WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu

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I PULLED OUT THE EXCALIBUR

Chapter 112 - The Outland Beyond the World (6)

The Flickering Witch, Ermina.

Little was known about the witch from the mythic era who had lived for at least a thousand years. It was known she had devoted herself to the Demon King's army. Her life's purpose was to incinerate humanity.

And, that she was a 7th circle mage.

Generally, a 7th circle mage was considered infinitely close to transcendence but had not achieved it. The gap between those who had transcended and those who had not was significant and could not be ignored.

However, no one,

not even those who had transcended,

referred to Ermina, the Flickering Witch, as a mere mortal who hadn't transcended. The constellations that fell into her hands testified to her strength.

-I've already experienced transcendence as a mage.

-I might have shattered all the circles, but that doesn’t mean I've forgotten how to handle magic and knowledge.

Whatever method she used to restore her circles was unknown, Merlin sighed deeply.

-What you see before you is a transcendent.

Merlin asserted.

8th circle, unable to wield the transcended magic, but undoubtedly a transcendent, no different from a Sword Master.

-And, a transcended witch is annoyingly troublesome. Remember? Witches are a race of cheaters.

She pointed to the sky.

There were seven circles in the sky, and the flames they created as they rotated dyed the sky red.

-Experience it now.

-After all, it's the battlefield you must stand on someday.

The witch gestured. Her pale fingers slashed through the air. While ordinary human gestures merely cut through the air in front of them, those of a transcendent could slice through the landscape.

7th circle spell, Fire Demon.

The witch merely gestured lightly as if swatting away annoying insects, but the flames that rippled from her fingertips seemed slightly different.

Flames surged. Flames undulated.

The crimson flames swept across the battlefield. Even a 5th circle spell was called a siege spell, but what should one call the spells above that? Najin could finally satisfy his curiosity at this moment.

“Crazy.”

A wave of fire tens of meters high was rolling toward him. Fortunately, the flames did not target the retreating soldiers, but unfortunately, they were aimed precisely at Najin.

Boom!

Najin kicked off the ground and ran.

The wave of flames chased after Najin as if it were alive. The ground burned. Rocks melted. Where the flames passed, not even soot remained. They either burned to ash or melted away without a trace.

To be caught was to die. To touch it meant even body reinforcement would melt away. Najin was certain of this.

Thus, Najin kicked off a wall and sprinted with all his might. Fire Demon was a spell meant to sweep over a wide area, and if he sprinted with all his power, he could escape its range.

-That's just a 'laid' spell.

But of course.

-It’s coming. Get ready.

The witch couldn’t possibly be unaware of this fact.

Najin clenched his sword tightly as he ran. He felt it not with his sight but with his senses—the swirling mana above his head.

5th circle spell, Scorching Ray.

4th circle spell, Fireball.

It wasn’t just one spell. Two spells were cast simultaneously. Seven scorching rays and seven fireballs were fired at Najin. As he kicked off the wall and ran, he swung his sword without even looking.

As Najin reached the pinnacle of the Sword Seeker's realm, his senses sharpened further, and he could sense where the swirling mana would head, even without using his eyes.

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeng!

The scorching ray trying to pierce Najin's skull was blocked by his sword. The ray split into two, passing by either side of Najin. Seeing the melted cliffs, Najin clicked his tongue.

“Just a scratch, and it’s a goner.”

And there were seven of those scorching rays.

He had only managed to deflect one so far. Feeling the clinging scorching rays, Najin clicked his tongue again. However, it wasn’t just the heat rays he needed to block.

Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!

As Najin kicked off the ground, a fireball impacted where he had just been standing. The 3-meter-diameter fireball created a crater at its impact site, and the explosion sent rocks flying in all directions.

And the fireball didn’t stop at one.

Fireballs targeted where Najin stood, where he could step, where he could flee to, all at the same time. Any hesitation or vulnerability would result in the chasing scorching rays piercing his body.

And if he were to leap far in his escape? If he were to kick off a cliff and step on the ground? Then he would simply be swallowed up by the 7th circle spell Fire Demon waiting below.

Is this how mages fight? Laying out a net all around, reducing the space to step, driving into a corner. Truly, it's exasperating.

‘Eventually, it comes down to a choice.’

Najin gritted his teeth. No space to step? No place to flee? Then, just make one.

Bang.

