NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31
I absolutely adore convenient things. I’m fairly aware that I have a penchant for newer items, and in my past life, I often found myself impulsively purchasing various things, thinking, “This is pretty cool,” all due to my materialistic desires.
That said, I came to realize that indulging in convenience too much can be problematic.
“Ooooh, fairies, oooohh…”
Right now, I’m trembling with fear from the violence of a race-specific skill as I face four defeated monsters lying before me.
This place is located off to the side of the banquet hall in the central wing, designated as a waiting area for the maids and attendants. Guided here by Rorotto, upon hearing that four monsters were crammed inside, I couldn’t help but mutter, “Uh-oh.” If this weren’t a fantasy world, I’d be demanding either a flare or a flashbang grenade in this situation.
Taking on all four solo would be grueling. It’s not about possibility or impossibility—it’s simply that I know I’ll expend a lot of energy, which is why I don’t want to do it. In fact, before coming here, I had already fought six in a hard-hitting battle and felt confident. However, I also felt like I’d overused the “hands” for backstabs, despite still having physical stamina. The overuse of “hands,” which enhance output through the infusion of magic, has left me with a somewhat concerning reserve of magical power.
I have this odd sensation of losing strength. With only halfway through my resources already, I’m more likely to collapse before I run out completely. It seems I haven’t been born under a system where I can perform fully until my HP or MP hits zero. It would be troublesome if things became too real in a negative sense, leading to an unfavorable drop in popularity…
Jokes aside, with Ursula’s help in temporarily blinding the monsters, I moved in and swiftly ended it all with a single thrust of the “Fairy Knife.” It was shockingly effortless.
Getting used to this level of ease might make anything less seem clumsy. Probably, like getting overly accustomed to a strong character in a fighting game, it could lead to a relative weakening as you start to lose versatility. While convenience is indeed convenient, I must avoid becoming too reliant on it.
Sooner or later, there’s going to be a situation where I’ll have to handle things on my own, and if I can’t, I’ll be in a tight spot.
“That’s right, my dear. Fairies are essentially terrifying creatures… I’m delighted to be loved, but don’t rely on me too much, alright? But you know what?”
She cheerfully suggested that dancing joyfully on a misty hill without a care in the world could also be fun. How come all the lolis around me love whispering dangerous things into my ear?
While savoring the familiar tingling sensation running from my tailbone up to my brain, I put away the knife into my pouch, which hadn’t even left a speck of blood despite its flamboyant use. I should probably tone this down a bit. With a blade this sharp, it’s easy to lose the basic discipline of a swordsman that comes from maintaining proper edge techniques.
Alright, having dealt with four, there’s one ogre left. Rorotto has already confirmed its position, and it’s apparently lying in wait in the banquet hall.
Is this intentional positioning? If you charge into the banquet hall mindlessly, the four from the waiting area would rush in, surrounding and overwhelming you. This setup seems designed to fully eliminate an unsuspecting player.
Despite being chilled by the ominous intent, I gathered my resolve and opened the banquet hall door.
Alright, let’s go for a proper fight.
What was once likely a lavish hall filled with exquisite cuisine, laughter from family, and praise for the chef’s artistry, has now become an eerily desolate place.
The long table, obstructively smashed and pushed into a corner, the crimson carpet faded to a dark tone from years of wear, and the once-bright decorations now embodying the faded beauty of bygone elegance.
In the deepest part of this space, in the lone remnant of the grand guest seat, sat the towering figure.
A magnificent ogre standing three meters tall.
Its azure skin faintly shimmered in the pale afternoon light streaming through a cracked skylight, and the hide armor, still retaining much of the original form of the animal’s fur, was brutish yet lent the warrior an aura of untamed valor.
With its left hand, it held a massive round shield planted into the ground in a protective posture, while cradling an enormous greatsword similar to a spear for humans, which demonstrated the scale of an ogress.
“Come now, seriously…”
Our gazes met, and the sharp blue-metallic gleam in her eyes conveyed undeniable intelligence. These were the eyes of a seasoned warrior, far different from the frenzied male ogres I’d faced earlier in the daylight.
