[491] A New Variable (4)
"Hmm."
Mitgun forced power into the hand holding the dagger, but Ethella's strength felt almost mechanical in its intensity.
Even with a blade quivering at her throat, the first thing Mitgun felt was confusion.
What happened? She was definitely dead.
Life-Strengthening Art of the Yin–Yang Wave Fist.
A technique that momentarily stops breathing and raises abdominal pressure to explosively boost power.
Frankwein's blow had been so strong it caused a brief cardiac arrest.
If I'd been a moment slower, that would've been bad.
Now fully conscious, Ethella slowly pushed Mitgun's wrist away.
Sensing the change, Mitgun abandoned the thrust and lunged forward, and at that same instant Ethella's kick sprang up.
Mitgun, who'd nearly suffered the same hit Frankwein had taken to his vital point, shuddered and instinctively cupped his groin.
Unless you'd sold your soul to a demon, that place was never something you'd welcome being struck.
Ethella scrambled up and assumed a fighting stance.
The wound still throbbed, but she straightened despite the pain and snapped at him.
"Are you insane? Selling your soul to a demon."
Ethella had not seen Satan himself, but as a monk she could sense it.
No ordinary human could carry that degree of evil.
"I learned it from working for the boss," Mitgun said, tilting his head.
"If it can be sold, nothing's precious."
As Ethella sprang forward, Mitgun raised both fists and readied himself.
The essence of the Yin–Yang Wave Fist whipped around like a storm, and Mitgun kept bending at the waist to dodge, all he could do was evade.
Mirror Cycle — Incident Reflection.
The instant Ethella's fist struck his side, an identical impact detonated from her own ribs.
"Kugh!"
Seizing the opening, Mitgun hit Ethella across the face and her body spun like a top, sliding back several meters.
"You can't touch my body."
With the air of someone who feared nothing, Mitgun rubbed his fist and advanced slowly.
His Mirror Cycle perceived the body as a mirror and reflected the incident itself.
It was a power manifested through distortions of the three fields—time, space, and mind—from the world he'd come from.
He perceived a mental mirror to reflect the incident, distorted space to realize that mirror, then warped time until the mirror was implemented in that space, projecting the mind into reality.
"It's embarrassing since it's been broken before."
To stop the incident reflection, you had to shatter the mirror lodged in Mitgun's cognition.
Gaold at headquarters had pulled it off once, but Ethella's fists were nowhere near enough.
"One woman is more than enough," Mitgun said, attacking first this time.
Realizing incidents would be reflected back carried a psychological weight beyond the damage itself.
But through long training, Ethella had crushed her fear and countered Mitgun's assault.
In pure fist technique, she held the advantage, but Mitgun had no reason to dodge.
"Hrrrgh!"
Every incident sent at Mitgun was reflected, and waves began to ripple across Ethella's body.
As if standing before a mirror, she fell into the illusion that she was striking herself rather than Mitgun.
That realization warned her: if she delivered the final blow here, the one to shatter would be her, not him.
"No—"
Mitgun's voice grew distant as his cells trembled and consciousness began to slip.
Don't give up! You must—!
She had to stop Frankwein.
After being defeated by the Arcane, her resolve toward the Line had only hardened.
And now, facing the enemy she had always imagined, that resolve filled her entire being and erased every doubt about the Line.
Her head felt like it was splitting open, but it wasn't pain—it was an otherworldly release.
What is this?
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Ethella's fists cut through the Mirror Cycle and drove muffled impacts into Mitgun with every strike.
Yin–Yang Wave Fist — Secret Art: Divine Transcendence, Incarnation Blow.
"Damn it!"
A technique that transmits force from one incarnation to another through the power of Incarnation.
The shockwave rattled Mitgun's mind beyond his body, and the Mirror Cycle began to crack.
Sensing the danger, Mitgun tried to retreat, but his legs had gone weak and he staggered.
Ethella closed in fast and thrust both hands into his abdomen.
The Mirror Cycle still functioned, but her movements to break the mirror held no hesitation.
Thunderclap Chamber.
Paaaaaang!
Countless waves that had swirled within were swept into one pulse and a brutal shockwave exploded outward.
Mitgun, hit in the gut, slowly lowered his fists and stood there a long moment.
He staggered back and spat a mouthful of blood.
"Hrrrgh!"
Ethella bent at the waist, clutching her fists as she gathered the waves radiating through her body.
She'd damaged the mirror by striking Mitgun's mind, but even if she hadn't she would have used the same attack.
It took that level of resolve to drive an Incarnation's blow into an enemy.
Paradoxically, that conviction smashed him, and Ethella stepped toward Mitgun sprawled on the ground.
"Don't move. If I treat you now, you might live."
Mitgun didn't respond.
He had never once in his life begged for his life.
"…You're a strange woman."
He weakly raised a hand, took a disk from his inner pocket, and tossed it at Ethella's feet.
"Take it to the boss."
His eyes slowly closed.
"He'll probably like it."
Ethella slipped the disk into her robes and bowed her head over Mitgun's body, mourning his death.
"Phew."
When she opened her eyes again, they shone far clearer than before the fight.
I can sense it—where he is.
Everything snapped into focus the moment she awakened the Incarnation Technique.
Frankwein's incarnation was not human.
Absolute evil.
A vast malevolence rode the wind from far-off Jebul.
