When the Sword Is Wrapped in Light (1)
Maxim had said it to Theodora. “Watch my back.”
It was a phrase Theodora hadn’t heard from him in what felt like a very long time. Maxim stood facing the colossal Deathworm. His ragged breathing carried clearly over his shoulder. Theodora trusted Maxim’s skill completely. And because Maxim trusted her in turn, he had entrusted his back to her without hesitation, even with a broken leg.
Theodora offered no reply. She simply hoped Maxim would bring down the Deathworm behind her as quickly as possible, while she focused on sweeping away the swarm of monsters closing in. The creatures did not approach easily. Even though their prey was wounded, they had realized it was no simple hunt.
“...”
Theodora glanced at Maxim. He and the enormous Deathworm were locked in a standoff. She caught the faint tremor running along the tip of his blade. She had to believe in him. Pushing down the growing unease in her chest, Theodora turned her gaze toward the tightening encirclement of monsters. Right now, this had to come first.
How much longer can we hold out?
Maxim looked down at his sword. The blade, battered from brutal use, showed several chips along its edge. His heart thumped. Blood surged violently from his chest, racing down his arms to his fingertips and through his legs to his toes. Mana flowed with that blood. The taut, spinning rings of mana irritated his wounds. The scars throbbed. Maxim ignored the pain. The stabbing ache transformed into a burning one. He kept ignoring it, driving his mana harder. Fire blazed in his eyes. Condensed, explosive power gathered in his legs.
Kiiiieeeeeeek!!!
The Deathworm’s maw contracted sharply as it let out a grotesque cry. Maxim fixed his eyes on its head. It no longer swayed side to side; instead, it lowered its massive skull as if it had eyes, threatening him directly. It had clearly recognized both Maxim and Theodora. Reddish dust rose like steam from its shell. The Deathworm slowly lowered its body. Each movement cracked the wasteland floor with sharp, splitting sounds.
Should he leap in, or wait for it to charge? What was the best way to pierce that shell and drive his sword in? The distance between Maxim and the Deathworm was shrinking steadily. Even though the creature stood right in front of him, it closed the gap without any obvious approach. The shadow stretching from Maxim’s feet was swallowed by the Deathworm’s pitch-black one. Cracks spread across the thin fissures in the ground.
Maxim drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. When they opened again, the Deathworm’s mouth gaped wide. That round, near-bottomless maw was as dark as a world swallowed by eclipse. His feet twitched. Every muscle in his body screamed to kick off the ground and spring forward. Time seemed to stop. Maxim’s eyes, sharp as a drawn bowstring, read the Deathworm’s movements in excruciating slow motion—the way it coiled its massive head before launching itself.
Maxim’s stance changed. His heart, pushed past its limits, pumped mana furiously. Boom—! The Deathworm’s head not only struck the ground but drove deep, carving out a gaping hole. At the same instant, Maxim’s figure vanished.
Kieeeeek—!
The creature reared its head again, screaming in agony. A long, vivid gash had been carved into its thick shell. With every thrash of its body, translucent blood sprayed in all directions along with chunks of flesh.
“Again.”
Maxim’s form blurred, and his sword slashed across the Deathworm’s torso once more. Again. And again. Each swing of his arm left fresh wounds on the monster. With cold eyes, Maxim continued carving into it. These injuries were nowhere near enough. Unless he sliced the damn thing into pieces, there was no way to kill it. The sword he wielded now could only inflict shallow cuts.
Kyaaaaak—!
The Deathworm coiled inward, then shook itself violently. The fractured ground heaved, hurling debris everywhere.
“Damn it…!”
Shards of rock hurtled toward Maxim. He batted them aside, dodged, and rolled. The Deathworm dripped translucent blood onto the ground as it lifted its enormous body again. Maxim expected another charge, but the creature did something unexpected.
“…Oh no.”
The Deathworm’s bulk began sinking back into the earth. Its movements were far too confident to call it a retreat. Was it planning to burrow and strike from hiding again? Unfortunately, there was nothing the current Maxim could do to stop the monster from slipping back into its hole. A cloud of dust rose like a sandstorm. Maxim’s feet lunged forward, then stopped. Beyond the hazy veil, he saw the Deathworm’s head vanishing beneath the ground.
Don’t move.
Maxim froze in place. The eyeless, noseless monster could only detect him through the vibrations of his movements.
“…Wait.”
Vibrations. The strongest tremors right now were coming from behind—where Theodora was fighting. Maxim kicked off the ground and sprinted. He scooped up a startled Theodora, then leaped high into the air.
“Maxim?!”
“We have to get clear.”
“What…?”
A sickening crunch split the earth. Theodora realized what was happening and clung tightly to him.
“Hold on tight.”
