Chapter 113

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Beyond the World, Outland (7)

8th circle spell, Fluctuation.

Eight fiery rings rotated fiercely. The sparks from the friction of the rings turned into fireworks, painting the sky red. From the moment the witch gestured, the sky was no longer blue or black.

Only red.

A harsh, unrelenting red filled the sky.

The sky, dyed blood red and seeming ready to melt at any moment, made Najin chuckle. Merlin was right. This was not an enemy he could face right now.

How should he confront it?

How should he defend against it?

How should he evade it?

Nothing came to mind. Even with the ability to foresee a short future, he couldn’t think of a way. Even pulling out Excalibur wouldn’t change the situation. Before the flames that could burn both heaven and earth, Najin was powerless.

‘This is transcendence. This is a witch.’

The witch standing alone under the red sky.

Facing a transcendent who stood in a realm he could never reach at this moment, Najin laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of madness or hysteria.

It was a sneer. A derisive laugh.

Is this the realm you reached after carving away a thousand years? Did a thousand years place you in that position? Yes, I acknowledge it. You are overwhelming. Right now, I can’t see any way to reach you.

But…

“You’re not much.”

That’s just for now.

Don’t think your thousand years will last forever. It only took 18 years to hold your thousand years for 15 minutes.

-Yes, that’s it.

Merlin’s laughter.

And the sound of someone kicking off the ground. Listening to that sound, Najin smiled.

Najin had lost to the witch. His sword had not touched her, nor had he made her shed a drop of blood. It was a complete defeat, but it was not meaningless.

15 minutes. The time promised to Gillet.

During that time, Najin had drawn the witch’s attention, endured her gestures, and ultimately bought time. The time Najin bought was not in vain.

Screech.

Someone who would give meaning to that time appeared on the battlefield. With a quiet slicing sound, a line was drawn between Najin and the witch. A single line, along which a storm surged, pushing away the heat.

Then, thud.

Someone stepped into the battlefield between Najin and the witch. The step was light, but the presence was heavy. The moment the man appeared, the tilted scales balanced instantly.

Sword Master of the Forgotten Kingdom, Kirchhoff.

To face a transcendent, one must be a transcendent.

A superhuman who reached transcendence with a single sword had arrived on the battlefield.

Three hundred years ago, a country was destroyed by a fallen star. The destruction was silent, and the very existence of that country faded from people’s memories. Such was the power of the star involved in the destruction.

Oblivion and Erasure.

A star with such powers destroyed a nation, wishing for its existence to vanish without a trace from the world. Normally, that wish would have been fulfilled.

Memory, evidence, and trace.

All should have disappeared.

However, the star’s wish was only half-fulfilled.

The world forgot that the country had existed, but evidence of its existence did not vanish from history. Thus, the world remembered the country’s existence through records and history.

The forgotten country’s name was Londinel.

The Forgotten Kingdom, Londinel.

The records of Londinel were not completely erased because they were not regarded as mere fiction. This was all due to the existence of one man.

Sword Master of the Forgotten Kingdom, Kirchhoff.

The sole survivor of Londinel and the living proof that Londinel had existed. A Sword Master who, by wielding his sword, informed the world of that fact.

“It’s been a while, witch.”

Kirchhoff, who intervened in the battlefield, curled his lips into a smile. Najin, seeing the back of the man who appeared before him, instinctively realized that this was the ‘Kirchhoff’ Gillet had mentioned.

“…Kirchhoff.”

Ermina, the Flickering Witch, frowned. She wrinkled her face and spat out the words.

“Get lost. My business is not with you but with that insolent brat standing behind you.”

“I don’t want to meddle in a fight, but… well, that’s what battlefields are for, isn’t it?”

Kirchhoff raised his sword.

His eyes narrowed for a moment.

“And I always have business with you, Ermina. You know that, don’t you?”

The witch said no more.

Clicking her tongue, she snapped her fingers. As her middle and thumb collided with a ‘snap’, the red sky fell.

Fluctuation, the flame that extinguishes starlight.

Only then did Najin realize that the sky wasn’t simply dyed red; the flames had covered the sky. The sight of flames falling from the sky was both mysterious and grotesque.

“A rough welcome.”

Under the falling sky.

Kirchhoff merely raised his sword. As he steadied his stance, he turned to look back.

“Hey, boy.”

“…Yes?”

“Save your thanks for later. Run. I can’t fight while protecting you.”

“Well, I’d like to, but…”

Najin gave a bitter laugh.

“My body won’t move, unfortunately.”

He had pushed his body beyond its limits. His body had reached its limit long ago, and with numerous flame arrows embedded in him, even moving a finger was a struggle.

“Seems like you won’t need to worry about that.”

