Chapter 13: The First Sensation
Walking away from the smoking remains of the cavern was Metsuri, carrying Albion securely back in her arms.
Her pace was steady yet slow—almost comfortable, as if the life-or-death struggle that had just transpired belonged to another world entirely.
In her embrace, Albion sat quietly, his tiny hands still holding his half-finished bottle of goat milk.
'I guess he enjoyed his meal,' Metsuri thought, her hidden expression remaining completely unchanged—calm and stoic.
She recalled how, even during the height of the violence, the infant had simply continued to drink without a single care.
That was when the reality of his situation clicked in her mind.
'Right… he's probably been trapped in that fluid tank his entire life. He's never even tasted real milk before.'
She stopped walking. Her dark gaze lowered to the child. "…Hey, Albion." She gently tapped the glass bottle in his hands. "Do you even know what that is? It's called milk."
"Mmmhmm…!" Albion nodded softly, tilting his head.
Metsuri gave a small nod in return, then paused, trailing off into her own thoughts.
"…Do you even understand what I did back there?" she asked, her voice dropping into a quieter register. She was referring to the execution of the beast.
"Mm… eeh…?" Albion tilted his head in the opposite direction. He gave her no real answer, displaying only innocent confusion.
"I slaughtered that beast because I needed to survive," Metsuri said flatly, her grip on his small frame remaining steady as she spoke. "Nothing more. Nothing complicated. And I feel absolutely no guilt for it."
She paused slightly, calculating her next words.
"The worth… the value of another life… means absolutely nothing to me." Her pitch-black eyes stayed trained forward, cold and unmoving. "If you're weak, you simply become a tool for someone stronger to utilize. That is the first lesson I ever learned."
Silence lingered between them as they neared the cave's threshold. Her voice grew quieter still, almost blending into the rustling leaves outside.
"If you're weak, you can't change a single thing. That is the absolute law every living thing follows… whether they choose to accept it or not."
With that, she resumed her steady stride. She didn't know if Albion could truly process the weight of her words, but she knew one thing for certain:
He wasn't a normal child
.
A human is typically born entirely without understanding. They cannot walk. They cannot speak. Their fragile consciousness has not yet formed into structured thought—existing only as a chaotic rush of sensation and raw instinct.
And yet, they cry. They breathe. They react defensively. The world is not understood by a newborn; it is only experienced in violent, disjointed fragments—cold air biting against sensitive skin, sudden pressure, loud sounds, and the ache of hunger.
Even the trauma of cutting the umbilical cord is not recognized as distinct pain or loss. It is simply an event, and the primitive nervous system responds.
There is no meaning assigned to the universe yet.
As time passes, the physical vessel grows. Their size increases, and their strength follows. Through constant repetition, cognitive patterns begin to form inside the developing mind.
Hunger becomes recognizable, thirst becomes familiar, and physical discomfort gains a sharp definition. Eventually, even control over bodily functions is mastered, piece by piece.
What the world defines as a "human being" is not something instantly present at birth. It is something constructed, built layer by layer through the continuous accumulation of experience.
But Albion was entirely different.
Unlike a normal child, he had never experienced the small, defining milestones that shape a person's identity.
He had never tripped and felt the sudden sting of the dirt floor. He had never tasted something sweet and learned the concept of pleasure on his tongue.
These were not memories he had forgotten; they were concepts he had never known at all.
So when the Vulcan had snatched him earlier, he did not shed a single tear. It wasn't because he was uniquely brave, but because fear was not yet a concept his mind could comprehend.
And yet, despite that blank canvas of a mind, he had still clung desperately to his bottle of milk. Because that taste… that warm sensation… was entirely new.
It was his very first real experience of something existing beyond mere primal survival.
In other words, Albion Ebonveil, at this exact point in his timeline, had only just begun to form his sense of self.
Even now, his fuchsia-colored eyes—soft and red-pink like fading embers—remained fixed directly on Metsuri's cold, black gaze.
He continued to look at her quietly as they finally stepped out of the cavern together.
Arriving outside under the open sky, Metsuri came to a slow stop and scanned the surrounding treeline.
"…I need to get to Darry so I'll have a secure place to stay," she said aloud, speaking more to herself than the infant.
Her expression remained unreadable. The real problem wasn't their destination; it was the logistics of how they would get there.
"I could use Floating Magic to cover the distance through the sky…" she muttered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she calculated her remaining reserves.
But she quickly dismissed the thought. After betraying her clan and abandoning her assignment, conserving every drop of Magic Power was no longer optional—it was a survival strategy.
"…No. I need to conserve my energy." Her gaze shifted downward. "That means I need to prepare properly."
Stepping forward, she gently placed Albion onto a patch of soft grass.
