Chương 34: A Knife Against the Flames

The defenders answered the Firian fireballs with everything they had. Arrows filled the darkening sky, followed by glowing spears, blades of compressed wind, and projectiles coated in layers of magical frost. The battlefield flashed blue and white as the defenders attempted to strike the advancing Firians before they could reach the barricades. From his position near the supply tents, Sieghart watched hundreds of long-range attacks descend upon the enemy formation.

Some struck their targets, while others exploded against waves of heat that distorted the air and weakened the magic surrounding them. The defenders clearly understood that allowing the Firians to reach close range would be disastrous. Even those armed with swords and axes remained behind the barricades, using enchanted weapons to send attacks across the open field. Unfortunately, the Firians appeared accustomed to that strategy.

They spread apart whenever the magical bows released a volley, preventing the explosions of frost from striking more than one or two warriors. Whenever ordinary arrows approached, they generated sudden bursts of heated air that disrupted the projectiles and sent them spinning away. Some Firians even allowed the fire-enchanted attacks to strike them directly. The flames wrapped around their bodies before sinking beneath their skin, strengthening the reddish glow within their muscles instead of causing damage.

The attackers didn't move like a perfectly organized army, but each group seemed to understand its role. Some rushed forward to draw attacks, while others remained behind them, gathering flames around their fists and waiting for openings. Whenever the defenders concentrated their attacks against one section, the Firians elsewhere accelerated. If the archers changed their targets, the warriors under pressure immediately resumed their advance. Sieghart clicked his tongue as he watched the pattern repeat.

The Firians had probably faced the same defensive strategy countless times during their attacks on the eastern territory. Ranged attacks were their most obvious weakness, so they had spent years learning how to survive them. Even the lightly armored clothing they wore made sense because it allowed them to change direction without being slowed by metal plates. It would have been convenient if they had charged forward while screaming like idiots. Apparently, this world refuses to provide properly cooperative enemies.

Another volley struck the battlefield, freezing several Firians from the waist down. The defenders immediately concentrated their arrows upon the immobilized targets, killing two before the others could break free. The small victory barely slowed the enemy formation. More Firians emerged through the smoke, stepping over the bodies without hesitation.

Their numbers seemed to increase whenever the flames obscured the battlefield, although Sieghart couldn't tell whether new groups were arriving or the smoke merely concealed their approach. The distance made everything look smaller than it truly was, but it couldn't hide the violence. Bodies fell, barricades shattered, and wounded soldiers were dragged away from the front while replacements rushed forward. Sieghart had never seen so many people fighting at once.

His battle against the pig-like monsters at the farm had been frightening, but it had also been simple. He had hidden among the crops, blinded his enemies, and killed them one at a time before they could understand what was happening. This was different. There was nowhere to hide on the front line. The soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder while fireballs descended upon them, trusting the people beside them not to run when the enemy approached. Whenever someone fell, another person had to step into the opening.

Hesitation from a single fighter could endanger everyone standing nearby. Sieghart couldn't hear every scream from his position, but he could see enough to imagine them. The despair spreading through the camp felt so heavy that he could almost sense it crawling across his skin. He saw a soldier leave the front while supporting a companion whose left arm had been burned black. Another wounded man stumbled several steps before collapsing, forcing two healers to drag him behind a tent.

A fireball exploded near one of the barricades, throwing several defenders into the air. Only two of them moved after hitting the ground, and the fighters behind them had no time to check whether the others were still alive. Sieghart's mouth became dry despite the sweat covering his face. He had known people would die in battle, but understanding something through books was entirely different from watching it happen. The soldiers weren't distant names in a history book.

They were people he had traveled beside, people who had stared at his hair, and people who had asked him to charge their weapons during the journey. Some had laughed around the campfires two nights earlier. Others had complained about the food or argued over who snored the loudest inside their tent. Now, some of them were dying within sight of him. Sieghart tightened his hands until his fingernails pressed against his palms.

He couldn't help everyone, but there was one person on that battlefield whom he absolutely refused to lose. His eyes searched the defensive formation until he found Edric among the archers. His grandfather continued firing magical arrows from behind the shield bearers, each shot aimed carefully rather than released in panic. Edric appeared unharmed, but the enemies were drawing closer. What can I do to make sure he comes back alive?

Remaining beside the supplies was the safest choice, yet safety felt increasingly useless while the battle line moved toward his grandfather. Sieghart needed a way to help without rushing blindly into close combat. Before he could settle upon an answer, a bright blue light erupted near the center of the formation. One of the defenders stepped onto the remains of a barricade and raised his sword. The man wore silver armor over a dark-blue uniform, and a pale Aura surrounded his body.

