When the Eyes Turn Red (4)
He’d known from the beginning that his mana was different from everyone else’s.
The crown prince, the heroine from the original story, and even Irene in the future when her mana finally awakened—all of them, whatever words the narration used, were ultimately described as bearing blue mana.
His own was an unmistakably pure white.
People said mana came in many colors, but in the end it was always some shade of blue. So what, exactly, did this darkness the black mages wielded have to do with his mana?
Still, none of that mattered.
If he thought about mana at this moment, the only thing that mattered was that his mana was effective against that darkness.
The sword in Evan’s hand blazed with dazzling light.
Flames wrapped around his body, and as they burned the darkness seared into the troll’s flesh away, the troll let out a roar.
“Krooo—”
For a body that massive, the troll moved with shocking speed. If he let his guard down for even an instant, that fist or axe would tear him apart.
He raised his sword and carved straight into the troll’s shoulder.
The pure white mana clearly slowed regeneration. Then this kind of attack should work.
The blade bit deeper and snapped the troll’s shoulder blade; when the creature saw its arm hang uselessly, it lashed out with its other hand.
With a sickening crack, the axe in that hand hacked savagely through a tree.
Seeing a single swing split wood clean in two, Evan narrowed his eyes.
The troll was far stronger than he’d expected.
He revised his assessment of the creature’s power. He could not afford to be hit even once.
Impossible or not, if he couldn’t do the impossible, he had no chance.
He drew in a breath. As his lungs filled and his chest swelled, his figure vanished from the troll’s sight in an instant.
Maybe a minute. I have to cut as much of it apart as I can.
Fresh flesh was already growing back over the shoulder he’d just cut. At that speed, it would all regenerate before long, so now—when the arm was still awkward to use—was his chance.
Evan spun quickly and took position behind the troll.
Pain in the body was an irritating thing. Even a troll couldn’t move as if nothing had happened while it was still wounded.
Slash! He cut into the troll’s ankle, but the wound was shallow, and he pulled back at once.
The skin was thicker than he’d expected. Even with a sword saturated in mana, cutting all the way through to the bone was hard unless he put every ounce of strength into it.
As if enraged, the troll fully restored its shoulder, raised both hands, and slammed them into the ground.
The earth shook. To think a body could tremble the ground with sheer brute force alone.
Evan gave a bitter laugh and tightened his grip on the sword. It wasn’t easy to wait for an opening.
He exhaled again, and this time instead of wrapping flames around his whole body, he cloaked only his legs in fire and stepped forward.
He was fast. So fast that an ordinary knight might not even be able to catch him with the naked eye.
Blue swordlight flashed several times in midair, and blood burst from the troll’s body at the same time.
But it was still too shallow. Something was missing—something that could truly cut this troll down. What, exactly?
The moment Evan gritted his teeth, the troll’s eyes flashed.
They burned with rage. A violet soul-light began to ripple through the darkness like a fire about to explode.
Thud— The troll stamped its foot, and Evan’s body suddenly lifted into the air.
His face twisted in shock.
To be thrown off balance by a single vibration—what in the world was this absurd strength?
Frowning, he watched the blade of the troll’s axe come at him.
The huge weapon was slick with blood and clinging chunks of flesh.
Focus. On that axe aimed at him, and on the troll’s hand gripping it.
His fingers twitched. The troll’s forearm, locked tight around the axe handle, bulged as though it might burst at any second.
Seeing that, Evan lifted his sword.
He sharpened his senses—sight, hearing, smell, touch.
Without ever taking his eyes off the axe, he listened to the blade slicing through the air and felt the thickening stench of blood on its edge.
The hand around his sword went slippery. Blood and sweat, perhaps.
He tightened his grip with both hands and thrust his blade toward the axe coming straight for him.
If he tried to meet it head-on, he’d be forced back. So he twisted his waist and turned with the motion.
He spun through his hips, planted his feet in rapid succession, and struck the side of the axe, redirecting the force driving it forward.
Crack— The axe shoved him back, and his own body was flung against a tree.
A fishy taste filled his mouth. He spat, and red splattered into view.
He’d thought he’d blocked it fairly well, but the troll’s strength had apparently been far greater than he’d imagined.
