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Chapter 119: Korvan

Lucavion moved swiftly through the heart of the bandit camp, his footsteps barely making a sound as he closed the distance. The chaotic din of the battlefield faded into the background, his focus entirely on the target ahead. And then, as he rounded the final corner, he saw him.

Korvan stood in the center of the camp, his broad frame imposing and still amidst the chaos. He wasn't hiding, nor was he preparing to flee. Instead, he stood tall, waiting. His dark eyes locked onto Lucavion the moment he entered the clearing, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"So," Korvan said, his voice low but carrying easily across the space between them, "this is the bastard who's been cutting down my men." He crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders bulging under his tattered cloak, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. "I've been hearing a lot about you, stranger. Loren, Lothar, and another one. Impressive."

Lucavion slowed his steps, his grip on his estoc tightening as he met Korvan's gaze. The air between them was tense, filled with a quiet intensity that neither seemed willing to break. The starlight energy around Lucavion's blade flickered, and Korvan's eyes briefly flicked to it before returning to his face.

"I've been waiting for you," Korvan continued, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. "Did you really think you'd walk in here, kill a few of my men, and everything would go according to plan?" His grin widened, dark and predatory. "You've made a grave mistake coming here, boy."

Lucavion's eyes narrowed. "You talk too much," he said coldly, this time without any playfulness.

He could feel the raw power radiating off Korvan, the unmistakable presence of a peak 3-star Awakened. This would not be an easy fight, but Lucavion had never intended for it to be.

Korvan chuckled, unfolding his arms as he took a step forward. His hand rested on the hilt of a massive, blackened axe strapped to his back, the weapon gleaming ominously in the dim light of the camp. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts alone won't save you."

"Why do I hear that a lot? It seems your men like to use the words that you speak of."

Korvan's grin twisted into a snarl, his fists clenching so tightly that the veins in his arms bulged. "Useless!" he spat, his voice seething with contempt. His eyes locked onto Lucavion's with a fiery intensity. "You really think you'll get a normal death? No, boy, I'll make it as painful as possible. You'll beg for it to end."

Lucavion remained unfazed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he lifted his estoc, the starlight energy coiling around the blade like a serpent. His smirk returned, but it held no amusement this time, only cold resolve. "Do your worst."

Korvan's lips curled into a dark smile as he reached behind him, drawing his weapon. It wasn't the axe Lucavion had initially thought—it was a spear, its shaft blackened as if charred by fire. The tip glowed faintly, pulsing with heat as if the flames within were barely contained.

"I will," Korvan growled, his voice now a low, dangerous rumble. With a flick of his wrist, flames erupted from the tip of the spear, dancing along the length of the weapon. The heat radiated off him in waves, the fire swirling around him like a living thing, eager to consume everything in its path.

Lucavion stood his ground, watching as Korvan's fire mana surged through the air. The intense heat threatened to smother the cool glow of his starlight, but Lucavion held steady, his eyes never leaving Korvan.

The showdown between the two had started.

*******

I tightened my grip on the estoc, feeling the familiar hum of starlight mana coil around the blade. The cool, soothing energy felt at odds with the heat radiating from Korvan's spear, but I held steady. I couldn't afford to be intimidated by his strength, even though I knew—on all fronts—he outclassed me.

'He's stronger… faster… and that spear isn't just for show,' I thought, watching the flames ripple along the blackened shaft. He's a peak 3-star, no doubt about it. His mana felt like a suffocating wave, ready to crash down.

My eyes tracked every movement he made, every slight shift of his weight. Korvan's smirk hadn't faded, a predator sizing up prey he believed already defeated. He stepped forward, deliberately slow, as if testing how long I could keep calm under pressure. The air between us simmered with heat, the fire mana dancing in the air.

'He's toying with me.'

The moment the thought crossed my mind, he lunged. A blur of motion, faster than I'd anticipated. I barely had time to react, raising my estoc just in time to parry the searing tip of his spear.

–CLANK!

The force behind his strike was monstrous; my arms rattled from the impact, my feet sliding back despite my attempt to hold firm.

'Damn, he's strong.'

Korvan's spear twisted, sweeping toward my side in a brutal arc. I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding being gutted by the flaming tip. The heat singed my cloak, but I couldn't focus on that—there was no time.

'Stay calm. Find an opening.'

He was already coming at me again, his movements fluid and relentless. I ducked beneath another swipe, feeling the rush of heat as it passed inches from my head. A quick glance upward and I saw his eyes—focused, calculating. He wasn't just a brute with strength; he had precision too.

CLANK!

Another strike and my estoc barely held. I could feel my arms trembling from the force of the blow.

'He's faster than me, too,' I thought, gritting my teeth as I parried another brutal swing.

