Chapter 56: Runaway
Volga swings his iron club. The wolf's ribs are crushed with a chilling whoosh, but there's no ti to let his guard down. An assassin springs from the saddle, aiming for his nape.
Kwaaak—
"Krrgh……."
The instant his instincts blare a fierce warning, Volga grabs the blade with his left hand, twisting its trajectory. Blood flows imdiately from his bare hand, but far more serious conditions abound.
His arms and shoulders have already lost sensation, and the blood and entrails of his enemies cover his entire body. As assassins and wolves press in relentlessly, he's gradually growing numb emotionally as well.
In a way, it's like a miniature battlefield. Killing, and killing again, endlessly repeating. Volga feels a strange self-loathing.
That was the madness of combat.
Krwaaaak!
As another wolf leaps forward with jaws agape, he grabs the club at both ends, taking a defensive stance. According to what he learned from his master Basim, there's no need for large, sweeping motions.
Crack!
The tip of the iron club strikes the wolf's skull, and the force of its charge converges in reverse at a single point. The skull crumbles instantly, and the massive beast collapses with a thud, utterly lifeless.
Breath wells up to his chin, but he doesn't exhale yet.
'One more.'
An assassin is charging from his left.
Tak, whiiiirl—
This ti he uses the opponent's forearm joint. Using the club as a link, he catches and locks the enemy's ans of attack, then spins his body and drives his left elbow up into the assassin's face.
Kwajik!
He'll be back on his feet soon enough, but for now, he's dealt with. However, when he finishes one enemy, the next approaches, and when he finishes that one, yet another cos.
[Sink him into the shadows!]
The mont four assassins rush at once, Volga instinctively realizes his fate has reached its end.
His Neural Accelerator reached its limit long ago, his eyes dyed red. His forearm muscles tremble finely. Naturally, none of the Mountain Rabbits have the capacity to help their comrade.
"……If I'd known it would co to this, I should have confessed my feelings properly."
In what might be his last mont.
He thinks not of family, not of comrades, but of one woman.
"Zahira……."
But this wasn't the place where he was ant to die—a roar and fierce beams of light surge in, drawing the assassins' attention.
Along with them, Royce and Adrian surrounded by dozens of enemies, and Ella reciting prayers. The eyes of every being in the clearing converge on one place.
The Forest Core was releasing trendous power.
Kwaaaaaaaa!
The light bursting from the Core wasn't re radiance. Thousands of light beams intertwined and writhed like a living, massive beast.
It was horrifying yet beautiful and magnificent. It swept across the ground like a serpent swimming on water's surface, and rippled overhead like a bird spreading its wings. Constantly changing form, it enveloped the entire battlefield.
All of it was mana.
Whiiiiiiii—
Soon, the beams of light pour down, tearing through the wind. Mountain Rabbits and those of noble status, assassins and wolves alike—all cease their movents. Not even breathing can be heard, as if ti itself has stopped. The hairs on arms and napes stand on end, and even the beasts sense danger, curling their tails and cowering.
It was because instinct rang out like mad.
Do not dare oppose it.
Fear and awe mingle before the overwhelming force crushing the battlefield. Hands gripping swords tremble faintly, and for the first ti, fear appears in the assassins' eyes.
This is the power of a Circulating Mage.
And then, the massive form of light writhes and turns direction. As if it had never lost its will, as if regaining intelligence, it rushes toward one person.
At this, Adrian Deconti suddenly mutters.
"Has fate arranged this? Though I feel the flow, I cannot foresee everything. Wandering a path where I cannot see even one step ahead, I eventually return to the predetermined order."
***
Calix extends his hand.
The mass of light crashes like a dazzling wave. Sotis surging with palpable weight as if possessing mass, other tis wrapping around his forearm and knotting like a ribbon.
Simultaneously, he feels the Forest Core collapsing.
The massive lump of mana overlaps with his heartbeat. His chest thuds, and sothing writhes beneath his skin. It was the mana of a Circulating Mage.
Shwaaaaak!
Neither cold nor hot, primordial energy wraps around Calix and flows in. It surges fiercely through his nerves from fingertips to toes.
His fingers tremble finely. He isn't absorbing the mana. Calix, his very existence, was being subrged in the massive mana.
[Warning! Neural Accelerator overload detected]
[Warning! Mana oversaturation state]
[Warning! Exceeding proper capacity. Entering danger threshold]
His vision fills with sharp ssages. The Neural Accelerator spews desperate warnings unlike any other ti.
But could he turn back now?
Thud—
His heart beats again. As the Core reaches complete collapse, fragnts of light turn to powder and move toward their new dwelling. The power of the Circulating Mage flows through his veins. The 'Divinity' couldn't even dare resist.
Now, he and the Core are no longer separate entities.
As the Neural Accelerator's warning sounds ring out like bizarre noise, Calix's Sixth Sense explosively expands. The cold air in the forest, the dew on the leaves, the hot stench of blood and the rank sll of beasts. He can feel everything in the space.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Of course, the price to be paid is also clear. He feels as if his body might burst at any mont. Pain like bones twisting rushes to his brain. Extre agony continues as muscle fibers tear apart finely and reconnect.
