Purge Operation (4)
The Arden mana heart method was, in a word, a pure white canvas. Untainted since just learned, it embodied purity itself. What the Arden martial arts pursued was the World's Expression—the world as one saw, felt, and comprehended it. It layered one's own color or nature atop the foundation of martial arts. That was the essence of Arden techniques.
Thus, those of Arden blood who cultivated the mana heart method each imbued it with a nature that suited them. His father carried the sturdy energy of earth, his younger brother the serene energy of wind. One past family head had even infused the vibrant energy of life. And I, too, could imbue my mana with a nature.
Moreover, this wastrel body had learned martial arts but added no color or nature whatsoever. It remained pristinely white from the moment it first grasped the arts, without even the tiniest stain. In other words, I could infuse it with whatever nature I desired.
The nature I chose was poison. In response to my will, the mana in my dantian took on a poisonous energy. Of course, for someone who hadn't even learned poison arts, converting mana to poison was no easy feat. But I had excellent material: the body-melting poison from Bellum. That enabled the change in my mana's nature. And that was why I could inhale poison without issue.
The sword aura dyed itself purple. I swung the blade lightly, and everything along its path melted away.
"Wh-what the hell is that!!"
A terrified shout rang out then. I kindly answered.
"What else? A weapon to kill you with."
With that, I kicked off the ground.
"Get lost!"
Bellum bolted like a madman. True to his assassin roots, his speed was impressive.
-Haste.
Murmuring softly, wind coiled around my legs. My footsteps grew feather-light. I pursued him.
Bellum hurled his remaining hidden weapons.
"Sorry, but that won't work anymore. Actually, it never did."
A casual swing melted them. Liquid, gas—whatever it became scattered everywhere. Still, Bellum kept running without pause.
By the time he'd exhausted his hidden weapons, he stopped in one spot.
"Is that it? All out?"
"Kuhuhu, kuahaha!!"
To my question, Bellum laughed like a maniac.
"Wastrel, you're done for too!!"
Shouting that, he pressed the floor and walls simultaneously. A defensive barrier stronger than any shield formed around him. And on the ceiling, a massive magic circle appeared. At a glance, it was fire-element magic.
"Burn to death!!"
As if to prove it, Bellum bellowed confidently.
"Hm, isn't it a bit too big?"
"Begging now won't help! You'll burn without even a corpse left!"
Ways to counter magic: reverse-engineer it or shatter the circle. But reversal needed split-second timing, and the circle was too vast to destroy. At best, it'd just weaken the power slightly.
"Guess there's only one way."
I assumed my stance. Focused all mana into the sword aura. The purple deepened.
Roar—!!
With a roar, the magic circle spewed flames. Fire filled the room. Though it hadn't touched me yet, the intense heat scorched my skin.
Concentrate. Concentrate again. And the moment the flames engulfed me—
I unleashed the family swordsmanship.
Arden Swordsmanship Second Form, Variant—Whirling Storm.
A storm of sword auras raged. Blindingly fast strikes dominated the space, whipping up winds. Dozens of sword auras sliced everything the blade touched. Everything along the path melted—even the flames.
Fire meeting poison vanished without a trace. Poison and heat were natural opposites. But that held only when equal. Sword aura bearing superior energy wouldn't vanish to mere flames.
Still, as opposites, some poison-laced aura evaporated. Simple: expel denser mana.
The flames gradually cleared. Heat lingered, but fire never touched me once. Save one zone, the room had melted from the heat.
Bellum, hidden by flames, had no idea. When the magic stopped and he saw me... how hilarious would his face be?
That'll be worth watching.
Roughly five minutes. The time I'd maintained the swordsmanship. The relentless magic circle's mana finally ebbed.
I advanced, slicing residual flames.
"Kuhuhu, by now, not even bones left. Stupid bastard. Should've just... "
"Hey."
"Eurk!"
Bellum jolted in shock. Just as expected—priceless.
"H-how..."
"Fine."
Short reply, then I raised my sword.
"N-no, even you can't break this shield!"
Still trusting his barrier, he said that. I scoffed and swung.
Sizzle—
Smoke trailed the arc as the shield melted. Three more slashes left a square hole in the center.
Bellum yelled desperately.
"Negotiate! Let's negotiate!"
"Should've said that sooner."
"Money! I'll give money! All my fortune...!"
"Fuck off."
I snapped, assumed stance, and thrust.
A scream burst from Bellum's mouth.
"Nooooooo!!!"
"What's 'no' about it?"
The blade pierced his heart. Pain twisted his face. But reactions soon ceased. His upper body slumped.
For a mid-boss, an anticlimactic end. I tossed him a line.
"And what kind of third-rate villain dialogue is that?"
Scum always looked ugly when exposed, but Bellum was worse. Didn't even deserve mid-boss. Or wait, did novels end like that?
"Ah, not the time."
