Chapter 19: The First Letter (19)
Chapter 19: The First Letter (19)
Helplessness is a miserable emotion.
Seria had been keenly aware of that fact since she was a child. It had been that way since she was six years old, when her mother was driven out of the lord’s castle for the crime of being lowborn.
The Yurdina family placed absolute importance on noble bloodlines. There was nothing a mere six-year-old child could do. Moreover, was she not also lowborn?
Her wailing mother, her father standing with a cold, ruthless expression, and her half-sister watching the scene with indifference.
All her memories always began from that point. It was a nightmare nailed into her life like a curse. From that day on, Seria resolved never to be helpless again.
She believed that was the only way she could overcome the memory of that day.
Her father’s eyes, as cold as dawn frost, and the gaze of her half-sister looking down at her with pity, still followed her like a haunting painting.
Whenever she recalled that time, Seria felt suffocated. Every time she had the nightmare, she would wake up gasping for air.
So, she swung her sword like a madwoman. Yet, she still could not defeat her half-sister. Her life was a history of defeat.
The Sun of Yurdina—her sister—had to win by any means necessary, and the object of comparison was always her, the lowborn one.
Now, there was no more chance. Once her half-sister stepped out into the world, Seria would never be able to stand on the same level again. In this world, the gap between a legitimate heir and the lowborn was that extreme.
That was why she was impatient. To avoid feeling helpless, to avoid recreating the misery of that day, she pushed herself to train beyond her limits.
And yet, was this the result?
Seria gasped for breath. She was barely managing to take steps, but her ankle throbbed so sharply she could hardly move. The heat radiating from the sprain had long since swallowed her senses like a ball of fire.
Cold sweat poured down her face. Nevertheless, Seria moved forward, gritting her teeth. At times, her sword served as a cane.
That sword, the path of the sword she had devoted her entire life to, was powerless.
A man was supposed to be fighting in her stead. Judging by the presence she felt, there were several, perhaps more than ten.
No matter how low-rank the demonic beasts were, facing ten of them alone was a grueling task. What if they weren't low-rank?
Just imagining that possibility made Seria’s heart swell as if it would burst with guilt.
Stumbling along, she tripped over a tree root and fell. Dirt and grass clung to her body.
She felt like crying. She had sworn never to cry again after that day.
Until now, there had been no one by her side. From the moment she was born until now, always.
Her mother, who had been on her side, had already been taken away. As if trying to erase even the traces of her mother from her life, the family refused to even tell her of her mother’s whereabouts.
She had grown up amidst contempt. Even after her talent for the sword was recognized, she kept no one close.
Because she couldn't trust anyone. The people of the family either monitored her, bullied her, or took subtle pleasure in slandering her. For those same people to one day bow their heads and treat her like a master...
She was sick of it. That was why she had never built any human relationships.
At least, that was true until recently. Now, for the first time, she had someone she could call a 'friend.'
—Friends don't usually say things like that to each other.
Senior Ian, who said those words, had seemed sincere.
How could he be like that?
Seria knew. In her first sparring match with Ian, he had shown terrifying skill, but he hadn't been the same since.
He had a sharp edge that made him better than the mid-to-low ranks, but he still lacked the fundamentals and mana capacity to reach the top ranks.
The man named 'Ian Percus' whom Seria had observed over the past few days was definitely like that. And he wasn't the type to act recklessly out of overconfidence in his own abilities.
Yet, he had stepped onto a path where he might die, in her place. It was something she simply could not understand.
Was it not her responsibility? Therefore, it was something she had to take responsibility for. Even if someone died, it should be her, and he should live.
But Ian had shattered these clear-cut logic in an instant. Seria couldn't understand him, but she felt something faintly.
Perhaps that was what a 'friend' was. Thinking this, Seria forced her body up as if crawling from the ground.
There was a part of Seria that desperately hoped Senior Ian wouldn't die.
For that to happen, she didn't care if her ankle snapped; she had to inform Professor Derek somehow.