[User entering mana rampage state, risk of permanent nervous system damage.]
[Ergency stop recomnded!]
[Evacuate this location imdiately.]
'Still, I can endure it.'
[Body is collapsing.]
[Requires massive mana consumption.]
[Calculating temporary counterasure]
[Halting combat acceleration, adjusting basic output upward. Reality Acceleration '2.4'…'2.5'…'2.6'x]
'I have a purpose to achieve…… I accept it.'
This was his honor. The way of life Calix strives for. Though he couldn't achieve his dream of becoming a knight, his noble spirit was no less than one.
"……Calix."
At that mont, his eyes et Gregor's, standing nearby. Having regained his mories, he calls him by his full na instead of the title ‘cook comrade’.
"Iiit'sss fiiiine——."
But just briefly, the other's speech slurs clumsily.
Before he knows it, he's reached a point he's never reached before.
[Reality Acceleration, 2.7x achieved]
[Temporary counterasure complete]
[Additional output increase highly likely to accelerate physical collapse]
[Evacuate the battlefield imdiately]
From '2.6' output onward, one is classified as a Superior Knight. Gregor also falls into this category, emitting purple light, but the mont Calix reaches the figure of '2.7', a reversal occurs.
Tssssssss—
The old man looks at the young man's finely trembling body. Though he hasn't moved a single finger from his spot, afterimages remain. Moreover, because the power the Forest Core possessed was so imnse, residual mana circles around him in tangible form.
'His eyes are dyed red. Sothing's gone wrong.'
The veteran rcenary analyzes the current situation based on long experience. An indecipherable smile forms at the other's lips, but it doesn't seem like a good thing.
"You……."
Whooosh—
But before he can formulate a plan, the person in question turns and rushes out. Calix moved toward the middle of the battlefield.
Thud.
His heart writhes with each step.
Kwaaaaaaa!
Simultaneously, waves of light spread out with Calix at the center. As if lightning striking down, the mana inside his body swirls and expands exponentially. The Neural Accelerator continuously sends warnings, but he can't understand them.
Though only '0.3' output increased, it's different from before. The world distorts. This is a landscape that ordinary human eyes could never capture. Blade trajectories flow more slowly, and the sight of air distorting is vividly captured.
Reality…… Felt monotonous.
[Sink that one into the shadows! Let him bleed, erase his existence!]
Naturally, the assassins' reactions are also clearly visible. Each movent seems fixed like a sculpture, incredibly slow. Truly overwhelming speed.
Chwaak!
The first cut doesn't satisfy him. His movent is so fast, his senses can't keep up.
There won't be a second mistake.
He charges at the wolf in front, striking up at a pre-asured timing. This ti the rhythm matches. Severing the flesh and bone of the jaw, he brings the blade that went overhead down again.
Then suddenly, oversaturated mana gathers at the sword tip.
Tik, tik—
Tadak, hwaaaaaak!
Soon sparks spread across the entire blade, and flas made of mana burst forth explosively. The air twists, leaving an intense afterimage. The assassin on the wolf can't even scream before being split in half. Flas of mana continue burning at the cut section.
The threshold of Falling Fire.
However, it differs in nature from Gregor's or Royce's.
Their Falling Fire is refined fla. Beyond the realm of Wind's Scar, it precisely burns the enemy. One could describe it as a refined skill. On the other hand, Calix's Falling Fire isn't fla but close to an 'explosion'.
It was because he forcibly climbed up using incomplete power as a foothold.
Therefore…… All the better.
Calix kicks off the ground and sweeps through the battlefield.
Kwaaang! Shiiiiik—
With each step, the ground caves in deeply and dust scatters. With each swing of his blade, flas swirl with a roar as if the air is boiling.
Chwaaaak!
Soon, enemy flesh tears.
Kwajik!
Necks and forearms are severed in one stroke.
Pung! Thudududuk.
Torsos burst and split in two.
A divine realm that has truly cast off the human frawork. This is because there's no limit to mana. Though Royce or Adrian far surpass him in the body's inherent ability, limitless power backs him up no matter how much he uses.
Delicate technique wasn't necessary.
Just destroy.
Calix tramples the enemies without any control, faithful only to instinct. A smile forms at his lips without him knowing. Cold reason no longer remains.
Uwaaaaaaa!
"What…… Is that?"
Is it hope, or madness? The few remaining novices and mid-level rcenaries let out cheers, while veteran rcenaries hold small doubts about the incomprehensible scene.
However, though the enemies feel fear, they don't retreat to the end. The option of retreat never existed for them in the first place.
[The cursed being's power is stronger than expected. Tighten the encirclent!]
The assassins tear flesh like paper and leap without hesitation before the power that neutralizes regeneration. It's not simple madness. They have a purpose, a conviction they must absolutely achieve.
When Calix cuts down one, two throw themselves at him. When he cuts down two in one stroke, four more charge. In an instant, nearly a hundred comrades lie on the ground, but they gladly throw away their lives to achieve a specific goal.
"Calix! Stop!"
"That's…… Wrong."
And only Gregor and Royce realize the reason.
