LUCIUS
Damn it... I knew S-ranked beasts were strong. I've heard the stories—the kind that pass from the trembling lips of old adventurers or half-burned knights over drinks they didn't finish. But this… this was something else entirely. There's a reason even elite squads avoid them unless absolutely necessary. Alone? It's suicide. These monsters aren't just strong—they're smart, unpredictable, and worst of all, adaptive.
The pain from that last punch still echoed through my chest like a drumbeat. My armor—what was left of it—was hanging in torn, cracked pieces. The chest plate was practically caved in. If it weren't for my subtle mana cushioning just before the impact, my ribs would've been a shattered mess.
I gritted my teeth. The injury wasn't fatal, just enough to remind me how far from human this thing really was. Unlike me, though, my opponent wasn't doing so well. Blood—thick, dark, and steaming—dripped in slow trails from the open gash along its ribcage. The beast's massive, scaled hand occasionally brushed over it, trying to conceal it, protect it. Its posture shifted slightly every few seconds, movements subtle and off-beat—an instinctual effort to guard the wound without betraying weakness. But I saw through it. I always do.
As for the poison I'd laced into the first few hits?
Useless.
Now I understood why most experienced adventurers don't bother with it on S-ranks. Their resistance is too damn high. The concoction I used could melt the lungs of a drake, and this thing barely blinked.
The beast was watching me differently now—its focus sharp, primal caution in its eyes. It was no longer recklessly charging in with that arrogant brutality. It knew I was a threat. I saw it roll its shoulders, crack its massive knuckles, even tilt its neck with a sound like splintering bone. Then, it crouched slightly—coiled to strike again, yet its presence felt more... measured. As if it were taking me seriously now.
"Oh? So now you think I'm worthy of your attention?" I murmured under my breath, a grim smirk tugging at the corner of my lip. My fingers tightened around my sword hilt. "Fine then. I'll show you why even the gods will envy the power I carry."
A shiver ran through the air. The beast must've sensed something—a shift in mana pressure, a pulse of something ancient and heavy. Without hesitation, it sprang forward, and this time the earth cracked beneath its landing. Its speed was even greater now, a blur of violence crashing down toward me with renewed savagery.
Newly formed blackened scales rippled across its upper body, particularly the shoulders, back, and torso. They looked dense—dense enough that even enhanced weapons might have trouble cutting through. Just looking at them from a distance, I could feel how they shimmered with reinforced mana threads, like steel hardened under divine fire.
Every blow it delivered came with deadly intent. Roars that fractured stone. Swings that carried the force of battering rams. Kicks that nearly bent the very air. It wasn't just faster and stronger—it was precise. Controlled.
No A+ ranked hunter could've survived this barrage.
And yet—I did.
To the untrained eye, this battle would look like a high-speed projection—one of those hologram illusions where everything moves too fast, too blurred, to follow. A storm of motion where the beast blurred into streaks of shadow and scale, and I... I danced between each strike. Barely. Efficiently. Calculated.
I could hear my breath in rhythm with the blade, feel every vibration of the ground, every twitch in the air as it carved toward me. My eyes locked onto its patterns. I adapted. Dodged. Parried where I had to, let others slide past my armorless limbs by fractions.
Then—
"HALT."
I whispered the word like a command to the world itself. And the mana obeyed.
For a moment—just a fleeting, breathless instant—the incoming strike slowed in mid-air. The beast's massive fist dragged through the atmosphere as if it had suddenly plunged underwater. Time didn't freeze, but the resistance surged—enough for me to slip just out of range.
The beast snarled, sensing something it couldn't see. It wasn't pure—not in the traditional sense. This was different. A phenomenon I still couldn't fully name. Something innate, perhaps woven into my existence rather than learned. It disrupted mana itself, bent it slightly off course. It wasn't permanent, or even consistent, but in the hands of someone with my senses... it was enough.
The barrage resumed, but slower now, more predictable. My senses, honed and heightened beyond those of most elite adventurers, allowed me to adjust. I dodged again.
A flash of steel. A blur of motion.
The beast roared and surged toward me again, its dual blades out, crossing in a scissor strike aimed for my center. I didn't block.
Instead, I focused.
"REPEL."
The word pulsed through my bones. My left foot grounded with purpose. My dominant arm extended, not to block, not to strike—but to push.
A ripple of invisible force erupted from me. The beast's advance halted as if caught in a gustless wave, stumbling backward several steps from the push. It didn't make sense to it. That was the best part.
Telekinesis.
An ability to manipulate force without physical contact. Rare. Unstable. And for me, deeply personal. One I didn't discover through a scroll or training. It came during a moment of desperation—years ago. Under the brutal guidance of the one man who understood what I was, even when I didn't.
My true nature.
The beast looked confused—its humanoid features scrunched into an almost humanlike scowl. It knew something was off. Its intelligence was high enough to feel that whatever I just did wasn't a spell, or even conventional magic. But its mind couldn't comprehend it. That was its weakness.
I didn't need it to understand.
I just needed it to bleed.
Its feet slammed down again, cracking the earth, sending tremors through the soil beneath me. I felt the vibrations rise up through my soles. And then it came again—every strike more vicious, more focused. The dual blades sang through the air, parried by my own weapon with increasing difficulty.
I gritted my teeth. My single-blade technique wasn't enough anymore, not against this. I needed more power, more edge. Literally.
My hand brushed the mana-bound ring on my right index finger, sending a pulse of energy into it. In response, the seal broke.
