The Meaning of Protection (7)
The Meaning of Protection (7)
The armor of ignorance and evasion had fallen away. In its place, a new armor—built from responsibility and resolve—had settled over him.
Origin.
The truest form Han Jae-jung was always meant to take.
A genuine form, freed from its degraded state.
A form of beginning, in which his origins and ideals had blossomed.
“Have you ever seen the stars?”
Though clearly unsettled by the destruction of his Heavenly Scales, Falling Chaos, Libra gave no outward sign of confusion.
“Ah... now that I think of it, you always did ask that.”
Logically, the number of stars sacrificed should have been the same—yet the power had been weaker, just as Han Jae-jung had said. Proof that he had yet to grow fully accustomed to controlling this copied body. Proof too that this form was less suited to actualizing his will than his original.
Even so, for Heavenly Scales, Falling Chaos to have been canceled out was unnatural. The light he had unleashed was the sort of overwhelming radiance that ought to have crushed a mere seven stars with ease.
What, then, had allowed two forces—forces that should have been worlds apart—to cancel each other out?
Libra was beginning to find this interesting.
And so, for once, he answered the question willingly.
“You asked if I have ever seen the stars? Then I will ask in return: is there any reason I should have?”
In the middle of a night swirling with fragments of gold and flame, two beings occupying the shells of monsters stood face to face.
“There are those who grumble that light pollution has made the stars impossible to see from the city. I cannot understand that sentiment. Must we kill the vitality of a city simply to glimpse a few faint lights? It is utter nonsense. What hangs over the sky is a necessary darkness. A righteous sacrifice that accompanies the illumination of this earth.”
Libra made his declaration with absolute conviction.
“There is no need to gaze upon the stars. Let the unreachable glories of heaven be offered up for the prosperity of this world.”
Those words alone were more than enough to grasp Libra’s nature.
“I see... I have heard you clearly.”
Han Jae-jung tapped the toe of his boot against the ground a couple of times, like a man settling into a new pair of shoes. His appearance had changed, yet it felt strangely comfortable. Stable.
This really was his original form, then. The power fit perfectly, without unease or awkwardness.
“As I thought, you and I will never understand each other.”
“That is a shame.”
The stars upon his scarf flickered. They began to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Not the flickering of lights about to go out, but the flickering of lights about to explode.
The circle over his heart—the starlight gathered there—spun wildly, like a circuit, at fixed intervals.
At the same moment, green lights like fireflies scattered from Han Jae-jung’s body. Power that his form could not contain, manifesting outward.
Libra, who had been watching silently, moved. The citizens who had been observing the standoff flinched. It was only natural. The golden giant—so vast it almost seemed harder to keep him out of sight than in it—had vanished in an instant.
It was the high-speed movement unique to those in a pseudo-divinity state, using high-output starlight as a boost.
Han Jae-jung reached for his Belt the instant Libra disappeared from view.
He turned the buckle as though adjusting the focus of a telescope.
[MEGREZ.]
As the rigid mechanical voice sounded, one star among the Big Dipper blazed brighter than the others. A single star upon the scarf flared with unusual intensity, while the circle inside his chest halted its rotation and radiated black light.
A form specialized for mobility.
He turned the buckle once more.
[ALIOTH.]
The flame form he had used only moments ago.
The voice rang out, and another star in the Big Dipper pattern on the Belt ignited, the corresponding star upon the scarf activating just the same. The circle near his heart spun, now spewing two lights at once: red and black.
He was using the abilities of two stars simultaneously.
Mobility and Flame.
Han Jae-jung held the Flame Nail—a rapier like a crimson spike—in a reverse grip. He gathered flames at its tip and discharged them. It was an acceleration method borrowed from Red Vega’s movement. A sudden launch akin to a jet’s thrust.
The speed was so violent that the eye could scarcely follow. Yet Megrez’s mobility-specialized power allowed him to perceive his surroundings even at that breakneck velocity.
