Chapter 8
The Forest of Fire. Bursting forth with blue lightning. A battlefield full of blood and screams. The sharp sounds of iron.
All of that suddenly falls silent.
The arrival of one man caused every element on the battlefield to freeze momentarily.
The single sharp longsword at his waist, and the countless daggers hidden inside his coat indirectly spoke of this man’s profession.
However, even though the man was a warrior who had stepped onto the battlefield, he wasn’t wearing any armor. But no one on this battlefield dared to worry for this man who arrived with his white robes billowing in the wind.
Sword Saint.
The two simple yet old-fashioned characters had appeared on the battlefield.
“That’s enough.”
A plain word from the Sword Saint, and the Grand Marshal’s arm holding the boy by the neck was severed. Toxic black blood gushed out like a fountain.
Unquestionably standing amidst the middle of the forest path only moments ago, the Sword Saint now swung his moonlit sword and, almost as suddenly, gently landed with the falling boy cradled in his arms along the roadside.
“…I thought you’d take longer. It hasn’t even been a minute twenty seconds, has it?”
“I had a task nearby. Guess your luck ran out.”
The Grand Marshal grimaced, flapping his wings. The areas struck by the boy’s lightning had long since regenerated with new skin.
“Where are the others, boy…?! You came alone?”
The Grand Marshal, seemingly acquainted with the Sword Saint, asked about his companions with a menacing look.
“They’re slow-footed. I arrived first. Do you want to exchange pleasantries after all this time?”
Having placed the boy gently on the side of the road, the Sword Saint twisted his body mid-air and pointed a silver longsword at the Grand Marshal’s neck.
“I’ll take your head first, then grant everyone the formalities of an introduction. So, don’t be too hurt.”
The Sword Saint propelled himself through the air as if it were natural.
Grand Marshal Maltiel, showing his annoyance, twisted his wings to alter his course through the air.
Boom!
Maltiel’s wings were torn, and the Sword Saint landed on the ground. The earth around where he set foot had cracked, forming a crater as though struck by a meteorite.
Tsk…
Maltiel alternated his gaze between the boy surrounded by soldiers and the Sword Saint slowly rising from the ground. Then, with regret, he flew higher into the sky.
‘A one-on-one fight with the Sword Saint is a losing battle. There’s also the possibility that this white-haired one, a 7th Tier Mage, regains consciousness and joins the fray.’
It’s indeed regrettable that he couldn’t kill the mage who’s destined to grow into a great creature here.
‘…I must accept. My only option now is retreat.’
But if Maltiel were to recklessly persist here, not only would he fail to kill the white-haired boy, he would also likely forfeit his life to humans without inflicting any damage.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Of course, there was no way the Sword Saint would let the Grand Marshal escape unwatched.
A throwing dagger suddenly pierced the wings of Maltiel, who hovered high in the thin air.
It was one of the many daggers hidden in the Sword Saint’s leather coat, drawn in a perfect straight line through the air.
Maltiel wavered momentarily in the air, and the Sword Saint seized the opportunity to launch himself from the ground with a powerful leap.
Above the newly created crater, an even larger crater formed.
As the Sword Saint leaped, tremors spread through the surrounding land.
Trees screamed and fell, their giant roots exposed. The mutated archers perched among the branches of the massive trees fell helplessly, like acorns at harvest time.
Swish—
The Grand Marshal’s head was cleanly severed from his body.
“…You’re annoying.”
Even without a head, the Grand Marshal lived on. Spinal bones rapidly regenerated from the severed neck, flesh swelling until a brand new body formed.
Maltiel’s gaze shifted; instead of focusing on the Sword Saint twisting his body mid-air to strike again, he looked down at the ground.
There, the white-haired mage lay unconscious, as if having expended all his strength. Soldiers stood in battle formation to defend him, fighting countless mutants.
“Awaken!”
At his urgent cry, cracks formed in the ground below.
Huge tentacles emerged from beneath the soil.
A massive hybrid of an ancient tree and an orc revealed itself on the battlefield.
The mutants wielded the massive tentacles like whips and began to lash out against the tightly arrayed army.
“…This is disgraceful.”
“Wise choice, you idiot.”
With an unpleasant smile, the Grand Marshal flapped his newly grown wings to escape.
The Sword Saint alternated his gaze between the retreating Grand Marshal and the massive mutant, and the army on the verge of annihilation.
Grand Marshal Maltiel, revealed after three years of absence.
If the Grand Marshal were to be killed, countless Marauders would be left nonfunctional. The number of humans under Maltiel’s command who had already been slain likely exceeded hundreds of thousands.
Thus, capturing the Grand Marshal equated to saving hundreds of thousands of future victims.