With a low hum and a flicker of crimson light, Rare Death materialized in my hand—a greatsword forged from forgotten wars, pulsing with an ominous aura. The twin to Crimson Ultima in both power and hunger.
The blade resonated with me the moment I held it, a heat crawling up my arm, threading into my bloodstream. My mana surged with its presence, and for a heartbeat, I felt our bond click into place.
One blade wasn't enough. But two?
Two would do just fine.
The beast paused, watching me switch swords, noting the change in aura. It wasn't mindless—it was waiting. Calculating. Despite its fury, it had learned enough in this short fight to know when to lunge and when to let its prey burn itself out.
Fine.
Let it wait.
Because when I struck next, there'd be nothing left to wait for.
ZUPP!
The beast took charge—massive, relentless—and I matched its charge without hesitation. It wanted a straight brawl? Fine. I'd give it one.
"Fine, I'll take you head on!" I roared, mana flooding my limbs as I lunged forward.
The first real collision came like thunder. A thunder no sky could match.
Steel met scale. Bone cracked against tempered force. Blow after blow, neither of us backed down. The earth beneath us fractured violently, giving birth to overlapping craters with every impact. Trees bent backward, their roots exposed, groaning as shockwaves pushed them away. Mana howled in the air, snapping like lightning arcs between our clashes, each exchange sending out shock pulses and miniature explosions.
My blade sang in my hands, and with each strike, I read the movements, felt the tension, calculated the angles. But this was a Valgura. S-ranked. Massive, intelligent, reinforced by layers of hardened mana and evolving scale armor. Telekinesis let me distort its movement—but only for a second, maybe less. Its own mana and the ambient nature mana pushed back against my command.
And then—wham.
I was forced back again, boots dragging deep trails through shattered stone, lungs burning from the pressure. The sheer size and weight of that beast… it wasn't just about strength. It was built to dominate. Built to hunt.
As it swung a vicious kick aimed straight for my gut, I twisted, slamming Crimson Ultima's blade downward. The reinforced edge caught the beast's leg mid-swing, stopping it just in time. But that was the trap.
"Got you," I whispered.
I didn't resist—I pulled.
Telekinesis wrapped around the Valgura's body like invisible chains, and I yanked it forward toward the waiting blade. The monster was too late to stop its momentum. With one clean arc, I sliced deep across the sole of its foot, forcing a grunt from its throat as blood spilled and muscle tore.
It stumbled—good.
The ground cracked beneath it as it tried to regain footing, relying on its injured leg. But then I saw it—an uprooted tree, huge, its lower trunk still thick with dirt and roots.
Perfect.
With another burst of focus, I wrenched the lower portion of the tree with telekinesis and slammed it into the beast's side. The Valgura didn't even see it coming.
CRACK.
The impact was deafening.
The tree splintered into a thousand pieces against its body. For a moment, silence followed.
Then—"....?"
Shit.
Blood trickled from my nose. Not a cut. Not external. Internal.
Mental strain.
Too much, too fast.
Telekinesis isn't like the elemental gifts others flaunt. It's not anchored to the mana core. Not directly, at least. My master said it connects to something deeper—something older. While I still need my core to activate it, it doesn't run through it. It's raw will.
But it comes at a price.
Pain spiked behind my eyes. My thoughts frayed like torn silk. My balance wavered. My focus? Already slipping.
The beast roared and took a shaky step back. The impact bruised its entire arm, but it had absorbed the hit… with its bare limb.
'It used its pumped-up arm to block instead of its comparatively thin blades… if it had lowered its defense, the shards would've pierced its torso. That's not instinct. That's calculation.'
This thing wasn't just strong. It was learning.
It paced back slowly now, huffing. I mirrored it, blood at the corners of my mouth, vision buzzing. It was enduring physical wounds. I was suffering psychic ones.
Every use of my ability burned more than just my mana and stamina. It clouded my senses, made the world spin, made precision harder.
'I have to end this. Now.'
With a deep breath, I surged forward, blades drawn—Rare Death humming with crimson static and Crimson Ultima glowing with that familiar deep blue light. The Valgura held position, weapon up, its posture flawless—baiting me.
I accepted.
Just before contact, it swung—a brutal arc aiming to take my arm clean off.
But I lunged sideways, ducking low, sliding across shattered stone. The blade missed me by a hair's width. Behind the beast was a partially buried boulder—perfect size, perfect position.
I didn't hesitate.
I commanded the earth to obey. Mana flooded through my spine and surged into the ground.
"RISE."
The boulder shuddered, lifting from the dirt with a horrible groan. But the strain was unbearable.
'Shit—! Come on—come ON!'
The beast adjusted, blade raised, thrusting downward. My back was nearly touching the ground, its weapon already mid-arc—
"ATTRACT!"
The boulder flew—timed to perfection—and smashed into its back like the fist of a forgotten god.
BOOM.
Rock shattered. Stone embedded deeper into the wound I'd left earlier. The Valgura screamed, a roar of agony that sent birds scattering from miles away.
I hit the ground hard, trying to rise—
Too slow.
It grabbed me.
Its hand clamped around my neck like a vice. Even with telekinesis trying to slow its grip, it was too fast, too strong. It slammed me into the earth, the impact sending up a shockwave, then lifted me and delivered a punch into my chest that I felt in my soul.
CRACK.
I don't even know if that was bone or ground.
Blood exploded from my mouth, unbidden, painting the air in red. The sheer power behind that blow forced everything out of me—breath, sound, thought.
I flew again—this time across the battlefield.
No trees to break the fall. No branches to slow the flight.
Only jagged stone pillars.
And they weren't going to be kind.