His lower back ached. The impact against the tree made an involuntary curse rise to his lips, and he gave a bitter smile before looking back at the troll.
It looked as though the creature had fallen to the ground under its own weight.
The troll lay sprawled in a ridiculous heap, snorting as it picked up the axe that had dropped to the ground.
“Chris would be nice to have around right about now.”
Then maybe he could have aimed for some sort of passing grade.
A troll soaked in darkness was a far more dangerous opponent than he’d expected—so much so that fighting the black mage from the city again and again might actually have been easier.
Maybe this was the hardest opponent he’d ever faced since being born.
Then his eyes fell on the sword in his hand.
Why was he fighting so desperately, staking even his life on the battle?
He could still run. If he simply reported that there was a black mage and a troll corrupted by darkness here, wouldn’t the captain of the imperial knights come and deal with it?
But that was not why he had stayed.
Even knowing it would be difficult, even knowing there was no reason for him to be doing this, he had still come here.
The answer was simple.
There was someone he had to protect. Irene was down below.
He was her bodyguard knight—he’d said he would continue to be her bodyguard knight. How could he possibly care only for his own safety with a threat like this hanging over her?
And on some level, it was almost laughable. The boy who had once run away to escape the parents who abused him was now throwing his life away to protect someone else.
But then, the past and the present were different.
Back then, all he had left was his own body. Now there was someone he had to protect.
He could never forget that smile she had given him.
On the day the first snow fell, he couldn’t forget that laugh—brighter than any snowfall, sparkling as if it were made of light itself.
He didn’t want that face to twist in pain again, and he didn’t want the tragedy that would come later to become reality.
Clink. With the scrape of metal, the sword’s blade vanished from the hilt.
The sensation was different now. The instant the axe and sword collided, he understood.
The sword he had drawn was not its true form.
Whoosh—
With a clean sound, the blade that rose once more was different from before.
No longer blue, but a pure white blade, matching his own mana.
Flames began to rise from his body.
They tore through the darkness around him, and before long the fire had painted the space itself white, rippling through the air.
He steeled himself. He hardened his resolve.
Then he decided those words were too grand, and pushed the thought aside to look ahead instead.
It wasn’t resolve, and it wasn’t conviction. Those words didn’t suit him.
He just wanted to protect her.
Maybe because he was her bodyguard knight, or maybe because she was the first person ever to acknowledge that he existed.
The reason didn’t matter.
When it came to protecting someone, no reason was necessary.
He wanted to do this. He didn’t want to regret things any longer, and he didn’t want to lose someone precious again.
Just like the younger brother he had once lost through a moment’s mistake. He didn’t want to regret it anymore.
So he raised his sword.
His body felt light.
So much lighter than before that it almost seemed as though he were floating in the air.
The world around him was brighter now. The darkness that had eaten away at the forest was driven back by the flames, and the trees that had seemed to have lost all life slowly began to recover their light.
He looked quietly at the handkerchief fluttering inside his sleeve.
The handkerchief she had given him while telling him not to dirty it was still, miraculously, spotless, and a soft laugh slipped out of him.
Since she said that, if he ever dirtied it, she’d probably have something to say about it.
Pushing the handkerchief into his chest, Evan looked back at the troll that had started charging him again. Veins stood out on the hand gripping his sword.
His heart thundered.
It beat so violently that blood surged through every part of him, and as that rising vitality flooded his body, Evan bared his teeth.
He bent his knees. With one foot drawn back, he prepared to leap forward.
Thud—
The enraged troll had already closed the distance.
Its footfalls shook the ground, and the anger in them was unmistakable.
It trampled the grass and crushed the wet earth beneath its feet, and when that foot came down toward Evan’s head—
Evan disappeared from the troll’s sight again. But the troll reacted.
It clearly thought he’d go for its ankle again, just as before, and immediately moved its rear foot.
Slash—
But it did not move. It couldn’t perceive it.
The moment it thought it had shifted its foot, its body lurched, and the troll lost its balance and toppled forward.
All the troll could see was pure white flame.
The darkness that had granted it power vanished. Light poured into the forest that had been shrouded in blackness, and that brilliance was so dazzling the troll squeezed its eyes shut.
“My foot!”
“So you can speak after all? That’s a little surprising.”
The pain from its ankle shot all the way to the backs of its knees.