Korvan's grin widened as if he sensed the gap between us. His spear came down in a vicious overhead strike, aimed to split me in half. I spun away, the ground cracking where the spearhead landed. The force of the impact sent dust and debris into the air.

I spun away from Korvan's overhead strike, dust swirling in the air as his spear smashed into the ground. My breath came in short bursts, sweat dripping down my face from the intense heat of his mana. But then I saw it—a fleeting moment, barely noticeable. His guard dropped ever so slightly as he pulled his spear back. It was only for a split second, but it was enough.

'Now.'

Without hesitation, I lunged forward, channeling starlight mana into my blade. The familiar surge of energy flowed through me, coiling like a serpent around my estoc. I aimed for his exposed side, my blade a blur of silver light as it cut through the air.

But just as my strike was about to land, flames roared to life—sudden and blinding.

–BOOM!

A wall of fire erupted between us, the heat hitting me like a tidal wave. I could barely see through the blaze, but I knew—this was no mistake.

'It's a trap—!'

Before I could fully retreat, a blast of fire surged toward me, and I threw myself backward with every ounce of speed I could muster. My instincts screamed at me to move, and I obeyed without question. The fire barely missed, the heat scorching my skin as I leaped away. I rolled across the dirt, my lungs burning from the effort.

But Korvan was faster. He didn't let me catch my breath. The moment I retreated, he was on me—closing the distance with frightening speed, his spear now fully extended. The range of his weapon was deadly, and I was too far to parry in time.

'Too fast!'

Korvan stormed through with his spear, the blackened tip cutting through the air like a deadly comet. I twisted my body, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike, but his spear grazed my shoulder, searing through the fabric of my cloak and biting into my flesh.

"Gah!" I grunted, the pain sharp and immediate. But I couldn't stop—he was relentless.

Korvan followed up, spinning the spear in a wide arc, the flames licking dangerously close to my face. I barely had time to react, throwing up my estoc to block the strike.

CLANK!

The impact rattled through my bones, forcing me back again. My feet slid across the dirt as I struggled to maintain my footing, my shoulder throbbing from the fresh wound.

Korvan's grin widened as he advanced, the heat from his fire mana suffocating. "Caught you off guard, didn't I?" he taunted, his spear crackling with flames. "You're quick, but not quick enough."

Feeling the pain of burning on my right shoulder, I could not help but admire the way Korvan fought.

The searing pain in my shoulder was sharp, but it was nothing compared to what I'd endured before. I'd felt worse—much worse—thanks to my unique condition. Pain was something I had grown used to, something I had learned to bury beneath my focus.

"You are just as crafty as I could expect from a bandit," I said, my voice calm, steady. My eyes locked on Korvan, watching his every move.

Korvan snorted, his lips curling into a sneer. "Crafty, huh? You're acting tough, boy, but I see the pain in your eyes. Don't think you can fool me."

I didn't answer. The burn in my shoulder pulsed, but I willed it away, focusing instead on the cool energy coursing through me. I could feel the starlight mana gathering in my estoc, wrapping itself around the blade like a living thing, flickering with cold, radiant power. It flowed not just into the blade but through my entire body, strengthening my limbs, sharpening my senses.

Korvan's sneer deepened, clearly thinking I was putting on a show, pretending not to feel the agony that burned across my skin. But I wasn't pretending. The pain was real, but it wasn't enough to stop me.

I raised my estoc, the blade glowing with the pale, cold light of starlight mana. My breath steadied as I entered the stance, feet planted firmly on the ground, my gaze never wavering from his.

'Focus. Channel the mana.'

The energy flowed in sync with my breath, each inhale pulling in more power, each exhale sharpening my focus. The world around me narrowed—there was only Korvan and the starlight running through my veins.

I gestured toward him with the blade, a silent invitation. "Come at me."

Chapter 120: Korvan (2)

"Come at me."

Korvan's sneer faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing. He saw the shift in my stance, the way I held my ground, no longer retreating. His eyes flicked to my glowing blade, recognition dawning in his expression.

"Playing the tough guy, are we?" he growled, his grip tightening on the spear. "Let's see how long that lasts."

And then he charged, flames erupting from his spear as he closed the distance between us in a heartbeat. His movements were fast, blindingly so, the tip of the spear a blur as it cut through the air toward me.

But I was ready.

With a sharp breath, I stepped forward to meet him, my estoc raised. The starlight mana pulsed through my body, giving me the speed and strength I needed to parry his strike.

CLANG!

The sound of our weapons clashing echoed through the clearing, sparks flying as fire met starlight. Korvan's eyes widened slightly as I held my ground, refusing to be pushed back this time.

I twisted my blade, redirecting the force of his strike to the side. For a brief moment, there was an opening—small, but there.

