Death Is Far Closer Than Life (2)
“[It really was horrifying. Even to this day, I’ve never felt agony like that. Yeah, looking back, I think I was always terrified of Master.]”
“[Indeed. Honestly, the consensus is that their personality is a bit of an issue—]”
“[Wait.]”
“[Pardon?]”
“[You need to die too.]”
A crimson world bled through my blurred vision. Blood must have poured from every orifice in my body, because something resembling red ice crunched brittle beneath my fingers. Worse, my clothes felt utterly repulsive. Stripping off the sodden armor, I scrubbed myself clean with handfuls of fresh snow, but as I did, another wave of agony surged through my guts. Just how badly was I hurt?
One bottle wouldn't be enough. I bought three potions from the shop and poured them all down my throat. Only then did my ruptured organs slowly begin to mend. That silently expanding force field had affected every living thing in its wake; when I finally regained my senses, I saw the fox collapsed in the snow, vomiting blood. It was in that state despite having an entire bottle poured down its maw earlier. I bought more potions and emptied them over the creature without holding back.
Whew. That was far too dangerous. I had come inches from crossing the River Styx in a way I'd never anticipated. If we were talking sheer lethality, it was dozens of times more hazardous than the Ice Queen. It was even more insidious because it left inanimate objects untouched, making it look as though nothing had happened at all. If an enemy had wielded a skill like that, I would have been wiped out before I could even register what hit me. Still, agonizing as it had been, I had no intention of burying this discovery. I wanted to give it a proper try. Could I actually learn to control this power?
First, though, I needed to consult Belba. If anyone had ever attempted an experiment like this before me, their precedent would be invaluable.
“[There is absolutely no one,]” Belba replied flatly. “[In the first place, Dimensional Power isn't something just anyone can wield.]”
Is that so? Disappointing, though it made sense. The only reason I could burn through Dimensional Power with such reckless abandon was that I had awakened in a primordial era. It felt as though I was draining and burning through all the world's crude oil all by myself. Then again, this was a world destined for apocalypse; without an advantage of this caliber, survival would be off the table.
“[That’s not what I meant...]”
“Whatever. More importantly, Belba, what's my physical condition right now?”
I had a rough idea, but to know for sure, I needed Belba's assessment. For a fleeting second, a sensation like warm sunlight washed over me as she completed her scan.
“[As vexing as it is to admit... you're not in bad shape. Your recovery rate is eerily fast. Still! Please, never push yourself like that again. I am completely serious.]”
After reassuring her that I understood, I eased into a slow stretch. Aside from an unsettling tightness that made it feel as though my lung capacity had shrunk slightly, there didn't seem to be any lasting issues. Could this technique actually be viable? As a last resort for mutual destruction, it wouldn't be half bad. It would have been better if I could control it properly, of course. What a shame.
Wondering if the shockwave had reached that far, I crept back toward the place where I had fought the Ice Queen. But the Queen was nowhere to be found. Not even a trace of frost debris remained. The ground was bizarrely pristine—almost as if she had deliberately erased every trace of her existence.
An uneasy feeling crept over me. A bad premonition. And whenever that feeling struck, the hairs on the back of my neck always stood on end. Trusting my instincts, I threw myself forward.
KBOOOOM!
“[Behind you! It’s the Ice Queen!]”
I had half-wondered, but she really had set an ambush? A massive boulder of ice grazed past my head by a hair's breadth. This time, its tip was honed to a sharp point—designed specifically to punch through even if I raised a shield.
I couldn't fathom how such a change had occurred. The question that had festered ever since I first encountered the golems reared its head once more: What are they learning from?
Now, it was turning into genuine suspicion. The pace of their civilizational development and intellectual growth was far beyond any reasonable projection. They were somehow learning things they couldn't possibly have gleaned from me alone. Golems fashioning bows out of ice. The Ice Queen attempting a clandestine ambush. Were they secretly solving after-school workbooks in their spare time? There was a limit to creativity, but this was getting downright absurd.
Even human beings couldn't demonstrate such rapid evolution in a mere week. If anything, mankind had spent more than ninety percent of its history swinging rocks around. The Stone Age had been agonizingly long, and only after countless iterations of trial and error did humans finally grasp bronze. Compared to that, the progression of this world was abnormally swift—almost as though someone were actively guiding them forward.
Enough theorizing for now. Focus. I needed to find an escape route.
Shhk—!
Without warning, an ice spike thrust up from beneath my feet, thick as a utility pole. It was the sort of technique you only ever saw in comic books. While it erupted with blinding speed, a faint tremor had rattled the ground a split second prior, making it relatively simple to evade. Still, it fascinated me. Perhaps because my own skill level was still low, watching magic like that always felt novel. More importantly, observing the turbulent flow of mana served as an excellent study session.
“Was it... like this?”