With deliberate, almost lethargic movements, she stood up, her graceful face relaxed yet poised. In her left hand, she grasped the shield while in her right, the enormous sword—a scale that rendered it little more than a hand spear for humans—and she advanced toward me.
The fight began. Without any formalities, it was a straightforward clash of lives, an unrelenting test to see whose resolve was the strongest.
The ogre pushed forward her shield, adopting a textbook-perfect stance where both the shield and sword worked harmoniously.
The shield was positioned to fully cover vital areas and angled slightly to deflect impacts. The sword, drawn back and hidden in her body and shield’s shadow, obscured her initial steps, leaving her attack timing unpredictable.
Advancing recklessly would invite a shield strike followed by a swift slash, and any clumsy evasion would be met with a well-adjusted counter. A mediocre strike would be easily deflected by the shield, creating an opening where she could overwhelm me. Her stance was fundamental but also deceptively challenging to counter, almost flawlessly beautiful.
Even worse, with a three-meter height and an imposing weight resembling an armored vehicle, normal combatants would either retreat in a desperate sprint or ponder the least painful way to die in such scenarios.
In response to the oncoming tank-like charge, I rushed forward, positioning the “Sending Wolf” in a low stance.
It’s true, the female ogre is far stronger than the male ones I’ve been told about, and I admit being startled by our confrontation. However, my fighting spirit remains unbroken thanks to Mr. Lambert teaching me appropriate tactics even in such situations.
What is the most crucial aspect in battle? Strength? Probably not wrong. Speed? Can’t deny that. Strategy? Certainly an important element. However, none of these are the most crucial.
The most important part is reading the distance and occupying the most significant position at each moment!
As soon as we reached striking distance, her shield, growling with power, was swung with great force. I evaded it, diving lower while stepping forward, causing a sharp clang as the edge of the shield barely grazed my helmet, sending sparks flying.
Taking advantage of her slight imbalance from lifting the shield, a swift upward slash from below followed with the force of a typhoon. I dodged it again by calculating the range of her joint movements, placing myself precisely where her blade couldn’t reach.
While diving in, I countered with a rising strike aimed at the massive arm whipping above me.
“!”
Even as I narrowly passed by, grazing her thigh, my hand went numb with a heavy impact. A well-coordinated full-body strike with proper blade techniques like this leaves a strong impression. A slightly misaligned angle would have resulted in the sword being deflected and a strained wrist.
However, the numbness was worth it. Looking at the tip of my blade, I saw a slick smear of blue blood clinging to it.
“GURR…!”
As I pulled away and turned around, the ogre’s sword clattered to the ground, having been severed from the joint between her arm guard and wrist guard by my blade.
The ultimate enhancement of my dynamic vision through “Lightning Reflexes” and “Perception,” combined with “Multi-Analysis” focusing on predicting her every move, along with the refinement of my “Battlefield Swordsmanship,” allowed the fangs of the “Sending Wolf” to pierce even alloy-like bones.
It seemed I had severed the tendons in her right wrist, as she struggled to pick up the dropped sword with her impaired grip.
That’s one hand down. I wasted no time capitalizing on her attempt and sprinted at an all-out speed where my legs wouldn’t tangle, positioning myself behind her with my sword held over my right shoulder.
“GURUOOOOOOO!!!”
However, her reaction speed far exceeded my expectations. She rotated swiftly, compensating for her lost hand, and attempted to land a devastating spinning kick using her still powerful legs. The momentum of her heel, capable of smashing light vehicles to splinters, approached with terrifying speed.
Even with my helmet protecting my head, if her kick landed while countering me, my skull would have burst like a pomegranate. I had to act fast.
Thus, I entrusted a new task to my “hands.”
The overwhelming force from above shook my body down, and the lethal kick narrowly passed by, cutting through the sharp wind. Through the “hands,” I managed to shift into an evasive posture.
Immediately, I directed the “hands” to brace my chest from underneath, averting a fall. I corrected my stance with the next step and delivered a slashing blow to her knee while passing by her right side. Her knee was covered with hardened leather, but I dislodged it forcefully with the “hands” to expose a gap and delivered the strike.
