Chapter 101
Chapter 101 — Calix
A duel is a one-on-one contest fought between representatives of each side. It was called the most honorable form of battle, as it allowed victory and defeat to be decided with minimal casualties.
That very sight was unfolding before their eyes.
The battlefield was silent. More than several thousand warriors held their breath and gazed at a single point. At the center of that gaze stood two mounted fighters.
On the left was Helmut Barben, clad in black armor. He gripped the longsword bestowed upon him by the Emperor and held it straight, with the tip angled downward. The air around him radiated overwhelming certainty. Not a trace of fear could be found.
On the right stood a young man in silver armor. A cloak bearing the touch of elven craft billowed in the wind. Calix drew a deep breath from atop his horse.
He had known from the very beginning. That this was an unfavorable fight.
Tzzt-tzzt-tzzt-tzzt.
Helmut Barben's body seemed to tremble faintly. The neural accelerator's output was falling behind. The density of energy was far greater as well. In a battle of momentum, sheer volume could overwhelm — but the clash of blades was an entirely different matter.
Every signal pointed to the other man's advantage.
And yet, there was no retreating.
'I have to finish this here. Rather than allow casualties on our side, I'll end it myself.'
Calix exhaled and sharpened the edge within his heart.
There was a chance. His opponent had just come from fighting Barakh, the Kalahim commander. His body could not be in full condition.
In moments, enormous energy surged from his core, and the neural accelerator quickly surpassed its limit.
[Combat Acceleration Activated, 3.0x]
[…'3.1'x Reached]
In an instant, his vision shifted.
Everything slowed. The dust particles drifting through the air, the sunlight threading between strands of mane, the sound of his heartbeat striking his eardrums — all of it became vivid and immediate.
But he pressed one step further.
[3.2x Reached]
[Physical Tolerance Exceeded]
[Physical Recovery: Maximum Output in Progress]
[Warning: Critical Physical Damage]
From fingertips to toes, every muscle in his body screamed. He had inevitably pushed too far — but measured against the lives of his allies, it was a cheap price to pay.
'At this level, I can at least keep up with his movements.'
Finally, he layered on the most important ability.
Sixth Sense and The Mind's Eye.
The boundary between the real and the unreal blurred, and foresight and intuition intertwined. A special domain that only Calix could perceive. And a moment later, the two men hurled themselves at each other.
'Lower left!'
The enemy's attack was faster than expected. As Helmut swung his sword, Calix predicted the path and met it blade to blade.
That was the mistake.
Clang-crack!
"……Ugh!"
The strike, concentrated with golden energy, shattered his Falling Fire utterly. His blade, Srna, held without breaking, but a single collision was enough to throw his center off balance. There was a fundamental gap in the mastery of energy.
Inferno Fire.
The flow of force twisted along the enemy's attack path. It did not burn through space — it pierced his energy as an extension of pure being itself. Had it not been for his warhorse Lunos, he would have lost his life in a single stroke.
Tap-tap-tap-
Lunos shifted sideways with quick, measured steps. Matching his rider's recoil, the horse stepped back in kind to disperse the force. At the same time, he adjusted the level of his stride to help his rider recover balance.
It was a truly exquisite movement.
But avoidance was avoidance. The enemy's attacks continued without end.
Helmut's sword bent at a diagonal and came crashing down in rapid succession. The trajectory was honest and unwavering. And yet, failing to scatter the power within each strike forced Calix onto the defensive.
Boom!
The moment he barely managed to block the next attack, Calix felt the true nature of Inferno Fire.
'This man……. He is already near completion.'
It was not a simple release of force. A human being's will had ripened on the surface of the blade. The uniform spread of energy arrayed along the edge was plain to see.
The ferocity it produced was nothing short of chilling.
'This won't do. I could lose before his energy runs out.'
It was different from fighting the Master, Imran Akran. If Falling Fire was something that bloomed, then Inferno Fire was something that thrust outward. The mass of energy that reached beyond the blade's edge cut through everything in its path. No matter how he responded, it bored in relentlessly and aimed for his life.
Any hope of counterattack was set aside — he was too busy shifting position with every passing moment just to evade. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.
'I don't need to be equal. I just need to stand on something close to the same ground.'
Crack!
For a split second, Calix lurched in the saddle.
The enemy's strike grazed his left shoulder and passed. The armor was gouged as though flesh had been torn away, and hot blood spread red across it.
Cold sweat traced a line down the back of his neck. But rather than inspect the wound, he chose to look inward.
'I can't raise the neural accelerator's output any higher. In that case…….'
At the end of that thought, he expanded his Mind's Eye. The most special and certain power of inner sight that only Calix possessed.
Then the world blurred. The sound of his pounding heart rang out, then fell silent all at once. Every surrounding sound vanished, and the empty space was filled with sensation.
Not only his own body — Lunos's movements, the grains of earth and the wind's trajectory, even Helmut Barben's energy — he read all of it.
Yet at the same time, it was too much.
Too much information flooded in at once. Because The Mind's Eye had slipped beyond its stable range of control, sensation and reality fell out of sync.
Creak.
