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Chapter 57: The Baydian Mountains (6)



“Krooooaak!”

The roar of the double-headed ogre pierced through the sound of rain, echoing through the mountain range. The ogre clenched its fists, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground. Ronan, who had dashed forward, grabbed the hilt of his sword.

“It should be easier than last time.”

Ronan rushed towards the right side of the Ogre and swung his sword. The sensation of the blade cutting through tough skin traveled through his fingertips.

At the same time, the Ogre’s fist swung downward where Ronan had been standing.

Thud!

The ground turned over as a chunk of earth flew up. The left head, a bit late to react, burst with a splash.

“Krooaaah!”

Indeed, Lamancha was a great sword. Its sharp edge was engraved on the Ogre’s thigh, a result quite different from the hundreds of sword swings required to land a single effective blow in his previous life.

“Damn.”

However, Ronan’s expression was far from joyful. The wound wasn’t deep enough, and the Ogre’s speed was too fast. After a few seconds, the bleeding stopped, and even the mud that had clung to the wound was washed away by the rain.

Then the Ogre’s kick came flying straight at him. Ronan rolled to dodge the attack. Before he could get up, a massive log fell from above.

“For fuck’s sake…”

It was too late to evade. Ronan swung his sword while still in a seated position. The log broke into pieces, revealing the startled expression on the Ogre’s face. Ronan, who had leapt forward, hung onto the tree trunk that the Ogre had in its hand.

“Groop!”

The Ogre released the log. Simultaneously, Ronan jumped up from the tree branch he had stepped on, driving Lamancha into the Ogre’s chest. Thump! About a third of the sword’s length penetrated deep into the flesh.

“Kraaak!”

The Ogre swung its other hand down as if trying to swat a mosquito. Ronan anticipated the move and leapt to the ground.

Thud!

His palm struck the hilt, and Lamancha was driven even deeper into the chest.

“Kraaaak!”

“Krooooaak!”

Painful screams echoed from both heads. Given the amount of blood, it seemed they were internally injured. Ronan, who had crawled up along the Ogre’s chest under its clothes, grabbed the hilt of his sword again.

This had to end now. Ronan pulled the hilt downwards, leaping towards the Ogre’s face. Lamancha was drawn out as if compelled.

Slash!

A red line appeared on the left head’s forehead, and blood and cerebral fluid spurted out. The right head, realizing its sibling’s death, opened its eyes wide and let out a scream.

“Kwaaak!”

“You should go with him.”

Slash!

A consecutive attack severed the right head’s throat. The sensation of the arteries and bones being cut was vivid.

Thud!

The Ogre’s massive body toppled backward. Ronan, who had landed, groaned.

“It would’ve been better if we fought when you were in your right mind.”

As the Ogre’s breath ceased, the mark on its chest that had been glowing slowly faded. Blood mixed with rainwater flowed down the slope.

It was a futile ending. Despite finishing the unfinished battle, Ronan didn’t feel any satisfaction. Leaving behind the remains of his old rival, Ronan continued down the mountain path.

As he neared the temple, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. Trees were broken or uprooted. The corpses of mountain beasts and Ogres were scattered everywhere.

Come to think of it, the Dragon’s Peak and the tumultuous mana were no longer visible. Finally, Ronan arrived at his destination and came to a halt in his tracks.

“…Damn.”

The ground was upturned, resembling the furrows of a plow. The forest that had surrounded the temple had transformed into uneven open space.

In the ruins that had been utterly destroyed, not even a single pillar remained, and the form of the temple was nowhere to be seen. Just as Ronan was about to take a step, the voices of a man and a woman cut through the sound of rain.

“H-how…”

“I told you. It’s about time you grow up a bit.”

It was the voices of Sarante and Brighia. Ronan quickly turned his head. In the midst of the ruins, Brighia stood in the rain. Sarante wasn’t visible, perhaps obscured by Brighia’s figure.

“Of course, that woman…!”

Ronan twisted his lips. He approached Brighia while concealing his presence as much as possible. Sarante’s voice could be heard again.

“What kind of… stunt did you pull?”

“I’ve told you before. It’s about time to grow up. If it weren’t for the blessing of the stars, I could have been in real danger.”

“Blessing of the stars… What a strange power…”

As he got closer, Brighia’s appearance became clearer. Ronan frowned at the gruesome wounds he saw.