"…Mrr…?" Albion tilted his head up at her, his fuchsia eyes wide with quiet curiosity. He didn't resist her movements, simply watching her every action.
Metsuri stood directly in front of him. Then, slowly, she brought her hands together in a precise, prayer-like formation before her chest, her fingers aligning perfectly in a balanced, symmetrical seal.
Magic power began to gather tightly between her palms—not erratic or wild, but flowing smoothly, as if it had found the exact shape it was meant to obey.
"Six edges, six truths—align and stand eternal. From the frame that none may fracture."
Her voice was calm, low, and steady. A faint, crystalline glow began to bloom between her pressed hands, rapidly spreading outward.
Soft, drifting shapes began to manifest around her silhouette—ethereal white butterflies constructed entirely of pure, condensed light. They were weightless, silent, and luminous, drifting through the forest air like falling starlight.
This was the physical manifestation of her high-density magical aura.
"Bind the space between… unbroken, unmoving." She continued the incantation.
While magic could technically be released through raw, primitive intent alone, structured spells required a highly defined activation method to stabilize and shape the energy.
These methods acted as an exact framework that gave Mahō direction, durability, and consistency.
Across the world, the most common catalysts were Hand Signs and Somatic Control. Many high-level spells required the caster to perform specific hand formations or full-body stances to guide the Mahō through predetermined pathways within the body before release.
"Hexagon Barrier!"
The moment the final activation phrase left her lips, a transparent, geometric barrier erupted into existence around Albion.
Six perfect, interlocking sides formed a seamless defensive shell, locking into place with microscopic alignment. Faint lines of white light traced each sharp edge, reinforcing the structure as it completely stabilized.
Certain advanced spells required this spoken activation in the form of incantations—structured phrases that had to be recited flawlessly to achieve full output.
"That should keep you safe," Metsuri said, exhaling a breath as the light-butterflies faded into mist around her shoulders. "I don't need you wandering off the moment my back is turned."
She turned around to survey the path ahead, but froze instantly.
Something monstrous was blocking her way.
Standing directly before her was a bipedal, octopus-shaped magical beast, towering a massive 3 meters in height.
It didn't slither or float like a marine creature should; it stood firmly on two legs. Its body was a grotesque fusion of humanoid musculature and deep-sea aberration.
Dull gray and dark blue tones coated its thick hide like layers of cold oceanic sediment, looking as though it had been dragged straight out of the Abyssal Zone where light had never reached.
Its lower body was heavily muscled, built with an unnatural land-dwelling balance. Two powerful legs ended in wide, webbed feet planted firmly against the earth. Its torso was compact and dense, built to withstand crushing pressures and heavy impacts.
From its upper torso extended two thick, elongated arms—humanoid in placement, but far too heavy and strong for natural proportions. They hung with a controlled weight, like massive clubs waiting for a reason to swing.
Where a human head should have been, its form twisted into a distorted fusion of skull and cephalopod architecture.
Subtle, fleshy tentacle appendages curled from the sides of its jaw, twitching faintly as they tasted the scents in the air.
Metsuri let out a quiet, thoroughly exhausted sigh. "…And who exactly are you supposed to be?"
"Blrrrghhh… glorp… glorp…" the beast gurgled, a strange, wet series of sounds echoing from its throat.
Metsuri's expression didn't waver. Without even sparing the creature another glance, she turned around and fluidly scooped Albion up.
'This one's brain isn't as developed as the Vulcan's,' she analyzed.
Balancing Albion—who was still safely encased within the glowing hexagonal barrier—directly on the top of her boot, she snapped her leg upward in a controlled kick.
Albion shot high into the air, completely protected. Then, his upward momentum ceased, and he remained suspended several meters above the tree line, floating effortlessly. It was, of course, the work of her active Floating Magic.
Metsuri slowly turned her body back toward the aquatic creature.
'Even so, my number one priority right now is keeping Albion unharmed. If he gets killed here, my long-term plans go up in smoke.'
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
'If possible, I'll avoid an unneeded skirmish.'
Despite her lethal training, Metsuri didn't actively enjoy killing. She didn't hate it either, but she wasn't a sadist who sought out slaughter for cheap pleasure.
At least… that's what she chose to believe about herself.
"Hey. You," she called out calmly, her dark eyes meeting the creature's glossy stare. "Do you understand human speech?"
The beast merely gurgled.
"If you do, then listen carefully." She raised her hand, pointing a single finger directly upward. "My only priority is protecting the package above us."
The beast's eyes followed her gesture. Its heavy head tilted back, landing on the floating infant who was quietly staring down from within his glowing geometric shell.
The monster then looked back down at her.
"The only reason I slaughtered that Vulcan earlier was because it took him hostage," Metsuri continued, her tone completely flat and honest. She raised both of her hands slightly in a universal gesture of surrender. "So if you'd just step aside and let us pass… I'd highly appreciate it."
