Chapter 44: Transcendence

 

A crazed energy, unlike anything felt before, radiated from Bricalla as it lunged forward.

 

Like a warhorse under a whip, it scorched its own body with electricity, forcibly maintaining its awakened state.

 

Charging in on two legs and four arms was enough to make any normal human shrink back in fear.

 

But here stood a man twisted from the bounds of humanity, and he moved before anyone else could.

 

“Glory to Helmut!”

 

The Helmut devotee, Jonathan.

 

His greatsword exuded a thick, sticky aura, having morphed into something that was ‘red’ in name only.

 

Kwaaang!

 

When those two monstrosities collided, aura and electricity scattered in every direction.

 

The balance of power crumbled from the very start.

 

At the moment of impact, Jonathan’s greatsword was knocked back as if it were bouncing off. In passing, the creature trampled and crushed him underfoot.

 

“Grrrrrrrr!”

 

“So after all that bluster, that’s it?!”

 

Jonathan was overwhelmed in a flash, causing Sharen to react a beat too late.

 

Before her horizontal slash could even be swung, Bricalla flicked away her greatsword with a punch.

 

Eyes wide, Sharen desperately unleashed a burst of red aura from her entire body to resist.

 

“Kyaaah!”

 

Yet Sharen too was unable to stop Bricalla’s charge and was thrown against a wall.

 

If her angle had been even slightly off, she would have fallen straight to the ground below.

 

“……!”

 

From the start, Bricalla’s target had been Isaac.

 

It clearly recognized the sole person here who had nearly taken its life.

 

‘No chance of winning if I fight head-on…!’

 

Yet there was nowhere to run.

 

Especially now that Sharen was away, Isaac’s body was once again succumbing to the cold.

 

Thud!

 

He slammed his right foot forward.

 

He let go of the Falchion and placed a hand on the single-bladed sword that remained at his side.

 

[What do you think is the greatest power of your master’s sword?]

 

Fear, he had answered at the time.

 

Isaac had replied without difficulty, and the Grandmaster had chuckled, grumbling:

 

[If you’re too outstanding, it’s hardly cute.]

 

There was no hesitation in Isaac’s action.

 

Despite the cold leaving him trembling, the moment his stiffened hand touched the hilt, he felt a liberating sense of freedom as if by magic.

 

His foe could think.

 

It possessed intelligence, the ability to reason, learn, and grow.

 

And precisely because of that—

 

Thud!

 

Bricalla halted in front of Isaac and spread its four arms wide in cautious defense.

 

‘It knows fear because it has learned. It stays on guard because it has knowledge.’

 

At that moment, Isaac was posing a question:

 

‘My drawing slash—could you truly follow it with your eyes?’

 

That lightning-quick sword strike it barely blocked before—could it really do it again?

 

Bricalla, which had previously charged without hesitation, now fixed its gaze on Isaac’s single-bladed sword.

 

It was focused on the exact moment that the blade might be drawn.

 

A bluff.

 

A life-or-death gamble, as if in a card game.

 

‘The single-bladed sword?’

 

If he drew it now, it would be caught up in the electric currents, dulling its edge. It’d become useless, unable to cut anything.

 

But for all Bricalla knew, that sword at Isaac’s hip might be the same one as before.

 

‘Reason restrains your movements. Knowledge intensifies your fear.’

 

Having felt that single possibility on its own skin—terror awakened within fury—

 

Bricalla couldn’t easily rush Isaac again…

 

But of course, that hesitation only lasted a brief moment.

 

“Grrrrrrrrrrr!”

 

With a roar, Bricalla slammed its fist into the ground, sending a surge of electricity racing across the barrier toward Isaac.

 

Like a crashing wave, the electricity surged forward.

 

He hurled the Falchion to block it, but it barely mitigated the assault.

 

In the end, Isaac was engulfed by the electric current.

 

“Ughhhhhhh!”

 

It felt like his entire body was about to explode.

 

Just moments ago, he had feared freezing to death; now his skin was burning as smoke and the stench of scorched flesh rose from him.

 

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

 

Finally convinced Isaac was completely incapacitated, Bricalla stomped over with thunderous steps and—

 

Thuddd!

 

It smacked Isaac with all its might using the back of its hand.

 

“Isaac!”

 

Sharen’s scream rang out.

 

Jonathan, who had been knocked unconscious, snapped awake at the sound, but it was already too late.

 

Isaac was hurled through the air, forced beyond the barrier, and fell straight down.

 

His frozen body felt as though it were shattering on impact. Even the rush of wind against him was agony.

 

‘So this is how I die.’

