Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Superhuman, A Mere Human (2)
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"What the hell is a superhuman, anyway?"
Thud.
As he leaped down the snowy mountain, Raniel suddenly recalled a conversation from the past. It was the story that Kuntel, the superhuman of the sword, had told him when he'd asked what a superhuman really was.
"Well, that's a question that's been passed down steadily since Galatric, who founded the Sword Gorge. Truth be told, even in the Sword Gorge, we haven't found any systematized conditions for becoming a superhuman. We can only speculate."
What is a Swordmaster—what is a superhuman of the sword?
No, before that, what the hell is a superhuman?
It was an incredibly ancient question.
'Those who can perform perfect movements in any situation. Those who possess superhuman senses that transcend humanity.'
That was all Raniel knew.
Of course, since Raniel had never experienced that realm himself, he couldn't say for sure... but superhumans often described it that way.
"It's like the feeling that the limits of growth disappear."
Kuntel had said this while swinging his sword.
"When you smash through the wall blocking your path and look beyond, you see a vast plain. A plain so wide it feels like you'll never reach it in a lifetime."
Muttering this, Kuntel tapped his wrinkled forehead and gave a wry smile.
"Of course, if you've hit the limit of your lifespan like me, it's useless. In the end, even a superhuman is nothing special without those 'super senses.' Just a human who grows old and dies. Not some transcendent being like the Hero—a mere human."
That's what makes it meaningful.
Kuntel had said that.
At the time, Raniel had asked Kuntel,
'What the hell is that wall?'
The wall that one must overcome to become a superhuman.
Raniel had never experienced it.
"The given limit of growth."
Kuntel had answered his question.
"Unless you're an exceptional case like you, the Saintess, the Divine Archer, or the Hero... no matter your talent, the wall exists. Equally for everyone."
The point that ordinary people can't surpass.
The limit of growth.
In the gorge, they called that limit the 'wall.'
"Its form and position vary. No two are the same. Even just among sword superhumans, they're all different—what about mages, then?"
So, how does one face that wall?
"You already know, don't you?"
Kuntel shrugged with a wry smile.
"I've always said it."
The answer he'd heard then.
Raniel unconsciously mulled it over.
"Nothing's as efficient as real combat."
Raniel had interpreted that sentence roughly like this.
"Rolling right up to the brink of death."
It was a truth that held across all ages and lands.
The words slipped out unconsciously, lingering in the air.
2.
Thud, boom.
The violent pounding of his heart.
Drip.
Cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Gulp.
The metallic tang of blood when he swallowed dryly.
"Hoo..."
His breath rising to his chin.
Rak exhaled shortly and lifted his head.
'Death.'
Rak sensed death in everything.
Some deaths were distant. Some were close. They seemed infinitely far at a glance... but the tiniest mistake, and they approached in great strides.
'A mistake leads straight to death.'
Right now, Rak felt that to his bones.
Thud.
Rak ran across the snowfield, eyes wide. What filled his vision was the enemy he had to face. In the not-short exchange, Rak gauged his opponent's strength.
'Strong.'
Incredibly strong.
Faithful to the basics, never straying from his position. A knight with unflashy, balanced strength. He stuck faithfully to his role.
Boom!
When he stomped, the ground shook.
His barrier of light didn't break easily.
"As the Lord desires..."
And what of the old man hiding behind the light barrier?
A cardinal, was it? Rak had heard rumors about the old man. A devout believer who led the charge against heretics more than anyone.
"...let there be light."
Indeed, just as the rumors said.
The old man's prayers were swift. Swift prayers meant swift spells. Spells completed in an instant were threatening. Especially that speed.
Whoosh!
Rak tilted his head back to dodge the spell. The one he couldn't dodge, he swatted away with his axe. His hand gripping the axe trembled.
'If I hadn't used Overheat, I couldn't win.'
The Rak of a few months ago would surely have lost.
"Hoo..."
Rak exhaled.
Steam leaked through his teeth. As he exhaled the boiling steam, Rak regripped his axe.
Yes, a few months ago, he would have lost.
But not now.
'This isn't a fight without a chance.'
That's what Rak thought.
The wall was sturdy. Tall. But not so unbreakable... not so unscalable.
'I've even landed a hit on stronger foes, ones who seemed to have no gaps at all.'
He recalled the battle in the forest.
The moment he'd landed a blow on Professor Lania—he would never forget it.
'No matter how strong the enemy, gaps exist.'
Rak had always been faithful to learning.
Recalling the experiences of the past half year, Rak kicked off the ground. With each step forward, his body accelerated.
Shraaaaa!
Sliding across the snowfield, Rak closed in.
In an instant, he narrowed the distance and swung his axe down like a stamp. One axe rang against the shield.
Claaaang!
The wall gave a little.
There was only one axe. But another axe precisely followed the trajectory of the first.
Clang, claaang!
Metal clashed against metal. Sparks flew.
The holy knight, Berlang, focused on defense. There was no opening for a counter like before. The cardinal chanted a spell, seeking an opening for retaliation.
"Light..."
The moment light flashed.
Rak's pupils contracted. As if he'd been waiting for that exact instant, Rak's movements sped up another level.
Shraaaak!
Snow sprayed.
Rak's eyes moved rapidly.
'Five.'
Reading the trajectories of the light arrows fired at him, Rak pulled his shoulders back. In the moment his tensed muscles stretched, Rak swung his arm.
Whoosh!
That was the moment.
Something neither the cardinal nor Berlang could have anticipated happened.
Kagagagang!