Najin kicked off the ground and charged forward. Without thinking of dodging, he thrust his body into the path of the fireball.

Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!

With a loud noise, the fireball impacted Najin.

Dust and dirt rose with the flames, but soon, cutting through the dust, Najin emerged. He had swung his sword at the moment of impact, minimizing the damage and escaping.

He was not unscathed, of course. His body bore soot, and the palm holding his sword had melted and stuck to the hilt. He had simply made a choice.

To minimize damage and find a way to survive.

Brushing aside the flames, Najin gasped for breath, his eyes wide open. Blood rushed through his veins. His body accelerated beyond its limits. Sliding down the cliff, he swung his sword.

His sword, wrapped in constellations, flashed brilliantly.

Drawing a white trajectory, it sliced through the fireball and split the scorching ray. Kicking off the wall and charging forward, Najin countered each of the witch's spells one by one. At a glance, it seemed like he was holding his own against the witch...

Najin sensed it as he swung his sword.

Somehow, the witch’s gaze had started to follow ‘him’. She no longer saw him as just an annoying insect, but as a being to be pierced through and killed.

Thud.

The witch’s hands, which had been dealing with Najin and a troop of chains, came to a halt. A moment of silence. It lasted only a second in time. When time moved again, it was when the witch's hands crossed.

Her left and right hands collided.

Snap, went the clap.

The sound that broke the silence was the moment that rang in Najin’s ears. The swirling Fire Demon, the chasing spells, all of it scattered in that instant. But that did not mean they were gone.

Just more efficiently utilized.

The dispersed flames were split, divided, and disassembled, then reassembled. All of this happened in less than a second. If a mage had been there to witness this scene, they would have doubted their own eyes.

A spell already cast. Now, that witch was disassembling and reconstructing it into a completely new spell.

Magically impossible, defying rules, and mocking common sense. This was an impossible feat even for the Archmage of the Empire, Cipria Gachevskaya. Yet, a being called a witch was effortlessly performing it.

Because they are a race beloved by magic.

Because they have been granted the right to break the laws by the world itself.

A spell reconstructed in less than a second. A 7th circle spell split into seven branches, then those split branches into seven more, and those seven into yet another seven...

Hundreds, thousands of flame arrows.

At that moment, faced with a vista filled with arrows wrought from fire, Najin couldn't help but chuckle. What it meant to receive the witch's attention, to be recognized as an enemy by her, Najin fully realized.

Immediately.

Thousands of arrows were fired at Najin.

There was no place to dodge. Surrounded on all sides by arrows, there was no escape. If that was the case, there was only one option left for Najin.

Najin’s eyes widened.

Veins bulged in his eyes as his vision expanded.

Holding his sword, Najin swung it repeatedly. There was no way to dodge, no means to block, so he struck as many as he could.

That was the method Najin chose.

With each swing of his sword, about a dozen arrows were split. Each individual arrow, fragmented again and again from the spell, was not very powerful. The problem was their number. He might have sliced through a dozen arrows with one swing.

Papapapapak!

Three missed arrows struck Najin’s body. His skin burned. The searing pain shook his brain, yet Najin clenched his teeth and continued to swing his sword. He kept cutting down the arrows, but those he couldn't cut through pierced his body.

There were over a thousand arrows. It wasn’t just about slicing through the arrows; it felt like he was swinging his sword in front of a massive wave.

In front of a wave, a mere human is powerless. Powerless, but not willing to be swept away by the wave. Swinging his sword, Najin constantly thought, adjusted the trajectory of his sword, and sought quicker and more concise movements.

Screech, and thunk.

Countless arrows were cut down, and countless arrows embedded in Najin’s body. Protecting only his vitals, Najin swung his sword again and again. As if determined to cut through the wave itself, Najin did not retreat.

'Faster, more concise.'

How much time had passed? A second? Ten seconds? It was indeterminable. All Najin did was focus on swinging his sword. He thought he had minimized his movements to their limit, but there was still room to pare them down further.

Everything that could be reduced, was reduced.

Thus, he swung his sword once more.

Each time he swung his sword, the scattered constellations lingered like afterimages, and around Najin, it seemed as if stars surrounded him.

And then, screech.

Najin swung his sword broadly. The final wave split apart, and Najin’s vision cleared. He gasped for breath, the breath he had been holding back. He had withstood a thousand flame arrows.

"Huff, huff..."

Of course, he was not unscathed.