Maxim murmured. Boom—! The ground yawned open. A collapsing maw of earth appeared, and beyond it, spinning saw-like teeth whirled. Then the world exploded.
The ground was caving in. The monsters that had been fighting Theodora plummeted to their deaths. Maxim felt a burning pain in his left arm. His armor had been torn away. Looking at the completely shattered pauldron on his left arm, he broke into a cold sweat.
“It’s coming…!” Theodora shouted from within his embrace.
Maxim twisted his body, enduring the pain. The Deathworm barely missed them as it shot past. Its massive bulk slammed into the cliffside. The shockwave made Maxim stagger. Once again, the Deathworm turned its head toward them.
Kigigigi.
Only its head protruded from the ground, staring at them. Theodora’s face twisted.
“This is…”
The earth trembled. The Deathworm suddenly reared its head skyward and let out a long, piercing shriek.
Kyaaaaak—!
The ground surged again. Maxim stepped across the collapsing platform, trying to escape the Deathworm’s attack range. When the creature lifted its head, its entire grotesque body was fully exposed above the surface.
“Maxim, you’ll have to use your aura,” Theodora said. “If you won’t, there’s no chance of winning—let me go…!”
There was no escape. The shattered terrain had become the Deathworm’s hunting ground. Looking up, the creature seemed even more enormous. Maxim squeezed his eyes shut. There was no time for hesitation. Theodora was in no condition to fight alongside him. Her slowed movements would only hinder him.
Are you really going to keep acting like an idiot until the end? The version of himself in the mirror had once asked.
No. Not this time.
“...”
Maxim set Theodora down. She looked at him, confused.
“Theodora, listen carefully.”
His voice was firm. Maxim opened the case at her waist, pulled out a flare, and pressed it into her hand.
“The moment I start using aura, fire the flare immediately. And…” His grip tightened. “No matter what happens, promise me you’ll prioritize your own escape.”
Theodora stared at the flare in her hand, still not fully understanding, and nodded.
“Yeah… okay.”
Maxim rose with her in his arms. Theodora thought his steps seemed lighter than before. He carried her past the still-stable ground and set her down behind a pile of rubble.
“You’ll only get in the way if you fight. Stay here.”
Maxim stood, sword in hand. The Deathworm was still emitting its horrible cries. He checked his body and found it lighter than it had been at any point in the last three years. Strangely, the pain barely registered. His scars burned as if branded, demanding attention, but Maxim ignored them cleanly.
“Have you waited long enough?”
Kyaaaaak—!
The mindless monster’s shriek rang out. The Deathworm drove its head straight toward him. The broken ground shook again, raining down boulders. Maxim leaped high. His body rose. He pierced the cloud of sand the Deathworm had kicked up and soared even higher. His body, pushed past its limits, made time itself feel sluggish. Then, descent.
Beyond the stuttering flow of time, Maxim landed. He stood atop the thrashing Deathworm’s torso. His eyes were cold. His body sent constant signals to stop this madness. Maxim’s mind ignored them. Something was being shaved away. Every time he used mana beyond his limits, he could feel chunks of himself—both body and mind—being gouged out.
Maxim reversed his grip on the sword. He hadn’t drawn his Aura Blade until now not because of some secret or his contract with the Count. It was simply because if he fell here without defeating the monster, he wouldn’t be able to send Theodora to safety.
He steadied his ragged breathing. The pain growing sharper actually helped him focus. The reversed blade touched the creature’s shell. Without further hesitation, Maxim drove it straight through. A gush of translucent blood sprayed across his cheek. The Deathworm went wild. It rolled across the wasteland to throw him off its back, slamming its body down repeatedly. Maxim focused.
“Why a knight, of all things?”
It was shortly after they had met. He remembered it being late spring or early summer. Maxim still didn’t understand why this cadet—who always wore an icy expression—showed him so many different faces.
“Why a knight?”
Maxim had echoed her question. After sunset on the training grounds, Theodora would often come to watch him practice. Once he finished, she would ask all sorts of questions while he cleaned up.
“You’re asking why I wanted to become a knight.”
Theodora looked genuinely curious. Maxim shrugged.
“…It’s not some grand dream. I just like wielding a sword. I wanted to face the world differently from the rest of my family.”
Maxim wiped the sweat from his brow. Theodora watched him clean up with evident amusement. He found himself distracted by her cloudy, lifeless eyes. To break the silence, he spoke.
“…Instead of just watching, want to help?”
“I haven’t trained for this.”
She was right. Maxim scratched the back of his head awkwardly and swept the training debris into a corner of the grounds. That was when he noticed she had already moved to stand beside him.
“Give me the broom.”
“…Why?”
“I changed my mind. I’ll help.”
