Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Mutual Destruction
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Face Stealer.
He believed in his ability.
More precisely, he believed in the power of the Faceless One's ectoplasm that had become his own—the authority it granted.
A faint crack had formed in that absolute faith upon contact with the off-spec existence known as Rishir, but his belief remained steadfast.
In fact, hadn't he shaken off even that horrific death god's mental image?
Given enough time, he could not only perfectly control that mental image but also dominate the death god itself.
Face Stealer dared not limit the authority's potential.
Rishir.
He didn't think the bastard was above the ectoplasm's authority.
The unidentified enhancement ability he had used.
If he could wield that ability, then the Faceless One's ectoplasm could wield it too.
Just like with the death god, there might be suspicious side effects hidden within that power?
Fine.
The authority's power had overcome the death god's mental image and grown stronger by stealing the faces of the special forces captain and vice-captain.
It was more than possible.
This time, no upsets.
Caught between cold calculation and excitement, Face Stealer was convinced.
And that belief betrayed him.
"Cough!!!"
The stolen enhancement power sucked in all mana like a dry sponge in an instant and began operating it in an unnatural manner.
Having grasped the true nature of the enhancement ability, Face Stealer fell into horror.
'What a barbaric bastard...!'
He had believed Rishir's enhancement drew power from external sources.
That was the most common way to exceed one's innate strength,
and the only realistic method.
But it wasn't.
The ability's true nature was to rampage one's own mana into frenzy.
In a sense, it was brilliantly ingenious.
After all,
the word that best described this mana operation wasn't "enhancement" but "self-destruction."
Who would seek to break limits through self-destruction?
And it wasn't mere self-destruction.
Full-throttle self-destruction.
This was an ability that charged down the path to ruin with all its might.
'Resonating to frenzy the mana, then using blue breathing to contain and control the rampaging mana—'
Overcoming the limits of magic and swordsmanship through their mutual interaction.
Theoretically ideal.
The problem was making that theory reality was impossible.
Even now, the ectoplasm's authority was functioning to overcome that impossibility.
Magic and swordsmanship. Alternating endlessly between them with the authority's power that could mimic any force, attempting to manage the side effects.
It fell short.
Like trying to block leaks from both directions with one arm.
Focus on resonance, and the body collapses moment by moment, unable to withstand the rampaging mana.
Focus on blue breathing, and the uncontrolled mana runs wild, accelerating the frenzy.
The ectoplasm shuttled ceaselessly between resonance and blue breathing, trying to fulfill both.
Freely traversing the realms of magic and swordsmanship.
A feat no sword master or grand mage could imitate—that was the authority in action.
Thump!
Thump!
Yet this enhancement ability refused to be tamed.
Because the core wasn't merely traversing those realms freely.
Executing magic and swordsmanship simultaneously.
That was the true core of this enhancement.
Face Stealer could declare it.
It wasn't merely near-impossible—it was impossibility incarnate.
The reason this ability was classified as self-destruction, not enhancement.
Thus, Face Stealer realized the ability's nature—
and Rishir's intent in using it.
Unlike him, who had merely mimicked it, the bastard understood this power's essence.
That using it would lead to ruin from extreme overload.
In other words—
'Inducing mutual destruction—'
At that resolve and tenacity that ignored consequences, Face Stealer felt utter disgust—
then sneered in rage.
After all—
'Foolish bastard, I'm different from you!!!'
Right now.
Rishir's body was surely collapsing uncontrollably, unable to handle the side effects.
But he was different.
The ectoplasm's authority hadn't given up even now, ceaselessly functioning to conquer the enhancement.
In that process, ways to salvage the worst outcome into the lesser evil emerged.
'Only you'll be destroyed!'
The moment to end the humiliation begun by the death god.
Face Stealer smiled in victory as he gazed at Rishir.
Rishir, cradled in Tua's arms, on the verge of death.
"Huh?"
Suddenly blurting something dumb, then calmly regaining color.
Rising as if nothing happened, facing him.
Did he too have a way to salvage the worst into lesser evil?
No.
His current state wasn't mere salvage.
As if he'd taken a sound sleep.
Or perhaps, as if reborn.
It was the optimal state.
He had completely escaped the aftermath of "mutual destruction."
"What did you...! Kugh—"
Face Stealer couldn't hold back and shouted.
His attention, focused on recovery, scattered, disrupting his condition.
