1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

120. Luon al Banass (3)

Akandrik spoke.

Mana is not only the source of magic but also the essence of aura.

– Aura, after all, is a power that has been transformed from mana through a method called cultivation. Thus, some scholars argue that the superhuman strength of swordsmen should also be considered a form of magic.

His argument held some weight.

Just as mana can be reshaped into a spell to summon winds or strike with lightning, through the art of cultivation, it can be transmuted into the powers of indestructibility, swiftness, and might.

There is indeed a process of transforming it into aura, but still.

Since the origin of aura is ultimately mana, Akandrik asserted that swordsmen could wield miraculous powers akin to magic with their blades.

– From mana to aura. From aura back to mana. Through this continuous cycle, such feats become possible.

In Akandrik’s case, that miracle was a blade imbued with coldness. The Frostblade.

– The principle is simple. It absorbs coldness in its mana state and then transforms back into aura to release it through the sword.

When the coldness dissipates, it is again transmuted from aura back to mana, replenishing the mana with coldness.

As this process is repeated, frost begins to cling to the blade, ultimately forming crystalline ice.

Of course, it will not be easy. For deep understanding is required. But, Luon. If you were born with the qualities of a swordmaster, you will soon ignite it.

Luon recalled Akandric’s teachings as he gazed at the frostblade in his hand.

Whiiiii—

It was still far from igniting the clear, transparent ice crystal.

Only the white frost clung to it.

Yet, even that was an overwhelming power.

Ping!

Luon deftly deflected Sila’s blade aimed at his neck.

The frost that coated the blade allowed it to slip easily.

Thud!

As he lightly jabbed her thigh with the frostblade, Sila gritted her teeth and took a step back.

“Ugh!”

Luon averted his indifferent gaze from Sila and turned to Riamon.

Sila, seemingly displeased, huffed and spoke.

“You b*stard… There’s a limit to how much you can disregard a person!”

Luon replied.

Yet his eyes remained fixed on Riamon.

“If you can move, then do so.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a squelching sound echoed.

The wound on his thigh began to freeze.

Sila ground her teeth and shouted.

“Ugh, this is so infuriating!”

Leaving her to retreat, Luon approached Riamon.

He then scanned the surroundings.

Asley and Rix lay unconscious, Eruzel too.

Belman and Edina bore the marks of a blade upon their chests from a fierce strike.

And Leana clutched her belly, trying to stifle the wound.

Only Riamon and Limberton, who aimed his bow from a distance, remained.

With a nonchalant expression, Luon spoke.

“Looks like you’ve been waiting. Did you have no intention of fighting alongside your comrades at all?”

Riamon loosened his arms and shoulders with a sharp crack.

“Well, I’m not so good at keeping in step with the others.”

As Riamon raised his great sword, Luon slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again, speaking softly.

“Limberton, feel free to shoot your arrows as you wish.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than Riamon charged forward.

In that same breath, Limberton’s arrow was loosed.

Luon subtly turned his head, swiftly deflecting the arrow that approached him.

Clang!

Limberton exclaimed in a startled voice.

“Y-you reacted to that?”

In quick succession, Riamon’s great sword came slicing down at an angle, aiming for Luon’s shoulder.

Luon effortlessly pivoted to evade.

Boom!

As the great sword struck the ground, Luon’s lips twitched.

He tried to stifle a yawn that threatened to spill forth, but ultimately, he covered his mouth with empty hands.

“Haah.”

It was only natural to feel bored.

What joy could there be in facing students weaker than a professor?

And so, he fell into contemplation.

‘What am I doing here?’

Even as Riamon’s blade and Limberton’s arrow drew near, Luon surrendered his body to reflexive movements.

When an attack came, he dodged; when a gap appeared, he struck out instinctively.

He continued this cycle, thoughts weaving through his mind.

‘This was merely an attempt born of a fleeting hope.’

When the time limit passed, he had planned to die alongside his craft.

It mattered little if he were to perish at their hands.

All he desired was a single spark of stimulation.

“Ugh!”

A groan echoed, jolting him back to reality.

Before he knew it, Riamon lay crumpled at his feet, his twisted face looking up at him.

As Luon blinked at the splattered blood marking his body, he felt a strange detachment.

“You seem to have held on for quite a while.”

“…Let me ask just one thing. You seemed lost in thought throughout the fight; what on earth were you thinking?”

At Riamon’s question, Luon let his sword droop.

“Well?”

He then turned his gaze toward Limberton.

What met his eyes was the glint of an arrow, perilously close.

Instinctively, Luon moved, but then he hesitated.

Thwack!

The arrow pierced through his shoulder.

In that moment, those who had fainted began to stir, and the wounded gasped for breath as they grasped their weapons.

Luon spread his hands, feeling the familiar emptiness wash over him.

“I just thought… that it was all meaningless.”

Clang.

As his sword bounced off the ground, they began to approach.

* * *

By the time they reached the eleventh floor, they had hidden themselves in a classroom.