Her left elbow was cleanly severed. Her clothes were almost torn to shreds, revealing a state close to being completely naked. From her missing right ear, which was more than half gone, blood was still dripping. Her condition was surprisingly severe for someone still standing.

“I didn’t know I would end up like this either. Even in this incomplete state, the power is this strong… I feel like I understand why the superiors use stars power’s to advance.”

Despite this, Brighia’s voice carried a sense of cheerfulness. Even a sense of relief that it had ended this way could be sensed.

But then, what happened to Sarante? Ronan narrowed the distance bit by bit and finally caught sight of Sarante.

He leaned against Seniel’s statue, taking deep breaths. His priestly attire, as well as both his ears, seemed intact, and at a glance, his condition appeared better than Brighia’s.

The problem was that his lower body was completely gone. A ridiculous amount of blood was gushing out like a fountain from where his waist should have been.

Ronan’s eyes widened. He instinctively grasped the hilt of his sword and charged at Brighia. Just before the blade could touch her throat, Brighia turned her head slightly, locking eyes with Ronan, and smiled.

“Oh, that kid.”

Brighia raised her hand.

Clang!

Lamancha stopped in its tracks, unable to land a hit. In her hand, a black energy emitted from a dagger. As Ronan tried to launch consecutive attacks, she laughed, as if she had just thrown something away.

“This damn woman! What have you done?!”

“I appreciated what you did earlier. It’s nice having broad shoulders.”

There was no sense of urgency in her nonchalant voice. While the consecutive strikes were blocked once again, Ronan relentlessly swung his sword.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew as their arms moved, cutting through the rain. Brighia easily dodged or parried Ronan’s attacks and began to speak.

“But why did you come? I had spared you, but now, there’s no other choice but to kill you.”

“Shut up…!”

Ronan opened his eyes wide. The mana’s flow was scattered in every direction, perhaps due to the surrounding leylines. Ronan reached out to the flow extending towards Brighia and sent a sword strike along it.

“Huh?”

The sword strikes, now several times faster, cut through raindrops and flew towards her. Sensing the danger, Brighia quickly assumed a defensive stance.

Klang!

Unable to withstand the impact, her dagger flew into the air.

“Grgh!”

“Die!”

Ronan attempted another sword swing. Suddenly, a sinister energy surged up his nape. Instinctively, he halted his attack and moved his body backward.

Thud!

A massive thorn made of shadows shot up from exactly where Ronan had been standing. Beyond the thorn, Brighia’s voice could be heard.

“It’s a technique of mine.”

“Using such cheap tricks.”

——————

Ronan, readjusting his stance, charged towards Brighia once more. As his foot left the ground, thorns shot up menacingly. Simultaneously, the air shimmered, and five thorns shot forth from different directions towards Ronan.

Ronan spun in a flurry of five rotations, swinging his sword.

Swish!

Along the blade’s path, the thorns were severed, revealing Brighia’s figure. Ronan clenched his teeth. Above her shoulder, a black and ominous mana, dark as pitch, was emanating. Amidst it, a familiar cluster of light sparkled like stars in the night sky. A murmuring chant escaped Ronan’s lips.

“Nebula Clazier.”

“What? How do you know that…?”

Instead of answering, Ronan released another sword strike. Brighia leapt backward, avoiding the attack. The shadow beneath her feet climbed up her legs. With completely changed eyes, she spoke with a lively voice.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Your mother mentioned it last night.”

“…I guess I can’t let you live after all.”

Brighia swung her remaining arm like a whip.

Squaaah!

The unbelievably long blade made of shadows shot towards Ronan. It was a skill one would never expect from someone injured as she was.

“Damn it!”

Ronan stood his sword upright. The flying shadows collided with a mountaintop, causing a massive explosion. But the assault wasn’t over. Thorn-like projections, resembling fingers, once again rushed towards Ronan. One thorn that he failed to deflect pierced through his shoulder.

“Ugh!”

Blood sprayed. He was overwhelmed by pain, but he had no time to feel it. Thorny shadows wriggled like vines, pursuing Ronan. He needed to close the distance to do anything, but getting closer was impossible. In the midst of swatting away the thorns and retreating, suddenly, Sarante’s voice echoed in Ronan’s mind.

[Ronan, retreat.]

“Damn, You surprised me. You aren’t dead yet?”

“Not yet. I will buy you some time. Seize the opportunity to escape.”

He suddenly felt his fingertips trembling. Instinctively sensing danger, Ronan turned and began to run. Brighia scoffed.