So she clawed at the ground, crawled, and stumbled back to her feet.
How much time had passed? She felt a presence ahead of her. Her mind was hazy from running and rolling with all her might.
Perhaps that was why the other party was the first to detect her. After hearing some whispering, three people appeared before her.
The rugged Professor Derek, and the black-haired girl who had been chatting beside him. Come to think of it, she had seemed like Ian's friend.
She couldn't remember the name. Nor the other second-year student who seemed to be in their group.
Seria swatted away Professor Derek’s hand as he approached her in surprise and spoke.
"Demonic beasts..."
Professor Derek’s bewildered gaze turned toward her. The other two were the same.
However, it didn't take long for the three of them to freeze in place.
"Demonic beasts... attacked... Senior Ian is... in danger..."
Though gasping for air, Seria looked at Professor Derek with a desperate plea in her eyes. Without a word, Professor Derek turned his gaze toward the direction Seria had come from.
Then, he left her with a single word.
"...Well done."
At that moment, Professor Derek vanished, leaving not even an afterimage as he bolted from the spot. The black-haired girl followed close behind him. The remaining girl hovered anxiously for a moment before turning and running elsewhere.
Soon, the sound of students buzzing could be heard from the direction she had run. They began to rush out, grabbing their respective weapons. It seemed they were going to join the fray.
Please, let him be alive.
Seria prayed as she struggled to catch her breath.
Her head spun from the lack of oxygen to her brain. That was why she didn't realize.
That it was the first prayer she had ever offered for another person in her life.
The lonely girl had, without realizing it, allowed someone to stand by her side.
The two wolves charged in a zigzag pattern. It seemed to be the result of some coordination, as their strides never tangled.
My vision was a blur of motion. But ultimately, the moment they would pounce was fixed.
At the very last second, the wolves’ sprint faltered for a fraction of a heartbeat to gather the explosive momentum needed for their leap.
I held my breath and lowered my gaze.
I had to find the 'signs.' They were merely demonic beasts. They would be less skilled than humans at hiding their muscles and intentions. Moreover, my senses were sharper now than they had ever been.
Come. At that moment, a virtual trajectory was drawn before my eyes.
It was the realm of intuition. I immediately twisted my body, slipping through the microscopic gap between those trajectories. In that moment where time seemed to stand still, my sword spun with a whoosh. My hand gripped the sword in a reverse hold.
With a sharp sound that tore through the air, two grey projectiles brushed past me by a hair’s breadth. The massive bodies launched at high speed possessed terrifying physical force. If I hadn't dodged, I wouldn't have escaped serious injury.
I drove the sword I had prepared straight down. The blade plunged vertically into the back of a wolf that was flying past, unable to overcome its own momentum.
The mana-infused sword vibrated as it tore through muscle. My aura shouldn't have been this dense, but as time passed, the mana coating my blade was growing more vivid in hue.
Squelch. Avoiding the spine, the blade embedded diagonally in the back tore through the wolf's body on its own.
It was a critical hit. The wolf let out a scream, spraying blood as it collapsed in the same posture it had used to leap.
It was then. The other wolf, which had evaded my blade, lunged at me again.
I immediately drew my sword and swung it horizontally. My blade wedged itself into the wolf's gaping maw. An angle that bypassed the protruding molars to slice all the way to the throat.
However, perhaps because the fatigue in my muscles was too severe, the strength in my grip faltered, and the sword could go no further.
Crunch. The wolf desperately bit down on the sword to survive. Its bite force was terrifying. I couldn't pull the sword out immediately.
That was when the wolf with the shredded back attempted its final struggle. Squeezing out the last of its strength, it opened its massive jaws to tear into me.
My sword wouldn't budge, and it was too late to dodge.
In that desperate moment, when my brain, searching for a way out, seemed to burn white—
My hand naturally fumbled at my waist. There, I felt a strange sensation.
It was a hand axe. A sub-weapon that had been hanging from my belt for some time.
My arm pulled the hand axe out of its own accord. Being a weapon much shorter than a sword, its speed was incomparably faster.