As expected, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs echoed through the air.

“Are we just going to let this go? Shouldn’t we make sure to sever the head cleanly?”

The owner of the anxious voice was Sila.

Belman answered her.

“I stabbed the heart. He’ll be dead soon enough.”

“Still.”

“Then why didn’t you do it?”

Belman’s sharp words made Sila mutter under her breath.

“…I don’t know. It just felt wrong.”

To anyone, striking the neck of someone who seemed intent on suicide would have felt unsettling.

He might have even appeared pitiful.

With death already a certainty, there was no reason to hesitate.

“Everyone must have felt the same way. But above all, we need to prioritize treatment. There are too many injured here. Let’s quickly lift the barrier and head to the infirmary.”

The sound of footsteps faded with Belman’s words.

I slipped out of the classroom and ascended the stairs.

As I stepped into the indoor garden on the twelfth floor, I spotted Luon walking toward the window.

Thud.

He halted.

With just a slight turn of his head toward me, he scattered broken mosaic pieces into the air.

I approached Luon in silence.

As I drew closer, he called my name.

“Hershel.”

Standing before him, I found myself at a loss for how to act.

Perhaps it was largely due to the conversation I had with Peldira in the dining hall.

When I asked her why she questioned me about Luon, she had replied like this:

– Well, it was clear from how Luon treated you that he held a certain admiration.

– Admiration?

– That’s how it appeared to me. Luon probably thought the same? But upon reflection, it seemed a bit different.

Peldira’s words scratched an itch in my mind that had long gone unaddressed.

– Luon doesn’t realize. It wasn’t the things you taught that brought him joy, but the fact that you were the one teaching him.

Just that one statement conjured vivid images.

The original owner of this body must have genuinely relished the wicked deeds he committed, urging Luon to partake in them.

Each time, Hershel would have claimed there was a certain ‘fun’ in it, and in that moment, Luon, emotionally dulled, must have fallen into a nonsensical delusion.

Unaware that the essence that had moistened his parched spirit was not the pleasure derived from the act itself, but rather the emotional connection with the one who had shown him kindness.

– No matter how indifferent one may be, as a child, there’s a yearning for parental care. It’s a survival instinct. If that need goes unmet, it inevitably leaves a void.

In the end, Luon needed someone to lean on.

Having lived nearly abandoned by his parents, when a man with shared experiences approached him, teaching him and extending kindness, he must have felt a sense of fulfillment, even if unconsciously.

Yet, whether in games or reality, Hershel had become a figure who had left Luon behind.

Whether it was by dying as originally intended or by me, the one who now possessed this body, pushing him away, the outcome was the same.

Given how things had turned out, there were likely few people Luon could rely on.

Aiman and Alcis were merely using Luon for their own pleasures.

He feared Luon, hiding it well, merely adopting a form of submission.

At least there was Kurel, who genuinely believed in and followed him, but even he propped Luon up by belittling himself too much.

Leaning against such a creature would surely lead to a collapse; it is hard to see it as a being one could rely upon.

At least, it wouldn’t hold true unless one were better than oneself or on equal footing.

More than that, I realized it was time to stop pondering and start speaking.

No matter how much that wretch had consumed the potion of monstrosity, it was merely a temporary reprieve from death.

“Ha…”

I let out a faint sigh and scanned Luon’s entire form.

I thought the topic of our first conversation would suitably revolve around the clothes he wore.

Though the blood flowing from my heart soaked my chest…

“It seems like a garment I’ve seen before.”

“Perhaps it’s because I chose a design similar to what you used to wear.”

Luon also examined my attire.

“Yet, Hessel, you’re dressed differently than usual.”

“Well, that’s true.”

With that remark, silence fell between us for a few seconds.

Given that he had caused a major incident, I felt the urge to lecture him, but that seemed… off.

With a body burdened by misdeeds, any words of admonition would only sound like nonsense.

I sought to break the uncomfortable stillness and opened my mouth.

“Do you perhaps blame me?”

As I asked, staring into his eyes, he let out a soft chuckle.

“According to Peldira, yes, that seems to be the case.”

“And what about you? Do you think so?”

Luon blinked once and lowered his gaze.

He appeared to be deep in thought for a moment.

“…Just for a brief moment. I did wonder if it would feel different to cause pain to your friends.”

“Seems you didn’t feel that way after all.”

“…”

Luon’s expression remained impassive.

A lighter conversation might be more fitting.

I should have some memories of our past to draw upon, to say something at least.

“Hmm.”

Ultimately, I resolved to set the topic of conversation not in the distant past, but from the moment I entered this place.

“By the way, isn’t the human rights violation at this academy rather severe? The professors seem hell-bent on tormenting the students at all hours. They must think that’s what their salary is worth. There’s real work to be done elsewhere.”

As I shrugged my shoulders slightly, Luon let out a light chuckle.

“It is strange, indeed. The special dormitory is particularly harsh, but even the outside students are frequently subjected to the ‘Curse of Control,’ aren’t they?”