Kirchhoff smiled.

Najin soon understood the meaning of that smile. With a clinking sound, a chain flew in from somewhere and wrapped around his arm.

Whip!

The chain tightened and pulled Najin’s body back. The place he was dragged to was where the chain unit, which had survived the battle with the witch, and its commander, Gillet, were.

“Retreat, retreat!”

Gillet started running, carrying Najin on his back. He aimed to get as far away from this battlefield as possible. As he was carried on Gillet’s back, Najin looked back.

There was the battle of the transcendent.

There was the realm he must someday reach.

Najin watched the swordsman swinging his sword at the flames covering the sky. With wide eyes, he watched the transcendent swordsman swing his sword.

Screech.

Kirchhoff swung his sword, and a single line of sword energy split the sky-high flames. As the split flames rushed to fill the empty space, he swung his sword again.

Each time he swung his sword, a line was drawn.

The lines crossed and connected.

With each swing, a storm raged. With each line he drew, the flames split, and the heat was pushed back. Each time the sword advanced an inch, the red sky retreated an inch.

‘…Ah.’

Najin groaned.

There was a swordsman who, alone, sliced through the flames covering the sky. A transcendent, untouched by anything, stood in the realm he must someday surpass.

Someday.

Certainly, in the not-so-distant future.

The battlefield he must face again.

For now, unable to stand on that battlefield, Najin only etched the battle into his eyes. He wanted to remember the raging storm, the current heat.

After retreating to a safe distance.

Najin and the chain unit joined the allied forces and arrived at a camp. They willingly provided a tent for Najin and lent priests for his treatment.

Removing the embedded flame arrows.

Emergency treatment for burns and other injuries.

Once the treatment was over and Najin could barely move, Gillet came to visit the tent. Behind Gillet stood the soldiers of the chain unit.

“Thank you.”

The first words from Gillet were of gratitude. He bowed his head to Najin.

“Thanks to you, we survived. The allied forces retreated safely, and half of the chain unit, who were prepared for annihilation, survived. It’s all thanks to the time you bought.”

Gillet raised his head.

His body was covered in soot, and one of his arms was missing. As Najin looked at it, Gillet shrugged.

“Losing an arm is a small price to pay. I was prepared to die, but somehow I survived. Bowing a hundred times wouldn’t be enough.”

“…Is that so?”

“Of course. You don’t seem to realize what an incredible feat you’ve accomplished…”

Gillet gave a bitter laugh.

“You saved me and the soldiers of the chain unit, and more broadly, the hundreds and thousands of retreating allies. Soldiers were wiped out by a mere gesture from the witch, but you endured it several times.”

This is an unbelievable achievement.

Saying this, Gillet patted Najin’s shoulder.

“It’s amazing. You saved the allied forces from annihilation. The 15 minutes you held out were more valuable than anything. We, the Wyvern Hunting Unit, and the surviving soldiers are proof of that.”

Gillet spoke sincerely.

Najin, not knowing how to react, remained silent. It felt awkward. He had experienced many battles, but this was the first time he had saved people.

‘No, I’ve fought to save people a few times…’

This felt different.

His efforts had saved people. Because he held his ground, hundreds of lives were spared. Najin felt the weight of those words.

It wasn’t his intention.

He had just followed his conviction. He didn’t want to run away. He didn’t like it. Those were the reasons Najin stepped onto the battlefield. He might have had thoughts about saving them, but that wasn’t the main focus.

‘Something feels…’

Perhaps that’s why Gillet’s gratitude felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t swung his sword purely to save them.

“That’s actually…”

Najin began to speak, feeling he couldn’t accept the gratitude in good conscience. As he spoke, Merlin stood beside him, smiling.

“…So, I didn’t swing my sword purely to save you. I think your gratitude is a bit too much.”

After hearing Najin’s story, Gillet blinked and then burst into laughter. It was as if he found it absurd, as if he had never seen anyone like this before.

“Young as you may be, you really don’t get it.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean…”

“What does intention matter? In the end, we survived because of you. That’s what’s important.”

Gillet chuckled.

He had lost an arm in the battle and suffered burns all over, but his laughter was genuine. It wasn’t just Gillet. The soldiers of the chain unit also smiled at Najin’s words.

“It’s not excessive at all. It’s right to be grateful, and you deserve to be thanked. So, stand tall and say it proudly.”

Say what?

“Today, I saved hundreds of lives. You have the right to say that.”

Like a hero from a legend.

Like Arthur, who once roamed the continent, you saved many lives today. Gillet was telling him this. Hearing this, Najin awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, I suppose.”

And then, he smiled.

‘You saved hundreds of lives today.’ It wasn’t a bad feeling. It was a pleasant sound.