Launching an ice cannonball consumed far too much mana, but something of that scale seemed imitable. Designating the ground around the monster with my mana, I channeled a sequence of concepts into the frost: Gather. Solidify. Erupt.
Shards of ice gradually coalesced around my mana, and the moment they fused into a single mass, I triggered the technique.
With a sharp fwoosh, a slender spike no larger than an icicle shot forth, piercing straight through the creature's shin.
...Wait, what?
“Aaaaargh!”
Why did that actually work?
“[What on earth was that just now?!]” Belba shouted. “[Did you just copy that after seeing it once?!]”
That wasn't important. It hadn't been a particularly difficult spell anyway. What truly caught my attention was that such a puny attack had pierced the monster's armor. It caught me completely off guard. My original plan had been to distract her with that strike, buy a moment by hurling a spear, and make a run for it... but now I needed to revise my strategy.
Watching her writhe and screech in agony sparked a glimmer of hope. There was always the chance she was faking it, but if a monster could pull off method acting of that caliber, I might as well just lay down and die; I had no confidence I could survive in a world filled with Oscar-worthy beasts.
“Hu-maaaan...”
Oh, come on. Now she was talking? She even knew I was human?
Belba, what the hell is going on? Even with the widest margin of error, this shouldn't be happening.
“[...I find it bizarre as well,]” Belba muttered. “[Could the embedded Dimension Stone have triggered some kind of mutation after all?]”
Her face contorted in rage, the Ice Queen glared down at me. I easily sidestepped the ice cannonball fired toward my torso; after watching it a few times, reading the timing was simple enough. She shot with excessive honesty, and above all, the power and velocity of her attacks were noticeably degraded compared to before.
There was only one plausible explanation: she had been caught in the blast radius of that force field I detonated.
A grin crept onto my face as I gripped my spear. The monster was riddled with debuffs. Unlike last time, I could clearly see her attacks coming, and my own strikes could inflict meaningful damage. An enemy that had once seemed impossible had suddenly plummeted to manageable territory.
Right on cue, the fox spat out a sphere of blazing flame. I had noticed it looked slightly larger while recovering from the potions, and now it was casually flinging fireballs. Across this frozen, glacial expanse, the dancing fire was profoundly alien. To a creature like her, it was likely the very first flame she had ever witnessed in her life.
As expected, the panicked Queen thrust her hand toward the fireball, deep azure chill radiating from her entire frame. And then—
Craaaack!
Space itself warped for a heartbeat, and the fireball froze solid right where it hung in mid-air. I knew it. That was her ultimate technique. And after unleashing an attack of that magnitude, an opening was guaranteed to follow.
Kicking off the ground, I stoked the mana throughout my entire body, braced myself for the impact, and slammed into her with my full weight. A genuine, full-power body slam.
“Ah, aaaaaah...!”
She flew into the air. Just as I thought, her baseline physical capabilities were drastically diminished. As she crashed down, a miniature blizzard swirled around her arm—the telltale effect of an ice blade taking shape.
Trying to pull a cheap trick on me?
Gripping the steel spear with both hands, I swung it horizontally with everything I had, like a baseball batter driving for a home run. Struggling to rise from an awkward crouch, she took the brunt of the blow at an off-angle, and the clumsily raised ice blade shattered to dust in a single clean strike.
This was the end. Judging by her withered aura, she had nothing left in her arsenal. Even if she did, it was time to close the curtain. When facing an opponent of a higher tier, you couldn't afford to permit a single variable.
Thud.
I drove the spear straight into the chest of the monster as she desperately tried to wring out the last dregs of her mana. The shaft sank through with startling ease, and through the metal, I felt the unmistakable sensation of something shattering inside her.
“...Dea... th.”
As she fell to her knees, her eyes met mine at roughly the same level. In that stillness, we stared into each other's pupils. Melted ice trickled down the spear shaft, soaking my hands.
Death. Death, she said.
“Do you understand what dying means?” I asked.
“Frien... ds... Their light went out, their voices silenced... I felt... sorrow...”
I looked down at my hands. Though drenched in transparent water, it felt no different from crimson blood. It had been the same when I slaughtered the golems. Never once had I taken a life with a light heart.
“Great... Mother...”
For a brief moment, the swirling snow ceased.
“Because... we saw you... we yearned for life.”
Leaving behind those final words, her form collapsed into a shallow pool of water, which instantly froze solid. Was this their version of death?
I stared at the patch of ice for a quiet moment, then turned away. I didn't feel particularly mournful or sad. Nor did I feel any sense of relief. I was simply afraid—afraid of the reality that the one lying there, crumbling into nothingness, could easily have been me.
All living things eventually die. No matter how desperately you beg for the dead to be spared, they never show any sign of returning. Just as it had been for my mother, and for my father.
They never come back.
It sounds irrational, but death has always felt far closer than life.
Whenever the feeling washes over me that I am merely not dead, rather than truly alive, that same old thought quietly surfaces once more.