EP.147 Superhuman, Just a Human (2)
“What exactly is a superhuman?”
Thud.
As she dashed down the snowy mountain, Raniel suddenly recalled a story she had heard in the past. It was about her own question to Sword Master Kuntel, asking what a superhuman truly was.
“Well, that’s been an ongoing mystery since Lord Galatrick founded Kirmelt Canyon. Truth is, we haven’t been able to find a concrete definition for becoming a superhuman here. It’s all just speculation.”
What is a Sword Master, then? No, before that, what on earth is a superhuman? It was a question that had been lingering for a very long time.
“They are those who can display perfect movements in any situation. They possess a sense that transcends humanity.”
That’s what Raniel knew.
Of course, she had never experienced the same level as they had, but superhumans often described their state like this.
“It feels like the limits of growth have vanished.”
Kuntel had said this while swinging his sword.
“You break down the wall that was blocking your path and gaze upon the vast plains beyond. A vast plain that seems forever unreachable, even if you walked your entire life.”
As Kuntel muttered, he lightly tapped his wrinkled forehead and chuckled grimly.
“Of course, if you hit the limit of lifespan like me, it’s all pointless. In the end, even a superhuman, without that ‘supersensory’ aspect, is just an ordinary human destined to age and die. Not some transcendent being like a Hero, but just a regular human.”
That’s where the meaning lies. Kuntel had remarked.
At that moment, Raniel had asked Kuntel, “What exactly is that wall we have to overcome to become a superhuman?”
The wall she had never experienced before.
“The limit on your assigned growth.”
In response to her query, Kuntel answered.
“Unless you’re an exceptional case like you, the Saint, the Archery Master, or Heroes… there exists a wall regardless of talent. One that is fair to everyone.”
A point that cannot be commonly surpassed. The limits of potential. That limit was referred to as the ‘wall’ in the canyon.
“The form varies, even its established point differs. Not a single one is the same. Just look at the Sword Master, how diverse must the Mages be?”
Then, how do you confront that wall?
“You already know, don’t you?”
Kuntel said with a bitter smile, shrugging his shoulders.
“I’ve always said it.”
The answer she had heard back then. Raniel unconsciously chewed on that answer.
“Nothing is as effective as practical experience.”
Raniel generally interpreted that statement this way.
“Rolling until the last moment before dying.”
A truth that transcends time and space.
The words had drifted in the air.
2.
Thud, boom.
The sound of a pounding heart.
Drip.
Cold sweat forming on her forehead.
Gulp.
The metallic scent of blood as she swallowed hard.
“Haah…”
Breath filling up to her chin.
Lac took a short breath and lifted his head.
Death.
From everything, Lac felt the presence of death.
Some deaths felt distant. Others felt near. At a glance, they seemed almost far away, but with even the smallest mistake, they would come swiftly.
An error leads to death.
Right now, Lac could feel that in his bones.
Thud.
Lac dashed through the snow, eyes wide open. What he saw was the enemy he had to face. In the not-so-brief engagement, Lac gauged his opponent’s strength.
Strong.
Incredibly strong.
He adhered to the basics and never strayed from his position. A knight with a well-balanced and unassuming strength. He diligently fulfilled his role.
Thud!
When he stomped his foot, the ground shook.
The barrier of light he created was not so easily breached.
“Because the God desires it…”
What about the old man hiding behind the barrier of light? Wasn’t he the Cardinal? Lac had heard the rumors about the old man too. A stalwart believer who led the charge in judging heresy.
“…there will be light.”
Indeed, as the rumors had suggested.
The old man’s prayers were swift. A fast prayer meant a quick spell. The instant the spell was completed, it posed a threat. Especially due to its speed.
Swish!
Lac leaned back to dodge the spell. The spell he couldn’t evade was struck down by his axe. The hand gripping the axe trembled slightly.
If I hadn’t used heat, I wouldn’t win.
