Chapter 1: A Somber Tale (1)

The battle had concluded on the third evening.

The rain showed no sign of stopping yet. The raindrops pelting the skin felt more like lashes than water.

“Cough… Cough…”

Struggling to catch his breath, Ronan lifted his head. The once chaotic battlefield now lay silent, with only the sound of rain filling the air.

As his gaze widened, the landscape before him seemed like a scene transferred from hell itself.

The wasteland stretching to the horizon was mostly covered in a charred, reddish hue. It was the color of blood mixed with mud.

Upon the sticky ground were scattered fragments that had once composed humans. Puddles that had formed here and there carried the floating corpses of those who had been blown apart.

Apart from him, there was no sign of any living beings in motion. As he wiped his blade against his clothing, a voice echoed from behind.

“To think there was such a strong human, Amazing.”

Despite the fierce downpour, the voice was clear. It sounded like the deep resonance of a cave filled with flowing lava. Ronan turned his body with an expression of disgust.

“You aren’t dead yet?”

[It’s an evident failure on Ahaiyute’s part.]

About five strides away, a massive figure of a human sprawled out. This was the culprit behind the carnage. The giant referred to himself as Ahaiyute.

With a height easily surpassing 4 meters, the giant’s back bore two pairs of wings. Its appearance resembled the concept of angels, frequently depicted in religious art.

He had an oval-shaped bald head with distinct facial features. His white-tinged muscular torso was riddled with scores of deep and lengthy scars.

Blue blood oozing from wounds formed puddles around the giant’s center.

[Indeed. Not yet.]

Ronan’s grip on the hilt tightened. If it were possible, he would have torn Ahaiyute to shreds with a mere thought, but he no longer had the energy for that.

This single being had vaporized ten legions of the empire.

With each flutter of his four wings, storms raged, and with each swing of his light-forged spear, hundreds lost their lives. The innocent lives lost before the final battle were beyond counting.

[However, my end is near. Ahaiyute has been defeated, and soon they shall return to His embrace.]

“Well, good riddance. Stepping on dog shit on your way out wouldn’t hurt. You damn sticky mess.”

Thunk!

Ronan picked up a broken dagger and plunged it into the giant’s chest. Despite the attack, the giant didn’t rise, indicating a likely fatal blow.

Ronan perched on the giant’s shoulder. While rummaging through his pouch, he muttered curses under his breath.

“Hey, you bastard.”

The expensive pipe he had bought with a lot of money was completely shattered. He tossed the broken pipe at the giant’s face and stood up.

“Yeah, your friends, do you know that they’re dead?”

[Friends?]

“Yeah, the guys who came down with you.”

[Are you referring to Nirvana and Duaaru?]

“I don’t know their names… Anyway, they’re dead.”

Twenty days ago, three giants descended upon the land. The reason remained unknown.

They wreaked havoc to the extent that the continent’s map needed to be redrawn. Ahaiyute was the last remaining giant.

“One was fried alive by a hot-tempered red dragon, and the other one was sealed for eternity by an oldman called Lorehon. I don’t know what you guys were up to, but it’s all over now.”

Ronan wanted to see the giant’s face twisted with despair.

So he refrained from mentioning that the Red Dragon Navar-Dorje and her tribe suffered devastation akin to mutual annihilation, or the peripheral information about the Archmage Lorehon sacrificing his own soul as a conduit for a sealing spell.

However, the response he received didn’t fulfill his expectations.

[It’s fortunate.]

“What?”

[The fact that there are no more strong individuals like you. You can no longer stop us.]

Ronan slowly drew his sword. The gleaming tip aimed for the giant’s throat.

“…How do you know that?”

[The children of the Star share their senses with one other.]

“Seriously… What a damn annoying one to the end. What do you mean there are no strong ones left?”

I’m Still here.

Ronan didn’t bother adding those words. He knew if he were to fight this monstrosity again, he could settle the matter within a day. However, Ahaiyute knew everything.

[I know that your time is nearing its end]

“Huh.”

[Strong one. Don’t conceal the truth with shallow tricks.]

The sword trembled slightly, but Ronan showed no sign of it. He pushed the sword’s tip into the giant’s throat.

Tough skin tore as blue blood gushed out. Ahaiyute continued nonchalantly.

[I’m quite glad. If… you had realized your skills earlier and put your all into training, you would’ve become a large obstacle for our long-cherished wish…]

“Enough with the chatter. It’s getting tiresome.”