Drip.
Blood poured from every orifice on his face. The bleeding he'd barely stopped worsened again.
The worst outcome he'd narrowly escaped wrapped around him once more.
Face Stealer ignored it.
He was no longer sane.
"Is that so!!! You bastard!!! You've been planning this from way back!!! To trap me!!! Who is it!!! Who put you up to this!? The Church!? Black Hand!? What did you just use!!! Their sacred relic!?"
"No!!! It just happens sometimes!!!"
"Shut that mouth!!!"
His eyes soaked in blood, his gaping mouth drooling bloody saliva in sticky threads.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Except completely killing that loathsome bastard.
The ectoplasm's authority reacted to Face Stealer's will.
It no longer tried to suppress the "self-destruction" ability.
Face Stealer surrendered to the euphoria laced with ruin.
Then collapse accelerated.
Teeth and nails fell out, skin tore and split.
Fine.
In exchange, he clearly felt power transcending his limits.
The form mimicking "Rishir" crumbled.
Skin across his body boiled like living things. Muscles swelled.
Thud!
Face Stealer stepped forward.
No trace remained of the noble youth he'd mimicked before.
It was a grotesque giant.
No. A mass of flesh with will.
Like a boulder of meat and muscle sprouted limbs.
Faceless One's ectoplasm.
It had completely devoured Face Stealer.
—Aaaaaaagh!!!!!
It roared.
A sound like cramming and crushing every kind of human—child, youth, middle-aged, elder—into a mold.
Rishir's expression twisted.
Because amid that roar, he heard the voice of the wandering swordsman, Brien.
Tua and Mangnus reacted the same.
Because amid that roar, he heard the hero party's voices.
It charged at Rishir's group like hurling its massive body.
Log-like arms swung like iron maces.
As if an explosion erupted.
Dust billowed thickly. A crater formed where its arm slammed.
An absurdly powerful blow.
But equally dull.
Rishir's group scattered in unison, easily dodging before counterattacking.
No longer was there the tricky genius stealing every technique on sight.
Dominated by emotion, self lost, devoured by the ectoplasm. Now it was merely a swollen lump of flesh and mana.
Compared to Face Stealer, it felt almost courteous—simple to fight.
Stab!
Stab!
Of course, simple didn't mean easy.
"This...!?"
Tua and Mangnus, who slipped in and stabbed its side, twisted in expressions.
Its body, forged of mana and muscle, was tougher than imagined.
"Kaaaaaaaah!!!"
It bellowed, swinging its arms.
Like shaking off annoying insects.
A full-force strike meant to be fatal, treated as bug swat.
Before humiliation, Tua and Mangnus felt distress.
"Mangnus!"
The special forces captain and vice exchanged glances, shaking heads in sync.
No more waste.
They'd inferred enough from the first blow.
Impossible to stop that monster with their power alone.
"What the hell—"
"Captain!?"
"Rishir!!! What is all this—"
In that sense, perhaps fortunate.
The explosion-like roar from its attacks drew people.
Gus mansion guards.
Guests staying at Gus mansion and their escorts.
Even other special forces members.
In moments, a force like an army formed.
"Keep distance! Attack from range!!!"
Mostly seasoned troops, they took expert measures instantly.
Magic, arrows, every attack flew at it.
Its massive size took every hit without waste.
"..."
It didn't care a bit.
Not even roaring as it did against Rishir's group.
Born of rage toward Rishir's group, it ignored all else, backed by power granting that indifference justification.
"What the hell is that—"
Those watching from afar showed bewilderment.
How to stop a monster like that?
For those bearing its full attention, even more exasperating.
"Rishir!!!"
Tua shouted urgently.
"Any way to subdue it!?"
Now, only his "anyway" pouch was trustworthy.
Tua hoped something from his pouch would resolve this "anyway" situation too.
"...Sword beam!"
Rishir shouted after deliberation.
"Sword beam should pierce it, right!?"
Tua and Mangnus smiled bitterly at Rishir's words.
"Yeah, it would."
Sword beam: a blade forged by will.
An application of manifestation mastery.
At 7th circle, Tua and Mangnus handled manifestation mastery adeptly.
"Then—"
"But I can't wield sword beam proficiently yet!"
Still, they fell short for real combat use.
Explosive power to manifest sword beam.
Focus to maintain it.