 

“He’s—falling—!”

 

“Everyone—catch him—!”

 

“Isaac!”

 

A voice, cutting in and out like an alias in the distance, was the only thing keeping Isaac tethered to consciousness.

 

Through a foggy, white haze in his vision, he caught a glimpse of the towering barrier walls.

 

‘Ah.’

 

Somehow, without realizing it, Isaac had already reached the ground.

 

Yet there was no pain.

 

He had been certain he’d die on impact.

 

“So you really thought you could pull something off, huh?!”

 

He soon realized the reason why.

 

A warm, green mana enveloped his body.

 

The ache beating across every inch of him gradually subsided, as though it were seeping into his skin.

 

His fingers twitched, and the blurriness in his vision returned to normal.

 

It was Vivian, the healer mage from the infirmary.

 

“If I hadn’t used my magic to catch you, there’d have been no chance for treatment! You’d be dead, you know!”

 

He shouted through violent coughs as he cast his healing magic.

 

“You told people to run, right—? Cough, cough! So why on earth are you still fighting up there—? Gak! cough!”

 

He turned his head to the side and spat up phlegm.

 

Healing magic apparently took a huge toll on its caster. Judging from his gaunt face, he’d nearly depleted all his mana.

 

“Ah.”

 

Slowly, Isaac lifted himself up.

 

He was far from fully recovered, but he could move well enough to fight again.

 

“Isaac-nim, are you all right?!”

 

The Malidan barrier soldiers standing around him asked anxiously.

 

“What’s the damage?”

 

Brushing off bits of ice crystal clinging to his body, Isaac posed the question, and the response came at once:

 

“Outside of the initial surprise attack, there’s been none. Thanks to your quick thinking and ordering the retreat.”

 

It seemed they were eager to reassure him that his decision had been correct.

 

But Isaac pushed past the shoulders of the soldiers blocking his way and trudged toward the barrier.

 

“It’s not over yet.”

 

Above them, Sharen and Jonathan were still fighting Bricalla.

 

With heavy steps, he moved forward, only for another group of soldiers to jump in and block him.

 

“You can’t go!”

 

“That’s suicide right now!”

 

“Let us go instead! Isaac-nim, please rest here!”

 

“From the start, it’s our duty to protect the Malidan Barrier!”

 

To these men insisting they should go in his place, Isaac glared, his eyes bloodshot, and asked:

 

“You want to climb up there? Do you want us all to freeze to death?”

 

“…….”

 

“You’re the guardians of the Malidan Barrier. That’s why you have to stay here.”

 

Because—

 

“If we die, it’s on you to stop it next.”

 

The longer they stayed on the barrier, the more accumulated damage Bricalla would take.

 

If they couldn’t kill it outright, they had to prolong the fight up there, making it wear itself out.

 

“Knowing you’re safe behind me… that’s what lets me risk my life in this fight.”

 

The soldiers fell silent, unable to prevent him from advancing.

 

But the person who stepped in front of Isaac was a most unexpected man.

 

“What happened to your other swords?”

 

“Antonio…”

 

As if snatching it away, Antonio grabbed Isaac’s single-bladed sword and drew it.

 

The blade was completely worn away—blackened beyond use.

 

It must have been destroyed along with Isaac when he was hit by that electricity.

 

“My sword—”

 

Isaac stretched out his hand.

 

He was demanding the silvery blade Antonio was holding.

 

“I didn’t plan on giving it to you like this.”

 

But now wasn’t the time for that.

 

Antonio handed over the silvery single-bladed sword, grappling inwardly with how to express his complex feelings. In the end, he let out a half-hearted laugh, as though dumping all responsibility elsewhere.

 

“Save your thanks… for when you come back. Give them to the young lady in person.”

 

Isaac blinked, his eyes widening slightly.

 

The single-bladed sword in his hand was astonishingly light, imbued with a pure, mysterious energy.

 

He recognized at once that it was forged from frostsilver.

 

Isaac gave a small nod and started walking back in, his body rapidly heating up along the way.

 

“Cough! cough—! Guk!”

 

One glance at Vivian, who was now practically retching, told him everything.

 

It seemed that at the very last moment, Vivian had cast a heat spell on Isaac to warm him from within.

 

He headed toward the barrier.

 

The soldiers of the Malidan Barrier stepped aside, slowly lifting their hands in salute.

 

They said nothing as they watched the swordsman head off to fight. They only showed him their respect by placing fists to their chests.

 

****

 

[Enlightenment?]

 

He climbed the steps leading to the top of the barrier.