This is the conduct of what I consider a “Magic Swordsman.” Magic and sword combined, not merely used separately; the blade pierces deeper and the techniques shine even brighter through their unity.
Blood sprayed, staining the chest plate blue, as the ogre dropped to her knee, tendons severed. This wasn’t the time to let up. The piercing kill intent made it clear that she hadn’t abandoned her murderous intent yet.
Carrying forward my momentum, I propelled myself by using the “hands” as footholds in the air. Simultaneously, as I twisted in the air, her powerful arm thrust through the air behind me, grazing my armor.
Even on her knees, she attempted to strike with her half-severed fist. A fighter of a warrior race, respected and feared, indeed. Her combat spirit far exceeded that of the male ogres who fell with a single handicap.
Because it was a punch, I narrowly avoided it, but if her left had swung towards me, the shield bash would have sent me flying, likely finishing me off. But thanks to correctly reading and acting on the situation, this is where I stand now.
I used the “hands” as footholds again, turning mid-air while simultaneously swinging my blade towards the opening between the hide armor protecting her neck and shoulders.
The blade cleanly severed about a quarter of her neck, blood spraying out like a pump, creating a blue fog. Avoiding being enshrouded by the spray, I had my “hands” generate a new foothold, vaulting myself off and twisting in the air.
Her final scream, mingling with her dying words, violently stirred the wind, slapping against my face. Had my retreat been delayed by mere seconds, she would have crushed me against the ceiling like a splattered frog.
Even so, the murderous intent in her eyes penetrated deep into my mind, instilling a piercing terror that gripped my heart. This intense, raw emotion, this overwhelming force, was something I had never felt before.
If I had seen those crimson, gleaming eyes in the middle of the fight, how would I have fared? Without “The Observing Eye” for analyzing the battlefield as a whole… I might have succumbed.
Overwhelmed by her killing intent, my posture faltered mid-air, resulting in an ungraceful landing. However, as soon as the impact hit, I regained my senses, managed the landing, and rolled to avoid injury. Considering this, I’ll take it as a win.
As the blood flow from her gushing wound began to weaken and eventually stopped, the ogre’s attempts to rise failed. Finally, she collapsed forward, still facing me with undying killing intent and spirit. It felt like a final cry, a last attempt to extinguish my will.
To my heartbeat, her blood spurted in intervals, eventually becoming sparse and then ceasing altogether.
All I could do was sit stupidly, watching her last moments.
…This is what it truly means to kill someone genuinely.
How terrifying. My entire body quakes with fear, my core shaken, and I feel as though my resolve is faltering. A sense of complete physical depletion overwhelms me, making the sheer effort to stand almost unbearable. The intense mental clash accompanied by burning murderous intent can consume one’s spirit in no time.
All I could think at that moment was not the feeling of victory or the joy of triumph, but the relief that I was still alive.
Until now, I was not truly engaging in a “duel to the death” in any meaningful sense. Cutting down enemies you handle with ease is closer to “killing” rather than “duel to the death.”
But my first real experience with the precariousness of every step and moment when life can so easily be lost? That, I experienced for the first time today.
As a tingling sensation engulfed me, I slapped my own cheek, standing back up.
What’s the point in hesitating here? I’m not about to dwell on philosophical musings about taken lives or the like. Those who lose their lives aren’t musing about fairness or balance; at most, they are probably thinking, “Damn, how could this happen to me?” When I put myself in their shoes, this becomes quite obvious.
I reflect on why I took up the sword. This unpleasant, horrifying experience is something I never want to subject someone important to. I stand for Eliza’s future, as her older brother. Therefore, I have no room here to falter.
“… May the soul of the skilled warrior find solace under the blessing of the God of War.”
I recited this sacred phrase, paying my respects to the fallen soul beneath my blade, and wiped the blood off.
So, will I be able to give the fairies who were watching from the sidelines without interfering a proper smile?
And so, a true combat experience—different from simply killing—has ended. This is something that becomes evident when considering situations like those of outlaws pushed into desperate straits.
I’ll gradually advance the timeline and head toward the Imperial Capital soon enough.
The next update will be around February 12, 2019, at 7:00 PM.