Dies Irae
Descending from the heights along the ridge, the sight that greeted Kyle was one of soldiers madly swinging spears and swords at each other. They wielded their weapons as if every man before them was the sworn enemy of their parents. Even if that were true, the sheer frenzy should have left them exhausted after a few swings, yet these soldiers showed no sign of slowing. They looked ready to keep slaughtering until not a single soul remained, lost in a torrent of pure madness. Without hesitation, Kyle threw himself into the chaos.
“Have these bastards all lost their minds?”
Kyle casually knocked out the soldiers who turned their weapons on him, quickly assessing the battlefield. In the distance, Myungwol was doing the same—dropping soldiers one by one—but the two of them alone could never hope to pacify an entire war zone. Killing them all would have been simpler. It would take time, yes, but the outcome would eventually be certain. Saving both sides in the heat of battle, however, was almost impossible. Being an Aura Master didn’t mean he had ten extra hands.
There’s something behind this.
Kyle had seen people move with this kind of unnatural frenzy before—during the academy cultural festival. Aria’s ability had been exceptionally powerful, but that didn’t mean others with similar gifts couldn’t exist.
“Diiiiiie—Gack!”
Kyle instantly subdued the soldier charging at him with a raised blade and poured Holy Power into the man’s body. He was checking whether this was the work of a dark magic curse. Unfortunately, the soldier showed no reaction to the sacred energy and continued thrashing wildly.
With a heavy thud, Kyle punched the soldier into unconsciousness, then straightened up and let out a long sigh.
“Now what?”
Hundreds of soldiers still needed to be taken down. Dozens were already bleeding out from stab wounds. No matter how fast he and Myungwol worked, they couldn’t prevent even more deaths. Intimidating frenzied soldiers who were willing to charge an Aura Master seemed impossible, and even if they knocked everyone out now, nothing guaranteed the same nightmare wouldn’t start all over again.
“—Kyle!”
“Huh? Myungwol. Where are you right now…”
“Buy me a moment!”
After locking eyes with Kyle, Myungwol left the battlefield in his hands and sprinted off. Kyle, about to follow, swung his fists at the soldiers, knights, and mages rushing him and exhaled deeply.
“…Fine. First, I’ll break their arms and legs so they can’t do anything.”
Kyle drew his sword, then reversed his grip, seizing the blade itself. Mordhau. A technique that turned the sword into a blunt weapon.
CRACK!
“Gaaah—?!”
“Ugh!”
Using the sword like a club, Kyle began shattering the soldiers’ limbs. Watching them crawl across the ground with broken arms and legs, his eyes started to gleam.
“Come.”
Soon after, the sickening sounds of bones snapping filled the battlefield.
It definitely came from this direction—.
Myungwol, who had left Kyle behind on the battlefield and raced ahead alone, stopped when he sensed the energy he had felt earlier nearby. It was an eerie presence—something between mana and dark mana. A presence radiating an intensely ominous aura stood before him.
“Come out.”
With those words, Myungwol drew his blade in a flash. His lightning-fast quick-draw sliced through the surrounding trees and bisected the people hiding behind them. As corpses piled up with torsos and lower bodies separated, Myungwol’s eyes tracked the shadow that had evaded his strike.
The figure who had dodged his blade wore a suspicious robe and let out a low, mocking laugh.
“You tell me to come out, then immediately swing your sword… My, what an impatient personality.”
“Silence.”
Myungwol frowned at the voice. It was grotesque—impossible to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. Like a monster scraping iron across a metal plate. The unpleasant tone could not be produced without some special ability. Without asking questions, Myungwol unleashed another draw.
His ultra-fast iaijutsu, refined to the absolute limit—even Kyle would have struggled to evade it—sliced toward the robed figures.
“Block it.”
Facing that lethal strike, the robed figures offered no resistance. They simply charged straight into the path of his blade as if throwing their lives away. For a moment, Myungwol wondered if they truly didn’t understand what an Aura Master was. Were they really trying to stop an invincible glowing blade with their own bodies?
But that wasn’t the case. As he continued piling up corpses, Myungwol suddenly felt an alien energy flow through his heart and froze.
“Wh-what…”
“—You ignorant swordsman. How long did you believe this world belonged only to you?”
The robed figure spoke and threw off the hood. When Myungwol saw the face that emerged, his heart nearly stopped. It was a face he knew all too well.
“Hyea… Why are you…”
“Oppa.”
His lover. The woman he had loved more than anyone. Of course, this wasn’t some clichéd twist where his beloved had crossed the sea to commit evil deeds on a distant continent. She had died years ago. Myungwol himself had buried her body. It was not something he could ever forget. He had heard of necromancers who toyed with corpses, but this did not seem to be their work. The person before him was unmistakably Hyea herself. And she was alive.
“What is this? You definitely died that day.”
“I will die again. By your hand, oppa.”
“What? What are you—”
Before he could finish, Myungwol’s hand began moving on its own. He frowned and stared down at it. His body was acting independently. This should have been impossible for an Aura Master capable of controlling every cell in his body at will.
That same hand gripped the sword hilt. His body assumed a stance it had known for a lifetime. Myungwol instinctively understood what would happen next.
“No—”
Before the word could fully leave his lips, his blade had already sliced through her neck. The ultra-fast draw that even fellow masters struggled to defend against—the very technique once praised by the kings of the East—had been unleashed. The woman he loved dropped to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.
“Hyea… Hyea— Aah… Aaaaaah—!”
The grief of losing his beloved again. The helplessness of having cut her down with his own hands. All of it ignited a single blazing emotion.
Sing the song of wrath.
“Whew… whew… Finally caught up.”
Kyle, arriving late to the scene, tilted his head at the sight of Myungwol gripping his sword hilt with trembling hands.
“Huh? What’s going on—”
Swish.
Kyle instinctively leaned back. He frowned as he glanced at the sliced bridge of his nose. A cold pain spread across his face. Using the last of his Stigma to heal the wound, he wiped away the blood and glared at Myungwol.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
No answer came. Myungwol simply sheathed his blade in silence. Yet even without words, Kyle understood exactly what was happening.
“Why so angry?”
Myungwol’s face was twisted beyond recognition, filled with pure rage.
Feeling the murderous intent prickling his skin, Kyle grinned and drew his sword.
“When we first met, things ended rather anticlimactically, didn’t they?”
Myungwol gripped his hilt without a word. Kyle did the same. In the next instant, the two masters collided.
A severed head rolling across the ground suddenly moved on its own, turning to stare at its body.
“Body, come here.”
It beckoned with one finger.
“…Such insolence.”
The head cursed at the body for daring to summon it, then rolled across the ground toward its torso. Once the two had successfully reunited, the figure adjusted its slightly crooked head and watched the battle between the two Aura Masters.
True to their title of Sword Saint, the clash looked like two stars colliding in the heavens. The sparkling aura scattering and reflecting through the air would make anyone think so.
“I want it…”
She began to covet. She wanted the Aura Blade those Aura Masters were emitting—the brilliance of those shining blades. To obtain them, she would need their physical bodies. That would only be possible if one completely dominated the other and then collapsed, powerless before her. Realistically, it was impossible. If she possessed the strength to overwhelm an Aura Master of such caliber, she wouldn’t need to borrow power to incite them against each other. She could simply charge in, crush both, and claim her prize.
Can’t be helped.
Though the desire gnawed at her, greed was not her domain. She should not interfere in another’s territory. With that thought, she continued watching the fierce battle, content to let either one emerge victorious. It was a spectacle even the Emperor of the Empire would rarely witness.