And I brought the raised axe straight down.
With a thud, the hand axe slammed into the nose of the wolf with the gaping jaws. Its mouth snapped shut instantly, and the wolf’s head was driven into the ground.
The final struggle of a life giving its all ended just like that.
The wolf that had been pinning my sword with its jaw shook its head in panic, trying to get away from me. Its pitch-black eyes, which didn't reflect even a glimmer of light, were drenched in terror.
That was the last emotion the wolf felt. The hand axe struck the wolf's skull like a bolt of lightning.
Thud, thud, thud. Along with the sound of the axe striking repeatedly, bits of flesh and bone scattered in all directions.
Only after brain matter burst out and blood soaked the axe did the hunt come to an end.
The two wolves were gone; only two corpses remained.
I felt like I was going to die of exhaustion. I barely resisted the urge to collapse right there. There was still one presence left.
However, that presence was uniquely strange.
It didn't move. After approaching to a certain distance, it remained there nonchalantly. That made it all the more suspicious.
Was it waiting in a trap? Or perhaps it was waiting for me to tire out. A clever hunter would certainly do so.
Wolves and humans. Now, it was impossible to tell who was the hunter and who was the prey. I steadied my ragged breathing and enjoyed a brief rest, leaning my back against a nearby tree.
The last wolf still didn't move. Instead, it even circled leisurely around the spot where it stayed. As if daring me to come.
For a damn dog... I let out a hollow laugh, find the situation absurd.
But there was no need to fight as it wished. I was exhausted, and it was fresh. Besides, if it was telling me to come to that spot, it must have some scheme.
There was no reason to respond to such a childish provocation. Once Professor Derek arrived, it would either tuck its tail and run or become another corpse in this clearing.
But then, a faint scent of medicine brushed the tip of my nose.
I froze. It was a scent I had smelled somewhere before. There weren't many fragrances that were so thick and long-lasting.
Even amidst this stench of blood, it was a scent that stood out. My body stood up as if possessed.
I walked toward the clearing where the creature was waiting. This scent... it was definitely the smell of a workshop.
Only a student who spent all day in an alchemist's workshop would carry such a scent.
My steps came to a dead halt when I discovered the giant wolf standing in the middle of the clearing.
The wolves I had faced so far were formidable in size, but this one was even larger. Its shoulder height alone seemed to exceed 2 meters. It was a size that required me to look up just to meet its eyes.
The midday forest was silent. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating its massive form. Before that terrifying monster, I looked like a mere dwarf.
But the reason I was speechless wasn't because I was overwhelmed by its size.
It was the small scrap of cloth the wolf was holding in its mouth.
The blood-stained cloth was a piece of the clothes Emma had been wearing that day.
The creature spat the scrap of cloth out as if mocking me. Then, with a sly smirk, it looked around as if showing off.
Various animals were lined up there. If there was anything unusual, it was that every single one of them had its belly slit open and its intestines spilling out.
It hadn't done this because it was hungry. It was simply for sport.
That is what demonic beasts are. Beings seething with endless malice toward external life.
I let out a sharp laugh. That small sound soon echoed loudly through the forest.
Pfft, hahaha, heh-heh-heh.
It felt as if I had let out every kind of laugh I could. It was only after a long time that the laughter finally subsided.
It felt like my brain was cooking from the heat. My chest throbbed so hard that my brain pulsed along with my heart. It reached the point where my head began to ache.
Until then, the creature waited for me patiently. If anything, its eyes looked expectant.
So, I decided to gladly give it what it wanted.
Clack. The tip of my sword pointed toward it. A growl escaped my throat.
"Hey."
Grin. The corners of the creature's mouth curved into an arc. As if it had expected as much.
"You're dying by my hand today."
I'll make sure of it.
Only then did the wolf take a leisurely step, scanning me as if observing its prey.
The eyes of a hunter targeting its mark—but today, the prey would be him.
My eyes sank into a chilling, desolate light.