Chapter 11: Border (2)
The Magical Beast resembled a human in form, but its height was over twice Ellen’s. Its claws were abnormally long and thick.
And strong.
Claws and sword clashed, Aura and magic sparking like embers.
‘Equal.’
Their power was equal.
Being pushed back earlier was because she wasn’t prepared.
The deformed claws couldn’t break Ellen’s sword.
When her Aura depleted, the beast’s magic depleted just as much.
‘Speed…’
I’m slower.
Ellen struggled to admit it.
A mere beast, yet it was faster than her.
‘It’s weakened?’
The beast twitched. Its bones and muscles twisted as if unbound by physical limits.
It swung its claws. Too far to reach, yet they did. Its arm extended instantly.
…I almost died. Ellen sweated coldly, watching a rock split like tofu.
Her hair fluttered in the air. A split-second slower, and it would’ve been her head.
‘5th Rank.’
My words echoed in her mind.
For every five arcs Ellen’s sword traced, the beast’s claws flashed seven times.
Her innate divine strength and talent let her keep up.
Her natural reflexes reacted to the arcs, her divine strength fueling sudden counters.
Her vision narrowed.
Ellen’s eyes, sharp enough to catch falling snowflakes, had no such luxury now.
A moment’s distraction meant death.
A claw grazed her throat. Her eyes flashed. Her Aura-sharpened sword stabbed at the beast’s throat.
…It didn’t pierce. Unbelievably tough. Instead of retreating, the beast leaned in.
The sword scraped its neck, sparks flying over muscle.
Crunch!
Fangs tore through her gums, sinking into her shoulder.
Her left hand smashed the beast’s jaw upward. The teeth piercing her collarbone pulled out with a squelch. Ellen kicked its abdomen with both feet, gaining distance.
“…Crazy bastard.”
She shifted her sword to her left hand.
Her right arm dangled, numb, but she didn’t care. She could wield a sword equally with either hand.
Her Aura was breached. No big deal. Expected. Their power was equal.
A direct hit would naturally pierce.
‘Strength wasn’t the issue.’
Its tough body was.
Ellen was pierced; the beast wasn’t.
Its forte was a shield.
And not just a shield—its weapon matched hers.
‘My mistake.’
Its condition misled her.
Tattered skin, a left torso exposing a pulsing heart.
An injury so severe, you’d think it was dead.
That made her careless.
Who’d expect such a wounded beast to be so tough?
‘Not cautious enough.’
Even weakened, it was 5th Rank.
She was in her first real fight, in the Border’s harsh environment. No reason to be careless.
Yet she was.
The beast’s mouth gaped. Not a mouth—an maw. Human-like face, but the maw tore to its ears. Dozens of teeth grew like fangs and shot out.
By the time she thought they shot, they were at her nose.
Grr.
The beast’s growl came from behind.
Ellen dove sideways, rolling across the ground, scrambling up. A hole pierced her thigh from the fangs.
It laughed. She couldn’t see its expression, but she felt it. A chill hit her.
Slash.
A long gash appeared on her cheek. Not the beast—the Border.
I wasn’t blocking the warped nature anymore.
I hadn’t been for a while, but Ellen only felt it now. Her Aura was that depleted.
The Border’s chill didn’t just freeze—it gnawed the mind. But Ellen didn’t look for me. She watched the beast.
“Send me to a life-or-death moment.”
She’d said that to her swordmaster, Mores.
Practice was boring, sparring lacked tension. Victory came easy.
She craved real combat.
To stand on a line where death was possible.
…She was on that line.
Ellen’s lips curled unconsciously.
Carelessness put her at a disadvantage, yet it made her smile. Didn’t it feel more like a true life-or-death moment?
“You can be arrogant. It’s Serzila.”
My words came to mind.
Serzila could afford it. Ellen was Serzila.
Here, the price of arrogance wasn’t paid by the North—it was hers. So she could be arrogant. She could make mistakes.
As long as she survived.
That’s what a life-or-death moment was. It’d make her grow for the next.
In one blink, the beast was before her. Her instinctive swing deflected its claw. The impact shaved off a chunk of Aura.
The beast laughed. Ellen laughed too. Claws swung. She swung. She poured even the Aura blocking the chill and wind into her sword.
No matter how cold, her sword hand wouldn’t dull. If it did, she’d move harder. Her skin could tear; she just needed eyes to see the beast.
The beast was faster, but Ellen was relentless. She never paused, moving like mad.
