81 – Ripple

My body moves.

And with incredible speed.

It’s hard to imagine this is the same

body that was so helpless just moments ago.

I am surely moving with my own will, but

it feels as though it is not my body at all.

Muscles, joints, every nerve in my body,

move solely for my sake.

≪The effect of ‘Eyes of the Ash-Gray Dragon’ is activated.≫

≪Temporarily grants the ability to use “Dragon Tongue.”≫

≪Excessive use may lead to draconic influ…≫

I ignored the ringing system messages,

and pulled myself to my feet.

Before me stood the one who looked incredibly disconcerted,

She passes the elf wearing that expression, too.

I know it instinctively.

That this is the limit of this body.

Compressing, compressing, compressing it to the very edge of its limit,

Drawing out every last bit of power this body possesses.

Which means, somehow, right now,

I feel like I can do it.

Just a sliver, but I feel like I can return to

The me who was once the moon of a nation.

I gather magic power in both hands.

A pure and pristine magic power.

Blue and bluer mana coalescing,

Almost making one think it’s cool to the touch.

I continue gathering, gathering it.

Until both hands are completely submerged in magic power.

The masses of magic power that form

Are like blue, oh so blue, moon globes.

“…What are you doing?”

“Doesn’t it…look like a moon to you, this?”

“What utter nonsense─”

“That’s right, the moon reflected on a blue lake.”

Ignoring her, who gazes at me with an uncomprehending look,

I place one hand right beneath my feet.

One hand out of the two that are gathering the magic power.

Beneath me, a blue circle made of magic power appears,

And the circle ripples as if about to burst at any moment.

Because it is made purely of magic power,

It is that unstable.

If it is not perfectly controlled,

It is like a bomb ready to detonate at any time.

That is what is now laid out beneath my feet.

“What are you doing…!”

“What do you mean.”

“Don’t you know? Releasing that much magic power,

It will explode…!”

As expected, her dissuasion

Can be heard right next to me.

It’s dangerous, it might explode, she says.

Does I not know what a magic power explosion is?

She tries to stop me with all sorts of words.

But, my body moves.

As if fearing none of it.

“Ju…just a mo…what?”

“There is no problem.”

“…no…no how, this is imposs…!”

Perhaps it’s only to be expected.

A magic control acknowledged even by the Grand Sage.

If I couldn’t manage this paltry amount of mana,

how could I have ever earned such recognition?

The Azure Moon beneath my feet shimmered,

but did not break nor scatter,

and even as I took a step,

it remained unchanged.

I steeled myself to ignore the gasp of awe

rising from beside me and took another step.

And extended my remaining hand forward.

The hand where the rounded mana still gathered.

I compressed it.

I concentrated it.

Into a single point.

The rounded mana within my hand

gradually warped, taking form.

As if being discharged towards somewhere,

it faced only one direction,

and finally, what rested in my hand was not

the shimmering, rounded mana, but

something gathered and converged, perfected,

a very slender, elongated, awl-shaped mana.

I did not stop there.

Once more, I drew up mana.

Though I had already poured

almost all of it into gathering this mana,

what did that matter?

“Se Rellier.”

“Again, what language is that…”

The words leaving my lips

contain the phenomenon itself.

Her gaze, unable to comprehend

the words spilling from my mouth, shifts elsewhere.

The spirits beside her…

Perhaps she had realized it.

That all the mana clinging to the grass, trees, stones, the very air around me,

was converging upon me.

“…The forest mana, dwelling in a human?”

“Circuler.”

“…Haha, what is this…”

Leaving her voice, laced with awe, behind,

I draw the gathered mana into my body.

I could feel it entering my skin, my bones, even the blood coursing through me.

Mana riding the current,

and soon,

transmuting into overflowing magical power.

I take another step.

Holding the sharply condensed mana aloft.

And with my remaining hand, I manipulate the mana,

casting a spell.

One of the ones I’ve practiced the most.

I draw a straight line.

I dash off a curve.

They coalesce into one.

Line meets line, forming a shape.

Those shapes meet each other, crafting a specific sigil.

Enchantment Magic [Amplification, Target: Magical Power]

≪Warning, user’s body cannot withstand the magical power.≫

≪It is not recommended to draw up any further magical power…≫

The magical power within me thrashes wildly.

Beneath my feet, in the mana held within my hand.

As if imbued with a will of their own,

I am briefly taken aback by the intensified resistance and struggle for control.

