Blade of White, Blood of Ice
Wait, it wasn't this bad before, was it? I'm not the type who enjoys fighting.
Neither in my previous life nor in this one.
But I didn't hate fights themselves.
There's a thrill in spectating. Betting on who'll win is fun, too.
Fights have this magnetic pull that draws every eye around.
And why am I rambling about this now…?
Because, literally, every gaze was locked on me and that black mist.
Especially on me.
It was only natural. The black magic beast was the attacker, the monster; I was the victim, the human.
Of course the human crowd would watch me.
Maybe that's why… the fight was starting to feel a bit enjoyable.
Not that I'd grab some random passerby and pick a brawl, of course.
That'd be barbaric, ruin the image I've built, and above all, lack any emotional punch.
To truly captivate attention, visuals matter, but you need a narrative too.
Two pretty girls scrapping is just a catfight; if their families are blood enemies, it becomes a duel for honor.
People are drawn more to the girl resisting inescapable fate than some bully picking fights.
The latter? That's me, by the way.
Right now, anyway.
Locked in a one-on-one deathmatch with an unstoppable magic beast.
"Now!"
Though calling it one-on-one was a stretch, with all these backups.
As the assassin beast materialized again, I shouted the cue. Ern, Yeon, and Reinhardt swung in unison.
Their aura-infused blades slashed vertically toward its maw. Blood sprayed from its body once more, dissolving back into black mist.
"…Doesn't feel like we're cutting deep enough."
Yeon shook the black blood from her single-edged sword, irritation clear in her voice.
"It reverts to mist before the blade bites deep. Annoying. At this rate, we'll tire out first."
Even amid the chaos, Reinhardt analyzed coolly, his eyes flicking to me.
"Ilisha, you okay?!"
Ern was more direct, checking on me outright.
"Yes! I can swing this thing a lot longer!"
As for my condition? Well.
I felt weirdly fine—even to me, mid-swing.
Normally, this much action would've left me winded, or with needle-like stings inside my arm.
Now? Just a chill like frost on my skin. No real hindrance to moving.
My breath turning white? Business as usual.
"Good to hear. But don't push too hard, Ilisha. If you go down, we're done."
"Haha, then I'll drop it first, right?"
Ern and Reinhardt, who knew better, eyed me anxiously.
That fretful gaze made me burst out laughing before I could stop myself.
I played it off as forced nonchalance, but…
Ah, yes.
Nothing beats genuinely stirring someone's heart.
Especially if it's someone dear.
I worried I seemed too flippant, but oh well.
The assassin beast wasn't much without its mist trick. Not Sword Master level; regular aura wounded it, and it wasn't blisteringly fast.
If I spat blood and unleashed an Aura Blade the instant it solidified, it'd be bisected and done.
So why drag it out?
Because their reactions were too fun.
I was just toying a bit longer.
Once my body acted up, I'd finish it. Easy.
Charge, nick. Charge, nick.
How many cycles?
I was finally getting winded.
The beast, too—death closing in? Its stance wobbled, form flickering unstable.
This was the last clash. Instinct screamed it.
Time to play our trump cards.
The assassin steadied, then lunged in bizarre arcs: kicking off the floor to the ceiling, wall-running, dropping low, twisting midair.
Maxing its modest speed with tricks, body contorting wildly.
Too bad I saw it all.
Still, that effort deserved a proper response.
"Haaa…"
Deep breath. Ether surged into my sheath.
The blooming aura flared wildly, then—crossing a threshold—sucked back in.
Blue shifted to pure white, blazing dazzlingly.
Aura Blade manifested.
Every eye snapped to my sword. Ern, Reinhardt, Yeon, the beast.
Even the students still loitering in the Swordsmanship Hall, ignoring orders to leave, watching our duel.
All converging on one point. Felt it.
Not their first Aura Blade. Why the fuss?
I smirked inwardly.
It worked.
Thought I'd fail recreating it without grasping the imagery.
Maybe the "heart-image" was just my usual mindset.
Not important now.
The beast hesitated in panic, then charged my blade.
I drew and cleaved vertically.
Done.
Dead while solid, its corpse tumbled across the floor, innards spilling.
Janitors would clean up.
One swing through the air shook off the blood; sheathed it. Crowd surged in like they'd been waiting.
Delegating a magic beast to students? Academy's a joke.
"It's over."
Reinhardt looked incredulous; Ern eyed me worriedly.
Yeon? Eyes sparkling literally.
"…What were you thinking, drawing an Aura Blade?"
Reinhardt pointed at ceiling and walls—what I'd done.
"Why? I controlled the power… uh… hmm."
My swing's path had split ceiling and walls.
"…Outside's fine, right?"
"Guess we'll see."
What if some blind swing sliced someone?
No way, right?
Realization hit; my inflated ego deflated instantly.
A death would've been disaster.
Sweat poured now, absent even mid-fight.
"…We can only pray everyone's safe. More importantly, Ilisha—how's your body? Really okay? You didn't need to go that far…"
"It's… better than I thought?"
"Better?"
"Yeah. Not super painful, no dizziness. Does swinging a sword really get easier with practice?"
Before, Aura Blade would've meant instant blood-vomit. Now? Eerily mild backlash.
Less ether tearing meridians, less pain summoning aura.
Oh. Could it be?
I'd actually improved?
Swinging more often was the key?
Like training in poison sand—pushing limits.
Maybe that's what I needed.
I grinned inwardly—
"Cough."
A cough. Whatever, happens.
Then—
"Gack… hack… keh!"
Blood gushed.
Not just blood—red crystals mixed in.
They clattered on the floor; took a sec to process.
Why were blood-red crystals coming from me?
Dazed, I touched my mouth. Blood.
…Or blood shaped like eyes.
"Wha…?"
Vision tilted.
Why?
Fine seconds ago?
Ah, delayed bill?
Makes sense—Aura Blade has costs.
Yeah.
Tried steadying. Failed.
Legs ignored me. Not weak—numb. Like borrowed limbs.
One knee buckled; I braced with my sword like a cane.
Vision shook.
Every breath stabbed my lungs with a thousand needles.
Out-breath colder than in—like a living cooler.
This was bad. Really bad.
"Ilisha?! Hey, hey!"
Ern's voice.
Looked—three wavy Erns.
"Weird… I was… totally fine… just now…"
Words cut off; more blood erupted.
What?
What's happening to my body?
Couldn't see their faces.
Voices muffled.
Felt arms hoisting me.
Where to?
Temple, duh.
Ern piggybacked me, sprinting there.
Reinhardt and Yeon yelling behind—garbled.
Head foggy. Brain freezing.
Finally sensed it: something growing inside.
Ice?
Hmm.
Never like this before.
By Cecilia's arrival, I couldn't move on my own.
"Cecilia!"
Ern burst in, nearly kicking the door. She looked up, startled. Saw that much.
Not her expression.
Wanted to.
So badly.
But all I could do was cling to consciousness.
Heal me proper, and I'll savor every face you made.
For now, Cecilia… it hurts so much.
…Painkiller? Couldn't voice it. Open mouth, more blood.