The Deepest Prison (9)

The job I ran in Kisangani was simple on paper: recover every computer left inside a single building stranded out in the remote north.

Who the client was, why they were so desperate to drag those desktops out, what data sat inside them — I didn't know then, and I never needed to. A mercenary is nothing but a tool. In that sense I carried no grand vendetta, no smoldering grudge, for the men who died beside me on that contract. A mercenary is a professional fighter paid to wage war and take the high-risk work. Dying on a battlefield is simply how the trade goes.

But—

Even after the mission failed, those bastards kept hunting me.

It hadn't been collateral from a firefight. They combed the Kisangani jungle for two solid weeks with one clear purpose: to cut my throat. That wasn't mercenary against mercenary. They had treated my existence as evidence that needed erasing. And that changed everything. The moment my life was written into the contract, it stopped being business.

So I finally get to see the face.

The voice on the radio back then had poured out fluent French, but the General standing in front of me now looked American. The surest tell was the English that slipped out of his mouth. Europeans reach for super when they want emphasis. Americans, out of habit, reach for a different word.

"Awesome. Didn't think Liang Wei would die that empty."

Awesome. He had said it straight to me. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Proof enough that he was American.

I'll have Geon-wook ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠look into him later.

I drew a long breath. Personal feelings ended there. Right now I had a match in front of me.

"Well then. Let's see the hands that wiped Liang Wei off the board."

General eased the distance closed, sword loose in his grip. I was grateful for that leisure more than anything. The more he looked down on me, the better my odds of walking away.

Then his outline smeared — and a metallic shriek tore at my eardrums.

Kraaang!

The impact landed heavy, and my fingers went numb around the hilt.

"...!"

My eyes flew wide. A heartbeat ago he had been strolling in. In the next fraction of a second he had thrown physics aside and driven in under my chin. Horrifying speed. And this impossible strength—

This bastard. He's a mana user.

Only then did I understand where the composure came from. Threads of white light rippled over General's body. Not on the level of the knight I had fought my way past leaving Lasgrid, but a mana user was still a mana user. In the shape I was in, he was more than I could carry.

Clang!

His sword came down on my head again, a heavy vertical blow. I barely caught it by laying Baltstein flat, and one knee folded with a scream.

"..."

A thin groan leaked between my lips. The jolt of my knee hitting the ground raked through the pain in my side. This would not do. One exchange was enough to know it for certain: fighting a mana user was no different from throwing an egg at a boulder.

This isn't a gap technique can close.

Kraaang!

I deflected his blade and ripped the distance open. My grip must have split — dark blood pattered off the hilt. Nothing came to mind that could answer him. There was no chance this one was ignorant of jiu-jitsu the way that knight had been.

No. One method did occur to me. I had to sheathe my own body in those white lines, the same as him. Against power that broke common sense, the only answer was to meet it with the same power.

But—

How in the hell does he handle mana?

Every time he moved, the white lines bunched or scattered at a chosen point and multiplied his strength. It wasn't muscle. It rose out of the deep interior of him, the way blood runs through a vein.

Clang!

The blades met again, and this time his lower body answered first. The instant he kicked off the ground, the white lines flooded his thighs and calves, then climbed his spine into his shoulder, his arm, his sword, smooth as water.

"This is all? I had some hopes up after you killed Liang Wei. What a letdown."

General flicked his sword clear and sneered at his ease. I didn't answer. I didn't have the breath to open my mouth. Every nerve I owned was locked on the white lines wavering over his body.

There's a trigger that draws that out. There has to be.

I had been drawing those white lines in for a long time, and because of it a knot no bigger than a little fingernail sat in my gut. How to wake that scrap, how to pull it out of my body and use it — I had no idea.

Clang!

His edge kissed the air under my chin. In the instant he drove off the ground, a line born in General's abdomen surged up through him.

"...!"

And I saw it. A fraction before the lines shot out into his limbs, the flesh low on his abdomen tightened by a hair and gave off light.

What?

It wasn't muscular force. He was breathing the mana stored inside him out into use.

Ssk—

My mind, sunk in the watching, was flung back into the world on the wet sound of parting flesh. A beat later, savage pain flooded my left shoulder.

"Nerves gone, or have you already quit? Either way, disappointing."

General clicked his tongue and shook his head. Sure the last blow had settled it, open scorn sat in his eyes. I staggered back. Blood ran down my shoulder and darkened the dirt, but my gaze never left him.