Those qualities weren't gained merely by mastering manifestation.
Tua and Mangnus felt no shame.
Sword beam wasn't sword masters' symbol for nothing.
Imitable at late 7th circle minimum, practical at early 8th.
"So no other way but sword beam!?"
"No! Use sword beam!"
"Didn't you hear me!"
"I can handle it, albeit limited!"
"?"
"?"
Tua and Mangnus doubted their ears, staring at Rishir.
At him, bleeding from every facial orifice, yet calm.
"...I see!!! Perfect timing!!!"
"Pardon?"
"Means we'll cover so you can close in!"
Their talk happened while dodging its attacks.
Truly leisurely scene, but limits exist.
They were slowly backed toward the mansion wall.
Change direction, and it'd be lured to others.
Time to settle.
"Captain!!!"
"Stay back!"
Tua restrained special forces approaching from the group.
"Ngh—any way to stop it!?"
"Sword beam!"
"Sword beam...!?"
Awe filled the special forces members' eyes at Tua.
"Understood! Captain, we'll cover you!"
"Not me—cover Rishir!"
"?"
"Rishir delivers the sword beam strike!"
"?"
"Rishir, ready!?"
"Yes! In peak condition!"
"..."
"..."
Tua and Mangnus barely shoved back the bleeding-from-every-orifice, peak-condition-claiming Rishir, then charged.
Abandoning distance kept till now, diving in.
Whoosh!
It swung full force at Tua burrowing rightward.
Tua dodged, but proximity brought crushing standby sound and fierce wind pressure.
"Ngh!"
Tua barely held stance, stabbing its exposed side.
Yelling, with all his might.
Simultaneously, Mangnus burrowing opposite slashed its pinky toe full force.
Crack in thick flesh.
"Uwaaaaaah!!!"
A true scream burst from its maw.
Like an angry child, it flailed both arms wildly.
Ridiculous form, but not power.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Amid wind-ripping deadly sounds, a dull thud mixed in.
Just grazed by its arm tip.
That alone sent Tua and Mangnus flying at speed, crashing into walls, tumbling floors.
It roared, clutching legs.
Its gaze fixed on defenseless Tua and Mangnus.
Not missing the chance, it advanced to finish them.
"Hey."
Then.
Sudden brake on its body.
Most hated voice seized its attention.
Voice from close behind.
It turned, swinging arm.
Log-thick finger tip barely grazed Rishir's nose tip.
Even in that razor-edge, Rishir's stance unwavering.
Crouched in horse stance.
Gaze forward.
Its front exposed from full swing, defenseless.
Step.
Step contrasting its heavy tread, alien lightness.
That light step carried Rishir into its embrace instantly.
"!!!"
Blood-soaked, bloodshot eyes flashed joy.
The hated bug entered range willingly.
It raised both arms high to smash Rishir down—
But Rishir's sword already swung.
Momentum-laden upward slash.
"Cough!"
Rishir spat a handful of blood.
Unlike before, he was in peak condition.
Yet coughed blood same as before, from all-out exertion recreating prior exhaustion.
Murder ghost's breath-stealing all-in strike.
Plus Rishir's instantaneous all-in enhancement.
For a moment, Rishir's sword seemed extended.
So vivid was the sword beam manifesting on it.
Crack.
Its body made rock-splitting sound.
Then diagonal line across its body.
Body split along that line.
Blood and pus gushed from the rift.
Battle end.
"Hahk—...! Hahk... Huh?"
Rishir, catching breath after all-in strike.
He approached Face Stealer's corpse.
There, fist-sized ectoplasm lump fallen.
Silence hung over the area awhile.
"A mage with sword beam..."
One special forces member's dazed mutter broke it.
Sword beam.
To swordsmen, ultimate ideal and symbol.
That sword beam, from not captain or vice, but Gray Tower mage's hand.
Swordsmen including special forces couldn't accept, felt confusion.
Soon, cheers erupted from the group behind them.
Merchants reacting "Whoa!!!" to the scene.
One merchant, hyped, asked his escort.
"Did you see!? Sir Rishir's technique!!!"
"...Of course."
"Can you do it? Pure swordsmanship, you'd be superior as a swordsman!"
"..."
Complex expressions from those with swords at waists around.
"Hm? Ah, swordsmanship or magic? Well, Sir Rishir's main is mage."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Those with swords at waists darkened.