slightly. Due to the increasing mana disruption and physical malaise, it felt as if the strength was draining from my fists and legs. I calmly judged that I couldn't suppress him with sheer power.
If I couldn't push back, I would simply dodge. I leaned back to evade the sword tip aimed at my chest and allowed myself to fall backward. I planted my hands on the ground as if performing a bridge and used a backflip to regain my stance while avoiding the support beams.
"I won't let you get away!"
I told you, I'm not running.
The wall magic wasn't finished. There was more to it. Now a wall towered behind me, completely blocking my left, right, and rear. Pretty Boy stood in front of me, ready for his next attack, and if I were to escape, the only way was up. The moment I thought that, a magical wall appeared above me as well, creating a sense of crushing pressure.
His timing with the walls was skillful. By deliberately staggering the timing to rob me of time to think, he intended to land a guaranteed finishing blow. Moreover, the magical barriers composed of dense mana weren't fragile enough to be easily broken.
A box was formed, with the only exit being the front where Pretty Boy stood. His killing move was set. How would he finish it? The final blow was the most important. It was the once-in-a-lifetime chance to defeat me.
I clenched my fists, which felt devoid of power, and told myself it wasn't break time yet. Sick during a fight? That excuse is so pathetic it makes me laugh. Crush the curse!
"Die!"
With a roar, Pretty Boy unleashed a desperate, all-or-nothing attack. It was a straightforward, full-power strike. The thrust delivered with a sharp and powerful step was so imbued with mana that the sword looked massive.
The walls restricting the enemy's movement and a sword thrust that felt like a cavalry lance seemed to be his trump card. However, no matter how much power an attack held, it was meaningless if it didn't hit. If he wanted to hit me, he needed far more ingenuity.
"I told you I was giving you a lesson, didn't I? Remember this well."
No matter the power, the timing of his attack was far too obvious. It was as if he were asking me to block it. Even with my poor condition, I could handle this with ease. Now!
At the perfect moment, a spike rising from the ground deflected the straight trajectory of the thrust diagonally. I didn't need much durability or a complex spell just to deflect it rather than block it. It was pure technique. A superlative feat made possible by combat skills interwoven with magic. Though hidden by the smoke, I was certain Pretty Boy's face was contorted in shock.
I had already seen his thrusts many times. Whether it was his full strength or imbued with massive mana, it made no difference.
"You have no tricks left. That's why this is happening."
Once I deflected the blade's trajectory, I took a step forward and firmly gripped his wrist. By twisting it slightly to lock the joint, even his Martial Soul Transformation's brute strength couldn't be exerted instantly. Without giving him a chance to pull away, I snapped it. This was a technique where timing was more important than power. Even in my current state, I could do it.
Pretty Boy let out a faint groan and tried to pull back, but I closed the distance and pushed him, breaking his balance. When he stumbled backward, I grabbed his collar, performed a shoulder throw, and slammed him into the ground. It was a strike that emphasized technique over power, but with perfect timing, it delivered sufficient force. Even with equipment and a body reinforced by massive mana, a shock capable of momentarily knocking him unconscious could be expected.
Indeed, as the strength left Pretty Boy's body, I crushed his ankle to drastically reduce his combat capability and kicked him in the head, successfully knocking him out completely.
"What a letdown."
His mana and technique were decent, but Pretty Boy was undoubtedly inexperienced when it came to fighting the truly strong. Especially that last bit—what was that? Flinching and trying to run just because his wrist was broken? If it were one of my members, they would have gone for a headbutt instead of running. He wasted his Martial Soul Transformation.
There's no reason to fear someone who runs. Someone like that deserves to lose. I didn't even need to look back to know my victory was absolute, even without a surprise attack.
I suppose it's not a delusion to think that mastering Martial Soul Transformation elevates one to a higher level. It is truly special. But mastering it alone makes one no more than a fledgling. He was no match for me, who had continued training to reach the abyss. I proved that by combining ordinary physical reinforcement and magic potions, one could defeat an enemy in the Martial Soul Transformation state. I probably could have won even without the 'cheat' magic potion. It was a complete victory.
Whew, I'm tired though. The slight shortness of breath made me realize my own poor condition. Realizing I'd have to live with the curse for a while, I felt the need to evolve my fighting style. If my opponent hadn't been an inexperienced youth, things might have been dangerous. I'll treat this as a good opportunity. If I can evolve, I can go even higher.
"...They noticed."
The Anastasia Union members realized that Pretty Boy's standout mana had dissipated. The fact that they didn't carelessly rush over was proof of their skill. They were strong, but we were stronger. And thanks to the magic item creating black smoke, we held complete initiative.
Naturally, all my members were still standing, and it seemed the enemy's numbers had already been cut by more than half from the initial fifty. Unlike Bado Lot, they didn't use underhanded tricks, which made them easier to deal with, but being too brain-dead was also an issue. We probably could have won normally without using magic items, though their lack of preparation played a large part.
Still... is this all the great Anastasia Union is worth? Fifty men gathered, and they're all just a bunch of fools? Show me more of your backbone!