Can a human fly through the sky with nothing but their own body?

Without relying on any magical means, can humanity escape the shackles of gravity and become truly free?

Here, one dark mage offers an answer to that question.

With a Sword Master's help, yes.

BOOOOOOM!

His brief flight over, Zarkan landed with a thunderous crash. Using the back and crown of his head, he achieved a stable landing—

CRACK!

CRUNCH! BAM! GRRRRIND!

—and lay twitching with half his head buried in the ground.

As the building caught in that spectacular landing collapsed with heavy booms, Najin blinked, forgetting even to swing his sword. What had he just seen?

"Urrrrgh... Huh?"

Najin was not the only one.

The dark mage who had been screaming in his grip also stopped for a moment, staring at Zarkan embedded in the ground with an expression that plainly said, What did I just see?

"Gasp! Lord Zarkan?"

Realizing that the man planted in the ground was their boss, he opened his eyes wide. Najin was touched by the loyalty that made him worry about his boss first, even while held by the collar.

'Still, work is work.'

CRACK!

Najin broke the dark mage's neck. Pushing the limp body aside, he glanced at Zarkan, who was writhing in the ground. Was that thing even alive?

'His neck's bent at a right angle. Is he really alive?'

-Uh... I have my doubts, but he's moving, so I suppose he is?

'If he can survive with his neck bent like that, doesn't that mean he isn't human?'

He was half serious, half joking.

Unintentionally, however, Najin had hit upon the truth.

Zarkan's body heaved. Black liquid streamed from his twitching body and seeped into his neck, bent at a right angle. Then his neck returned to its proper position amid a series of cracks.

CRACK! CRRRACK!

'So he really isn't human.'

Najin clicked his tongue in disbelief.

The black sludge flowing from his body was the substance known as demonic energy, something only demons possessed. Apparently, the man before him was the dark mage who had summoned the demon.

But why was the dark mages' leader here, right in front of him?

Najin suddenly looked up. Following the direction Zarkan had flown from, he spotted the uppermost level of Valdernos's old castle. It was too far away to see clearly, but a woman was waving at him from the top. A woman with snow-white hair. Yuel Razian.

-That bitch is completely fucking insane...

Merlin muttered in disbelief, and Najin let out a hollow laugh. She had thrown a person all the way from there to here? Her physical abilities were ridiculous.

"Cough, ack. Ptooey."

Zarkan rose amid the dust.

He spat out the blood clogging his throat and wiped his mouth. Despite having slammed into the ground from that height, at that speed, there was not a single wound on his body. More precisely, there had been wounds, but now there weren't.

Hard as it was to believe from that sorry spectacle, Zarkan was, surprisingly, a powerful dark mage.

In a society where mages were classified as archmages from the Eighth Circle onward, Zarkan had attained the Sixth Circle. His strength was not to be dismissed. To subjugate him in his own stronghold, as they were doing now, would require at least a squad of Sword Experts and two fighters of Sword Seeker caliber.

And with a demon added to the mix? Without the help of inquisitors or demon hunters who specialized in hunting demons, defeating Zarkan would be extremely difficult. Fighting a demon contractor, a walking collection of unpredictable variables, was no easy task.

So Zarkan was undeniably formidable.

'He certainly ought to be.'

Najin narrowed his eyes.

After witnessing that disgraceful landing, even the ever-serious Najin found it difficult to remain wary of his opponent.

"Goddammit."

Zarkan cursed and scowled.

A wave of his hand dispersed the dust. His face twisted into a grimace as he swept his gaze over his surroundings. His subordinates' corpses lay scattered everywhere, and at their center stood a boy.

"Was this your doing? And who the hell are you?"

Zarkan snarled, glaring at Najin.

Demonic energy spread around his body, and his ferocious presence bore down on the area. He meant to intimidate Najin, but it had absolutely no effect.

SHING!

Najin answered Zarkan's first question by raising his sword. Yes, he had done it. He kindly answered the question of who he was, too.

"Najin."

A constellation blossomed over his raised sword.

"The Dawnstar."

Dawnstar, the star that heralded the end of night.

Two stars shone in the night sky.

2.

A demon contractor. Someone who entered a contract with a demon to borrow its strength or powers. Najin had fought such a being once before.

The Demon Knight, Berheigen.

An opponent Najin had slain with Excalibur.

Berheigen, a Sword Expert at the time, had become a fighter of Sword Seeker caliber by contracting with a demon. Once he deployed his barrier and began using the demon's power, his strength had placed him among the upper ranks of Sword Seekers.

-Normally, they don't get that much stronger. It happened because the demon he contracted with was fairly high-ranking.

Arkand, the ancient demon.

Merlin had explained that such growth had been possible because the demon Berheigen contracted with was exceptionally powerful. When Najin heard that explanation, he had thought to himself:

It was not his own strength that had won him victory over Berheigen. He had only prevailed by resorting to Excalibur, a weapon that was practically cheating.