Instead of swinging immediately, he pressed two fingers against the bottom of his blade. He slowly moved them toward the tip. A layer of frost followed his touch, coating the entire sword in glimmering ice. Cold mist poured from the weapon and rolled across the battlefield, briefly overpowering the heat released by the Firians. The swordsman swung once. A crescent-shaped wave of freezing air crossed thirty meters and struck the approaching enemies.

Ice spread across their clothing and skin, locking three Firians in place while slowing several others. The swordsman leaped over the broken barricade before the frozen warriors could recover. His blade passed through the neck of the first Firian, changed direction, and cut deeply into the chest of the second. The third managed to raise one burning hand, but the swordsman twisted aside and stabbed through his throat.

The ice covering the blade immediately spread into the wound, extinguishing the flames around the Firian's body. Sieghart stared without blinking. That was definitely Aura. Either that, or dramatic sword-touching is an essential part of ice magic in this world. The swordsman was powerful, but his technique didn't appear limitless. The blue glow surrounding him weakened after several attacks, and his breathing became noticeably heavier.

He retreated behind the shield line before the remaining Firians could surround him. Several defenders opened a path, allowing him to recover while another Aura user took his place. The second fighter carried a long spear and wore only light leather armor. Green light gathered around his legs as he leaned forward, making the dust beneath his boots spin outward. He moved. Sieghart almost lost sight of him. The spearman shot across the battlefield like an arrow, stopping directly before the nearest Firian.

His weapon stabbed forward so quickly that its shaft blurred into a single dark line. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. One thrust became three, then six, then too many for Sieghart to count. The spearhead tore through shoulders, knees, throats, and exposed stomachs before the Firians could properly defend themselves. Every movement produced a sharp burst of wind.

The pressure alone cut shallow wounds across nearby enemies, forcing them to protect their faces while the spearman changed targets. For several seconds, he appeared unstoppable. Then one Firian caught the spear. The warrior's burning hand closed around the metal shaft, and the heat immediately spread toward the spearman's grip. Instead of wrestling for control, the Aura user released his weapon and spun. His heel struck the Firian's temple with enough force to throw the man sideways.

The spearman retrieved his weapon before it touched the ground and retreated behind the defensive formation. Fast, experienced, and smart enough to release his weapon instead of letting pride hold him in place. Fighting him directly would be an excellent way to become a five-year-old corpse. Sieghart began thinking of possible counters before he could stop himself. A wide layer of sand might reveal the spearman's path, while soft mud could interfere with his acceleration.

Walls of earth could restrict his movements, but Sieghart would need to create them quickly enough. Attacking from several directions might overwhelm the man's reaction speed, although his ability to retreat remained a problem. The most reliable solution would be to keep him trapped within a continuous barrage. Infinite mana made that theoretically possible, but Sieghart's mind still limited how many spells he could control simultaneously. His mana pool was endless. His processing power wasn't.

Another Aura user stepped forward near the northern side of the formation. She carried an enchanted bow and had a pair of quivers strapped across her back, although neither held ordinary arrows. Golden light spread from her shoulders to her fingers as she drew the empty string. Five magical arrows appeared at once, each aimed in a slightly different direction. She released them. Before the first group reached the enemy, she had already drawn the string again.

Another five arrows appeared, followed by another five after those. The woman emptied every magical charge stored within her bow in less than three seconds. Dozens of golden projectiles descended upon the Firians, curving through the air to pursue those who attempted to dodge. The impacts sounded like a storm striking a metal roof. Several enemies fell, their bodies pierced by glowing arrows that vanished shortly after entering their flesh. The bow stopped shining once its stored mana was exhausted.

The archer immediately threw it toward a soldier behind her and accepted another charged weapon without looking away from the battlefield. Sieghart felt his eyebrows rise. That one would kill me before I finished deciding which spell to use. Protection might stop one or two arrows, but it wouldn't endure an entire volley. Earth walls offered better defense, although the projectiles' ability to curve through the air would make simple cover unreliable.

A cloud of sand could hide his position, while continuous wind might disrupt the arrows' paths. If neither worked, firing enough spells to force the archer onto the defensive might prevent her from drawing the string. Every answer depended upon preparation. If those Aura users attacked without warning, Sieghart doubted he would last more than several seconds. Infinite mana gave him unmatched endurance, but endurance meant nothing if his opponent killed him immediately. The realization was sobering.

Sieghart had destroyed a boulder by firing enough weak Fireballs at it, but boulders didn't dodge. They didn't possess combat instincts, unleash special techniques, or cross dozens of meters before he could react. The pig-like monsters had been dangerous to an ordinary child, yet they were slow, uncoordinated, and unaware of his location. Comparing them to trained Aura users was like comparing angry farm animals to professional soldiers. Infinite mana doesn't mean I can defeat these people with a fart.