* * *
Kurrrrrrr!
The walls of heaven were collapsing on all sides.
The roar that shook earth and sky was so thunderous that shouting beside someone wouldn't be heard, and choking dust rose so thickly you couldn't see an arm's length.
Even deprived of sight and hearing, the rebels' advance showed no sign of stopping.
"Sis! Only ten kilometers to Arabot!"
At Rena's transmission, the first glimmer of hope lit Kanya's eyes.
Most rebels had fled through the collapsed walls into Jebul, but the First Command had stayed in Matei and kept pressing forward.
Matei was the only strategic point that could block the route into Jebul, and someone had to stay to delay the pursuers.
We can win! We really can!
If they reached Arabot—if they could reach Anke Ra—the war would be over.
Ra would not move.
Like the sun, he was an absolute presence; he would neither fight nor flee.
Kanya swept the multi-vision across the battlefield.
Everyone fought fiercely without sparing their lives, but the standout performers were not humans but machines.
The archangel-class ancient war engine, Babel.
The power from its mighty engine exceeded a giant's strength, and its blade-like fingers sliced through tough muscle with ease.
Unbelievable. Who in the world built that—
Kanya forced the thought down.
As one of the Mecha people she admired Babel's design, but she could not afford to admire an enemy.
-Enemy sighted! A great army!
Alerted, Kanya snapped back and checked the visions.
A massive force of giants filled the view, charging forward.
"We'll cover you! Provide support!"
One hundred and twenty Nor halted and prepared a group spell, and Kuroi's unit escorted them with precise coordination.
The ancient magic Estacion required over a hundred mages linked mentally.
The air within a hundred-meter radius tore to pieces, and the flesh of the giants began to be sheared away.
Even through vision, the savage force of the magic hit like a physical blow.
"Sis! It's not working!"
Rena cried in terror.
Despite Estacion's strike, not one giant fell.
Their durability was on another level from any giants they'd faced before.
They were commanders who'd reached Rank 5 of Ilhwa's Art.
"Crush them! They're just insects!"
The giants, each brandishing their own weapons, tore through the rebel camp.
Every time a blade flashed, a Kuroi unit was sliced apart; the sheer wind of the slashes sent people flying.
-Map weapon activated. Codename: Babel.
Babel descended and transformed into map-weapon mode.
Its torso opened, limbs wedged into the ground, and a massive barrel studded with a huge glass sphere trained on the giants.
Pew—pew—pew—pew!
Volleys from the photoelectron cannons punched holes through the bodies of the giants filling the horizon.
Kanya and all the rebels watched in stunned silence.
The one feeling they allowed themselves was a faint, desperately real flicker of hope—that maybe, just maybe, they could win.
"The flailing of insects is so pathetic I can hardly bear to watch."
One giant stood atop Matei's wall, watching the clash between giants and humans.
Girsin, commander of the giant legion.
Three meters tall, black cloak billowing, a long broad-bladed double-edged sword in his hand.
He'd reached Rank 7 of Ilhwa's Art; he couldn't match Imir at Rank 10, but in raw might he was unquestionably the giants' absolute second-in-command.
"Imir, I will end this war in your stead."
Girsin leapt from the wall to the ground.
On arrival he spun and swung his sword; rebels within ten meters were cleaved in two before they knew what hit them.
"Enemy! Surround him!"
Those who saw Girsin turned as one.
They still didn't know what kind of monster stood before them, and by the time they realized, their brains and bodies were already separated.
Girsin did not stop; he surged into the heart of the rebel force.
Like wind playing with feathers, his every motion sent humans tumbling, and every swing painted the air with blood.
"Rena! It's dangerous!"
Kanya, watching through multi-vision, twisted toward Kuroi's direction in an instant.
From the sight of Girsin's single sword she could tell he was a different caliber of opponent.
Girsin cleaved straight toward Rena, raising his double-edged sword to strike—just then Kanya threw herself in front and aimed her barrel.
"Foolish."
Before she could pull the trigger, the barrel was sliced clean and the unit split in two.
The cockpit fell and a tremendous impact followed, but Kanya clung to consciousness with everything she had.
Every screen on multi-vision showed Girsin swinging his sword.
"Kugh!"
As she hit emergency ejection, the Kuroi unit was cut apart like a log.
The seat shot out and tumbled across the ground; Rena had no time to check herself and scanned her surroundings.
"Rena!"
Girsin barreled past the severed Kuroi toward Rena.
"Noooo!"
Kanya's heart teetered toward stopping with Rena's life—until a gray flash flew and cut across Girsin's path.
Kaaang!
The harsh metallic ring cut through the chaos and stabbed at Kanya's ears.
"Hoh?"
Girsin raised an eyebrow at the appearance of a mechanical device that could withstand a Rank 7 giant's force.
"That rings a bell. It used to be fun."
"Babel protects Kanya and Rena."
Kanya scrambled to Rena and dragged her stunned sister into an embrace.
But why?
Babel had been in the middle of battle; there was no reason for a map weapon to disengage and come rescue Kanya and Rena.
It was a thoroughly human decision.
In Shirone's algorithm, protecting Kanya and Rena was only the third-priority option.
But because of that, Babel moved.
Kanya would never know the truth: from the moment Girsin appeared, the first and second priorities in her head had been erased.
And that meant, by Babel's transcendent calculation, the probability of victory had converged to zero.