A faint, forced smile touched her lips.
The creature tilted its head sideways. "tkk… tkk… wrrrl?"
An awkward, heavy silence lingered over the clearing. The beast made no movement to step aside.
Then, without a shred of warning, its muscular legs bent deeply. The ground beneath its webbed feet cracked under the sudden pressure.
"GGRRRAAAALLLP!!!" It exploded forward, launching into a full, aggressive charge.
"…Yeah," Metsuri sighed heavily, her forced smile vanishing. "I figured as much."
Her posture lowered instantly, her weight shifting. "I'll just have to visually show you the difference between our levels."
Within the blink of an eye, the aberration closed the distance. Its massive, waterlogged fists came crashing down, one after the other.
Each heavy strike slammed into the earth with crushing kinetic force, shattering the soil and sending jagged debris bursting outward.
The barrage didn't stop—it intensified into a relentless storm of blows that rapidly carved a widening crater beneath its feet. By sheer physical, muscular strength alone, this creature vastly surpassed the raw power of the Vulcan.
After a prolonged assault, the dust finally settled. The beast stood panting, staring into the heavy haze, waiting to see its crushed prey.
"Sesshoku-zan."
SKLCH!
In a single fraction of a second, a series of thin, perfectly precise lacerations carved across both of the beast's arms and hands.
The monster recoiled violently, a heavy spray of blood spilling freely from the wounds and splattering against the broken ground. It froze in utter confusion; it hadn't detected her movement at all.
Was Metsuri truly just that fast?
"Do you see it now?" her cold voice drifted from within the thick dust cloud.
The creature's head snapped toward the sound. Metsuri stepped forward, emerging from the haze completely unscathed.
"It doesn't matter if you can hit harder than a landslide," her black eyes locked onto its face, dull and freezing. "You still possess zero chance of beating me."
She casually brushed a layer of dirt off her white shoulder cloak, clicking her tongue in genuine annoyance. "…Tch. I literally just stole these clothes."
"Gluuuurrrk… tch… tch… tch…" The beast clicked its tongue-like appendages in pure irritation.
Slowly, it turned its torso away from Metsuri and stomped toward a massive, deep-rooted tree at the edge of the clearing.
Its bleeding hands wrapped tightly around the thick trunk. With a guttural, strained groan, it yanked backward. The earth shattered as the massive tree was ripped clean from its roots.
Hoisting the trunk in both elongated arms like a crude, colossal club, it slowly turned back around to face her.
Metsuri rolled her eyes toward the sky. "…You animals just never learn." A tired sigh slipped from her lips.
She really did complain a lot.
The beast tightened its grip on the bark. "KRRAAAL-CHKKK!!!" With a violent, wet roar, it charged again.
The massive tree swung in a wide, lethal arc, cutting through the air like a battering ram aimed directly at Metsuri's skull.
It was meant to be a crushing, definitive blow to send her broken body flying through the forest.
Instead, the impact shattered the tree entirely.
The heavy section of wood that struck Metsuri's frame exploded into millions of flying splinters, breaking apart on contact as if it had slammed directly into an absolute, localized field of solid iron.
"KKRRK!? …GLORRRGH—!" The beast froze mid-swing, completely stunned.
Instinct overtaking its confusion, it leaped backward through the air. While airborne, it adjusted its grip on the remaining fragment of the trunk and hurled it forward with all its might.
The broken mass spun through the air like a massive kinetic projectile.
"This is such a chore…" Metsuri dropped her stance slightly. "When are you going to realize you physically cannot harm me… and just forfeit?"
"Suntetsu." Her ninjatō flashed from her hip.
SKRRRSH!
A compressed, crescent-shaped blade of white energy erupted from her draw, slicing through the incoming tree trunk with surgical, geometric precision.
The wood split instantly—not merely into halves, but into dozens of sharp, fragmented splinters that scattered mid-air like a storm of arrows.
In that exact same motion, Metsuri exploded into a forward dash, her body blurring past the falling debris.
She appeared directly in front of the collapsing shards, stepping through the gaps as if she knew the exact trajectory of every falling piece.
Her boot snapped upward in a vicious kick, striking one of the heavy wooden splinters flush. She twisted her body fluidly, avoiding the remaining shards as they stabbed harmlessly into the dirt around her heels.
The single launched fragment shot forward like a high-caliber bullet, striking the beast the exact moment its feet touched the ground.
"GRRRAAAH—!!"
The jagged wooden shard pierced deep into its abdomen. Thick blood spilled out instantly as the sheer kinetic impact forced a roar of pure agony from its throat.
The massive creature staggered, dropping heavily to one knee as a pool of dark blood seeped into the cracked earth beneath its weight.