Dozens of arrows were lodged in his body. In his arms, legs, shoulders, collarbones, abdomen, ribs... He had avoided the vitals, but he looked no different from a porcupine.

Skin melted. Flesh full of soot.

Yet his eyes remained clear. Najin looked up at the sky. For the first time since the battle began, a change came over the witch’s expression. With a frown, she watched Najin.

“You.”

For the first time, the witch spoke.

“What exactly are you?”

Ermina glared at Najin.

Displeasure, contempt, and irritation swirled in her red eyes. Receiving her gaze, Najin smirked.

"You're finally showing some interest."

A bug to be swept away. That was how the witch had regarded him, but now, she was addressing him directly. At this, Najin chuckled.

“You’re crazy. It’s a world full of crazy people, but you’re in a league of your own. Strange. I’m sure I’ve never seen a human like you before...”

Ermina’s frown deepened.

"It feels familiar. What are you? Do you know me?"

-I know you, crazy woman.

Najin didn’t respond, but Merlin did. Standing by Najin’s side, Merlin curled her lips up and chuckled.

-I crushed your circles into fine dust just the other day, how did you crawl back up? As always, living off your talent.

Merlin raised her finger.

Pointing from Ermina’s shoulder to her calf, highlighting scars connected by past injuries, she muttered.

-I should have pierced your heart back then.

Her finger indicated the spot.

Najin stomped the ground powerfully as he swung his sword. Naturally, the sword’s reach wouldn’t touch the witch floating in the sky.

But Najin had seen it. The swords of Sword Masters that could cut distant targets without a sword aura.

He had seen Karan’s sword, Yuel’s sword, and Gerd’s sword. Picturing their movements in his mind, Najin swung his sword. Normally, it was not something that could be imitated by mimicry, movements that could not be followed.

But now.

Immersed in his sword, having swung it again and again until his senses were razor-sharp, Najin could mimic those movements, albeit slightly.

Sssk!

From Ermina’s shoulder to her calf, a thin line traced the thousand-year-old scars Merlin had inflicted. Of course, the force was minimal, no more than a slight graze from the tip of the sword, and even that was blocked by the flames swirling around the witch.

Compared to a Sword Master, it was a trivial strike.

Yet, unmistakably,

Najin's sword had reached the witch.

“......”

Ermina touched her shoulder where the scar was.

A scar engraved by a monstrous mage a millennium ago. Looking at the swordsman who had followed the path of the scar with his swing, Ermina opened her mouth.

“Ahaha.”

A smile formed at her lips.

The witch burst into laughter. It was a mad cackle. Ermina stroked her face as she laughed crazily.

“You.”

Then, thunk.

Suddenly, the laughter stopped.

“You won’t die a pretty death.”

The scar on her body.

It was Ermina’s critical weakness, and no human who had touched it had survived. Ermina snapped her fingers.

Behind her, the eighth circle ascended.

The eighth circle.

A symbol akin to that of an archmage.

The eighth circle that rose behind Ermina was charred, cracked, and some parts were completely split. Essentially, it was a defective circle that could no longer function as one.

A thousand years ago, it had been shattered by Merlin.

Despite the passage of a millennium, Ermina had not been able to restore the eighth circle. Merlin had twisted Ermina's essence and trampled her mystique to ruins. Therefore, Ermina could never be complete. She had to retain her imperfection.

She could not reach ascension.

She would never touch transcendence again.

Yet, she was an archmage who had already experienced transcendence, and despite losing everything, she had started from scratch and approached transcendence once more. Thus, she knew how to mimic transcendence.

Stars twinkled in the sky.

It was Ermina’s star.

Originally, of the five stars she possessed, four had been shattered by Merlin. Only one star remained. That one star illuminated Ermina’s eighth circle. This was the solution Ermina had found.

The shattered parts, the cracked sections, were replaced by starlight. Thus, her lost eighth circle functionally returned, albeit temporarily.

“I don’t know who you are or what you do.”

Ermina’s red eyes swirled.

“I’ll burn your soul and all, you insolent brat.”

8th circle spell, Fluctuation.

The sky churned. A massive torrent of mana swirled around her. Even the starlight seemed to burn in the witch’s flames targeting Najin.

And then, Najin,

“15 minutes.”

Curled the corners of his mouth upwards.

At the same time, the scenery split in half as someone intervened in the battlefield.

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