Its leg no longer had the strength to bear its weight.
The axe it had swung wildly had cut down several trees, but that was all.
It couldn’t reach him.
Evan was seeing every single one of its attacks.
I’m light.
The fact that the troll could talk was surprising, yes, but what was even more astonishing was that his condition seemed better than before.
He was still nowhere near the Master realm that could dye the world in mana, but it felt as if he had grown again within the bounds of Expert.
He was surprised often enough, but what on earth was the nature of this body?
He did train hard as a matter of course, but even so, was growth at this rate really possible?
The troll’s movements, which he had needed every sense just to track a moment ago, were now astonishingly clear.
Diagonal lines slashing from the lower right to the upper left.
Every attack the troll made appeared as multiple lines, as though someone had brushed paint across the air around him.
His steps had room to spare.
His breathing was light, and the fire coursing through his body burned more fiercely than ever.
The limping troll still had no intention of surrendering.
Its predator’s eyes still burned, still regarding him as nothing more than a fragile human.
He ducked beneath the axe that skimmed over the crown of his head.
He drove into the troll’s body and thrust his sword straight into its broad, exposed belly.
Riiiip— The hide tore, and blood gushed out.
He had pierced the organs.
The troll screamed as its long, writhing intestines spilled out and slithered to the ground.
It must hurt. Pain invites carelessness.
For only a moment the troll wailed pitifully, trying to gather up the entrails spilling from its split abdomen, but then Evan drove a blade into its chest.
The blood that poured out in a rush splashed into his mouth, and he grimaced and spat it out.
The nauseating taste in his mouth made him grit his teeth as he shoved the blade in deeper, and the hard sensation of the sternum soon met his hand.
The organs inside—lungs, stomach, and heart.
Sensing that it would die if it stayed like this, the troll began to thrash wildly.
Every time that enormous body moved, the sword moved with it, and Evan clicked his tongue and escaped from beneath the troll’s giant belly.
If he stayed there any longer, he’d probably be crushed beneath it.
Thirty seconds until regeneration.
The place where he’d cut the ankle was slowly growing back.
It was probably a little slower because of the wound from his sword, but even considering that, it was a speed that made him question his own eyes.
Was there anything that could completely suppress the troll’s movements for even one moment?
Snarling, the troll picked up the axe with one hand, the split belly still clutched in the other.
Now what burned in its eyes was nothing but the savage will to kill the thing standing before it.
Maybe it intended to kill him even if it died doing it.
Evan’s mouth twisted.
It didn’t suit him, but what he felt in that moment was exhilaration.
His breath had reached its limit. His lungs, wrung dry from the effort to keep breathing, and his heart beating as though it would burst at any second—
Wasn’t the rush of breaking past one’s limits supposed to be incomparable to anything else?
His vision blurred under the flood of sensation. But his awareness remained sharp.
Even without sight, every other sense told him exactly what the troll was doing.
Clack.
He planted a foot. In this instant, he was the wind.
He gripped his sword. The pure-white blade shone, and the world around him began to fall silent.
He looked ahead. With a gaze fiercer than anything else, he drew forth the fire burning through his body and drove back the darkness.
For an instant, it seemed as though time had stopped.
The troll’s lightning-fast motions looked frozen, as if only his own time was racing ahead inside this space.
Evan moved.
The wind howled.
Like a tempest, the blade ripped through the air and advanced, drawing a white path through space.
His body struck the ground and then sprang upward into the air.
When the troll’s body was right in front of him, Evan twisted at the waist.
Like a lie, the troll’s swinging axe skimmed past him.
A few strands of hair were cut away, and a small wound opened on his cheek.
Blood splattered. But Evan smiled.
Slash—
The sword drew a line and carved a single flash of lightning through the darkness.
Like a bolt fallen from the heavens, the blade that plunged into the troll’s neck in an instant shattered the neck bone and went straight through.
Not even blood stained the sword. Not flesh, not bone fragments—just a clean blade.
The troll’s eyes, fixed on the empty air, rippled with disbelief.
No more fighting spirit remained. No will to burn on.
The massive body lurched, then began to collapse to the ground. Its severed head rolled away in the opposite direction from the body.
“...Haa.”
The severed head did not move at all.
So it was really dead now, then.