Calix bit down on his back teeth without realizing it.
The sword in his own hand looked distant, and the enemy's presence felt impossibly close.
Slash!
In that instant, a scorching heat bloomed across his left forearm. Pain surged in place of blood.
He read the enemy's actions in advance with foresight, but his body could not keep pace. His consciousness ran ahead while his flesh was left behind. A subtle misalignment had formed between foresight and reality. Confusion seeped in through that gap, and the senses pushed too far began to point in opposite directions.
Prrrr.
Then Lunos let out a rough snort. The warhorse instinctively widened its stance and straightened its spine. The moment it sensed its rider wavering, it quietly steadied him.
Calix's torso leaned lightly against the horse's back.
He felt it. There was something holding up the balance he had lost. Strength returned to the fingers gripping the sword. His consciousness, which had been drowning in crisis, slowly came back.
With that, he drew a deep breath and raised his head. His lips were pressed shut, and the hand gripping the reins trembled faintly. The mental blow of being pushed around so completely still lingered like an afterimage.
But he accepted it as it was.
'Right now, reclaiming the flow comes first.'
He consciously tuned his ear to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He worked to steady the excess flow of energy within his body, focusing on realigning his Mind's Eye.
Rather than forcibly pulling back the heightened abilities, he attuned himself to their own rhythm. The tangled threads of sensation scattered in all directions rewound toward a center.
It was true that the shadow of defeat loomed darkly. But even that feeling, he let flow along with the current. Soon his breathing returned to its normal range, and the movements of his hands and feet settled evenly.
Lunos, as if responding in kind, folded both ears back and lowered its center of gravity. They were no longer in a 'rider and warhorse' relationship — they were partners sharing the same current.
And the next moment, Helmut Barben came charging in—
The two men clashed again without a breath between them.
Fwoooom-BOOM!
What followed was a scene much like before. Calix's flames were cut down before they could bloom, and the enemy's sword was already moving toward its next target.
Even so, he responded without panic, steadily and calmly.
Forgetting the threat before him and even the minor wounds, he fixed his gaze on a single thing. As instinct aligned with the flow, the body followed naturally in its wake. At last, Helmut's next movement came into sharp relief.
Slip.
When pushed against, he let himself be pushed. Knowing what the enemy wanted, he gave it to him. Rather than meeting with his weapon, he repositioned his body to let the blow glance away.
That was Lunos's part.
As the hooves traced a half-circle in retreat, the opponent's sword drove down into empty air. Calix wasted no time and thrust the tip of his blade toward the enemy's shoulder.
'Within the range of what I can do, I must seize only what is certain.'
His body moved with the flow.
This time, he was not late.
Shhk-
The moment Helmut raised his sword to deflect it, the blade dipped suddenly downward. It had been aimed at the wrist from the start.
"……!"
He widened his eyes and twisted his right hand sharply upward. As the blade was deflected along the inner edge of the sword, the first counterattack was stopped cold.
Yet something had changed.
Though no meaningful blow had been landed, and he remained at a disadvantage—
The mood of the battlefield had shifted.
[Bloodline Ability Change Detected]
[Ashapel's Instinct/Avatar of the Battlefield '3%' Increase, Currently '55%']
It was from that point onward.
That the perilous, almost-broken dance began to unfold.
***
At some point, Calix's movements changed. The intervals between blade exchanges grew shorter, and the number of counterstrikes increased, if only slightly. The picture shifted from one of being utterly overwhelmed to one of desperate resistance.
Those watching from a distance could clearly see the change as well.
"He's holding on well, but it's far too precarious. Shouldn't we step in and help now?"
Vice-captain Marik spoke with an anxious expression, but Royce quietly shook his head. All of it had been his own choice. If he needed the help of his companions, that too would be Calix's decision to make.
Unwavering trust held in his gaze as he looked toward the heart of the battlefield.
The convictions of two men were clashing violently.
Boom-boom-boom-boom!
Every time blade met blade, an explosion rang out and shockwaves spread outward. The energy of the two men collided again and again at their sword tips. This was no ordinary exchange. Completed Inferno Fire and Falling Fire were interlocked, contesting each other's will within a single domain.
Flashes of light burst upward, and everything within range was hurled outward. The wind screamed and fled, and clouds of dust tumbled all around. Human and beast alike stepped back on instinct.
"Is this……. The battle of those who march toward the realm of Master!"
The elder of Kalahim shielded his face from the dust with his forearm and cried out. The two men danced and intertwined as one. As a desert warrior, he did not want to miss a single moment.
Crack-crack!
Then unseen blades erupted outward. Cuts invisible to the naked eye left faint tremors in the air. Each one carried enough force to carve away flesh.
The energies of both sides collided in the air once more.
Helmut Barben's energy thrust straight outward and displayed its destructive might. Calix's Falling Fire was broken again and again before that violence, yet from within, it continued to grow and resist without cease.
And then, directly after, a decisive twist occurred.
Two swords crossed at the same instant. The blade arced in like a wave, leaving long trails of energy residue. Helmut's attack came crashing down with the speed of a lightning bolt, and Calix met it with his blade a half-beat early.