Even if I eventually invent a spell for that, I doubt it will become the foundation of my combat style. The thought almost made him smile, but another explosion erased his amusement. A fireball struck the front of the formation, engulfing several shield bearers and forcing the defenders behind them to scatter. The Firians charged into the opening. The ice swordsman intercepted the first two, but three more rushed past him. The spearman turned to stop them, only for another group to attack from his flank.

The defenders had powerful fighters, yet the Firians were forcing them to use their strongest techniques continuously. Even if Aura recovered naturally, the strain on their bodies would eventually slow them. Sieghart understood the true danger of a prolonged battle. The strongest Aura users weren't merely explosive fighters who became useless after a single attack. They possessed trained bodies capable of fighting for long periods, and their abilities made every movement more efficient.

The ice swordsman could kill ordinary enemies without activating his freezing technique. The spearman remained dangerous even after the green light around his legs faded. The archer could switch to normal arrows after exhausting her enchanted bow. Against opponents like them, Sieghart couldn't rely upon surviving until their energy disappeared. They could conserve their strength while pressuring him, forcing him to maintain several spells at once.

He needed attacks capable of injuring them quickly, defenses that activated almost instantly, and movement spells reliable enough to escape whenever a fight turned against him. His current abilities weren't enough. Fireball was powerful when he cast it repeatedly, but any skilled Aura user could dodge the first few attacks and close the distance. Water Creation had developed into a dangerous concentrated stream, although aiming it against fast targets remained difficult.

Wind propulsion improved his mobility, but it lacked precision whenever he increased its strength. Earth magic offered control, yet Sieghart couldn't create large walls quickly enough to stop a charging fighter. Protection was the most reliable spell he possessed, and even that had never been tested against a real weapon wielded by someone with a combat Aura. I've spent years building a foundation.

Apparently, the foundation is still missing walls, a roof, doors, and anything else that stops people from entering and stabbing me. His mentality had increased tremendously through Mana Transfusion, allowing him to cast longer and control spells with less effort. However, he still lacked the experience required to turn that advantage into victory against trained warriors. If the battle continued, he would have plenty of opportunities to study Aura users.

The problem was surviving long enough to apply whatever he learned. More wounded soldiers retreated from the front. Healers and assistants rushed forward to drag the injured away, but the flow of burned bodies was becoming faster than they could manage. Sieghart searched for his grandfather again. Edric had moved closer to the center of the formation. Several barricades had collapsed, forcing the archers to retreat behind a second defensive line made from sharpened wooden stakes.

His grandfather released another magical arrow. It struck a Firian in the shoulder and spun him around, but the bow's red glow faded immediately afterward. The weapon had run out of charges. Edric pulled the string again, apparently checking whether one final arrow remained. Nothing appeared, and his expression hardened as several Firians forced their way through the broken line. A soldier ran past him carrying a charged bow, but another archer grabbed it first.

No replacement weapon remained nearby, and there wasn't enough time for Edric to retreat toward Sieghart. The back line moved. Archers who still possessed ammunition continued firing as they stepped away from the advancing Firians. Those with empty weapons turned and ran toward the supply tents, creating a widening gap around Edric. Sieghart's grandfather looked over his shoulder, measured the distance to safety, and made his decision.

Instead of trying to outrun the approaching enemies, he placed his enchanted bow carefully upon the ground. Then he drew the knife from his waist. It was a practical farm knife with a thick blade, the same one Edric sometimes used to cut rope, trim branches, or clean fish. It wasn't enchanted, and it wasn't designed to fight warriors who could tear through shield walls. Sieghart clicked his tongue so loudly that a wounded soldier nearby turned toward him. What happened to telling me not to be brave?

Does the rule only apply when you're the one giving orders? Edric lowered his stance while two Firians approached. The first carried a curved blade covered in flames, while the second fought with his bare hands. His grandfather possessed some combat experience, but he wasn't like the Aura users Sieghart had just studied. His Aura assisted with farming, and most of his battlefield value came from the enchanted bow now resting uselessly behind him. Against one exhausted Firian, he might survive.

Against two, the odds looked terrible. Against the additional enemies breaking through the line behind them, survival would require a miracle or an unreasonable amount of mana. Sieghart happened to have one of those things. He looked at the weapons surrounding him. Several enchanted bows were fully charged, but carrying them to Edric would take too long. Shooting from his current position risked hitting the defenders, especially with his limited experience. A direct Fireball barrage was equally useless.

The Firians would absorb the flames, and Sieghart might strengthen the very enemies threatening his grandfather. Water was the obvious answer, but his concentrated stream could strike only one target at a time. The battlefield contained too many enemies, and several defenders stood between him and Edric. Sieghart needed something wider. He needed an attack that wouldn't kill allied soldiers, something capable of weakening the Firians while slowing their advance. It didn't have to defeat them by itself.

The Aura users could handle the killing. I don't need to win the battle. I only need to change it.