“It’s probably because this place resembles a mental ward. A white expanse of snow. A white ward. It’s just the right setting for a person to lose their mind.”

Various trivial conversations floated between us.

Yet, Luon continued to chuckle intermittently.

To be honest, I had always thought that Luon’s expressions were merely an act.

Like a dry-eyed psychopath pretending to be an ordinary person?

In the end, it seems I had misunderstood him through my tinted glasses.

When I set that aside, his expressions appeared vibrant.

At least, it made me wonder if he had shown his true self, at least in front of me.

Well, maybe not.

“…I was truly surprised when you killed the Bondragon in one blow.”

“That was a fluke. In truth, there was a hidden master at the academy, and I just happened to…”

As our conversation continued, Luon’s complexion grew paler.

“…Well, such things do happen. But don’t be too envious. I know you snuck out every night as well.”

We had been discussing light, everyday matters.

Then, Luon spoke to me in a voice drained of life.

“…Hershel.”

“What?”

“I’m fine to return now.”

When I questioned with my expression if he would really be okay, Luon whispered softly.

“If others were to see this scene, it would put you in a difficult position.”

Then, as if a sudden thought struck him, he pointed in a certain direction.

“Speaking of which, Pheldira asked me to tell you to take that when you arrive.”

A letter hung from the statue of the woman.

It seemed Pheldira had come here after leaving the dining hall.

Or perhaps she had magically inserted it there.

I tore open the envelope and checked its contents.

There lay a hidden place where a staff was concealed, inscribed with the incantation to unravel its cryptic code.

The location, of all places, was a hall difficult to enter.

You know the one.

The very spot where Erusell would boast of the statue of Aol standing beside the statue of the Grand Sorcerer.

“Hm.”

Yet, one might say the timing was exquisite.

If the academy was in chaos now, perhaps it would be permissible to slip in unannounced.

I tucked the letter into my pocket and turned my head.

He was already gazing out the window.

“Regrettably, the snow-capped mountains have yet to be adorned with greenery.”

His words, which had seemed so out of place for a moment, echoed in my mind.

On a spring day, several days into April, I must have encountered him on the stairs.

We had surely exchanged such words then.

– The scent of spring flowers has wafted all the way here.

– It seems even in this cold place, pollen does dance in the air.

– Don’t you wonder if the snows will all melt come summer?

– Indeed. If the snow-capped mountains were to be painted in green… well, I hope to see it then.

Now, the essence of early summer was thick in the air.

Yet, Luon was set to depart with the spring.

Regrettably, the chill of Frost Heart had denied him the splendor of verdant vistas.

“Indeed? If the snow-capped mountains were to be adorned in greenery…”

I trailed off, a sheepish smile creeping onto my face.

“I had thought it would be nice to see it with you then.”

Luon gave a light nod.

“Take care on your way.”

As he spoke, Luon wore a bright, innocent smile.

Who would have thought to see such an expression from the ‘Mad Prince’?

Life has its surprises.

* * *

The night air felt only colder.

In the indoor garden, Luon remained alone, wiping his blue-tinged lips with his hand.

No blood oozed forth.

Thanks to the medicine, it seemed the wound had subsided.

Yet the pain from the dagger’s thrust to his heart lingered still.

The pace of his unraveling was swifter than his recovery, and the bleeding had grown more severe than before.

Luon stared blankly at the vial of medicine given to him by Peldira.

“Irony, isn’t it? They say they can regenerate limbs, yet why not the heart…?”

Disappointment flickered, but he soon shook his head.

Even that was a stroke of fortune.

If he could live just a little longer, it would grant him more time to think and to depart.

Thud.

Luon sat on the windowsill, tossing a pill into his mouth in hopes of extending his life by even a few minutes.

Then he fell into contemplation.

“Was this what I truly wished for?”

In the lingering silence, he finally realized.

What he desired was not the fleeting pleasures born of a series of actions, but simply someone to lean against and share a tranquil connection.

“Yes, that’s why it was so.”

The thrill of fighting with Akandric had stemmed from the strange fulfillment of their emotional bond.

The reason why indulging in games and such had felt hollow was perhaps because that connection was absent.

In the end, what he sought was not intense stimulation, but a subtle, deep-seated sense of stability.

Yet, with death looming, it was too late to come to such realizations.

Luon pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips.

Then, suddenly, he recalled Peldira, who had flitted to his side, chiding him.

“Why do you keep smoking that wretched thing?”

Luon understood that all of this was thanks to Peldira.

Had she not been there, explaining this and that, he might not have known what he truly desired even in his dying moments.

Moreover, seeing the letter from the prince, it was likely she had sent Hessel here as well.

“Ah.”

Luon lowered his gaze from the snowy mountains.

Surely, Peldira was being pursued by some old man.

Urgently rolling her eyes, she caught sight of her.

Peldira was crawling toward the fountain, blood gushing from one thigh.