Black Knight Kalt (2)
The beast that swallows the Order’s plans.
The devil that births variables.
The human who never appears in the prophecies.
The one destined to become this world’s sun, its sole god, and the master of the end.
An existence even Lilith failed to observe.
That beast, burdened with such splendid titles…
was endlessly weak.
Contrary to the Order’s fears, it was weaker than the Challenger lying stretched out over there. The sword it swung with raw force was light; its swordsmanship monotonous. No techniques to speak of—only a blade that leaned entirely on sensation. I could cut it whenever I wished. I could kill it whenever I wished.
So I cut.
I split flesh. I shattered bone and tore open entrails. I flaunted overwhelming power. Without killing it, I forced it to watch the wretched ruin of its comrades right before its eyes. I crippled the Challenger that needed to die. I tortured the shrine maiden it held closest.
And yet—why?
Why does it not break? Why does it show no rage? Why does it refuse despair? Why does it rise again?
A chill crawls up my spine. An unknown fear lifts its head. My instincts scream to sever that thing’s neck at once. Yet my flesh refuses. My body will not move. Cold sweat traces a line down my back.
This is the second time I have felt this way since becoming a Master…
A hollow laugh escapes me. The first was also a little girl who wielded a greatsword, was it not? And now a second.
I reclaimed the shadows I had released into the air and wrapped them around my body. Steadying my breath, I watched the staggering girl. The legs that propped her from the ground creaked as though they would snap at any moment. The hand gripping the greatsword looked as if it clung on by leather alone. Blood still gushed without end from the wounds I had carved, and she spat crimson from internal injuries. At a glance, a state I could subdue with bare hands.
And yet I cannot approach. I cannot move rashly. That is not human strength. Nor is it the strength of a magical beast. It feels similar to the goddess’s blessing that is wasting my own body.
A moment later the beast rose fully, smiled, and charged. I swung to bat aside the oncoming greatsword.
Squelch—!
I failed to parry. I was cut.
“Huh.”
Blood burst from my torn chest. It was not similar to the goddess’s blessing. The opposite power. A loathsome force like a curse had ripped my chest open. A completely different, incomprehensible power crashed in.
I righted my stance and spread my Qi Sensing. Again the beast charged; I swung my sword.
Clang—
Blades met. It did not bounce away. It neither pushed nor slid. It simply pressed still and stared into my face. Eyes like abysses gazed at me. An expressionless face. Eyes that felt nothing at all looked upon me.
I swung and flung the thing away. Its blood-soaked body slammed into the earth. It rose. Staggered. Walked toward me again. Ran. Launched itself and charged. A slash from high to low. The motion was large. Openings everywhere. The right flank empty. I swung my shadow-wrapped sword into that space. With that power-first motion, with that heavy greatsword, it should never have been able to block. I saw the future of the beast’s body splitting cleanly in two.
Yet—
Crunch—slice—
It cut. My body was cut. An arm bent at an impossible angle; the greatsword carved across my lower back. It had broken its own arm. The red aura rippling over its body had broken the arm. A mad act only the insane would commit. The beast’s dark-red bone punched through its own flesh. Through the split skin my spine was laid bare.
I drove my knee up into the beast’s abdomen. The vivid sensation of ribs shattering transmitted cleanly. Blood it spat sprayed in every direction. I swung my sword as I was. Clang—once more it broke bone to block me.
“Mad.”
I flung the blade aside and opened distance. Shadows coiled around my lower back, clamping the wound shut. This time I would go. I took a step. In the span of a breath I stood before it. Swords met at once. Fierce repulsion shoved my blade back. I gripped with both hands, poured force and shadow into the steel, and pressed down. The beast’s right hand left the greatsword. The sudden loss of resistance pulled my body forward. My sword cleaved its left shoulder. Its fingers dug into my right eyeball.
And then a terrible aura bored into my skull. The red force flowing through those fingers rummaged through my mind. Pain as if my brain were being crushed. My body convulsed. Vision whirled; nausea surged.
“Kuaaah!”