Her narrowed vision shrank further. Her mind stopped thinking, moving on instinct.
She liked it. Moving without thought, yet no doubts arose. If it felt wrong, she’d question it. She wasn’t a beast.
No doubts came. Her smile deepened. Her heated body moved faster. The beast’s claws and her sword moved and landed simultaneously, pushed back equally.
The clashes grew fiercer, the noise louder. To Ellen, it sounded like footsteps.
From childhood, her strength overflowed.
Her footprints were deep.
She didn’t need such force to leave them.
Wasn’t it her innate divine strength?
Even light steps left deep marks.
Before her, a fog spread.
A fog obscuring everything. Now, she saw a little. Just ahead.
Her steps walked toward it.
Footprints were strength. Steps were combat, a misstep meant death. The fog was the unknown, a realm she didn’t yet know.
She aimed for it, drawing closer.
Each swing, each hit from the beast brought her nearer. An indescribable sense of achievement washed over her thoughtless mind.
Her movements gained momentum. Her fading Aura pushed back the beast’s claws. As its other hand twitched, Ellen swung first.
A line was carved into its rock-like muscle.
Blood flowed from its unscathed neck, its throat protruding.
It worked. A sudden thought gave certainty, pointing to the exposed left torso, the pulsing heart.
The weak point of a magical being.
Why was it so exposed? Whatever wounded it aimed for the heart.
It failed. Missed.
Ellen reached it. Her sword shot forward, the fastest yet. Too fast for the beast to react.
Crunch!
“Ah.”
No footprint.
Her sword hit the heart but didn’t pierce.
Her Aura was gone.
One last step, but no strength to take it.
The sword floated. The heart, the beast, vanished. Ellen couldn’t track it.
Not the beast speeding up—she slowed down. Her strength was gone, but it was still strong.
Grr.
Laughter. Mocking. A victor’s.
“…Bastard.”
Her left neck felt cold.
The Border’s chill mixed with death.
As Ellen sensed her end, a voice spoke.
“Your mouth’s foul.”
Warmth followed.
“Unlike your looks.”
***
It felt like blazing sunlight.
The world warmed. Her mind softened.
The wind slashing her skin stopped.
Because of me.
No, different from before. If earlier was warm, now it was hot. The flames had changed.
“Thanks to you.”
I smiled broadly, holding a sword. A sword of fire, gripping the beast’s claw.
A flame, yet steady, not flickering.
Fixed like a true sword. From afar, it’d look like a blade, not fire.
…No longer a 2nd Rank mimicking 3rd Rank.
The fire-sword’s shape was proof. I’d reached 3rd Rank.
“Had to eat it. Forgive me.”
The corpse’s heart, swallowed directly.
Ellen didn’t understand why I asked forgiveness. It didn’t matter.
Pop.
A small explosion. The beast retreated. Its claw was scorched.
A weakened 5th Rank beast.
Ellen rated herself 4th Rank.
Even she, in a trance, couldn’t wound it until now.
Yet I, just reaching 3rd Rank, did.
Not just the claw—blood flowed from a finger joint, from the explosion.
How?
“You were a 2nd Rank mimicking 3rd Rank.”
“Now a 3rd Rank mimicking 4th Rank?”
“You catch on quick.”
I smiled broadly.
The same smile, but Ellen found it more irritating now.
“Thanks to you draining its strength.”
To the beast, I was food.
But it didn’t charge.
Like with Ellen, it kept distance, watching me.
Thanks to her. She weakened it enough to make it wary of food.
“You were watching?”
Eating a heart didn’t take long.
I’d done it before. But this time was too slow. I deliberately held back.
“Sneaky. Typical mage.”
“Didn’t like it?”
“…No.”
Ellen couldn’t even lie.
If I’d intervened, she’d have been furious.
Her first real fight, a life-or-death moment. She’d never been so immersed.
The result was bitter, but the process was exhilarating.
“You use a sword too?”
I stared at Ellen.
“Better than you right now, I think.”
Veins bulged on her forehead.
I had a knack for provocation.
The beast seemed to agree, roaring in displeasure at our banter. Its magic shook Ellen’s head.
In her wavering vision, the beast charged.
Claws swung. Blocked by my fire-sword. Light flashed from the blade. An explosion. That’s how I wounded it earlier.
Claws broke through the black smoke, swinging again. My sword flowed like water, entangling the claws, sapping their force.