I hastily chipped off part of the top-grade magic stone. Infused it with necromancy and corpse-preservation magic, then embedded it in Bellum's heart.
This way, I could revive him anytime. For now, show Elraim the corpse. The stone would supply mana to maintain the spells. I'd check periodically, but this sufficed.
"Ugh, the stench is no joke."
Standing, I pinched my nose. Charred and poison smells filled the air. Wood still burned, veiling vision in smoke. I used wind magic to ventilate.
Soon, Elraim came rushing in.
"Young master!"
Blood-splattered Elraim. Armor, face, silver hair—all soaked red. Ghostly.
"Wh-where are you hurt...!"
Ignoring the room's state and smell, she dashed to me, inspecting closely. No wounds? No major injuries? Thoroughly.
"I-I'm fine..."
Resistance futile. Only after full check did she sigh in relief and release me.
"Phew, glad you're safe. That him?"
Her gaze turned to Bellum. Eyes fierce, voice chilling.
"Yeah, killed him just now."
Elraim approached the corpse. Checked the neck pulse. Nodding at confirmed death.
"Yes, he's dead."
A faint smile bloomed on her face. Bloodstained, but beauty intact.
"Well done, young master. I'll handle cleanup, so rest."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Called the guards; it'll be fine."
"If you say so. Oh, before that."
-Clean.
I cast Clean over her whole body. Felt bad leaving her filthy. Blood, sweat, dust—all gone. Silver hair restored, skin fresh.
"This is... magic, right?"
"Yeah, magic."
"But young master... Who taught you?"
"Not telling."
"......"
She pouted sulkily.
"Sis. You'll keep my secret, right?"
She flinched again. Her reaction to that word was always fun.
"F-for now... I will."
"Thanks."
Very effective. About to leave after briefing, but remembered something key. Rifled through the burnt remains. Gold coins melted, as expected. No regrets.
Headed where Bellum had pulled coins from earlier.
"This area's fine."
Lock melted, but contents intact.
"About ten million gold."
Asked her to retrieve later, then truly left the hideout.
"See you soon."
"Elraim, take care."
"Yes."
Thus ended the Kantia purge operation.
Elraim gazed at the nearly incinerated room. Furniture and items reduced to ash without form. Yet traces of battle remained. Dozens—no, hundreds—of cuts on the walls hadn't burned away.
From them, she roughly pieced together the fight.
"Young master won one-sidedly."
More weapon marks than sword cuts on walls. Meaning the assassin hurled nonstop. And desperately so. Young master unscathed; Bellum with only a heart stab. Absurd, given Bellum's level young master mentioned.
Kantia's head: top-grade Expert. Young master: barely low-grade Expert.
"How... And this."
Traces of Arden swordsmanship. Likely young master's. Second Form of four family forms. Among countless variants handed down generations: Whirling Storm.
"So refined and complete."
Even she hadn't reached that level. If from young master's hand, his swordsmanship insight and mastery exceeded expectations.
"Magic too."
Clean magic. Basic 1-circle spell any mage could cast. But young master never learned magic. Never even tried.
She knew magic demanded time and effort like knighthood, despite her ignorance.
So when did he learn? Casting speed suggested more than a day or two.
'Sis. You'll keep my secret, right?'
His words resurfaced, halting her thoughts.
"Promises must be kept."
No need to uncover secrets now. Later would do.
Elraim left for the tavern. 139 corpses visible. Floors rivers of blood; states grotesquely horrific. Limbless basic; some headless, bisected, guts strewn.
Imperial knights might vomit. Elraim cleared unfazed. Family missions familiarized her. Though the stench wrinkled her nose throughout.
"All... my doing."
She murmured. Shocked by her own brutality. Unaware she lacked mercy to this degree.
She never lost cool. Knights mustn't, she'd learned. Faced all calmly. But today, one resolve—to save young master—exploded emotions. Tossed calm aside for massacre.
"Must reflect."
Far from usual self. Meant loss of control.
"But glad he wasn't hurt."
Until seeing unharmed young master, anxiety gripped her. Had he been badly injured, she'd have lost reason.
She knew this emotion. Felt it first meeting him as a child.
"And he called me sis..."
That longed-for ring. First in nearly eight years. Couldn't stop cheeks flushing. His gaze just like childhood—bright eyes on her. Honestly, thrilled. Thought that side lost forever, but it remained.
Still vivid: calling her sis, apologizing sincerely. Genuine then.
"Must protect him."
Elraim resolved. Care for her cute little brother. As his knight.
Her dream: Kyle's knight. Recent rift made her abandon it, but cherished until his change.
"I will..."
Change stirred in Elraim's core. Will and resolve stirred talent.
Body heated, mana core spun fiercely. She felt the change clearly.
A mere trigger for some, life-altering for others.
"Become his knight. Protect him."
That decisive cause propelled her to the next realm.
"Not now, but someday."
Sword Expert Peak. Awakening five months ahead of fated future.
Cause obvious, no need to ask.