“After all that boasting, you’re running away?”

Brighia raised her palm, with a mocking smile. Once again, a crescent-shaped shadow was launched at Ronan. He didn’t try to fend it off; he bent his body and dodged. The shadow grazed his head. Suddenly, the sky brightened.

“What?”

Brighia tilted her head. Simultaneously, a massive bolt of lightning struck down from above her head.

Kwaang!

A mixture of mana and current exploded, creating a blinding flash that obscured everything. Now was the chance. Changing direction, Ronan lunged toward the half-bodied Sarante.

“Damn it, was that you just now?!”

[Why did you come this way?]

“Well! You’re about to die, aren’t you?”

Ronan furrowed his brow. Just then, as the flash subsided, Brighia revealed herself.

“Gasp… gasp… gasp…”

Though her appearance of standing still and catching her breath seemed greatly shocked, there seemed to be no apparent harm to her body.

‘A monstrous woman.’ Just as Ronan was muttering this, something caught his eye.

‘Is that…?’

A semi-transparent barrier flickered around Brighia’s body. It was a bizarre barrier that gave a completely different impression from a mana shield. An inexplicable unease washed over him. Sarante seemed to express astonishment.

[Aah, once again… this time, as well…]

“Am I the only one who can see that? What is that?”

[She calls it the ‘Blessing of the Stars’… I don’t really know either. Any attack that touches it dissipates or disappears.]

“That’s why my attack didn’t work?”

[Yes. I don’t know what kind of power it is, but the dynamics have changed. It’s not an opponent you can face right now.]

Ronan raised an eyebrow. He definitely had a memory of this before. Brighia, who was catching her breath, spoke up.

“Huh… You can’t let your guard down, Sarante. This time, I really almost died.”

“Cow-c-coward…”

“Haha, calling me a coward…, anyway, with this, your chances of winning are completely gone.”

Brighia reached out her hand. Shadows converged, and the dagger Ronan had deflected earlier reappeared. She spun the dagger once, gripping it. She glared at Ronan and Sarante and said,

“Getting a bit tedious… huh, let’s finish this.”

Shadows gathered beneath Brighia’s feet. The shadows climbing up her body covered her like armor. The shadow that grew along the dagger took on the shape of a longsword. In succession, the space behind her shimmered, revealing hundreds of thorns.

It was undoubtedly the posture of preparing for a final strike. A voice, as if exhausted, flowed from beneath the shadowy helmet.

“My friend’s life…, I’ll have to take it myself…”

“Ah… aah…”

Sarante, now pale as a corpse, let out a despairing sigh. He explained that there was no way to harm Brighia while the defensive barrier was active. The moment he heard this, Ronan’s eyes widened as if they were about to pop out. The name of that damn bastard he could never forget flashed in his mind.

‘Ahayute…!’

He remembered. Within the protective barrier that surrounded Brighia, he sensed a similar aura to what he had felt from that bastard.

Ahayute had effortlessly deflected or dissipated attacks from everyone except Ronan. The scattered pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The bald-headed worshippers. The bald-headed adepts’ power.

While Ronan was lost in thought for a moment, he whispered to Sarante.

“Sarante.”

[Yes?]

“Can you create a single opening for me?”

[What are you talking about…]

“I’m not expecting the same lightning as before. Even the smallest thing would do. So… Can you?”

Ronan quickly explained his plan in a whisper. Sarante, who had been silently expressing skepticism, nodded his head. Just then, Brighia vanished from sight.

“Goodbye, Sarante.”

Ronan focused his mind. Time seemed to slow down as he saw Brighia’s changing form. Behind her, thorns that had been shot a moment too late were flying towards them in a torrent. In the desperate moment, Sarante’s chanting echoed in Ronan’s ear.

“Wind Sphere.”

Squish!

A magic circle appeared in the air, and a spear made of wind shot towards Brighia. Simultaneously, Ronan lunged with Lamancha.

The distance closed in an instant. Ronan was slightly faster. Alternating between Ronan’s stab and Sarante’s magic, Brighia turned her head towards Sarante’s magic.

It was a highly logical and rational judgment. It was evident that even though her protection would thwart it, a skilled magician’s magic would be more threatening than a novice’s swordplay, naturally.

And that judgment determined her fate. Lamancha, tearing through her defense, drew a crescent arc.

Swish!

Brighia’s head shot up into the air.


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