If it had been Lac from a few months ago, he would have surely been defeated.
“Phew…”
Lac exhaled.
Steam escaped from the gaps. As he let out breath, Lac adjusted his grip on the axe.
Yes, a few months ago, he would have lost.
But not now.
It’s not a fight without a chance of winning.
So Lac thought.
The wall is solid. It’s high. However, it’s not strong enough to be unbreakable… nor too high to be unclimbable.
I’ve struck down an even stronger opponent, one that seemed to have no openings at all.
He recalled the battle in the forest.
The moment he had struck Kuntel, Lac never forgot it.
No matter how strong an enemy is, there are openings.
Lac had always been diligent in his studies.
Reflecting on the experiences of the past six months, Lac thrust into the ground. With each step he took, his body accelerated.
Woosh!
Lac glided over the snowy ground, closing the distance.
In an instant, Lac swung his axe down as if to pierce his foe. One axe struck the shield.
Clang!
The wall shifted slightly.
But there was not just one axe. One axe’s trajectory was perfectly followed by another axe.
Clang, clang!
Metal clashed against metal. Sparks flew.
The Holy Knight, Berlang, concentrated on defense. There was no time for a counterattack like before. The Cardinal chanted a spell to seize the chance for reprisal.
“Light…”
It was a moment when light would flare.
Lac’s pupils contracted. His movements quickened as if he had been waiting for that instant.
Woosh!
Snowflakes scattered.
Lac’s eyes moved rapidly.
Five.
He read the trajectory of the five arrows of light aimed at him, leaning his shoulders back. In a split second, as his tightly wound muscles pulled back, Lac swung his arm.
Whoosh!
That was the moment.
Neither the Cardinal nor Berlang anticipated what would happen next.
Clang-clang-clang!
In a single swing, Lac deflected all five arrows. Their paths altered. Where would they turn? Before Berlang could even check, the successive impacts provided the answer.
“Oof!”
The five impacts rang out against the shield.
Berlang took two steps back. A flicker of confusion briefly crossed his eyes.
I can do this.
Lac spotted an opening.
Like a predator who spotted a chance, Lac charged after Berlang, who had stepped back.
Clang, clang!
Cracks appeared in the shield.
The cracks widened.
Whoosh!
Lac never stayed still. He kept moving. The snowy field was like a front yard for the Warriors of the North. Lac knew how to maneuver across the snow.
Slipping like this.
Lac’s footprints marked the snow.
The footprints weren’t disjointed. They formed a continuous line, haphazardly covering the snowy peaks.
And sometimes, powerfully.
Boom!
Snow flurries shot into the air.
Lac sliced through the flurry with his axe, slamming the shield. Berlang was pushed back again. The Cardinal halted his arrows, releasing beams of light.
“I will retreat before the light!”
The wave of light shoved Lac back.
But it was only for a moment. Lac landed smoothly on the snowy ground and shot forward immediately, like a beast hunting its wounded prey.
Whoosh!
Swinging his axe, Lac thought.
There’s an opening.
His mind was cool.
His body was hot.
His movements were light.
Lac’s actions sped up a notch.
He swings, and then he strikes.
Repeating those two actions. The effect of that repetition was obvious. The deeply dented shield seemed about to tear apart.
Drip!
Wounds began to accumulate on Lac’s body. An arrow he couldn’t deflect grazed his skin. Some even lodged in him. However, Lac’s movements did not slow.
Tick-tick.
Bleeding, Lac swung his axe.
Unable to withstand the impact, a finger broke, but he felt fine.
I see it.
Squelch.
Now!
Lac swung his axe.
He thrust the axe into the opening. The once-solid castle wall began to crumble. With a swift kick, Lac sent the embedded axe flying.
Crack!
The shield shattered. Berlang’s eyes shook. Lac pressed in further, swinging the remaining axe with one hand. And then, that moment arrived.
Thud.