 

A chill wind crept in once again, numbing his thoughts. At that moment, a nostalgic voice belonging to his Greatmaster echoed in Isaac’s ears.

 

[When did I gain enlightenment, you ask? Hah, I suppose many of our newer disciples are slow to grow, given such questions…]

 

The Greatmaster took a swig from her cup and sighed, peering at Isaac with a look that was half lament, half amusement.

 

[When do you think it might’ve been?]

 

Isaac remained silent.

 

[Hmm? Out with it. I promise not to laugh.]

 

‘When fighting for one’s life? Swinging your sword with all your might in a desperate bid to survive?’ Isaac ventured.

 

[How romantic!]

 

Well, that was the image most would have, he supposed:

 

Unraveling one’s limits and reaching enlightenment at the most critical moment—on the brink of the abyss.

 

[Let me turn the question around, then.]

 

The Greatmaster, disappointed that her liquor was gone, spun the empty bottle around with regret. Then she straightened and fixed Isaac with a wry smile.

 

[Tell me, then: why when people die?]

 

Isaac didn’t reply.

 

[A life-threatening moment? A mortal crisis? Everyone faces such situations. It’s hardly special. Do you think you’d reach enlightenment every time?]

 

His feet felt heavy.

 

[Everyone dies. Don’t ascribe too much weight to death. Enlightenment is precious because it doesn’t stem from something so common, yes?]

 

The wind pressed down on him as he neared the top of the staircase, as though pushing at his head.

 

Isaac passed the final frost-ridden steps and reached the top of the barrier.

 

[Haha! So how about now? Have you begun to understand?]

 

‘What do you mean?’ Isaac wondered.

 

High-altitude winds whipped across his body.

 

A frosty white breath escaped his lips.

 

Amid the swirling white steam, he saw Jonathan and Sharen sprawled on the ground.

 

[Still not getting it? Enlightenment isn’t universal—it’s treasured because it’s so rare. In other words…]

 

At that moment, Bricalla, who had been pounding its chest with four arms, abruptly froze.

 

Perhaps annoyed that Isaac had returned yet again, it let out a snort of pent-up rage, roaring furiously in his direction.

 

[…Wouldn’t you say true insight comes from situations that are far from ordinary?]

 

Snow tumbled down in clumps as Bricalla hurled lightning in all directions like spears.

 

Even then, Isaac found himself marveling at the sheer volume of mana it still possessed.

 

‘What is this thing you’re talking about?’ he asked inwardly.

 

He settled into a stance.

 

His right leg stepped boldly forward.

 

His left leg anchored him like a pillar.

 

His hand floated over the hilt at his waist, and naturally—by sheer habit—he formed the stance he’d always taken.

 

[‘What is it?’ you ask…?]

 

The Greatmaster’s lips curved in a crescent-moon smile.

 

[Well, you ought to know better than anyone, since you’ve been writing the manuals, no?]

 

[Think of those who wield the sword under the brightest moon. Who were they?]

 

[Those who trained under the watchful stars at dawn—who were they?]

 

[Those who ended their sessions sweating just as the moon vanished and the sunrise began—who were they?]

 

[Those who roared their battle cries earlier than the crowing rooster—who were they?]

 

[And who among them does such training, day in and day out, without fail?]

 

Only a tiny fraction could manage that.

 

Thud!

 

The echo of the Greatmaster’s scabbard striking the floor overlapped with the heavy stomp of Bricalla.

 

In a flash, Isaac regained his clarity, locking eyes with Bricalla, which kept its distance and warily circled him.

 

[That is the one.]

 

Isaac held his breath.

 

[That is the one you speak of, the one who has reached enlightenment…]

 

Zzzzzzzzzzt!

 

Lightning crackled all around Bricalla.

 

Like before, it was about to unleash a wave of electricity to keep Isaac from drawing his sword.

 

But in a seamless motion, his blade slid free.

 

Here, in the North—

 

He’d swung his sword under the brightest moon.

 

He’d gripped his sword under the watchful dawn stars.

 

He’d seen the moon fade and the sun rise, all with sweat soaking his skin.

 

He’d let out fierce cries before the roosters awoke.

 

And—

 

He did so every single day.

 

“The moment I draw—”

 

He reached beyond the limit.

 

They called it many things…

 

A silvery line was drawn through the air.

 

It stretched, and stretched further still, until it disappeared somewhere beyond sight.

 

That it cleaved the neck of the beast was merely an inevitable part of its path.

 

[Doesn’t calling it ‘enlightenment’ make it sound trivial?]

 

[Hence, if you must name it—]

 

[Call it Transcendence.]

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

 

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