[You’re an exceptional human. Be proud. The tale of the man who shook the sky and plucked stars could truly transcend the horizon of tomorrow. However…]

He spat out like a wedge.

[Your world will ultimately be consumed by the starlight.]

Thunk!

Ronan’s sword drew an arc.

“If you’re alive, answer me! Is anyone here?”

Ronan yelled, holding a hand to his mouth. No answer came.

Ahaiyute died without a whimper. The blue blood flowed like a river, not seeping into the soil. Ronan kicked the giant’s corpse and stood up.

He began to wander the battlefield, searching for any possible survivors. Death existed wherever his gaze landed. Avoiding the fallen corpses was no easy task.

Hush.

Scanning through pale faces, Ronan clenched his teeth. Most of them were familiar faces. Comrades from the disciplinary unit that shared life and death. Ronan muttered with bitterness.

“Foolish bastards.”

The disciplinary unit was a special force composed of criminals. The underbelly of an army that made patriotism a duty. The epitome of inconsistency, even in their discipline.

He knew why these men, who usually babbled and fled, would charge headlong into such a monster.

“Did you think you all were strong because I was? Huh?”

Ahaiyute was formidable. Arrows that barred the sky, self-proclaimed knights’ Holy Spears, and even Shullifen, the Sword Saint, hailed as the Empire’s Greatest Swordsmaster, did not land any critical blows.

Only Ronan’s blade could sever the giant’s flesh and suck blood from it. Even the swords of the disciplinary unit, which were unable to perceive mana, let alone use Aura, were oddly effective against the giant. Nobody, not even Ronan, could figure out why.

Yet, within the battle where the fate of the empire was at stake, social status became meaningless. The Grand General discarded the original plan and formulated a new strategy centered around Ronan.

In the end, the disciplinary unit became the most crucial force, guarded by ten legions. The ragtag misfits, with lungs filled with wind, didn’t hesitate to elevate their comrades to heroes. They fought through being torn apart and shattered, ultimately proving the Grand General’s judgment right.

“These damn idiots…”

Ronan opened his eyes wide and gently closed the eyes of his fallen comrades, one by one. Their eyelids, hardened like the bark of an old tree, were tough and rigid. How many times had he repeated this task?

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Ronan felt a faint, dizzy spell rising from his solar plexus.

Thunk!

The ground he had been lying on abruptly struck his cheek. His vision spun as if he had been drinking. Ronan grumbled as he fell over.

“Oh, come on.”

His body wouldn’t move. Even though rain whip-like raindrops were lashing at the side of his face not pinned to the ground, he felt nothing.

Ahaiyute’s words about the remaining time echoed in his mind. He knew as well. His worn-out body had reached its limit a long time ago.

This phenomenon was a sort of declaration of what his body could no longer do. It was saying it wouldn’t play along with the likes of him anymore.

“Cough!”

An unexpected cough burst out. It was a cough mixed with crimson blood. Amid extreme tension, the senses that had been numbed slowly began to return to Ronan. Leading the charge was agony.

“Yo… you…”

If he was going to die anyway, he wanted to die looking at the sky. Ronan exerted all his strength to flip his body over. The sky appeared, crisscrossed like a diaper. Neither the sun nor the moon nor stars were visible. Only occasional flashes of bluish lightning flickered through the growling clouds.

“Even till the end… this is absurd.”

Feeling even more agitated, Ronan closed his eyes. Now, he just wanted to die quickly. The days he had lived seemed to float and sway in the darkness.

[It’s truly fortunate for us. You wasted your talents in obscurity.]

Once again, those bold words brushed through his mind. They were infuriating, but true.

Most of his memories flowed like a stream of wasted moments or scenes where he wasted time like a fool. Ronan himself had squandered the shining talents, no one else.

“Should I have attended the academy too?”

Understanding his talent came quickly. Exceptional ability wasn’t something that could be hidden like poverty or a cough.

His only family, his sister, had earnestly wished for him to receive proper education. She raised him with love and care, saying he could undoubtedly become a great person.

Ronan disliked that and left home. It was bothersome.

For the next three years, he wandered the continent like a stray dog. As with most crimes, Ronan also ended up in the punitive unit for a moment of anger. More accurately, he turned himself in.

The military life turned out to be surprisingly tolerable. In a unit that granted discharge after surviving three years, Ronan remained for seven.