As he tore through the wind, everything seemed slow. Embers and ash drifting leisurely like petals falling at a lazy pace. The gazes of people whose eyes could not track him. The magical girls still evacuating civilians. In an interval where time itself moved faster than ever, paradoxically, he could grasp it all.
His task remained unchanged.
Before the dust kicked up by his feet could settle, fist met blade. A punch aimed at Han Jae-jung’s chest was deflected off-course by the rapier angled obliquely to meet it.
Skr-gr-gr-grk!
Sparks flew violently as though cutting through steel, and the two were thrown apart by inertia.
This exchange made one thing obvious.
‘Speed-wise, Libra is still superior.’
Unlike Han Jae-jung, who had pushed his speed to the limit through a stroke of fortune, Libra could operate freely. For a moment, Han Jae-jung dampened the flames spewing from his blade and twisted his trajectory. As he turned his body the other way, compressed fire once again erupted from the rapier’s tip.
As soon as he reversed course, Libra’s fist was upon his face. Han Jae-jung snapped his arm into a diagonal angle. The flames now blasting toward the ground propelled the blade upward faster than ever.
Skrak!
Blade and fist crossed once more.
“You’ve grown stronger, but there’s clearly a limit to how far you can follow!”
Libra’s ridicule was biting.
“Aren’t these people complete strangers to you? Why aid them? They are connections that require nothing more than a moment’s inner pity before letting them pass. Why care so much? Do you think anyone will acknowledge you for this? Right now, you look like nothing more than a monster acting on a whim. No one will grant you recognition. No one will appreciate your noble efforts.”
Han Jae-jung was gradually being pushed back. In terms of sheer output, Libra still held the advantage.
“Even if you die here, no one will dress up your sacrifice as something grand.”
And yet, for some reason, it did not feel as though he was losing.
Libra surveyed the full extent of his opponent’s strength, something he had missed amidst the frantic pace of battle. Every one of the seven stars shone with the maximum brightness a monster could muster. A fearsome radiance. It even stirred within him a sense of aesthetic admiration. The emerald armor gleamed like a sun. Made all the more brilliant by the darkness surrounding it.
“What does any of that matter?”
No. It was more than that. The light of seven stars alone could not produce this degree of strength.
“Did it look to you like I was doing this out of a desire for recognition? Did it look like I wanted to be a hero? If I had truly wished for that, I would have revealed my face already. I’m actually fairly good-looking, you know. I’d have probably earned a lot of popularity.”
He no longer gave ground. The scarf containing the cosmos billowed.
“But I don’t need it. I have no desire to become a hero.”
Seven. More than seven.
“Could it be....”
The seven stars drew the Dipper. Behind them, tiny fragments of stars were linking together. Too faint to yet be called stars—but unmistakably, a cluster of light had spread out behind him.
“I have not acted to prolong an age of heroes. Countless heroes have already been born, and just as many have vanished.”
The Big Dipper is an asterism.
But at the same time, it is part of a greater constellation.
“He was still growing...!”
The star fragments he had collected defeating monsters were glowing. They settled into the still-vacant spaces of stars and shone.
This was, quite literally, a form of origin—of beginning. There remained ample room to grow.
Libra rejoiced. He no longer felt displeasure. A righteous madness radiated from this opponent now, just as it did from magical girls. The atmosphere of lunatics who did not hesitate to throw their lives away—that bright, brilliant light.
“I act only to protect the heroes. This is nothing more than arrogant self-satisfaction. I need no cheers. No gratitude.”
No matter how few they might be, the magical girls were still a collective. But here, a new minority ready to sacrifice itself had been born.
A single, solitary figure.
Not a collective. Because he wore a monster’s shape, no one would grieve for him. And yet his actions were righteous, benefiting the public good. And he himself did not hesitate to risk his life.
A perfect scapegoat stood ready.
“So, your words cannot shake me.”
Han Jae-jung planted his foot on Libra’s midsection and kicked him away.
