The Colossus Shatters
Stone Skin.
This magic hardened the skin, granting the user a toughness like solid rock. The intensity varied subtly with the caster’s level, but it was fundamentally better suited to defense than to any attack that relied on the ability itself. That left a clear limitation: offense had to come solely from the mage’s own martial skill or weapons.
And the method Begus—known as the Colossus—favored in battle was the bare-knuckle fighting he had mastered. Close the distance, then drive rock-hard fists forward with speed and force. That was how he maximized every strength he possessed.
“But there’s no need to punch through the defense.”
The defensive power itself was high enough that bullets simply failed to embed. Combined with the martial arts Begus had drilled into his body, that hardened frame packed real punch. Yet that was as far as it went. Strengthened fists might excel at blunt trauma, but they lacked the cutting edge needed to shear through something truly tough.
If I could not pierce Begus’s defense and deal meaningful damage, the next best option was simply to restrain him until he was no longer a threat. For that purpose I had prepared a tough net.
Sinel, who carried Haste magic, was faster than Begus. Even if her daggers could not inflict decisive wounds, she would never allow him a clean hit. With that speed, casting a net over him would not be especially difficult.
“……A dirty, underhanded method.”
The result of that plan stood before me now. Nets blanketed Begus’s thoroughly hardened body, and from inside the tangle he glared at me. He was thrashing, trying to tear the mesh with those rock-like fists. But a man short on raw firepower was never going to rip that net apart with bare punches—unless the Sword Saint standing behind me decided to help.
“You really caught him……”
“Why? Did you doubt me?”
“I only met you today. I figured the best you’d manage was helping corner him.”
The Sword Saint had accepted the contract on impulse, so her incomplete trust was only natural. Our agreement had been half coercion from the start. The scene in front of us was the first button that would fasten that contract shut.
I looked at Begus thrashing inside the net and asked her,
“So—what are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you wanted to finish him with your own hands.”
“Really… is that okay?”
“Of course. I also want to see what the rookie can do, so make it spectacular if you can.”
“Got it.”
Click.
The broken blade slid free of its mechanical scabbard. Raising the short sword, the Sword Saint walked toward Begus. Her power specialized in pure destructive force; leaving Sinel in the blast radius would be reckless.
“Sinel. Risk of collateral. Fall back.”
“Yes. Understood.”
At my order Sinel abandoned the net and retreated. Only Begus, still snared, and the Sword Saint facing him remained.
Begus regarded her with open distaste. At the same time he scraped his hardened fingers roughly along the cords, trying to saw them apart.
“The fraud who calls herself a swordsman is back.”
“Who are you calling a fraud?”
“What else do you call a warrior who doesn’t trust her own techniques and has no true will for the martial path?”
“What matters to someone walking the path of the sword isn’t the shape of the swing. It’s the meaning carried inside it.”
Wind began to spiral around the Sword Saint’s blade as she settled into stance. The air itself trembled; her eyes, locked on Begus, filled with something like resolve. She took one deliberate step forward to brace against the rising gale. Output pushed to its absolute limit made the broken sword shudder.
“Enough nonsense. Come to your senses. Your sword already broke against mine, didn’t it?”
“The true sword lives inside a person’s heart.”
“True sword?”
“To that sword in my heart I swore I would protect the name of the previous Sword Saint.”
“Previous Sword Saint……?”
“Even if the form has changed, as long as I carry that will forward… I am still the Sword Saint.”
The trembling tip of the blade went utterly still. A moment later her voice rang out, low and clear.
“Sword Saint Style—— Storm Dragon Ascension.”
A storm erupted from the broken sword and tore through the surroundings. She swung upward from below, launching Begus into the air. Caught in the gale’s path, his body—net and all—began to rise.
“Kueeeuk… no way……!”
“So the goal is to drop him.”
Inside the howling storm Begus clenched his teeth. He had understood the Sword Saint’s intent. Relying on defense alone was no longer possible. Whether from the conversation or sheer desperation, he had hardened himself past every previous limit; his skin had warped into something alien and grotesque.
“Sword Saint Style. Secret Technique———”
The repeated storms had lifted Begus quite high. Watching him, the Sword Saint slid her blade back into its scabbard. Click. Metal locked; the wind vanished. The moment the upward gale disappeared, Begus’s body began its fall toward the earth.
She gripped the sword again as she watched him descend.
“——Absolute Severance.”
Ka-gak. Ka-gak. Ka-gak. Ka-ga-ga-gak.
Razor winds sliced in sequence across Begus’s thick hide. True to a name that meant cutting the world itself, the Sword Saint’s strikes warped the light around them as they plunged down in brilliant arcs. One flash. Then another. Ignoring every attempt to guard vital points, the wind returned to places already carved open. The concentrated cuts gouged deep enough that the remaining durability looked doubtful at best.
“Sword Saint—have you no shame—!”
“Die now.”
Leaving Begus roaring at the ground, the Sword Saint turned and walked back toward me. The closer he fell, the faster his descent became. Struggle was already too late. In the final instant before impact Begus closed his eyes, sensing the end—
KWAANG!
—and shattered into fragments the moment he struck the earth.
“……”
One collision. Then the countless rock shards left in its wake. Of the man once called the Colossus, nothing remained but broken stone. The giant rock was gone.
I looked at the wreckage and let out a hollow laugh. For a mage whose entire specialty had been hardness, it was an almost absurdly empty end.
“He shattered.”
“He did.”
“I thought he was just some oddball, but he was stronger than I expected.”
“He was a mercenary recognized by the Cross Network.”
The Sword Saint had made her name there while still wearing the frame of a pure swordsman. Whatever else one might say, her skill alone could be trusted. I was quietly agreeing with Sinel when the Sword Saint, battle finished, approached.
Thud. Thud.
She sheathed the blade she had half-drawn and stopped in front of me. Brilliant gold eyes met mine through the fall of her hair.
“……How was it?”
“Excellent.”
“I see.”
I had assumed she wanted an evaluation as a newcomer, yet she still looked faintly unsatisfied. Simple praise was not enough for her. What words would land better? I thought back to what she had said in the middle of the fight.
“Excellent. Enough that it reminded me of the real Sword Saint.”
“The real Sword Saint……”
“Of course, you’re still a little ways off.”
“Y-yeah. Still far.”
“But if you keep refining it, you might reach that place.”
Only then did the Sword Saint smile, genuinely pleased. I had gained a colleague with whom I could be completely honest. From her side, that was probably no small relief either. Constantly performing just to remain the self she wanted to be could never be easy.
Only Sinel, standing beside me, wore a complicated expression. Without thinking I reached out and rested my hand on her head.
“……Boss?”
“Good work, Sinel.”
“I only threw the net.”
“It’s something only you can do.”
“Was it really something only I can do?”
“Yes. Protecting me, and landing a net on a moving target—both of those jobs fit you perfectly.”
I stroked her hair as I spoke. Complex mobility was another matter, but in pure speed almost no one in this city could match Sinel. The entire plan had been built from the start around her movement. It was not empty flattery.
“So there was a secret like that.”
“That’s the secret. Don’t worry too much.”
The soft texture of her hair brushed my fingertips. At last I had gathered two companions who would ride the rapids with me. The organization I intended to build still lay far ahead, yet already I felt steadier. People say there are no truly outstanding individuals everyone knows—but looking at these two, I thought they were more than good enough. Perfect people are not the only ones who can create perfect endings.
While my hand still ruffled her wind-tossed hair, Sinel looked up at me and spoke.
“……I need to get paid a lot.”