The fire-sword, freed, aimed for the beast’s neck. No scratch.
But…
Boom! The blade exploded again.
Blood flowed from the beast’s neck in the smoke. Its protruding throat was torn.
Thanks to Ellen draining its strength, slowing it enough for me to react.
Thanks to eating the 3rd Rank mage’s heart, narrowing the gap.
My eyes narrowed, glaring at the beast. I released my intent.
‘Still not enough.’
The gap was smaller, but it remained.
Magic was vague, but that vagueness had a price. With my current magic, I couldn’t burn it to death.
The Ripple mage, the fish-like beast—I could burn them. My rank was higher. No extra skill needed.
But not this one.
Not an opponent to overpower with raw magic.
‘The stronger the foe, the craftier you must be.’
Magic was cunning.
Simpler magic required brutish amounts.
Like killing with fists versus a blade.
Instead of burning, I needed a means to kill.
The fire-sword was that means, handling the beast’s unstoppable attacks.
Fire, yet like water.
The swordsmanship I’d learned was like that. The beast’s claws swung relentlessly but couldn’t touch me. They hit my sword and veered off.
The calm fire-sword surged when it touched the beast, exploding. The explosions were subtle. I imagined a needle before my sun.
A means to pierce the beast’s magic, impervious to 3rd Rank.
Burning was like spreading paint; a needle compressed that magic into a point.
It pierced the beast’s magic.
A small wound, but piercing mattered.
‘Not very intelligent.’
The beast didn’t understand why it was wounded, charging recklessly.
Against a mage, this trick would’ve worked only a few times. But the beast kept allowing it.
“It’ll die like this.”
I whispered, igniting a flame on its collarbone. Too quiet for Ellen, but the beast heard clearly.
“Kyaak!”
Its unending roar lingered like tinnitus in my ears, shaking my head.
Pop.
Its rock-like muscles swelled further. Five claws merged into a massive greatsword.
‘Not very intelligent.’
But it had some.
Realizing it’d die if worn down, it summoned all its remaining magic.
I felt thousands of ants crawling on my skin. The beast’s magic, pressing down.
Its Origin.
Unlike mages born with Origins, beasts built theirs through life.
Their Origins were usually instinctive.
In its magic, I saw a giant tree.
Rustling leaves boasting its presence, an unyielding giant.
Faint, but clearly an Origin.
If uninjured, a full 5th Rank, that tree would’ve rooted here.
It wouldn’t be this slow, and I’d be the one dead.
Before its branches swung, I dove into its chest. My fire-sword touched its heart.
The blade lost form, collapsing from the hilt, flowing into the heart.
Boom—!
The beast’s body quaked. It slumped, collapsing onto me.
***
“…”
Dead.
Ellen stared blankly.
She didn’t know what magic I used, but the beast’s death was clear.
Rank.
The Otherworld’s system wasn’t precise.
Unfamiliar to the continent.
Serzila, near the Otherworld, likened Aura and divine power to ranks.
Imprecise.
A 4th Rank was called knight-commander level, but a mere knight killed one. A commander died to a 3rd Rank. A 5th Rank wasn’t always equal to a Swordmaster.
Ranks weren’t exact for knights. Errors occurred.
Not for mages.
Ranks were made to classify mages.
‘For mages, ranks are absolute.’
A mage couldn’t surpass a higher rank.
Ellen knew it as an Otherworld truth, including for beasts.
…That truth just broke before her.
A Serzila truth, not the Otherworld’s, but the shock was immense.
The beast was 5th Rank. Even reduced to 4th by injury, a newly 3rd Rank mage shouldn’t defeat such a predator.
Like a rookie knight killing a wounded Swordmaster.
‘Because I drained its strength?’
No way.
Living near the border, Ellen knew the Otherworld’s might.
Only Serzila could handle them.
Less great than Serzila, but greater than the Empire or Church. That was her view of the Otherworld.
Ranks weren’t a system to be broken lightly.
Not called absolute for nothing.
But Ellen believed in my uniqueness over the rank’s absoluteness. Otherwise, she couldn’t accept her defeat.
“Hey.”
No answer.
The dead beast still covered me, its bulk enveloping me.
“Did you die?”
“…”
“Dead?”
“Not dead.”
An exhausted voice answered.
“Why’re you like that?”
“Used all my magic.”
“…”
“Flip this thing off.”
Drained, I couldn’t even crawl out.
“Idiot?”
Ellen laughed despite herself.
It felt oddly human.