Conceit (Revised)
Conceit (Revised)
The blood fiend hurtled toward Ian.
His speed was so overwhelming that the naked eye could barely follow. Ian could only raise Lunar—now transformed into a shield—on pure instinct.
—Claaang!
He barely managed to block the blood fiend's strike.
But the part of Lunar that touched the fiend's blade blackened and crumbled. The charged lunar energy had been consumed, and the portion of Lunar that made direct contact with the sword simply disintegrated.
"...Hoh. A curious mineral."
The blood fiend's sword was in the same state.
Black blood oozed from the veins writhing along the blade, staining half of it pitch-dark.
"As expected, my eye never fails me. Entertaining."
The blood fiend drew his own blade across his opposite wrist.
—Slosh. Slosh.
The blood-sword drank deep and regained its original crimson hue.
'What a monster.'
Ian let out an inward sigh.
He wasn't even human, and his sword could restore itself autonomously. Apparently, it wasn't just the Blood Rock Sect's members who were unhinged—their weapons were equally abnormal.
The blood-sword greedily devoured the blood and began to merge with the fiend's arm. Thick veins erupted from the blade and burrowed directly into his flesh.
"Hah... There it is. That sensation."
The blood fiend looked satisfied. No—downright exhilarated. Grinning, utterly indifferent to the drool spilling from his lips, he launched himself off the ground.
Another devastating blow.
"Guh—!"
A harsh groan tore from Ian's throat.
Even though he'd blocked with his reinforced forearm, his entire body throbbed with numbness. Blood trickled down his arm and dripped onto the floor.
"Unusual. An alchemist? Your fighting style is quite amusing."
The blood fiend praised him with what sounded like genuine satisfaction.
Mages, knights—most fought with standardized magic. Anyone who could handle the fire element relied on mindless offensive spells. Water element meant support, and so on. Predictable magic at predictable timings. After dozens upon dozens of battles, it grew wearisome.
But this one was interesting. Enough to make him want to play a little longer.
Ian, hearing this, felt mildly conflicted.
'Was that a compliment?'
The first person to ever praise him in live combat was a blood-crazed Blood Rock Sect lunatic. He decided to take it as high praise.
He didn't have time for idle thoughts.
Compliments like that came when the blood fiend believed he held the upper hand—which meant he was letting his guard down.
'Now's the chance.'
Ian gave Danya a small signal with his index finger, subtle enough to escape the blood fiend's notice.
—Fwing!
A grass-element arrow shot from behind and streaked toward the blood fiend.
"Pathetic."
He deflected it with a casual swing of his sword.
But that wasn't the end.
"Gather."
Danya chanted the spell rapidly.
A multitude of arrows materialized around her.
Ever since taking the elixir Ian had given her, Danya's mana reserves had increased substantially.
That wasn't the only change. A beastkin mage's greatest weakness was their excessive elemental sensitivity—they resonated even with elements they didn't need, generating noise.
But because Ian had occasionally used <Extract> and <Absorb> to aid her growth, that weakness was steadily transforming into Danya's greatest strength.
The grass-element arrows multiplied rapidly.
This was impossible without a considerable level of elemental sensitivity and control.
"...!"
The blood fiend observed Danya's magic with curious eyes.
Not that he was foolish enough to stand idle while his opponent cast offensive spells.
He simply had absolute confidence that he could block any attack.
A student—and a beastkin at that—could wield magic of this caliber? Even for a Lichten Academy student, it was astonishing. Among the Blood Rock Sect, only those who had drained the vitality of dozens of others could pull off such a feat.
"Not quite the alchemist's equal, but you're entertaining too, girl. Fire away."
Shnk!
Shnk-shnk-shnk!
The arrows clustered around Danya shot toward the blood fiend.
Every time her tail and ears shifted direction, the arrows changed speed and trajectory.
The sight of projectiles filling the air was spectacular.
—Clash! Clang! Clatter!
Naturally, the blood fiend laughed as he swatted them aside.
—Thunk!
One arrow slipped past and lodged in his back, but he paid it little mind.
A scratch like this was nothing.
"Now—"
The blood fiend began to sneer, but then—
"!!!"
Ian was already right in front of him.
Had he hidden behind the arrows to close the distance?
For the first time, the blood fiend's sense of control—his certainty that he dominated every facet of this space—cracked.
"A fine attempt. But that's all it is."
Ian lunged forward, his upper body sheathed in metal, fist driving in.
To the blood fiend, Ian's movement looked like an excruciatingly slow motion. The gap in skill and experience.
It was painfully obvious that Ian's lower body was woefully unguarded.
"Your inexperience shows. The foundation lies in the legs."
The blood fiend's sword swept bluntly toward Ian's ankle.
"Normally, I would have severed it. Thank the Seventh Seat for my restraint."
—Whoosh!
"Hm?"
The blood fiend froze.
He had expected the sensation of his opponent's ankle shattering. It never came.
What shocked him more was that he had lost track of the boy's movement entirely. The speed had been pathetic a moment ago—hadn't it?
"What—"
His shock lasted only a heartbeat.
—Shlunk.
The blood fiend looked down at his own chest.
A slender blade had pierced clean through his heart.