Rak deflected all five arrows with a single swing. Their trajectories shifted. Where to? Before Berlang could check, the ensuing impact answered for him.
"Ugh!"
Five impacts rang against the shield in succession.
Berlang staggered back two steps. Bewilderment flickered briefly in his eyes.
'It works.'
Rak saw the gap.
A beast that spots a gap bares its fangs. Rak immediately pursued the retreating Berlang.
Clang, claaang!
A crack formed in the shield.
The crack widened.
Shrak!
Rak didn't stay in one place. He kept moving. The snowfield was like a front yard to northern warriors. Rak knew how to move on snow.
'Like sliding.'
His footprints stamped into the snowfield.
The prints weren't broken. They formed a continuous line, messily adorning the mountainside.
'Sometimes forcefully.'
Boom!
Snow flew into the air.
Rak's axe cleaved through the snow, slamming the shield. Berlang kept being pushed back. The cardinal stopped firing arrows and emitted a wave of light.
"Begone before the light!"
The light wave sent Rak flying.
But only for a moment. Landing with a slide on the snowfield, Rak immediately followed up. Like a beast stalking bleeding prey.
Whoosh!
Swinging his axe, Rak thought.
'I see the gap.'
His mind was cool.
His body was hot.
His movements were light.
Rak's speed increased a bit more.
He swung, then stamped.
Repeating the two motions. The effect was clear. The dented shield was on the verge of tearing.
Splat!
Wounds accumulated on Rak's body too. An arrow he couldn't deflect grazed his flesh. Some embedded. But Rak's movements didn't slow.
Drip, drip.
Bleeding, Rak swung his axe.
His fingers, unable to withstand the rebound, cracked with a snap—but it was fine.
'I see it.'
Crack.
'Now.'
Rak swung his axe.
He wedged it into the opened gap. The sturdy city wall began to crumble. Rak kicked the wedged axe with his foot.
Crack!
The shield shattered. Berlang's eyes shook. Rak pressed in one more step. He swung the axe in his remaining hand. And that was the moment.
Thud.
Berlang stomped. As if the shaking eyes were a feint, he thrust his fist. The light veil that had enveloped his whole body now cloaked only his fist.
'Impressive. But lacking experience.'
Berlang had been waiting for his chance.
He knew walls eventually crumble. That's why he'd targeted the moment the shield shattered. The instant his opponent, blinded by victory, charged in.
Whoosh.
Berlang's fist tore through the air toward Rak's head burrowing into his guard. Unavoidable. Even tilting his head back was too late.
'But why...'
"......"
Rak's eyes didn't waver.
As if he'd already foreseen it.
...Everyone has a hidden card.
How long you conceal it can sometimes decide victory or defeat.
Flash.
The axe handle in Rak's hand glowed.
For the first time since the fight began.
Shock.
Craaack! The shockwave from the axe blade struck Berlang's fist. It didn't stop or bend the fist... but it made it hesitate for a moment.
And that brief gap was enough.
Rak, burrowing into his guard, swung up the axe blade.
Slash.
The cut was clean.
Berlang's fist went no further.
Drip, splatter.
Blood poured. Berlang belatedly understood. Blood dripped from the cross-section of his severed arm.
"Guh, guuuuh...!"
Rak's final hidden card.
Rak's class was Battle Mage.
A mage for real combat, able to cast a simple spell or two anytime.
"For now, you're a mage, right?"
Rak only knew the straight path.
He had always learned steadfastly.
That steadfastness sometimes looked foolish. Easy to mock. But because he'd persevered tenaciously in his studies. Because he took nothing lightly. Because he never ignored any teaching.
"Don't forget that you're a mage."
Rak never forgot what he'd learned.
"Guh, guh..."
That decided victory.
"Gaaaahhh!"
Unable to endure the pain, Berlang screamed.
He clutched the stump with one hand, eyes bulging. Rak saw no reason to meet that gaze.
Snap!
Rak kicked Berlang's knee with his toes.
He felt the clear sensation of bone shattering.
"Kuh!"
Berlang knelt.
As holy knights usually did, sever one of their praying arms... and they could no longer use holy magic.
'They become useless, the warriors said.'
Crack!
Rak smashed Berlang's face with his knee.
"Kgh..."
With a nosebleed bursting, Berlang collapsed. Leaving him behind, Rak strode forward.
"...Barbaric."
The cardinal frowned and stepped back. Rak didn't answer immediately. He surveyed the cardinal's surroundings.
"......"
Corpses everywhere.
Flowing blood reached Rak's toes. Rak's eyes grew cold. He didn't avert his gaze from the gruesome sight. Instead, he took another step.
Halt.
The cardinal retreated no further.
Because an altar stood at his back. Light overflowed from the nearly complete altar.
'I can't let them destroy the altar...'
This altar was more important than his life.
The cardinal stopped fleeing and glared at Rak.
"As desired, light..."
His prayer went unfinished.
Slash.
Something severed the cardinal's neck.
The cardinal couldn't comprehend for a moment. The barbarian before him hadn't swung his axe. He just stood there, eyes wide in surprise.
Thud.
Belatedly, the cardinal's head fell into the snow.
Face half-buried in blood-soaked snow, in his dying moment, he saw who had beheaded him.
Step.
Sword Ghost.
A ghost was walking over his corpse.
"...Ah."
The ghost's eyes met Rak's.
Bloodshot red eyes met red eyes. Draka slowly raised his sword.
"You're going to stand in my way too, huh."
In that moment, Rak intuited.
That death was whispering in his ear.
That the distant death had come right before him.