A Trump Card's Worth

Before my regression. That is to say, my past life.

Back when I had yet to ascend to the realm of a Sword Master.

Even back then, I was already renowned as a mercenary who excelled at hunting mages. I had claimed the heads of not only 6th-tier mages, but even a 7th-tier black mage.

When two combatants of the same tier and realm clash, experience is what decides the victor. This gap in experience is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠almost impossible to narrow. In a hundred out of a hundred battles, the one with more experience and better tactical wit will inevitably seize victory.

Then, what must one do when facing an opponent of a superior realm?

"What else? You use a trump card."

Shaking out my stinging hand, I looked down at the gloves I had received ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from Valen.

"Not bad."

The combination of the elemental rune Kenaz and the conceptual rune Isaz.

Condensed flame.

A compound Rune Magic unleashed at point-blank range.

But I hadn't stopped there. I had intentionally forced both runes into a state of overload. By making them collide, backflow, and invert, I maximized their destructive power.

I first conceived of this method back when I was training toward the 4th-tier in the underground workshop, thanks to something Sheryl had said to me.

That was where the inspiration came from.

Intentionally overloading Rune Magic, which already possessed outstanding destructive power. If it happens by mistake, it's an accident; if it's done on purpose, it's a technique.

Its power was truly formidable. Under normal circumstances, my own hand, which had triggered the explosion, wouldn't have escaped unscathed.

What had proven incredibly useful in that process was this very glove.

A leather glove crafted from the hide of a mythical beast, capable of almost perfectly blocking any offensive magic below the 5th-tier.

"...It's even stronger than I thought."

As a result of the blast, a massive crater now yawned before me.

Though the recoil of the massive explosion had pushed me back several paces, my body suffered no major strain aside from a slight ache in my wrist, thanks to the glove. If I hadn't been wearing it...

"I would have ended up like that."

Barg, who had taken the direct hit, was thrown all the way to the far wall of the cave, slumped in a heap. His entire body was drenched in blood, and his left arm, which had been holding his greatsword, was twisted at a grotesque angle.

It wouldn't have been surprising if someone caught in the dead center of such an explosion was reduced to a pulp. In fact, Barg was in relatively good shape considering.

"R-Raygan... You're alive, right?"

"Of course I'm alive, but don't come out just yet."

Replying to Brock, who was calling out cautiously from behind a pile of rubble, I walked toward the unconscious Barg.

Barg, you die here today.

I had absolutely no intention of letting him live. Barg was an unequivocal villain, both in my past life and in this one.

I had to seize this opportunity to cut off his breath once and for all.

I approached Barg and raised my sword to deliver the finishing blow. Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. I hastily threw my head back. The wind of a blade echoed past my ear, shearing off a few strands of my hair.

"Y-you bastard!"

"You really are persistent. I'm amazed you're still breathing."

Barg had opened his eyes at some point, his hand gripping his greatsword.

No, he must have regained consciousness a while ago. He had clearly been waiting for the moment I drew close. When his desperate gambit failed, Barg's face contorted in rage.

"So you managed to protect your body in that split second."

Just as aura is a basic skill for swordsmen, skilled warriors are fully capable of shrouding themselves in a barrier of mana to protect their bodies, using a similar principle.

Barg had wrapped himself in mana to shield his body in the brief instant the magic was cast. To be honest, I was impressed. It was a feat that Barg shouldn't have been capable of at this point in time. It was undeniable that he, too, belonged in the category of geniuses.

"Y-you bastard... I will... absolutely... tear you to shreds..."

Spewing curses, Barg struggled to his feet, but his posture was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unstable, and the hand holding his greatsword trembled violently. I let out a soft sigh.

"Of course."

Though he had barely managed to prevent a fatal wound, he clearly lacked the strength to cope with his internal injuries.

Thus, the fight that was about to unfold was less of a duel between swordsmen and more of a one-sided affair between a hunter and a cornered beast.