They provided food and shelter as long as he wielded a blade. He had no compelling reason to leave. Though various offers for recruitment came his way, he rejected them all.

And this was the result.

The giants’ invasion took everything away. The rascals he fought alongside for seven years, his caring sister, the nations and villages he encountered on his journey—all turned to ash.

If he had properly learned swordsmanship and dedicated himself to training, would the outcome have been different? Could he have protected them?

He didn’t know.

It was a meaningless contemplation.

With closed eyes, Ronan relaxed his body. He felt his soul gradually leaving his body. Someone had said death is nothing more than a deep slumber…

His mind…

Fading…

Dull…

[Is anyone… there.]

A human voice reached him.

“I’m here!”

Ronan jolted up from his position as if propelled. Mud splattered off his back and neck. He focused all his senses on his hearing and strained his ears. Once again, the voice reached him.

[… I’m injured and can’t move. Is anyone there.]

“Damn it, I’m here! I’m right here!!”

It was a woman’s voice. Judging by how the sound seemed to resonate directly in his mind rather than through his ears, she was likely using telepathic magic.

“Keep talking! I’m coming now!”

Ronan, who had roughly determined the direction, rushed forward. Despite smashing his face into the window multiple times as his legs gave way, he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the fact that there might be a survivor.

[Here is…]

The voice grew fainter and fainter. Whatever the reason, it was clear that someone was fading away. Ronan increased his speed. Any traces of regret or stained ideals had long been cast aside.

He soon arrived in front of a pair of leaning rocks. The two rocks faced each other like a roof, creating a structure under which he could avoid the rain.

“Ugh… ugh…”

Every exhale was accompanied by dripping blood. Ronan wiped his mouth with his sleeve and entered the space between the rocks. The owner of the voice was lying inside.

“You are…”

And the moment he saw her face, Ronan had to swallow a sigh that rose up to his chin.

“General.”

A familiar face.

“Ronan…”

Struggling to raise her head, the woman spoke. Her voice was raspy, her throat was dry, but her former dignity remained unshaken.

A stature taller than most generals, matted dark hair covered in blood and mud. In contrast, her skin was so pale it was almost pure white.

Ronan repeated the words as if he was under some sort of enchantment.

“Grand General Adeshan.”

Despite having aimed for the idols of every imperial soldier, Ronan didn’t bow. He had no arm to salute her with.

Adeshan of Arkalucia.

The Imperial Grand General reigning over a million-strong army, and the Duke of Arkalucia.

A hero who saved countless lives with swift action during the onslaught of the giants.

But now, before Ronan’s eyes, she was fading away, torn apart like a dog’s plaything.

****

“Grand General Adeshan.”

Ronan furrowed his brow. Adeshan’s condition was unbearable to behold.

Her crimson-stained uniform was torn and tattered, losing its functionality to cover her body. Her arm, torn messily, still oozed blood.

“Ronan… a corporal, right?”

Adeshan struggled to raise her upper body, propping herself against the wall. Her grey eyes, resembling ashes, fixed on Ronan.

“By any chance, what’s the reason for this?”

“Wait, let me ask first.”

After several deep breaths, Adeshan spoke.

“Ahaiyute…?”

“I killed him.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s a body not far from here.”

“…Is that so?”

Adeshan twisted her lips. A single tear rolled down her dirtied cheek. Gazing at the sky, she mumbled in a weak voice.

“He’s dead.”

Grimacing as she forced her legs to support her, Adeshan rose. Ronan quickly rushed to her and supported her.

“Thank you.”

“It was something that needed to be done.”

“I have… nothing left. You are the Hero. The one who saved the world, The True Hero.”

“Damn it, hero or whatever, let’s start with stopping the bleeding. Your wounds are deep.”

Ronan muttered a curse as he glimpsed her arm’s injuries. Beneath the torn flesh, white bone peeked out. Tenderly clasping her shoulders, Ronan gently pressed her against the wall once more.

“I’m done for. There’s no hope.”

“What? You called me by my first name, asking for help.”

“I only wanted to know the monster’s fate. As I said, I have no hope left.”

“Still, we have to try our best.”

Ronan took off his shirt. His well-trained body was covered in scars, resembling those of a wild beast. He began tearing the shirt into strips, intending to use them as makeshift bandages.

“You are quite stubborn.”