That was it.

That short breath he had just shown me. He wasn't hauling air deep and locking it away. He was using breath like a brush, painting the mana knotted in his gut across his whole body. The principle was simple. Fold breath into the fragment in my belly, draw the same lines he had drawn, and pull it out.

I gave ground and settled my breathing. On the exhale, I sent the fragment's energy out with it.

Hwaaa—

A chill tore up my spine. The small piece that had lain quiet inside me broke apart on the wave of breath and spread toward my right arm like mist.

Got it.

It was no torrent, not like his. But it moved at my will, and it was wrapping my arm.

Kraaang!

The swords met again. This time I was not simply driven back. The thin white line running through my arm seized every fiber and held it. His heavy blow traveled up the blade, and the mana-clad right arm took it like stone.

"...!"

General's eyes shook for the first time. From the arm he had been crushing without resistance, an impossible rebound exploded outward. Strength raw muscle could never make.

"How...?"

I curled my bloodied mouth and reset my grip on Baltstein. Using mana — that condition was even now. From here it was only a question of who cut the other down with cleaner precision.

Then I have him. Overwhelmingly.

For the first time since I had laid eyes on him, a faint smile touched my mouth. Because the white lines were not the only lines I could see.

Ssk—

I slipped his attack and took his left arm. One arm gone. We matched on that, at least.

Ssk—

This time red poured from his right flank.

"Th-this is insane..."

That was why the red lines were cheating. I could read the path of his attack before it arrived — where the opening would be, how far the distance. It was no different from holding the answer sheet. However he came at me, all my eyes saw was a red line being drawn at leisure.

Shhhk!

I tipped my head just enough to let the edge slide past, and his empty chest filled my vision. I drove Baltstein into the gap.

Thuk!

The jet-black blade punched through him and burst out his back.

"Ghk—"

General never finished the word. He died without ever understanding why not one of his attacks had landed, and the light drained out of his eyes.

"Hah..."

I let the breath out long. I had won. I had pushed too hard on too much lost blood, and my head was spinning. There was no time to savor it. The mission was not finished.

"Hah—hah—hah."

I limped hard through the brush. My torn shoulder and the wreck of my body screamed, and I clenched my teeth and bore it. I don't know how long I ran before Adrian's back showed in the distance, still fleeing, and a single shadow chasing it.

Viper.

The gap between them had not closed as badly as I feared. I wrung out what I had left and went after him. My body was ruined, but my part was only to buy the time Adrian needed to get inside Fel Grad alive.

At last, as if he had felt me dogging his heels, Viper stopped and turned his head. A thick smile settled on his mouth.

"...?"

Something about that smile turned my blood cold. I was frowning under the mask when—

Thuk!

My body pitched forward. What? What was—? The hand I planted on the ground shook hard. I looked down. A sharpened wooden stake had erupted from the earth, punched clean through the top of my foot, and jutted up past it. The vicious pain arrived a beat late.

Why is there a booby trap here...?

I couldn't make sense of it. Worse, something like a nerve toxin must have been smeared on the point — numbness born in the foot shot up my calf in an instant, and the fingertips braced on the dirt stiffened rigid.

A moment later, a familiar face came out of the brush.

"Heh heh. Caught you at last."

Viper. The one who had been running Adrian down. He had already dropped the chase, and he looked down at me with a cold, fishy smile.

I forced my mouth open.

"From the start... you were... after me?"

"That's right."

"Wh... why?"

"A hunter's worth is decided by the prey he takes."

A dry laugh escaped me before I could stop it. It was, without question, something a fine hunter would say.

I lost.

My vision smeared. I had bled too much from the left arm and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the back, and my stamina was gone. No — it would be truer to say there wasn't a sound place left on me. Then a strange sensation crept up.

So this is death.

Death... it came quieter, and slower, than I had thought. The feeling of being drawn down into an empty abyss. At first it had hurt enough to grind my teeth. Now only a vicious helplessness remained where the feeling had gone dull.

"Congratulations on a successful mission, friend."

In the blurring of my sight, Viper's voice struck my ear. I clung to the consciousness going out and forced my head up. Far off, Adrian's back was little more than a wavering silhouette. He had nearly reached Fel Grad's gate.

That was enough. I wrung out the last of my strength and wished him well.

Live happy.

I will... be happy too.

Ssk—

In that instant, my vision went black.