Berlang stomped his foot. Even his wobbly gaze seemed like a mere act, as he extended his fist. The shimmering barrier of light wrapped around his entire body but now only covered his fist.
Excellent. But lacking in experience.
Berlang was waiting for the right moment.
The wall would eventually crumble. Knowing that fact, Berlang kept a watchful eye for the moment the shield would shatter. The moment when his opponent, blinded by victory, would rush in.
Whoosh.
Like a spear splitting the air, Berlang’s fist surged toward Lac’s head. It was an unavoidable situation. Even dipping his head back would be too late.
But why…?
“……”
Lac’s eyes remained steady.
As if he had already anticipated it.
Everyone possesses a hidden trump card.
At what point do you hide it? Sometimes, that can determine victory or defeat.
Flash.
The shaft of Lac’s axe glowed.
For the first time since the battle began.
Shock.
Swish! A shockwave erupted from the axe blade, striking Berlang’s punch. The shockwave didn’t stop or change the punch, but… it made Berlang’s fist hesitate for a brief moment.
And that brief window was enough.
Getting inside, Lac raised the axe blade.
Slice.
The sound of slicing was smooth.
Berlang’s fist could go no further.
Drip, drip, drip.
Blood gushed forth. Berlang realized the situation too late. Blood dripped from the severed remains of his arm.
“Ugh, ughhh…!”
Lac had hidden a final trump card.
Lac was a Battle Mage.
A magician prepared to use simple spells anytime, ready for real combat.
“First, you are a magician, are you?”
Lac only knew the simplest path.
He had always diligently absorbed knowledge.
This stubbornness sometimes seemed foolish, often attracting ridicule. Yet he persisted in learning. Because he never underestimated anything. He never disregarded any teaching.
“Never forget that you are a magician.”
Lac never forgot what he had learned.
“Ugh, ughh…”
That made the difference in victory.
“AGGGHHHHHHHH!”
Unable to contain the pain, Berlang screamed.
He clutched the severed remnants of his arm with one hand and glared at Lac with bulging eyes. Lac felt no need to indulge that gaze.
Thud!
Lac kicked Berlang’s knee with the tips of his feet.
The sensation of shattering bone was distinctly felt at his toes.
“Ugh!”
Berlang knelt.
Like all Holy Knights, if they lost even one of the two hands they prayed with, they would be unable to use holy magic.
Becomes useless, as… the Warriors say.
Swish!
Lac drove his knee into Berlang’s face.
Thud!
As blood gushed from the crumpled Berlang who had collapsed, Lac strode forward.
“…how savage.”
The Cardinal grimaced and took a step back. Lac didn’t immediately respond to the Cardinal’s words. He looked around the Cardinal instead.
“……”
There were bodies everywhere.
The flowing blood reached Lac’s toes. His eyes grew cold. He wouldn’t look away from the horrific sight. Rather, he took another step forward.
Pause.
The Cardinal no longer stepped back.
That was because there was an altar behind him. From the altar, which was about to be completed, light overflowed.
I cannot let him destroy the altar…
This altar mattered more than his own life.
The Cardinal stopped fleeing and glared at Lac.
“Light, I wish for…”
He couldn’t finish his prayer.
Swish.
Something passed and cut across the Cardinal’s neck.
The Cardinal couldn’t comprehend the situation for a moment. The barbarian before him hadn’t swung his axe. Instead, he was wide-eyed, seemingly startled.
Thud.
Only after a moment did the Cardinal’s head drop into the snowy ground.
In a pool of blood, half of his face pressed into the snow, the Cardinal saw the figure that had severed his neck in his final moments.
Thud.
The Sword Demon.
A ghost walked over his own corpse.
“……Aaah.”
The ghost’s and Lac’s eyes met.
A pair of red eyes and his crimson gaze locked onto each other. Draka slowly raised his sword.
“Are you also going to stop me?”
In that moment, Lac sensed it.
Death was whispering in his ear.
The death that had felt distant now approached him directly.
