My World Is... (7)
Tap.
It was a light footstep, but the air grew heavy in an instant.
The high priest of the Salvation Church was an old man clad in a black robe.
He was gaunt, and his complexion pale like that of a sick man, yet the pressure he exuded was heavy enough to crush a mountain range.
Graaaaaah!
This time, the monsters charged at the priest. Without a dark mage to control them, they could no longer distinguish friend from foe.
"Pathetic vermin…"
Kwaaaaaang!
As the priest unleashed his energy, the monsters swarming toward him were torn apart and vanished.
Kyle, who had been confronting him, stumbled back several steps from the sudden shock.
He was in a severely exhausted state. Though he had attained enlightenment and reached the realm of the superhuman, he was in no condition for a prolonged fight.
That's why even a light blow—something he could've withstood under normal circumstances—pushed him back so easily.
The priest studied Kyle closely, then spoke.
"So you were hiding your strength after all?"
"......"
"You were conserving your power, fighting just enough until a stronger foe appeared. But now you can't hold back anymore, so you're showing your true abilities."
"......."
"To possess such swordsmanship, and yet be able to use magic and summon spirits too... Truly impressive."
"......."
Kyle gave no reply. It seemed his opponent had been making all sorts of assumptions on his own and had only now decided to show himself.
It was actually a relief. If he had appeared from the beginning, Kyle would've died before even reaching enlightenment.
The priest slowly circled Kyle, continuing to speak.
"You can't use that magic anymore, can you? If you could, you'd have already used it. Am I wrong?"
"........"
Kyle suppressed the urge to laugh.
He knew the Salvation Church wanted to conserve its strength as much as possible.
He had already learned through Ismogen just how cautiously they moved. Even in the Elven Forest, the Salvation Church would never have fought unless they were certain of victory.
Yet even now, they were being cautious. This one must be particularly suspicious by nature.
The priest raised a hand, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
"You look utterly exhausted. Well, I would be too, if I'd fought like that."
Fwaaaah!
At his fingertips, a mass of darkness twisted into the form of a sharp spear.
And then, it shot toward Kyle.
Kwaaaang!
The massive spear of darkness pierced the ground.
With a deafening explosion, the earth split, and rocks surged into the air.
"Kh!"
Kyle twisted his body, barely managing to roll aside and dodge.
With his current fatigue, the destructive force was too great to face head-on. Kyle had no choice but to focus on minimizing the shock.
The priest laughed as he watched Kyle.
"Yes, yes. You're clearly worn out."
Kyle still gave no reply and quietly raised his sword.
The priest was convinced Kyle was exhausted. His breathing and movements were unlike anything a normal superhuman would display.
And yet, he still didn't engage Kyle directly.
'He might still be hiding something.'
So he kept his distance, continuously releasing energy—intending to wear his opponent down even further.
Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaaaang!
Kyle dared not approach and could only roll and dodge the attacks.
'Dammit…'
It was good in the sense that he was buying time, but in terms of the battle itself, it was the worst possible situation.
If the enemy would just come closer, Kyle might be able to find an opening. But the opponent had no such intention.
This was the most troublesome kind of fight—when facing someone overly cautious and suspicious. They wouldn't take action until they were completely certain of victory.
For the weary Kyle, this was an extremely difficult opponent.
Kwaaaaaang!
Dozens of black magical projectiles rained down like a storm.
Kyle moved quickly, but dodging them all was impossible.
In the end, he had to raise his sword and deflect some of them.
Kwaaang!
With a powerful shockwave, some of the energy engulfing Kyle was dispersed. But in his fatigued state, he couldn't block all the attacks.
Fwaaaaak!
A sharp blast pierced Kyle's shoulder. Another tore through his side.
The sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking rang out at the same time.
"Ghhk..."
Kyle grit his teeth. Blood spurted out, and his vision shook, but he didn't stop.
Clinging to his hazy consciousness, he parried the energy and lunged forward. In this situation, the best option was to go on the offensive.
Kyle attacked the priest in a relentless flurry, not giving him a moment to recover.
Slaash!
The first strike sliced through empty air. The second tore the hem of the priest's robe.
And the third...
Sssk!
