Chapter 42

My sword, shimmering with a faint glow, sliced cleanly through the ogre’s massive thighs. A trail of brilliant light lingered in the air where the blade had passed, and through that afterimage, the chaos of the battlefield flickered into view.

“Grrrraaagh!”

When its thighs split apart above and below the cut, the ogre’s scream thundered across the field. It was only natural that all eyes were drawn here. No—this was something I had already expected.

The ogre, crippled by the strike, toppled forward. Its upper body sagged low, and in front of me its grotesque green face twisted in pain. Even the yellowed teeth inside its slightly open mouth were visible to me with perfect clarity, thanks to my sharpened senses.

“Grrk.”

Its neck parted easily—too easily. Ogre hide was tough, but with my blade sheathed in sword aura, and the speed I generated at the instant of impact, the head rolled free in one clean stroke.

“Huh?”

“Graaaaah!”

I had just turned toward the ogre pressing down on the knights when someone’s dazed voice brushed my ear. It was quickly drowned beneath another beast’s roar.

The ogre turned its furious eyes on me, ignoring the knights completely. A massive fist swung down with surprising speed for its size.

“He… he vanished!”

By the time the word “-nished” left the knight’s mouth, my vision was already filled with the ogre’s massive back. I had kicked off the ground, soared upward, and drove my sword straight into the crown of its skull.

The blade split the monster’s insides in two, tearing all the way down until it burst out between its legs. Blood spattered as I pulled free, shaking the sword to fling off the crimson stains. From its spine, darker blood than its skin tone began to leak out.

That strike had used golden sword aura—the peak of refinement. The ordinary white aura would never have been enough to cleave through its spine cleanly, so I had chosen certainty.

My sudden shift behind it hadn’t been illusion technique. That left afterimages too clearly.
And beyond that was the kind of movement so fast no afterimage remained—but the human body couldn’t endure that.

Without fully sheathing myself in protective qi, the pressure alone would crush me. Possible, maybe, but wasteful. That was why I had used magic instead—Blink, a 4th-class spell that warped the caster a short distance instantly.

“Am… amazing…”

The voice came from behind me, trembling with awe. I glanced back at the slack-jawed knight, then turned away and raced toward the left flank, where another ogre staggered with an injured leg.

The scene unfolded at once in my view—the bloodstained forest path, the deadlocked knights, the hulking beasts.

“Go… go… gold.”

As I slashed for the wounded ogre’s throat, a faint murmur reached my ears.

Gold? Did he just say gold?

What did color matter here? They didn’t understand.

Halbert, the knight leading this unit, felt both confusion and awe as he watched Kain cut down the ogres with ease.

Halbert himself was a Sword Expert. Under the banner of a count, he had brought his personally trained knights here to gain real combat experience, since monsters appeared often in this area. When the ogres had shown up, he’d ordered his men to fight.

But knights with almost no real battle experience had no chance against ogres. Once injuries piled up, Halbert had no choice but to step in himself. Looking at the mangled men, he already knew: some would never return to knighthood. Some would never even live normally again. Even if he killed the ogres and returned, the count’s punishment was unavoidable. Failing to protect the count’s cherished knights was unforgivable.

His thoughts soured, and his face twisted. Just as he forced it back into composure and raised his sword at an ogre, something flashed. At least, it looked like a flash to him.

A heartbeat later, while he was still stunned, the ogre ahead of him let out a terrible scream. Halbert snapped back to his senses and gripped his weapon tight, watching its every move.

Charging in recklessly was a fool’s move. That much, he had been drilled into his bones through brutal knightly training. Especially when the opponent wasn’t to be underestimated.

As he focused, there was another flash, then a sickening gurgle from the ogre. Moments later its head hit the ground. But it wasn’t just the head that shocked him—it was the upper body itself, split cleanly at the thighs, collapsing in pieces.

“Huh?”

Still reeling, Halbert didn’t even register one of his knights letting out a dazed murmur nearby. His eyes instead locked onto a figure ahead of him.

Black hair. Black tunic. Black trousers. The man’s hair reached his shoulders, his frame tall and imposing. Though the air was still, his hair swayed as if stirred by wind.

Before Halbert could take another breath, the figure vanished—blurring forward so fast Halbert could barely process it. In the next instant, he was already at the front, where an ogre was pressing knights to the brink.

“He… he vanished?”

Halbert’s mind reeled. He’d seen the ogre swing down its massive fist with terrifying speed. If it had been him there, dodging would have been impossible. His only choice would have been to brace and strike back. And yet—the figure had simply disappeared.

Another flash. This time, it came from the crown of the ogre’s head.

“G-gold aura?”

Halbert froze. From his forehead down to his waist, a shimmering trace of gold light lingered. His jaw dropped. Impossible. A mercenary here using gold aura?

And the man’s face, revealed through the falling halves of the ogre, was far too young. Twenty-three at the most.

Gold aura at that age? Unthinkable. But the voice beside him confirmed what his eyes refused to believe.

“Go… gold.”

The knight at his side stammered out the words, a mix of awe and shock. The murmur spread, passed from mouth to mouth, until every person present had heard it.

Exclamations rose across the battlefield—even from the merchants. Sharn, in particular, looked most shaken.

He had always thought of the boy as beneath him. At best, a trickster who had conned his way into an A-rank. Young, arrogant, undeserving. But gold aura? That burned away all doubt.

Gold aura alone elevated a mercenary into the Special Rank. There were perhaps ten such mercenaries across the entire continent. And if one could wield sword force—Aura Spirit—they became Special S-rank. Only three existed on the whole Arkanis Continent. So rare that even among themselves, they often didn’t know of each other’s existence.

“Prepare to move.”

Kark¹ had already closed the distance to Sharn, speaking with an expressionless face and not the faintest trace of exhaustion. Their eyes met for an instant, and Sharn turned away reflexively.

Though Kark spoke in blunt, casual words—far from proper knightly address—no one dared object. His voice carried an undeniable weight, and his eyes… they threatened to swallow anyone who met them. Not a single person raised a complaint.