His gaze traveled up the length of that thin sword.
Floating in the air was a dark-haired boy.
A mocking smile curled on the boy's lips.
Only then did the blood fiend grasp what had happened.
"You exploited my carelessness."
"You could say that."
"You weren't fast. You just moved behind the arrows."
"Right."
"The reason I lost track of you at the end—it's only because I've never seen or heard of that levitation ability before. What kind of power is it?"
"Who knows. I haven't named it yet."
"Entertaining. You exploited the one blind spot in decades of combat experience. My spatial awareness—everything I'd built—crumbled. That kind of vertical movement, with no warning at all."
The blood fiend let out a dry laugh.
It was an unnervingly relaxed laugh for a man whose heart had just been run through.
"But... was that truly your all-or-nothing strike? If so—forgive my saying this—it's underwhelming. A grand beginning and a pathetic end, I suppose. You seem to lack understanding of the Blood Rock Sect. We don't die from something like this. To think this was your final blow. Disappointing."
Ian matched his gaze and grinned.
"Who said it was the final blow?"
Authority: Cleanse.
Through repeated use of his Authority, Ian had noticed a particular trait: no matter how sharp the opponent's senses, they could not perceive the Authority's power at work.
All this idle chatter with the blood fiend had served a single purpose—buying enough time to gather the Authority needed to purify him.
"You're way too obsessed with posturing. Probably because everything you've built came too easily. You got strong just by draining other people's vitality and power."
"What?"
He'd deliberately spoken words of contempt. While the blood fiend paused to parse the insult—
Ian channeled Authority directly through the thin sword lodged in the fiend's heart. This was the same blade that had withstood Sharon's frost mana. Conducting the Authority into the fiend's body was trivial.
The blood fiend's pupils dilated in an instant, and he tried to recoil—
But it was already too late.
"Gaaaaaahhh!"
The blood fiend convulsed.
His entire body curled inward and twisted.
"Guhk... Guhk... You—you baaaaastard!"
He tried to swing his sword, but—
—Clatter.
The blade fell to the ground before it could reach Ian.
His blood-red hair, his crimson eyes—even his skin—
All of it blackened and began to rot at a terrifying speed.
Perhaps he had never truly been clean to begin with.
He had simply violated the natural principle that a human body should contain only its own life force.
"...No. No. Just a little more... I could have reached it..."
The blood fiend's jaw, now blackened to the bone, crumbled away, and he was gone.
"Haaah."
Ian wiped the sweat from his brow.
The arm he'd injured while blocking the blood fiend's earlier strike still throbbed. But there was no time for treatment.
"Hoh. Impressive. He was a reasonably useful mad dog. Pfft-heheh."
Yulan Altisichi grinned at him with gleaming yellow eyes.
The man still had his fangs buried in the Imperial Princess's pale white throat, drinking her blood in deep gulps.
"Mmm. You know what? Must be that noble bloodline—bitter and savory. Delicious. Her vitality's extraordinary too. This Imperial Princess... her power must have been something else. Wow. If I drain her dry, I might..."
Yulan's eyes curved like crescent moons.
"...I might even ascend to the Thirteen Seats of the Order. Hah. Would I get an audience? Did I ever tell you about my dream? I've always wanted to become the Blood Rock Cult Leader someday. Hahahaha."
The Thirteen Seats of the Blood Rock Sect.
The title and number bestowed upon the sect's thirteen strongest members.
Those who held those numbers earned the right to inherit the position of Cult Leader.
In other words, Yulan was utterly certain that the Imperial Princess Asteria's life force was worth that much.
Ian approached Yulan without a word.
At about ten paces, a translucent barrier halted his steps.
"You think you can? Do I look as stupid as that blood hound? Kahahaha! You're not breaking through it. Anti-Magic and Anti-Physical barrier, you little shit!"
Yulan burst into uproarious laughter.
"Sit back and enjoy watching me digest this one! I'll play nice with you when I'm done."
Yulan radiated confidence.
He had every right to.
His Counter-Principle Force Field.
In Fanta X Aca, it was infamous as an "unbreakable" skill.
Ian swung his reinforced fist.
—Bwoom!
It bounced straight back.
Magic or physical laws—both were useless against this barrier.
"Mmmm. So sweet."
Yulan, with his overwhelming barrier fully deployed, gulped down the player's character right in front of them.
He was the trauma of every single Fanta X Aca player.
"Frustrating, isn't it? But there's nothing you can do from out there! What could you possibly do? What can you do outside my force field, huh?! Gahahaha!"
That was, until Ian—a veteran player—had found the barrier's counter.
Ian stopped in front of the barrier.
His expression was blank.
Oddly, Yulan felt an inexplicable chill.
"...What are you planning?"
Ian swung the bouquet of flowers he'd brought against Yulan's barrier. Soil and petals clung to the translucent surface.
"Puhahahahahahahaha! Are you insane? I thought you had something prepared, but—flowers! A bouquet! Kahahaha!"
Laughter welled up in Yulan's eyes, which had widened with tension just moments before.
Ian looked back at Yulan and smiled.
"You're fucked, you bastard."
An arrow shot by Danya flew in and embedded itself in the barrier.
Green light engulfed the surroundings.