Without a second of hesitation, the beast yanked the splinter out of its flesh. It hissed through its teeth, forcing its free hand against the open wound, pressing inward with immense pressure to keep its internal organs from spilling out.
But even under such trauma, it endured.
"You'll bleed to death at this rate," Metsuri said, her voice entirely flat as she sheared her blade back into its scathe. "Blame your own primitive arrogance."
The beast responded with a low, vibrating growl. Then, it raised its free, webbed hand toward her.
A sphere of pure white light began to manifest rapidly above its palm—bright, highly volatile, and heavily compressed with dense magical power.
Without warning, it detonated the blast. A beam of concentrated light shot forward in a perfectly straight line, tearing through the atmosphere.
Metsuri clicked her tongue softly, simply stepping a single inch to the side. The beam struck the earth exactly where she had stood a millisecond prior.
BOOM!
A violent explosion erupted, sending a cloud of scorching debris into the air. Metsuri rolled smoothly across the dirt, sliding into a perfectly balanced low crouch.
'…It can use Light Magic?' Her eyes narrowed slightly under her hood. 'The exact same attribute as my own raw energy.'
"KRAAAL-CHKKK!!!" the beast roared again.
Another sphere of white light formed, but this time, the creature intentionally fractured the cast mid-flight.
Instead of a single, concentrated beam, the magic split into multiple separate rays of concentrated light, fanning outward like a volley of glowing spears.
All of them locked directly onto Metsuri's coordinates and fired simultaneously.
Metsuri exhaled a soft breath. She tapped her boot once against the ground.
"Glass Barrier." A transparent, rectangular wall resembling thick glass surged upward from the earth directly in front of her stance.
The fractured rays of light struck the surface, colliding with a loud hum before scattering harmlessly into the trees, unable to penetrate a single millimeter of the boundary.
"Did your primitive brain truly believe I only mastered a single barrier spell?" Metsuri didn't even wait for a response.
The glass wall slowly sank back into the soil, dissolving as if it had never existed.
She walked forward with measured steps. "I should have just slaughtered you from the very beginning," her voice dropped into a chilling register. "There is absolutely no point in attempting to reason with a beast."
Her killing intent was now absolute. This skirmish was ending the exact same way the Vulcan had fallen.
The creature seemed to sense the sudden shift in the atmosphere; its entire muscular body tensed up.
Then, it inhaled deeply, pulling a massive volume of air into its chest as if it were swallowing the entire atmosphere.
"GGRRRAAAALLLP!!!"
A deafening scream erupted from its throat, a visible shockwave exploding outward and shaking the surrounding trees.
'…A localized war cry?' Metsuri observed coldly, her forward steps never slowing. 'It means nothing.'
In the blink of an eye, she vanished entirely from the path. She materialized directly in front of its face, mid-scream.
"I'll utilize this variation," her eyes sharpened to a lethal point. "Since it's a strict, close-range execution technique. Best used when I require bypassing a target's internal durability entirely."
"Sesshoku-zan." With a simple, fluid motion—a single, elegant swing of her bare arm—
SKLCH!
Absolute silence fell over the clearing.
A second later, the beast's massive 3-meter body didn't merely fall—it split into perfect, uniform cubes. Clean, precise, utterly unnatural geometric cuts divided its flesh into countless fragments, scattering what remained of its biological form across the grass in a silent, violent collapse.
"This is the natural conclusion… when you are weak," Metsuri stated, staring down at the pile of diced flesh without a shred of emotion.
Then, the fragments ignited.
Highly compressed white flames erupted across the scattered pieces, rapidly consuming every ounce of flesh until nothing remained but drifting gray ash and a column of white smoke.
"And that's that," she exhaled lightly, tilting her head back toward the sky. "I should probably bring Albion back down now."
Quake.
Quake.
Quake.
Slow, immensely heavy footsteps began to approach the clearing from all directions. The very ground trembled with each massive impact.
Metsuri's gaze sharpened instantly as she turned her body around. Out from the dense foliage of the surrounding forest, several massive, towering silhouettes emerged.
Each one stood at least 15 meters in height—humanoid in shape, but far more distorted, muscular, and imposing than anything she had faced so far.
"…I don't understand," Metsuri's voice lowered into a dangerous whisper. "Where did this many high-tier beasts even come from?"
Then, the tactical realization struck her.
"…The acoustic war cry from before." Her eyes narrowed at the giants. "…Was that a wide-range reinforcement signal?"
One by one, the 15-meter titans advanced, slowly closing the perimeter around her. Metsuri reached up, pulling her black cloth mantle higher to partially cover her lower face once more.
A quiet, annoyed sigh escaped her mask. "…Now the entire forest itself is deemed a threat." She glared at the approaching wall of monsters. "What a massive pain."
The battle between the rogue kunoichi and the wild beasts of Fiore was far from over.