Watching her extend a hand as if granting a favor, Maxim smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Just because.”
The words came on impulse.
“Want to train here together someday?”
Theodora’s eyes widened. Thinking he had said something unnecessary, Maxim waved his hands and tried to take it back, but before he could, she answered.
“Sure. I’ll come train when I feel like it.”
This time it was Maxim’s turn to stare in surprise. Theodora seemed shocked by her own agreement; she simply stared back at him with wide eyes.
“...”
“…Yeah.”
Maxim’s goal as a knight had never been lofty. But at some point, he had decided to wield his sword to protect her. He had manifested his aura a month after that conversation.
The world shook. Sky and earth flipped, the horizon tore apart. Maxim gripped his sword hilt tightly and inhaled. The mana waves inside him changed. A silent resonance spread through his body in time with his heartbeat. Aura began to coat his blade.
Aura Blade.
To knights, the words carried a complex, beautiful ring. Few knights could wield it. Out of twenty who became knights, perhaps one might manage it. No matter how talented one was with mana or how sharp one’s sword sense, using aura transcended the realm of talent and effort. Some said it was as if fate had already chosen who could wield it.
Knights who could use aura became heroes. Those who could not spent their lives honing their blades, dreaming of the day they might. Aura was a knight’s dream. It was everything to them. The aura one forged carried one’s true self. Nothing else—only one’s unvarnished self—would be embedded in the blade. The color of one’s aura was the color of one’s soul. Its shape was the shape of one’s soul.
Maxim’s aura was golden. It wasn’t the brilliant gold of the sun, but a noble, auspicious shade that neither tarnished nor changed. Theodora had once praised its beauty, saying it resembled the color of his eyes.
“…You can already manifest aura?”
At Theodora’s words, Maxim let out a hollow laugh. The night training ground was hot. The midsummer heat lingered.
“You were already using aura skillfully before you even enrolled. Why are you surprised?”
Theodora narrowed her eyes at him.
“No… how long have you been holding a sword?”
“About five years now. That’s when I first met my master…”
Maxim answered while idly tapping the ground with his blade.
“Exactly! What kind of lunatic pulls out aura after only five years of swordsmanship…?”
“…And how long has it been for you?”
Theodora stroked her sword with clear dissatisfaction.
“More than ten years. Since I enrolled.”
She drew her blade. It was a cheap academy-issued sword, but in her hand it looked entirely different. Without even concentrating, Theodora swung it through the air. The blade was instantly wrapped in a platinum-colored mist—the same shade as her hair. Maxim watched her sword with admiration. Her aura, like her personality, felt slightly unstable yet pure and flawless.
“As expected.”
This time Maxim drew his own sword. Theodora watched him with a hint of doubt. He gave her an awkward smile and began to focus. It rose. From the base of the blade, a slow, auspicious golden radiance began to envelop the sword. It was upright. The way it climbed the blade resembled a single tree growing tall. That was how Maxim displayed his aura. His insufficient mana instead wrapped the blade with even greater cohesion.
“…It really is aura.”
Theodora let out a sigh. She then looked at Maxim’s sword with clear interest.
“It’s straightforward. Just like your personality.”
Maxim lifted his blade and smiled.
“Thanks.”
“And it’s a very beautiful color.”
Theodora smiled faintly.
“Now that I think about it, I once told you that the color of your eyes is my favorite.”
Maxim’s face wavered. He lowered his head sharply, trying to hide his flushed cheeks.
“…I suppose so.”
Theodora said nothing more. She simply lifted the corners of her mouth a little higher, as if teasing him for bowing his head.
It was neither intense nor brilliant. Yet Maxim’s sword shone, steeped in golden radiance.
Theodora lifted her head. The completely collapsed ground had buried all the surrounding monsters, forcing her to focus only on the scene before her. Whirr, whirr. Maxim’s sword hummed in resonance. The Deathworm seemed to sense what was coming; it began its final desperate struggle. Maxim drove the blade deeper into its torso.
Kieeeeeeek—!
The Deathworm reared up, shrieking. Maxim spun his body while still gripping the sword. In the sky, a golden moon rose. Theodora stared at the full moon in a daze. The Deathworm’s body was sliced cleanly in half and crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, its life extinguished. Dust settled.
Theodora felt a complicated mix of emotions knowing Maxim had drawn his Aura Blade again, yet she stepped forward to see him more clearly.
“Maxim.”
She called his name. There was no answer. Maxim remained frozen where he stood after cutting down the Deathworm.
“Maxim…?”
Slowly, Maxim turned his head toward her. His face looked utterly exhausted. His eyes shook without focus. Anyone could see he was in a precarious state. Something was wrong. Before Theodora could finish the thought—
Cough.
Blood began pouring from Maxim’s mouth.