Evan stared at the troll’s head for a moment and let out a long breath.
The once-white blade turned blue again, then was sucked back into the hilt and disappeared.
Clatter—
He stared quietly at the sword hilt, then suddenly felt a gaze on him and lifted his head.
The fallen troll’s head was looking at him, and Evan shuddered when he realized its eyes were now black instead of violet.
#
“Thank you.”
“It’s a little strange hearing that from a troll with only a head left.”
“Had it not been for you, I would have fallen to corruption and my soul would have been erased as well. It is fortunate, then, that I at least regained my reason like this.”
At that, Evan frowned. A troll thanking the person who had severed its head was... something else entirely.
He had known at a glance that this one wasn’t ordinary, but he hadn’t expected it to speak so fluently.
Wasn’t this the same idiot who had been babbling, “My foot!” just a moment ago?
But the black magic that had been planted in it no longer seemed to be there, and there was no need to remain wary, so he simply stared at the troll in silence.
Perhaps it realized he was still guarding against it, because the troll chuckled heartily and spoke again.
“I suppose it isn’t easy to talk to the opponent you were fighting only moments ago. Is it strange that I can speak? Well, that’s because I’m not an ordinary troll.”
“If you’re not an ordinary troll...”
“I am Janzir, chieftain of the Red Fang Tribe and Troll Lord. Though right now I’ve got nothing left but a head and a mouth to flap, I haven’t much life left to spare, in truth!”
A Troll Lord, then. So the strength that set him apart from ordinary trolls had come from his own innate power, alongside the darkness?
When Evan looked mildly surprised, Janzir continued.
“A black mage brought down my village, and they did this to me as well. Thanks to your help, my soul alone has been released. May the protection of the Earth Mother be with you.”
“...Do you remember what the black mage looked like?”
“Their appearance? Sadly, there is only one thing I can tell you.”
“Even through my fading memories, there is one thing that remains vivid. The word Jeol-myeol.”
“Jeol-myeol.”
When that name had first appeared, Evan had thought it was a coincidence. But clearly, there had been more to it.
Black mages, and Jeol-myeol.
So it hadn’t been an organization that suddenly appeared a few years later after all.
Had they already been scheming beneath the surface? Evan narrowed his eyes, and Janzir laughed softly before speaking again.
“I’m sure you’ll handle what comes next splendidly. I can read the will in your eyes. There is someone you must protect, I take it?”
“......”
“How very shy you are. I have much to tell you. For instance, about the mana you possess. Or your bloodline.”
“Bloodline...?”
“But I don’t think I can tell you. It feels as though I’ll be dead within a few breaths. Regrettable, but I’m afraid the help I can give you ends here.”
As if he’d truly helped at all.
They’d simply fought each other fiercely, and all he’d gotten out of a decapitated troll was confirmation that Jeol-myeol had been involved again.
When Evan gave a small nod, the troll smiled faintly and moved its lips.
Its eyes had gone dim. The shining black pupils trembled and were clearly losing their light.
The mention of bloodline bothered him. Did the troll know something about the mana he possessed?
He had so many questions that his hand twitched, but that was all it did.
He looked at the now-clouded eyes for a moment, then fell silent at the voice that followed.
“Do not forget your blood. And may you one day remember the wings you once lost.”
Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, the troll’s head went still.
The sudden chill in its face made the conversation they had just shared feel like a lie.
Lost wings—what on earth did that have to do with him? He couldn’t make sense of it at all.
“Hoo.”
But he didn’t have the luxury of thinking about that now.
Shaking his head to clear the thought away, he looked up at the sky again.
Now that the darkness had fully lifted, the forest was filled with light. The gloom that had hung over it until just now felt almost like an illusion.
The darkness that had been choking him, that had pressed down on his shoulders just by being there, was gone.
Clean air filled his lungs, and when he closed his eyes, the forest’s life seemed to soak into his entire body.
He was still alive. The troll had fallen, and it was he who stood here breathing.
Then he took a step, and his legs wobbled, sending him pitching forward.
Should he rest for just a moment?
The blurred winter forest before him glowed with white light, and somehow that made his chest feel lighter.
He closed his eyes. His consciousness slowly came apart, and at last he fell into sleep.
Deeper than he ever had before.
---