It managed to graze the priest's body.
"You bastard!"
The priest, startled, thrust out his hand.
Thunk!
With a dull sound, Kyle's sword was knocked away.
Kyle, his strength failing him, couldn't hold on. Immediately, the priest's hand reached out again.
Kwaaaaang!
Dark energy struck Kyle's body head-on.
'Ah…'
His body was flung into the air.
It felt like several ribs had shattered—an excruciating pain that stole his breath.
He had hoped to hold on a little longer, but his unbalanced body crashed helplessly to the ground.
Thud!
"Guh…! Pwah!"
Blood spilled from his mouth in a crimson spray.
His mana was completely depleted. His arm seemed broken and wouldn't lift. His legs wouldn't move—he couldn't even stand.
His entire body was heavy, and his heart pounded as if ready to burst. He couldn't even curl a single finger.
It was only natural. He was already in a state where dying would not be surprising.
He had merely been able to move a bit longer thanks to reaching the realm of the superhuman.
Now, the priest was approaching with a relaxed smile. He was certain Kyle had reached his limit.
'...Is this really the end?'
Lying flat on the ground, Kyle was overwhelmed by a deep sense of despair.
His body had accepted the fact that he could no longer move, that this was truly the end.
The priest, now standing above him, raised a hand and looked down.
"I don't know who you are, but you were truly remarkable. If you had led an army, you would've been terrifying."
The priest meant it. A man capable of fighting like this alone—how terrifying would he be with an army?
To be able to kill such a dangerous figure here and now was a great fortune.
Fwoooooh...
Dark energy began to gather in the priest's hand. To ensure Kyle's death, he spared no effort.
Kyle watched with blurred eyes.
He wanted to move, but he had no strength left.
More than anyone, he knew this was the end.
'Still… I did well.'
Darkness slowly descended over his broken body.
His eyelids, heavy with fatigue, began to fall.
Beyond that fading vision, he saw a glimpse of the dwarf children who had fled.
Those small, powerless children, the ones who had been crying—were now alive.
That was enough.
Memories of the people who had been with him until now began to drift through his mind.
Yulian, Deneb, Astion—his childhood companions.
The rough mercenaries who laughed and fought with him on brutal battlefields.
Dark, always prickly and loud, yet always by his side.
And…
"…Ghislain."
That name escaped his lips, as if shattering.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that it was thanks to Ghislain that he had come this far.
Because of Ghislain's efforts, Kyle had gained the strength to protect others, and eventually reached the realm of the superhuman.
How could he not be grateful?
The memories with them warmly embraced his heart.
The regret of never seeing them again wrapped around him.
But he had given it his all. He had done everything he could.
His body may have fallen, but his spirit had never been broken.
This was not a powerless death, but a death where he had protected someone.
And so, Kyle could be at peace.
'My role… ends here.'
Kyle thought that as he forced a smile.
The priest didn't like that expression.
"A man about to die is smiling?"
It felt as though Kyle were mocking him. In a situation where begging for his life wouldn't be enough, he was smiling?
That's why the priest drew forth even more power. He intended to leave no corpse behind—he would reduce him to dust.
Just as the priest was about to deliver the final blow—
Fwaaaaaa...
From the distance, like the first light of dawn.
A holy aura, more serene and overwhelming than anything else, burst forth.
"...What is this?"
The priest flinched, raising his head.
He sensed it immediately. This was neither ordinary magic, nor regular holy power.
It was something far greater.
And while he hesitated for just a moment—
A wave of radiant light surged across the battlefield.
KWAHHHHHHHHHH!
The light swept through the surroundings like a storm.
The concentrated black energy in the priest's hands shattered the moment it touched the light.
"GRAAAAH!"
The priest's body was engulfed in sacred flame, beginning to burn.
At the same time, Kyle's eyes slowly opened.
'...This is.'
A faint smile spread across his bloodied face.
'Deneb.'
He instinctively knew.
This holy power—this warmth that seemed to embrace everything—could only have come from her.
'You did it… too, huh.'
He didn't know what had happened. But he was sure that some great miracle had touched her, allowing her to unleash such overwhelming holy power. That alone made him proud, and filled him with joy.