“I’ll tell you beforehand, it’s going to hurt a lot. You might scream or even faint.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you’re going to do it, do it quickly.”

“Understood.”

Using the torn cloth, Ronan tightly bound the areas that needed staunching. Each time the fabric cinched, blood pooled and seeped from the wounds.

****

“Definitely… I’m feeling a bit better. The dizziness is less intense than before.”

“That’s a relief.”

The two of them were seated side by side on a rock. The bandages wrapped around Adeshan’s body seemed to have improved her complexion compared to earlier.

“I never thought you wouldn’t let out a scream.”

“Being a Grand General isn’t just about looks.”

“…Seems like you have more of a sense of humor than I expected.”

Ronan tilted his head as if he were exhausted. Was it because he had transformed into a human with Ora? His recovery speed was unusually fast.

“But… it seems it should’ve been you who received treatment, not me.”

Ronan sat there, wearing only his pants. Unlike Adeshan, his complexion was worsening as time went on. Watching him spit out blood as if he were spitting out saliva, Adeshan clicked her tongue.

“Tsk, at this rate, you’re just adding to the death toll on the journey to the afterlife.”

“The Grand General might still survive if the rescue team arrives in time.”

“Isn’t it the same for you?”

“No, I won’t make it.”

“What basis do you have to jump to that conclusion?”

“Well, when I heard the General’s voice and stood up, I felt it. I’m going to die.”

A smile crept onto Ronan’s lips as he said this. Perplexed, Adeshan asked.

“Then, why are you smiling when you’re saying you’ll die soon.”

“Well… I actually feel really empty, It’s like I am about to fade away for real…”

Ronan lowered his gaze to his waist. He couldn’t see the sword that he had never taken off since leaving his hometown. It looked like the scabbard had been pulled out along with the sword when he charged. It was a bit empty, but he didn’t feel any stronger emotions than that.

“At least it’s meaningful to be able to die like that? Not regrettable enough to lose the sword.”

“You’re quite an odd person.”

The two of them exchanged various stories. Adeshan had a much more flexible way of thinking than he had anticipated. Ronan was taken aback when he found out that she, like him, came from a commoner background.

“If you were to survive and return, is there something you’d like to do?”

“I’m going to die.”

“I said ‘if’.”

Even when prodding his leg, there was no response.

“You should return and participate in the Improving Ceremony according to the system.”

She looked at Ronan’s profile. The sound of his teeth clashing was audible between his half-opened lips. His long and dark eyelashes trembled like candles in the wind.

“…Damn it.”

Adeshan turned her head. Blood dripped from her chewed lips. She couldn’t bear to watch Ronan die. She had thought that she had become sufficiently numb after going through three lives, but it seemed that some traces of human emotions still remained.

Aselle was having another hellish day today. He was deeply regretting not being able to resist his friends’ persuasion. He wished he had even used the excuse of being sick, but it was always like this.

“Yeah! Even if you brought the money, it’s okay to get hit!”

“Um, I really don’t have any money!”

In return, Aselle had to watch as he was mixed among the group and witness the sight of a young coward being beaten up. The small child was crouched round, taking the hits as if he were a ball.

“Then, How are you going to pay for your sick mother’s medicine, huh?”

“W-well, that’s…!”

The reasons he was being beaten were incomprehensible. Recently, his mother’s illness had worsened, and most of their expenses went towards her medication. Despite his gang’s primarily orphaned background, they didn’t value the coward’s filial piety.

“Hey, you don’t even need a mother to take care of you to live well. What are you trying to do, cling to some dying woman soon, huh?”

“Wouldn’t it ease your conscience a bit if you think about the cost of raising a mother?”

Even after hearing insults he couldn’t bear, the child couldn’t say a word. Aselle clenched his fist and muttered.

“Fool.”

It was a word said to himself, not just to the child. The reason he, who was very small and skinny, wasn’t a target for the delinquents was solely due to his talent. He didn’t have the courage to endure violence or bullying.

Aselle prayed. Since stopping it was impossible anyway, he just hoped the savage violence would end quickly. He hoped his name wouldn’t be called.

But life doesn’t usually go as planned.

“Hey, Aselle! Give this kid a taste of your magic.”

Hans, who played the role of a leader, called him with a big breath. At that moment, all the delinquents stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards Aselle.

Aselle felt like a heavy stone was dropped onto his heart. He maintained a blank expression and nodded.