"Die!"

Barg swung his sword, channeling his aura. I didn't bother to dodge. Deflecting his blade with the Benheim heirloom sword in my right hand, I carved Kenaz onto my left palm and scattered it.

Flash!

"Ugh!"

The scattering sparks blinded him. Seizing the opening, I lunged forward and clashed blades, sliding my sword up the length of his greatsword.

Barg tightened his grip, determined not to lose his weapon, but that was a fatal mistake. His posture crumbled, and I slammed my shoulder into his exposed chest.

Barg fell flat on his backside. He summoned every last ounce of his strength to lift his left arm, which gripped the greatsword, but with his arm already broken, there was nothing more he could do.

"Aaaaargh!"

Consumed by rage, Barg tried to use his greatsword as a cane to push himself up, but lacking even the energy to stand, he collapsed back down.

"C-cough... pant..."

Wheezing heavily, Barg raised his head and looked at me.

For the first time, sheer terror was written in his eyes.

A wave of deep emotion washed over me. Barg, whom I had desperately yearned to kill in my past life, was now kneeling before me. He even wore an expression he had never shown before—the face of someone confronting the terror of death.

"W-wait..."

Before Barg could finish his sentence, my sword pierced his heart.

I had no way of knowing what his final words were meant to be.

It might have been a plea for mercy, a curse, or perhaps even atonement for the atrocities he had committed throughout his life.

Whichever it was, my response was already decided.

"Let's make sure we don't meet in the next life."

"...You guys can come out now."

At my words, the branch family members who had been hiding among the rubble and the captured children poked their heads out one by one.

For some reason, the way they looked at me was completely different from before.

"What is it?"

"N-no... It's just..."

Brock hesitated, his eyes darting to Barg's corpse slumped behind me. Did he think the corpse was going to stand back up and swing its sword again?

"Don't worry. He's dead for sure."

"Y-yeah, I know... I saw everything from back there. I saw you plunge your sword into him."

Only then did I realize that Brock wasn't staring at the corpse, but was actually walking on eggshells around me. The other branch family mages were doing the same.

As if looking at some incomprehensible entity, their eyes held a fear that went far beyond mere awe. Well, it made sense, considering they had just witnessed my fight with Barg.

"If you have the time to stand there acting nervous, you'd better get ready."

"G-get ready for what?"

"What do you think happens when the barrier shatters? Every single black mage in this den will come rushing at us."

Instead of waiting for Brock's reply, I turned around and approached the dark-red rock that Barg had been guarding.

A massive chunk of mana stone, vibrating as it pulsed with a dark-red light.

The barrier stone.

It was an object created by melting down dozens of ordinary mana stones, highly condensing them, and then engraving a special spell formula onto them.

It was a treasure that truly commanded whatever price the seller named.

During my days as a wandering mercenary, the barrier stone was always the very first piece of loot I claimed after wiping out a black mage den.

Securing just one of these meant I wouldn't have to worry about bar tabs for half a year.

Brings back memories.

I narrowed my eyes and peered into the depths of the barrier stone.

Normally, extracting or destroying a barrier stone required a specialized mana detector. Without one, you had to smash the entire massive rock to pieces and salvage the fragments.

But right now, I didn't need a detector. Nor did I need to smash the chunk of mana stone. The flow of mana was perfectly visible to my eyes. The vast amount of mana swirling inside the barrier stone, and the core where all those currents converged into a single point—that was none other than its weak spot.

I channeled my aura into the Benheim heirloom sword. Raising the blade, which now glowed with a blue light, I thrust it down without hesitation. There was no risk of missing. I had done this countless times before.

Crack.

The sword sank deep into the stone. The moment it struck the core, a sharp vibration traveled up my hand.

In the next instant, the rock dissolved away like melting ice, leaving a small, grooved gem hanging from the tip of my sword.

"Raygan... Is that... the barrier stone?"

"Yeah. With this, the barrier is down."