Then how strong would he have to become to defeat that man without Excalibur? Even after becoming a Sword Seeker, Najin had often wondered. The Berheigen he had seen inside that barrier had been overwhelming.

Now, an opportunity to answer that question had arrived.

'Merlin.'

-Yes?

'How strong is this dark mage, Zarkan? Compared to Berheigen back then, I mean.'

-About the same, probably? He should be a little stronger than Berheigen was. The demon he contracted with hasn't shown itself yet, so I can't be sure, but judging by his demonic energy, I doubt it's above middle rank.

Stronger than Berheigen with his barrier deployed.

Najin smiled in satisfaction at the answer. This was an opportunity to prove his growth. Roughly half a year had passed since he slew the Demon Knight. He wanted to test how much stronger he had become in those six months.

The smile vanished from Najin's face.

Zarkan, oblivious to the change, was still snarling at him when Najin lowered his sword. He sank into a low stance. Drawing his arm back behind him, he took a short breath.

One breath.

The moment he exhaled—

Zarkan's eyes lost track of Najin's movement. Yet Najin had not vanished from his sight. Quite the opposite. Najin alone filled his vision. Closing the distance in an instant, Najin swung his sword.

BOOOOOOOM!

A thunderous roar erupted as the demonic energy surrounding Zarkan collided with Najin's sword aura. It was absurdly loud for a sound produced by a sword swing. With the noise, both of Zarkan's feet left the ground. His demonic energy had withstood the sword aura's impact, but his body had not.

It was the same principle as striking an opponent's helmet with a hammer: the helmet might only dent slightly, while the head inside cracked or suffered a concussion.

"Gah!"

The unexpected blow forced a strangled breath from Zarkan. But that was as far as he would let it go. He had no intention of allowing Najin to continue attacking. Zarkan swung his arm. He was a mage of the Force Field School, which manipulated invisible shock waves, and his preferred spells had not changed merely because he had taken up dark magic.

Wrapping a force field around his arm, he struck Najin's sword.

CLANG!

Zarkan was driven straight backward.

"..."

Zarkan glanced at his arm.

Despite the force field and demonic energy wrapped around it, the bones were broken. Black sludge quickly welled up and reset them, but Zarkan could not hide his dismay.

He could feel that great chunks of his demonic energy and mana had been shaved away.

A demon's power was not infinite. Even if the power of those demons living in the Outer Lands was infinite, the amount Zarkan could borrow from them was not. The moment this demonic energy ran out, he would be reduced to an ordinary human.

He could not allow that.

Zarkan looked at Najin.

Najin merely aimed his sword at him, its sword aura trailing, without charging. That unhurried demeanor irritated Zarkan.

What was the point of fighting this brat?

Even if he killed the boy, there was no way he would survive. If the brat had been weak, he would have disposed of him quickly and at least attempted to flee... but this opponent was no pushover.

What a load of shit.

Zarkan's expression twisted.

Just as his eyes were about to scan the area, intending to ignore Najin and flee instead, a voice spoke.

-Oh, I forgot to tell you something.

The voice rang in Zarkan's ears.

His eyes wavered.

It was Yuel Razian's voice, utterly devoid of inflection. How could it reach him across such a vast distance? Voice transmission—a technique made possible by a Sword Master's transcendent control of mana.

The voice carried on that mana said:

-If you defeat that boy, I will let you live.

-There are noble people who give their all even in the face of certain death, but you aren't one of them, are you? I imagine you will need an appropriate reward to exert yourself fully.

Yuel's voice trembled, ever so slightly.

Not with fear, but with ecstasy.

-I swear it on my name.

-Please, do give it your all.

The woman was completely insane. But Zarkan could not refuse her offer. If he was going to die either way, he might as well believe her.

'The Order's executioner is a capricious lunatic. But she doesn't lie. I have no choice but to trust her word.'

Zarkan glared at Najin and opened his mouth.

His deliberation was brief, his decision swift.

"O great Marphos."

"Grant me strength." The moment Zarkan murmured those words, his back split open. Three arms, each with seven fingers, erupted from the wound.

Marphos, a middle-ranking demon.

A demon with seven arms, each bearing seven fingers.

The concept it governed was refraction.

The corners of Zarkan's mouth twitched. Through his contract with Marphos, he had been granted three of its arms. The feeling of omnipotence that came from being connected to a higher being filled him with ecstasy. He felt certain he could wield not merely Sixth-Circle magic, but Seventh-Circle magic as well.

Two human arms. Three demonic arms.

Ten fingers and twenty-one fingers.

For mages of the Force Field School, who manipulated force fields through their ten fingers, gaining even one extra finger or arm held tremendous significance. If it was a demon's arm, there was no need to say more.