I ripped the sword free of its shoulder and swung. The beast’s body twisted—twisted at an angle no human spine could survive. Because of that my blade cut only empty air. I kicked, shoved the thing away, and steadied my breath. The pain ebbed. Rising shadows replaced the ruined eye. Bleeding stopped.
The beast charged. I must not let it touch me. I must not allow the aura that disordered the mana inside me. I opened distance and parried every swing. Dozens, hundreds of exchanges followed. With each one its power grew. Its speed sharpened. Its momentum turned lethal. The red aura that had rippled now darkened, writhing with a will of its own. Dozens of tentacles lashed toward me—entangling, seizing, breaking. They rode the flow, bent, then extended again to open new wounds. They seeped into those wounds and disrupted everything. They birthed agony. They paralyzed reason.
The longer we fought, the more it grew. Stronger still. Conversely my body weakened. The red force tearing through my veins shredded vessels, paralyzed muscle, dulled sensation. It was devouring the mana within me.
I gathered every shadow wrapped around my body into the sword. Formed a point. Drew a line. Infinitely condensed shadow shot toward the beast’s maw. Yet, just as composed as before, it cut the attack apart. An opening appeared. I drove my blade into its abdomen, twisted, stirred, and tore free. A lump of meat that looked like entrails came with it.
At the same instant the beast seized my sword and opened its jaws. Teeth sank into my nape. My blade bit into its hand.
Crunch—
“Keueuk—!”
Dizzying pain crashed over me. I drove my elbow into its solar plexus. It did not fall. Again. Again. Continuously—until every rib was pulp, until sensation itself vanished—I hammered downward. And when half the flesh of my neck had been torn away, the beast finally dropped. It slammed into the ground. The limp body rose, spat out my flesh, and—
Giggling, it charged.
It parried my sword. Not the outward deflection it had shown until now, but an inward-drawing parry. My center of gravity tilted. Teeth sank into my shoulder. I struck back, swung, loosed shadows. The body cut by steel and crushed by darkness rose anyway, red aura holding it upright. It charged again. Bit. Slashed with the greatsword. Hundreds of times. Thousands. Dawn passed; the sun rose; still the beast did not stop.
Still it smiled. Smiled, painted head to toe in blood. Crawled on twisted limbs and smiled. Sealed its split belly and spilling entrails with red aura—and smiled. Smiled. Smiled. Smiled.
The sight was grotesque. Incomprehensible. I did not want to understand it. In the first place it was neither human nor beast nor anything at all. Looking at that form, I felt I myself might go mad.
Had I ever been driven this far into a corner since becoming a Master? No—I was no longer certain this even counted as a corner. If I swung, I felt I could sever its neck at any moment. Yet it was impossible. I did not know why. My blade clearly reached. It touched that body. But I could not kill it. I could cut—yet I could not end its life. As though the world’s own compulsion refused to permit that thing’s death. I simply could not kill it.
If more time passed my body would weaken further and that thing would grow stronger still. If I fled this place and waited for another chance, I might no longer be able to handle it. And if I simply gave up? The blessing lodged inside me would never leave me in peace. No other path remained. I would have to take the risk. This would be the second time…
Deliberation ended. I tore every last drop of mana from my body. Parrying the charging greatsword, I filled every vacated channel with shadow. From the beast’s corpse. From the magical beasts’ corpses. From the humans I had slain on the climb. From the floating remnants of Divine Power. From the blood that had turned the ground to mud. From within myself—twisting even my life force—I gathered the shadows. The rippling dark grew distinct, took form, and clung to my flesh. A violent wave erupted. The beast tumbled across the earth.
I stepped back and released my sword. The blade rose of its own accord and drove itself into my heart. Slowly it sank into my body. I opened my mouth. I wished. I yearned. I prayed.
“I desire power.”
One who has surpassed the realm of humans. One who has walked not the path of Reversal, but of Accordance with Heaven. The Authority usable only by a Master manifested.
Inside my skull a voice laced with mockery resonated.
“Ten years.”
The root of the world stirred. In that instant an indescribable power—Authority—flooded through me. I slowly raised my arm and swung.
The sky tore. The sun split. And the Black Sun revealed itself.