“Heheheek! You want a taste of his magic?!”

“Please! Not magic! Please! Just spare me!”

“Master magician! He’s a magician! Please have mercy!”

The coward knelt down in a panic, holding onto Aselle’s trouser leg, tears streaming down his face. Aselle closed his eyes tightly and began to chant a spell.

“Invisible Hand.”

The coward’s body began to rise slowly.

“No! Please stop!”

An invisible hand was gripping the coward, lifting him up. Cheers erupted from all around. His body, slowly ascending, soon reached a height where a fall would cause significant harm. However, the delinquents only goaded Aselle further.

“Heh heh, no matter how many times you see it, it’s amazing. Let’s hang him from a treetop!”

“Please let me down! Please! Please bring me down!”

Aselle twisted his lips. His seemingly worthless talent felt like a curse. If he had known it would come to this, he wouldn’t have even jokingly bought one of those magic books that peddlers sold. If he hadn’t been born in this remote village, could his talent have been used more effectively?

His hands trembled. In a moment of distraction, he felt like he might drop the coward. His magic was still feeble and unstable. Aselle let out a silent scream. “Please, someone intervene!”

“Enough, bring him down.”

Out of nowhere, an unfamiliar voice intervened from behind.

“What the hell?”

“You.. you!”

The crowd fell quiet in an instant, like cold water had been poured over them. Even Hans, who wouldn’t be fazed if he got hit by a stone on the road, was left speechless.

What’s going on? Aselle managed to turn his head slightly to look behind him. There stood a lawless figure from Nimbuten.

Ronan spoke again.

“I said bring him down.”

Aselle felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something in the dry voice that was unnerving.

Unbeknownst to him, his lips were moving as he slowly lowered the coward. Hans reached out and grabbed Aselle’s shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You’re bringing him down because he told you to? Do you take me for a pushover?”

“Th-that’s not it…”

“Raise him up again.”

Aselle swallowed hard. The coward began to rise again. Seeing this, Ronan chuckled coldly. Hans, who had walked over, stopped right in front of Ronan.

“Ronan, long time no see.”

“Yeah, Hans, it’s been a while.”

“Why are you suddenly butting in? You’d usually just stay quiet and sulk.”

“The perpetually scowling face of a syphilitic yam hasn’t changed. Was it this bad?”

“Hey, can’t you figure out the situation? You damn idiot.”

Hans, who was considerably taller, looked down at Ronan. Hans was, in reality, three years older than Ronan.

The other boys, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, stared at the two of them, holding their breath.

Originally, in Nimbuten, Ronan’s position was like a natural disaster that took a hands-off attitude, almost indifferent. Those who picked fights against him were rendered helpless, but he never intervened in other disputes.

“Don’t come at me with a punch like you did back in the day. Do you think you’d win again if we fought again?”

In contrast, Hans was like a stubborn bull charging at anyone. He would pick a fight even when in a good mood, and as soon as his mood turned sour, he’d throw a punch, at least when it came to those weaker than himself.

There were times when things went wrong due to his failure to properly assess the opponent’s level. The most notable example was his fierce quarrel with Ronan’s hideously ugly brawler three years ago.”

But now things are different. A strong longsword hung from Hans’ hip, a reward from a mercenary band for a mission he had taken last winter.

Swish!

Hans drew his sword. Ronan exclaimed in amazement.

“Oh, A sword?”

“What are you doing standing there gawking?”

Hans’s voice was as intimidating as his stature. The delinquents quickly closed in on the two of them. Aselle couldn’t move as he had to maintain the magic.

“Why don’t you kneel and beg now? I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Do you know how to swing a blade? If you think swinging a stick is the same as swinging a staff, you’re mistaken…”

Thud!Nnêw n0vel chapters are published on n0v/e/(lb)i(n.)co/m

Hans swung his sword vertically. Ronan casually twisted his shoulder and evaded the attack. They had expected a mess, but surprisingly, his stance held up.

“…I was trying to turn you into a one-armed cripple, but luck was on your side.”

“Yeah.”

He was lucky. Ronan genuinely thought so.

Unlike his deteriorated physical strength and stamina, his situational awareness and reaction speed seemed unaffected. Of course, they would need more information on whether Hans, a mere cripple, was his equal or not.

“It’s too late to beg now. If you want to leave, you’ll have to part with an ear or a nostril.”