'If this continues, even if he wins, his body will collapse.'
Royce's lips turn deathly pale. Sure enough, the more Calix rampages, the more signs of his body breaking appear.
Kwadeuk!
The sound of muscles tearing is heard.
Puhwak!
A stream of blood from his mouth and nose shoots into the air. Before he can swallow the blood filling his mouth, dark red blood bursts forth explosively in succession. Crimson droplets fall on the blade. Each ti he coughs, sothing hot rises from deep in his lungs.
It couldn't be simple bleeding. Because it burst from within. Blood vessels, muscles, and neural networks, unable to withstand the internal pressure, were tearing. It was proof that his body was being shattered by excessive mana.
But Calix didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
Swinging his sword without thinking of mana depletion, he shoots burning sword strikes at enemies more than ten steps away. Continuously cutting down those who covet what's his, enemies are trying to take away the aning of his life. He even regards extre pain as pleasure.
At this, the fellow, called emotion, mischievously whispers to his weakened reason.
'This is the very mont we've been longing for.'
As soon as his body reaches its limit, his vision blurs. Calix encounters the trauma sleeping deep in the recesses of his mory.
Why does he resist?
Was there any worth in fighting while destroying himself?
For what purpose does he endure all this pain?
'Because I don't want to lose.'
What had he lost?
'Marquis Ashapel, and my beloved mother.'
Up to here, he thought it was spouting the obvious.
Calix dread of reuniting with his mother. Just as he held the dream of becoming a knight.
'No, that's not it. We don't want to beco a knight. The heart of not wanting to lose anything anymore, that's what's important. Rember the mont of parting from Mother. Being helplessly dragged to the Mana Stone mine…… That appearance then.'
'…….'
'I'm right, aren't I?'
Even trying to deny it, reality doesn't change. Because it was a conversation within his heart, the concept of lies didn't exist.
Calix clearly realized.
He didn't want to beco a knight. More fundantally, he wanted 'power'. Born a bastard and subjected to all kinds of contempt, having so little ant he didn't want to be robbed. Because each thing was so precious.
So such a thing would never happen again, he craves power stronger than anyone.
Pukwaaaang!
And at this mont, the power he yearned for is gripped in his hands. Though incomplete, unlimited Falling Fire sweeps through the space.
Therefore he cannot give up.
Because he's finally obtained what he wanted. Even if his body breaks, he intends to protect what's his.
[Warning! Physical durability exceeds limit]
[Continued use estimated 98% risk of physical collapse]
[Cease use and evacuate the battlefield imdiately]
Calix draws up mana again in his hazily transford vision. He has 'sixth sense'. He can kill even without seeing.
Just then, if a helping hand hadn't arrived, it would have been irreversible.
***
Whoooooo.
The wind rises abruptly. The stench of blood and the foul sll of burning flesh perating the battlefield are gently pushed away, carried on dust.
The Falling Fire Calix wielded also rapidly loses montum. The wind doesn't fight the flas but embraces them. As if guiding a path, it separates the clustered sparks, then divides them into several pieces and circulates them according to natural law.
Sussssss—
In succession, the entire forest rustles as if expressing welco. Thick branches wave their hands in tune with the faint wind, and grasses bow their heads in unison, following the direction from which the wind blows.
A movent as if welcoming soone and opening a path.
At this, everyone, regardless of enemy or ally, is seized by an unknown energy. It differs in nature from the mana they've experienced until now. It wasn't neutral and incomplete mana like the Forest Core, nor was it used violently like Calix's. It wasn't divine power or evil force either.
It simply held complete order.
[That power…… It can't be!]
The one leading the assassins reveals astonished emotion. The mont they recognize the other's identity, they try to order a retreat, but the subordinates, unaware of this, throw themselves forward.
Passss.
But they reach neither Calix nor any of the Mountain Rabbits. Mana carried on the wind wraps around ankles, forearms, and torsos. Grasping entire bodies, forcing movents to stop.
And at that mont, a figure wearing an ash-colored cloak crosses the middle of the battlefield.
As if the Mountain Rabbits and assassins don't exist, following the direction the wind indicates, the figure walks and places a hand on Calix's shoulder.
「Child, it's alright now. Your share of the fight is over.」
The voice brushing past his ear isn't a command but utter persuasion. The other's voice is gentle yet sharp, wise yet resolute.
Only then does Calix's mind clear. Though he regains judgnt, his body's senses are already paralyzed. His eyelids slowly close. Though consciousness is half gone, he instinctively turns his head seeking the voice's owner, but sees nothing.
"You pushed yourself too hard."
However, Calix can tell. Only one color fills his vision. A pure white, brilliant light. Instinctively, certainty fills him that all problems will be resolved.
"The Mountain Rabbits……."
"Shh, closing your eyes cos first now."
A gentle breeze blows again. The wind wraps around Calix's body. As if there's no longer any need to run, it soothes the resistant one with endlessly warm whispers.
At this, the reddened, bloodshot eyes close firmly, and the Core's mana begins to circulate toward the 'indicated' direction as if it had never rampaged within the body.
The Mage, Yelayen, has arrived.
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