Kyle once again embraced the pain that crushed his body.
His bones screamed in protest, but he could move—if only a little.
The holy power that had brushed past had eased his wounds slightly and renewed his strength.
"Ghh…."
Kyle clenched his teeth and forced power into his trembling arms.
His mana was still depleted, but the important thing was that he could move again.
Panting, he managed a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.
"Hey, how about we go one more round? I've still got one last thing to show you."
"Ghhk! You bastard!"
The priest glared at Kyle with a twisted expression.
Even if only for a moment, immense pain had swept over him. A considerable amount of power had burned away.
He couldn't understand why holy power had suddenly washed over the area like that.
'It definitely came from the direction of Valskrum's center. Did something happen?'
That was where the two Prophets were fighting. There was no way they'd fail.
But after experiencing that enormous holy power, a creeping unease began to form.
'I need to kill this one quickly and check it out.'
Only then could he decide whether to flee or keep fighting.
"Die!"
The priest gathered his energy and charged at Kyle.
His opponent had spent every last bit of strength. He could only barely move thanks to the passing holy power.
So he would crush Kyle's skull and ensure he truly died.
He would not allow another miracle to occur.
Fwaaack!
The moment the priest's hand extended, Kyle reflexively ducked.
But he couldn't avoid it completely.
CRACKKK!
Black energy raked across his back like lightning, tearing away large chunks of flesh.
Kyle endured the pain, gripping his sword tightly with both hands.
Fighting any longer was impossible. He had no stamina, no mana left.
So this one attack had to deal a fatal blow.
"This will be… my final strike."
Kyle twisted his body, raising his sword.
A spin starting from his toes passed through his waist and shoulders.
DRRRRRRR!
His mana was long gone. This was just an ordinary sword—but Kyle didn't care.
— Using mana isn't the end. You must read the flow of the world. When you follow that flow, you can cut through anything.
Ghislain always said that.
Back then, Kyle hadn't understood. Even now, he didn't fully comprehend it.
But somehow, the path was becoming clearer.
He felt the grain of the world brush against his fingertips.
And all it would take to cleave it… was one sword.
Fwaaaack!
Kyle's blade soared upward, tracing a line that seemed to split the sky.
It wasn't merely a sword strike—it was a blow infused with all the tenacity and despair that had sustained him thus far.
"GRAAAAAH!"
The priest, his body slashed deeply, screamed in agony as he staggered backward.
More than the pain, he was overwhelmed by disbelief.
"Wh-Without mana… how…"
He had been struck down by a mere sword without a trace of mana. That defied everything he knew.
Even weakened by holy power, such a thing should've been impossible.
An incomprehensible sword. Unfathomable will. An illogical situation.
To the priest, all of it came as terror.
Fwaaaaaa!
Black smoke billowed furiously from the gash across his body.
The priest clutched the wound. Under normal circumstances, it should have healed quickly—but perhaps due to the lingering holy power, it wasn't recovering easily.
"Ghrrrrr…"
With bloodshot eyes, the priest glared at Kyle.
How could a man, clearly on the brink of death, still be standing and fighting?
Even now, he was swaying, sword still in hand.
The priest grit his teeth. Though he wasn't in perfect condition either, he was far better off than his opponent. One more attack would be enough to kill him.
As he gathered his energy and prepared to move again—
BOOM!
A flash of light burst from the sky.
The priest looked up, puzzled—then his eyes widened.
From within that light, a figure descended like lightning.
KWAANG!
In an instant, a hand grabbed the priest's neck, slamming him to the ground.
DRRRRRRRRRRRR!
With the sound of bones grinding, a long trench carved itself into the earth.
Unable to withstand the immense force and speed, the priest was smashed into the ground and dragged across it.
"GRAAAAAAH!"
The priest screamed. Not even knowing who had attacked him, all he could do was endure the pain as though his neck were about to snap.
When he finally regained some awareness, he saw the man pressing his neck down.
The man who had fallen from the sky—Ghislain—spoke in a chilling voice.
"Is bullying the weak fun for you?"
"W-Who…?"
The priest blinked in confusion.
He couldn't tell who, exactly, this "weak one" was supposed to be.
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