Ronan didn’t reply. His attention had suddenly shifted back to Aselle. The small boy, struggling to keep the coward from falling from mid-air, couldn’t move due to maintaining the spell.

“Sure enough, my memory didn’t fail me. That kid was a magician…”

Interpreting Ronan’s silence as a sign of weakness, the other boys began to chime in.

“It had already been a couple years. He’s just now a scaredy-cat.”

“Stop acting all high and mighty, and just beg already, you cripple.”

Even though it was Ronan, attempting to face a real sword with a stick thicker than a bedpost was a futile endeavor. Especially since Hans had practiced swordsmanship diligently every day. It wasn’t intentional, but it couldn’t be denied that he was a hard worker.

As the desired atmosphere was being established, Hans put more strength into his shoulder.

“If you die, your sister will think I’m cute if I look after her. Just thinking of touching her round butts…”

Shrill!

At that moment, a whistling sound echoed through the air.

Thunk! A round and broad object dropped between the two.

——————

HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release /invite/dbdMDhzWa2

Read ahead on our /helscans

——————

“Huh?”

No one saw what had happened. Only the stick Ronan had had on his shoulder was now on the ground.

Feeling a sense of discomfort, Hans averted his gaze. One of his sliced ears was now resting on the shoe.

“Huh?… Uh uh?”

Suddenly, a searing pain rushed into Hans’s ear. Hans grabbed the spot where his ear used to be, his sword discarded. Blood gushed out between his fingers.

“Aaaargh! Fuck! My ear!”

“Hey.”

Thud!

Ronan delivered a powerful kick to Hans’s abdomen. Hans doubled over in pain, forgetting about the excruciating loss of his ear. The shock was so profound that he couldn’t catch his breath properly.

“Ughhh…”

“You little orphan bastard.”

He roughly grabbed Hans’s hair and hoisted him up. From Ronan’s now humorless lips, a venomous voice emerged.

“My sister’s butt is what? What were you saying?”

“Kill him! Kill him!!”

Regaining his senses with great effort, Hans screamed while saliva and tears streamed down his face. The hesitant boys began to shout one by one and charged at Hans. Ronan grabbed Hans’s face and pressed it onto the ground, muttering.

“Kids without parents always act up… I don’t have them either, though.”

****

“Hmm? You put him down?”

“Uh, yeah.”

By the time he had finished dealing with the delinquents, Ashel had already let the coward down. Ronan muttered under his breath, his hand brushing against his pants.

“Tch, I’ve definitely gotten weaker. I’m exhausted from just this much.”

Aselle tightly pressed his lips together.

He had gotten weaker?

The incident that had unfolded in about five minutes was embarrassing to even call a fight. The overwhelmingly one-sided violence reminded him of a crazed eagle infiltrating a chicken coop.

Under a nearby tree, the coward’s old bread hat lay rolling on the ground. Ronan picked it up, dusted off the dirt, and placed it on the coward’s head.

“Go home.”

“I-I… um…”

“Don’t worry about them getting back at you or anything. They won’t have the audacity to wander around with their heads up.”

Ronan raised his thumb, pointing towards the scattered delinquents behind him. All of them were treating their broken arms and legs.

“Also, take this.”

Ronan took off the coward’s hat again, slipped a few coins into it, and handed it back. The money came from the delinquents’ pockets.

The coward, his voice trembling, said.

“T-This is too much.”

“It’s fine. I’ve already taken my share.”

“Well, still…”

In his previous life, he was as uninterested as an ant’s belly button, but who would have thought that this seemingly useless fellow would possess such a talent? Ronan didn’t want to miss out on this unexpected stroke of luck.

Ronan’s body had risen to about his own height without him realizing. Aselle was sweating profusely as he focused on his magic.

“Come to think of it, I should try this too.”

Swish! Unexpectedly, Ronan drew his sword. It was the sword that had belonged to Hans, who was now rendered unable to wield a sword. Startled, Aselle tried to release the magic, but Ronan stopped him.

“No, keep it up.”

It was an incomprehensible command. Ashel compiled for now. Ronan lightly ran the sword through the area where telekinesis was at work. A sensation like cutting through water flowed from his fingertips.

Simultaneously, the force that was holding Hans disappeared.

“Huh?!”

Thud.

Aselle stumbled, clutching his rear end. Ronan, who landed gracefully, let out a relieved sigh.