But taming the storm-like magical power

takes only a moment.

The difficult parts are resolved by

chanting draconic words,

and most of the rampaging mana, after all,

were elements I could control myself.

Of course, my body wasn’t unscathed.

Having accepted mana exceeding my limit,

the backlash began to ripple through my entire being.

Blood streamed from my eyes,

my head throbbed,

My vision fractured, splitting into three.

Still, the mana cradled within my hand

remained unwavering.

No, perhaps amplified by the splitting,

it felt only sharpened, keener.

Even now, resting on my palm,

it roiled with cerulean energy.

Slowly, I aimed.

Towards the fray unfolding before me.

Three colours danced in my sight, silver and black.

And mingled with them, a vibrant red.

The silver armour, though stained with blood,

held not a single drop upon his blade.

In stark contrast, the black tendrils were drenched,

crimson droplets pattering to the ground,

yet the boy bore no visible wound.

Utterly illogical,

selfish, and utterly biased, this battle.

Towards this battle,

I aimed a single blade.

Enchantment [Enhance, Target: Body]

Basic magic, the Wind and the Dancer’s Dance.

I ran.

Accelerating my body to breakneck speed.

The enhanced physique and the spell amplifying my pace

made this velocity possible.

Prepared to pierce through it all,

I accelerated further, and further still.

“Ah, Senior! Didn’t I tell you to wait!?”

“Too late, you moronic b*stard.”

He whipped his head around,

but the moment had passed.

The distance between us was the width of a fist,

and my mana was already on the verge of contact.

It struck.

Something, undeniably, was struck.

The instant my mana touched him,

a sound like shattering echoes erupted around us,

smoke billowed, and the earth beneath our feet trembled.

My assault didn’t cease there.

The moment his magic and mine intertwined,

I relinquished all control over my own mana.

The mana fashioned into a blade in my hand,

and the azure mana coursing beneath my feet, everything.

In that instant, a ripple echoed through the air,

and the entire forest floor trembled.

Like a vast wave rippling outwards across a placid lake.

Moonlit Nine Swords, Second Form.

Crushing Moon.

And that wave, spreading ever outwards,

would shatter even the moon reflected in the lake.

Even if that moon was the pale blue one in the night sky.

*

He wasn’t giving it much thought.

Not even now, in the midst of this fight.

“Huh…huff…ha…”

“Isn’t this just a bit pathetic?

You know you can’t win, right?”

“…”

“Why don’t you just fall down?

No one’s going to blame you.”

Even now, as he offered advice to the old man,

who was bleeding before him but continuing to charge.

He wasn’t giving it much thought.

He simply believed it would be for the best.

He just wanted to quickly finish things here,

and get back to finishing what he and “Senior” were doing.

“Ha…hehehe…”

“What are you laughing about?”

And so, he couldn’t comprehend it.

The old man’s state of mind, laughing in the face of death.

The heart of this man, enduring pain,

yet stubbornly holding his sword.

His body must feel like a thousand pounds,

yet he absolutely refuses to falter—his will…

As a boy, he simply couldn’t understand.

“…I’m laughing because I pity you.”

“Oh, so you think your own circumstances are pitiful enough to—”

“No, that’s not it.”

The old man’s finger, pointing at himself as he spoke,

seemed somehow heavier than his armor,

far more threatening than the silver sword

he held,

and infinitely more irritating than the smile

plastered on his face.

“…What is it, with the finger.”

“You didn’t even know you were a monster,

and now you seem to have forgotten human emotions too.

And yet, you cling to this human form…

It makes me laugh, the pathetic and childish way

you yearn for a life you can never have.”

“…The old coot’s gone senile, it seems.

I’ll put you out of your misery.”

It was a first, to feel

such acute displeasure from a single sentence.

Perhaps that was why.

Why the boy’s gaze was drawn to him, so momentarily.

Was that the reason?

The reason he noticed someone approaching

so belatedly?

By the time he registered the newcomer as his senior,

and turned his head,

the distance between them

had already closed to almost nothing.

How?

He was sure the senior was unable to fight.

How had he managed it?

What had he done,

what efforts had he poured in?

Too short a time to have exerted effort,

too miraculous to have achieved through sheer force of will.

Ah, so the senior is, once again,

overcoming yet another trial.

So easily.

So lightly.

Ah, I envy him.

I envy you, so much that I can’t bear it.