It was no coincidence that the Force Field School, alongside the Fresh Blood School, produced the greatest number of demon contractors. Force fields and demons were highly compatible.

"Haaa!"

Zarkan burst out laughing and swung his arms. The demonic arms that had torn through his back moved at his command, as though they had always belonged to him.

One force field for each finger. Twenty-one force fields joined the ten he had originally wielded.

KRRRRRACK!

The force fields bore down on Najin, crushing and bursting the ground indiscriminately. Najin, who had been waiting through all those changes, narrowed his eyes. Then he asked his guide a question.

'Is that his full strength?'

-Yes. He's called forth his contracted demon. Marphos, a middle-ranking demon. It governs refraction. From the look of it, he's with the Force Field School—

'You don't have to tell me any more.'

-What?

Najin spun his sword through a full circle.

'Otherwise, this won't be much of a training exercise, will it? If things look truly dangerous, let me know then. Until that happens, I intend to test something.'

-What?

'How far I can go.'

How far this body could move.

Since acquiring his stars and slaying a dragon to obtain its dragonblood, Najin had yet to exert his full strength. He had not pushed this body to its limits.

So he needed to know.

Before leaving for the Outer Lands, he had to discover just how far this body could go. At his answer, Merlin blinked, then burst out laughing.

-Suit yourself.

Invisible shock waves surged toward him. The transparent waves could not be seen with the naked eye. But Najin gauged their positions from the faint distortions and the flow of air.

Then he planted his foot.

Faced with the oncoming shock waves, Najin chose to break through head-on. His sword aura tore one force field apart. Amid the burst of light, he surged forward.

3.

Perched atop the fortress, Yuel looked down at the ground below. Reflected in her red eyes was Najin, clashing with Zarkan.

Fragments flew as sword and shock waves collided.

Pleasant clangs rang out, and blood sprayed. Dust rose, only to be pushed away by force fields and cleaved by sword aura as the battle continued. Yuel took in every movement.

"Heh..."

Laughter leaked between her tightly pressed lips.

Her eyes gleamed red with ecstasy. Yuel loved blood and killing, but she loved combat every bit as much.

And what she loved most of all was winning by a hair's breadth after a close battle in which both sides bled. The crossroads between life and death. When she cut through the body of the one driving her toward death—that precise moment when her own existence tipped from death toward life.

Only then did Yuel feel alive.

The fiercer the battle, the closer she came to death, the more intense the life she claimed at its end. That intensity alone was Yuel's joy, her reason for living.

And that was why she found herself intrigued by the boy shining so intensely down below. When one killed countless people, countless living beings, there were times when one sensed a distinctive vitality. How seriously did they take life? How fiercely did they cling to it? How dearly did they cherish their own lives?

That thing some called the soul.

Yuel called it vitality.

Both left the body at the moment of death, after all.

In the face of death, most people willingly bent. To survive, they would abandon even their original form. To them, no value mattered more than life.

But a tiny handful of knights were different.

The vitality of a noble knight facing death might grow faint, but it never bent. It burned red to the very end. To them, life held no greater value than conviction.

For Constellations, it was their feats.

For demons, their concepts.

For witches and dragons, their Mysteries.

Every so often, there were those who valued something more than their own lives. Their vitality shone with peerless beauty. Recalling the countless souls, the vitality she had witnessed, Yuel looked at Najin again.

She had never seen it before.

Never seen this kind of light.

Its mystery intrigued her. That intrigue made her want to understand it. She wanted both to kill the boy right now and extinguish that light, and to wait until it had grown large enough. Murderous impulses surged dozens of times each second, making the corners of Yuel's mouth twitch. Laughter slipped between her lips.

May he soon reach the rank of Sword Master.

May he soon challenge her to a duel.

May he stand as her equal and give her a close fight.

May he die by her hand at its end.

Or kill her instead.

Contradictory emotions collided within her. Even the torment and stimulation born of that collision brought Yuel pleasure. Life needed stimulation. A life without it was worse than death.

Yuel focused all her attention on Najin.

If, by any chance, the dark mage was about to kill him, she would intervene. She had no intention of letting anyone steal the prey she had been saving.

"..."

Fingering her sword hilt, Yuel narrowed her eyes. It seemed a situation requiring her intervention might be approaching. Had he said he had only fought a demon once? He was certainly having trouble with the demon's power.

What a shame. She had wanted to watch a little longer.

With that thought, Yuel decided to intervene. Just as she was about to raise her sword—

"... Huh?"

Yuel's eyes widened.

She tilted her head.

A movement Najin made in a single instant had overturned the course of the battle. Though he had been losing ground, he suddenly sliced off one of the dark mage's arms and slid past.

-That's one.

A smile spread across Najin's face as he murmured those words.

Replaying that entire sequence of movements in her mind, Yuel could not help bursting into laughter.

How could she not?

That movement had exceeded even a Sword Master's expectations.