Kwah-jik!
The sickening sound of steel being crushed rang out like a drum. But Libra merely stumbled backward. He did not fall.
“Yes, magnificent! But you will die here nonetheless! By my answer!!”
“Watch your side.”
Libra sensed intense heat surging from beside him. A crimson flame and a fist—sharper and clearer than his own fire.
“Evacuation complete! Red Vega has returned!!!”
One Path. Flame Roar.
The single path she had chosen, the howl erupting from flame.
A blaze surged over Libra, heaving like a sound wave. A flawless ambush. And its power had increased since before. The talent of a magical girl who grew stronger in real time was truly a magnificent thing.
Libra, unable to endure even that strike, was hurled far across the battlefield.
“Splendid.”
Han Jae-jung set his hand upon the Belt.
[SET. Seven-Star Step Kick (七星步脚).]
Seven steps, channeling the power of seven stars into a single kick—the most exceptional of all the finishing techniques he possessed.
And at the same time, the technique he had always used at its weakest.
The Belt imparted the fundamental method for every technique. The Seven-Star Step Kick was no exception. It correctly taught the way to manifest the technique, like a map pointing out the path.
Yet a map is only a reference. It does not guide every person to the correct destination. The real world is full of structures and alleys that no map records. A map merely provides the answer in its simplest, most abbreviated form.
Interpreting what it shows is the role of each individual.
Until yesterday, it had been impossible. He had simply followed the marked path as it was.
But the Han Jae-jung of this moment was capable of his own interpretation.
His heart pounded with exhilaration.
The first step went backward. A retreat, not an advance. A retreat in order to advance.
He filled it with fear.
Everything had begun from this fear. Without this fear, none of it held meaning. Why he feared right now. What he feared. What he feared losing.
That was not all. He feared his own power, too. A power that could so easily take another’s life. Was he using this power rightly, this very moment?
If you do not know your starting point, if you do not know its worth, then your actions have no worth.
Once he had reflected deeply enough, he had only to step forward.
The next step held resolve.
The resolve that had followed that fear. The resolve to take responsibility for whatever this act would bring. The resolve to change. The resolve to muster courage.
Kwah-deuk!
The ground sank, cratered where he placed his foot.
The next step held understanding.
Understanding of his own origins. Understanding of his ideals. Understanding of the direction of his power. Understanding of the technique itself.
His steps grew heavy. The weight of starlight was never light.
The next step held conviction.
He could not take back what he had already chosen. He could only trust it and move ahead.
But this starlight—all of it—had belonged to him from the very beginning. There was no need to make it feel difficult.
The next step held ease.
If he had shaken off the fear, steeled his resolve, understood his ideals, and placed full conviction in the path ahead—then why, truly, should he be anxious? Even on a darkened road at night, the star he set his sights upon would shine brightly.
His steps grew light. The gathered starlight began to form a ring. A beautiful green halo.
The next step held will.
The ring around his ankle swelled, growing ever larger.
A will to see the end of this road he had set upon. A will to make his ideals real. A will to carry out his task to perfect completion. A will never to surrender this dream.
Show your will.
A second ring carved itself atop the first.
Before he knew it, he stood before Libra. The final step.
What he poured into this step was the same as before. No number of repetitions could make this vow enough.
Show. Your. Will.
Kwah-deu-deu-deu-deuk!!!!
The earth split in the shape of the Big Dipper. Through the fissures, an aurora-like green light rose.
All of that light condensed, wrapping around his leg. He raised his leg high. The direction of the descending strike—Libra’s head.
Kwaang!
Libra had endured every attack up to this point. But this, he could not withstand. Flung far across the battlefield, Libra crashed to the ground and ceased to move. A massive explosion erupted from the point of his impact.
Beyond the detonation, the rigid mechanical voice still sounded.
[Seven-Star Step Kick (七星步脚) manifestation successful.]
He had already known the result.
[Replication rate: 100%.]