Though the imminent deaths of those below were sorrowful, the broader perspective dictated that pursuing the Grand Marshal, who hadn’t surfaced in three years, took precedence over saving their immediate lives.
The Sword Saint knew this better than anyone.
Knew it better than anyone—but—
Swish—
A huge tentacle split into two with a cold sound.
“…Everyone, take cover behind me.”
He wasn’t the kind of person who could abandon those currently dying to save those who might die tomorrow.
“All troops! Rise! Fight! Die!”
As the Grand Marshal’s distant words echoed, cracks began to emerge beneath the earth where the Sword Saint stood.
Countless giant trees toppled, and large and small mutants emerged from between their roots.
“The wounded focus exclusively on healing. I’ll take care of all the threats.”
“…But the Grand Marshal—“
A one-armed Orc, Rex, shouted, staring at the sky now dotted with stars.
Every soldier present was willing to sacrifice their own life if it meant cutting off the Grand Marshal’s head.
They had witnessed neighbors mutilated by mutants and wives transformed into twisted aberrations by Marauders.
“Shut up. I already know.”
The Sword Saint replied sharply, as if he didn’t approve of his own decision.
The one most tormented by this foolish choice was the Sword Saint himself.
“Just relax and let things take their course.”
Concluding his statement, the Sword Saint slowly raised the sword in his hand.
*
I slowly opened my eyes, unable to withstand the faint rays of dawn.
My waist screamed in agony as if being torn apart, my temples throbbed, and my arms and legs were swathed with splints I didn’t remember putting on. Tight bindings on my head suggested I also had bandages there, though I couldn’t recall how they got there.
I no longer remembered the exact moment I lost consciousness.
Meeting the Grand Marshal… I recalled being cornered in a deadly situation, followed by hearing the Sword Saint’s voice… but what had transpired afterward?
As my vision gradually cleared, I cautiously rose and looked around.
“…Damn.”
The scene around me warranted foul language.
The world was painted in colorful hues of blood.
The towering ancient trees, soaked in flames and venomous blood, lay charred and toppled. Among the fallen trees, heaps of unidentifiable lumps of flesh were piled high.
Backbone the size of a house stood upright like a flag in the middle of the road, and colossal hammers and blades scattered around, their origins unimaginable.
“Are you awake?”
As I stared in awe at the ravaged forest, a familiar voice reached my ears.
Turned to the source, there stood the Sword Saint.
The sole character among all in the game who had a level surpassing three digits, appearing only in end-game boss raids against Demon Kings—a hero from the coalition forces, and the strongest human in this world.
“I’ve heard about your feats. Incredible talent for such a young age. You truly faced the Grand Marshal head-on.”
“Head-on? That’s incorrect. It was just good fortune.”
I politely dispelled the Sword Saint’s misunderstanding. I merely ran to bide time and boasted a bit to intimidate.
Going head-to-head with him? Who’s saying such insane nonsense?
“Rex has already told me everything. While humility is important, you need not twist the truth.”
…No, Rex exaggerated things, sir. Why have you also bought into this?
“The Grand Marshal targeted only you and raided this place, is that right? Is Rex’s account accurate?”
“…Um, yes, that’s correct.”
“You stood against the Grand Marshal one-on-one, and survived with all your limbs intact.”
“…Yes, that’s also true.”
“Rex claims you’re a 7th Tier High Mage. Is this also true?”
“That is false. I barely have enough mana to reach 4th Tier.”
After testing dozens of times through the computer screen, characters with a mana stat reaching 20 were evaluated as 4th Tier Mages immediately upon creation.
So, it’s likely due to that misunderstanding.
“I’ve never trained at a Magic Tower, nor formally learned magic. I don’t know how to properly enhance or control the mana within me.”
“…What?”
The Sword Saint frowned in surprise at my definitive answer, then adopted a serious expression, stroking his chin while circling around.
‘Disappointing, a 7th Tier Mage at this age would be a power on par with national leaders.’
It seems Rex eavesdropped on our conversation with the Grand Marshal and reported it thus.
Regretfully, I am but a fledgling mage born just four days ago.
An especially eccentric one.
I am not what you think I am, so please stop bothering me.
I need to quickly go to the Magic Tower and train, to grow strong enough to protect myself.
“You will come with me to the royal palace as the dawn breaks.”
“Eh?”
What?
“Infinite potential, indeed. A barely 4th Tier novice mage going toe-to-toe with a Grand Marshal… and without proper education? I don’t know where monsters like you come from, but this must be reported to His Majesty the Emperor and the Kings of the three allied nations.”
“…What?! Emperor? Kings of the allied nations?”
“Do you know basic etiquette? You’ll embarrass yourself before the Emperor and the Kings, so I’ll teach you the essentials now.”
…What is this guy even talking about?