The air surrounding us shifted noticeably.

Well, given that we were in an abandoned mine, the difference wasn't earth-shattering, but it was there.

I ran my fingers over the barrier stone, feeling the corrupted mana radiating from within.

Then, a sudden thought struck me.

Could I... absorb this?

An ordinary mage would never even dream of absorbing the mana from a corrupted barrier stone. At best, they would end up crippled; at worst, their entire mana circuit would rupture, killing them instantly.

But that only applied to those with standard mana cores.

I was different. I possessed two entirely separate mana cores divided by a barrier—a concept conceived by Lunia in my past life.

If I used one core to purify the corruption while continuously circulating my internal mana through the other, it wouldn't be impossible to convert the corrupted mana into pure energy and absorb it without destroying my body.

It's worth a try later.

It was out of the question right now, but it was definitely worth researching.

I tucked the red core into my breast pocket.

Ruuuumble.

Immediately after, a deafening roar echoed from the direction of the passage we had collapsed on our way in.

Boom!

Rocks and debris were blown outward amidst a cloud of dust.

Bursting through the cleared passage were black mages clad in dark robes. They had clearly rushed over the moment they sensed the barrier collapse.

"They sure took their sweet time, the idiots."

It was utterly laughable to see them rushing in only after the barrier had already been shattered.

"Y-you rats! Where did you intruders come from?!"

The black mage at the front shrieked in fury.

There were twenty of them in total.

The one who appeared to be their leader was, at best, a 5th-tier. It was just as Carius had said—the black mages currently stationed here were all greenhorns.

"So, you want to go a round?"

I rested the flat of my blade against my shoulder and beckoned them with a finger.

It was an blatant provocation, yet the black mages hesitated to charge. I quickly realized why. Their eyes were glued to the gruesome corpse of Barg slumped behind me.

The powerful guard they had trusted implicitly—the self-proclaimed 'Mercenary King' Barg—lay dead in a horrific state. The shock of this sight struck the black mages with a terror far greater than what the branch family members had felt.

"...B-Barg is dead?"

"No way! By a mere brat?!"

"No... To call him a brat... his realm is..."

The leading black mage grimaced, seemingly realizing that I had already crossed the threshold of the 4th-tier.

Fear is highly contagious. The black mages faltered and began to take steps back.

Unable to watch any longer, the 5th-tier black mage waved his staff and roared.

"What are you doing?! They're just kids! Barg must have been caught off guard! Capture them at once!"

Spurred by his commanding shout, the black mages hesitantly began to reform their ranks.

One of the black mages thrust out his hand and cast a spell. A sphere of dark mana hurtled silently toward me.

I could have dodged, but I chose not to.

Taking a step forward, I swung my sword. The slash cut through the air, slicing the mana sphere in half like tofu and dispersing it into nothingness.

"...Huh?"

Someone let out a dumbfounded gasp.

They couldn't seem to accept the fact that a black magic spell—one carrying the power of at least the 3rd-tier—had been effortlessly neutralized by a single sword that wasn't even shrouded in aura.

I walked forward slowly, standing alone before the black mages. Then, I raised my sword and drew a line in the dirt.

"From this moment on, if any of you takes a single step across this line, you'll end up just like that mercenary behind me."

Of course, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was a bluff.

I didn't have the luxury of taking on that many opponents all at once.

But I wasn't alone. I had the branch family mages with me.

And above all...

Ruuuumble—Crash!

The ceiling caved in, raining massive boulders down onto the heads of the black mages.

"Aaargh!"

Screams erupted as their formation shattered.

Light poured in through the newly opened gap in the ceiling.

Backlit by the glow, dozens of figures leaped down. There was no hard impact; magic had softened the pull of gravity, gently catching them by the shoulders.

Landing gracefully on the cavern floor, Valen Wyrd von Benheim grinned so widely his eyes crinkled.

"Am I late?"

"You're right on time, sir."