Clang!
A minute gap formed in the enemy's rhythm. The moment Calix caught that opening, he wrenched the trajectory of his sword upward. Energy borrowing the shape of flame scaled the enemy's upper body in an instant.
Crack-crash-crack!
Then, as though a savage whip had been cracked, part of the armor shattered. The shoulder plate exploded, and fragments of metal flew into the air.
Thud-
But the cost was bone-deep.
Helmut Barben's blade had driven deep into Calix's side.
***
Having stepped back, Helmut's eyes lit with a meaningful gleam. He had not expected him to hold out this long.
'To manage a counterattack in so little time. No wonder he troubled His Majesty's peace of mind.'
An obscure emotion surfaced on his expressionless face. Time seemed to freeze as silence flowed between the two.
For a moment their gazes crossed.
The sword tip lowered. All movement ceased. A distance where even the wind could not reach. Their eyes, theirs alone, connected like a thin, taut thread.
"……Who are you?"
After a flash of golden light in his eyes, Helmut Barben asked in a low voice.
It was a question quite familiar to Calix. It meant acknowledgment of the other — and at the same time, it was a declaration that he would kill him. Meanwhile, blood continued to seep from his right abdomen. With every movement Lunos made, the wound spread open ever so slightly.
His opponent considered this fight already decided. The injury was that deep.
The middle-aged man opened his mouth again.
"I am Helmut Barben. Commanding the Inspection Knights by order of His Imperial Majesty. Who are you?"
Calix did not answer. He pressed his hand against the wound, but blood surged up through his palm.
Had he made the wrong choice?
Yet in his eyes there was neither fear nor anger. Only a quietly settled feeling remained. Rather than letting it roil within him, he turned the question back to himself.
'……Who am I?'
The words were short, but the resonance was deep.
It was not a sudden question. It had been crouching inside his heart for a very long time. Memories he could not speak, a past he wanted to erase, names he had never been able to say aloud.
All of it was contained within a single sentence.
'What am I standing here for, and why am I fighting such a formidable opponent?'
The being before him was demanding that Calix reveal his true nature. Come to think of it, he had been asked the same question all along.
From none other than himself.
'I came all this way without even knowing what kind of person I am.'
He had always been careful and tried to conceal his past. In his desire to rise higher, he had allowed no small mistake. And so he had been afraid.
He did not want his companions to die. To see them off was something he could not yet do — he had not yet told them his story. He had meant to speak of it someday, yet he only ever hesitated and never acted.
He had been frightened.
The weight of expectation placed on him, the burden of responsibility resting on his shoulders — it had felt too heavy to bear. That was perhaps because he had never been able to define what kind of person he was.
He lacked confidence. He lacked certainty. And so, wondering whether he was walking the right path, he had kept turning to look back. If he posed the same question to Basim, he would burst into a broad laugh and say, 'Now that is truly human of you'.
"Do you have no intention of answering? Tch……. Befitting such lowly origins, you have no manners."
But now, he knew what answer he must give.
He accepted the fear within his heart. He tried to embrace the pain of loss, the worry, the anxiety — all of it, as it was. His companions were not beings who made him weak. They were the ones who made Calix strong. Without question, they were the finest support in all the world.
The same was true of his own past.
"Then let us settle this—"
"I am Calix."
If this moment was to be his last, there was no longer any reason to hide. And even if it was not, there was no reason to conceal it.
He straightened his shoulders and spoke with quiet certainty.
"Born as the son of Elnora Ashapel, and living as a member of the Mountain Rabbits."
He had never given this answer even once before — yet the moment he acknowledged the pain of his past and confessed it to the world, a fierce wave of liberation surged through him. The chains binding his heart came undone.
A single answer held within it his entire identity.
Regrettably, however, the other man did not fully grasp the meaning of his words.
"……Ashapel? Surely you do not mean the Ashapel Marquis House?"
Calix confirmed with silence, and Helmut Barben let out an abrupt sigh.
"So the rumors of imperial origins were rampant — and they were true. There was a reason Knight Imran Akran showed mercy! I myself have a deep connection with the Ashapel Marquis. Truly astonishing. So you were that Ashapel!"
He raised his sword to his chest in salute. He would not spare his life, but he intended to honor at minimum the man's dignity. To Niboria, the Ashapel Marquis House held that much significance.
"Shall I call you Calix Ashapel?"
Yet at the same time, he was thoroughly mistaken. The past was something fixed, like a painting. It bore witness to the road traveled — but it could not point the way forward.
"No, that's wrong."
"……?"
"I am Calix."
He would look back no further from this moment on. But neither would he hide or conceal. He would acknowledge his fears — and not be ashamed of them.
The name of the young man standing here, on this plain—
"Mountain Rabbits' Calix."
His heart pounded fiercely. From somewhere deeper than his core, something surged and roiled as if boiling over.
Swooooosh!
Then, all at once, energy whirled around Calix's body. As though a dam had burst, a truly overwhelming explosion of power erupted.
The petals had fallen and summer had arrived — it was time for new branches to grow.
That was all.