I seized it, lunging forward with a quick, precise thrust aimed at his side.

But Korvan wasn't done yet. He spun his spear with a flick of his wrist, flames roaring to life around him. A wall of fire rose up between us, forcing me to retreat before I could land my blow. The heat was suffocating, but I managed to dodge the blast of fire just in time.

Korvan came at me with a ferocity that felt like a hurricane of flame and steel. His spear, wreathed in fire, cut through the air in rapid, vicious arcs, each strike coming faster and heavier than the last. I parried, deflecting the blows as best as I could, but the force behind his attacks was monstrous.

CLANG! CLANG!

Each strike rattled through my bones, my estoc barely managing to keep up with his relentless assault. My muscles burned, but I matched his pace, refusing to fall back again. I twisted my body, deflecting another slash and countering with a thrust aimed at his midsection.

Korvan batted my blade aside, the flames on his spear flaring as he swung at my shoulder. I ducked just in time, the heat from the weapon grazing my skin. A bead of sweat rolled down my temple, but I pressed forward, turning my dodge into a strike. My estoc lashed out, aiming for his exposed leg.

SWOOSH!

But Korvan was faster. His spear blocked my attack, and before I could fully withdraw, his next blow came crashing down.

"Argh!" I hissed, feeling the sharp bite of his spear's edge as it cut across my arm. Blood trickled down, warm and wet, against my skin, but I didn't retreat. The pain was real, but there was something else now—something unexpected.

Thrill.

A spark flickered inside me, something raw and primal. It started small, a faint pulse deep in my chest, but with each clash, each cut, it grew. The sharp sting of the wound on my arm only fueled it.

CLANG!

I blocked another strike, feeling the pressure of Korvan's strength pushing against me. The thrill bubbled up, a strange exhilaration that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was a test, a challenge, a battle where my life hung in the balance.

And something inside me welcomed it.

'That's right…..This feeling…'

I gritted my teeth as another swing of Korvan's spear sliced across my shoulder, tearing through my cloak and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My body screamed in pain, but my mind was clear, sharper than ever.

'Is this what I've been missing?' I thought as I dodged another of Korvan's strikes, the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

The thrill was growing stronger, a feeling of excitement that coursed through me with every move I made, every blow I deflected.

For the first time in a long while, I felt alive.

I spun around Korvan's next attack, the starlight mana around my estoc flaring brighter as I drove it forward, aiming for his chest. Korvan deflected the strike with ease, but I didn't stop. My movements flowed, one after the other, pushing him back even as my body screamed in protest from the cuts and bruises forming across my arms and torso.

His spear came crashing down, and I met it head-on, feeling the force of his blow rattle my weapon. My feet skidded across the dirt, but I stood firm, a grin slowly creeping onto my face despite the pain coursing through me.

"You're smiling, boy?" Korvan growled, his eyes narrowing as he swung his spear again. "You're starting to enjoy this?"

I didn't answer. I didn't need to.

I could feel the heat of the battle in every fiber of my being now. The thrill of putting my life on the line, of fighting an opponent stronger than me, faster than me—it was intoxicating. Each cut, each close call, only fueled the fire inside me. The more dangerous the fight became, the more alive I felt.

CLANG!

I blocked another strike, the starlight mana in my blade pulsing stronger, brighter. The thrill was overwhelming now, a raw, electric excitement that surged through me with every breath.

"Come on, Korvan," I muttered under my breath, feeling the adrenaline spike again. "Let's see how far we can take this."

Korvan's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, there was something other than smugness in his gaze—wariness. He could sense the change in me. He wasn't just fighting a skilled swordsman anymore—he was fighting someone who was embracing the chaos, the danger, the risk.

I dashed forward, my estoc glowing with starlight as I launched into a flurry of attacks, faster and more aggressive than before. Each strike carried the full weight of my energy, my focus laser-sharp.

CLANK! SWOOSH!

Our weapons clashed, the air between us crackling with mana and heat. I didn't care about the pain anymore. I didn't care about the blood trickling down my arms or the burn of his flames. All that mattered was the fight, the thrill of it, the challenge of pushing myself to the limit.

For the first time, Korvan looked rattled.

"You're insane!" he shouted, blocking another of my strikes. His spear flared with fire, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. The thrill had taken hold of me now, and I wasn't about to let go.

With a grin, I lunged forward, the starlight mana in my estoc blazing brighter than ever. This was it—the moment I'd been waiting for.

Life or death.

Victory or defeat.

And I welcomed it.

Kill or get killed.

That is the essence of the battle.

Either you cut down your enemy, or you get cut down.

Why does one learn the way of a sword?

To display their lives?

To display their nobility?

For what reason did we create the term 'weapon'?

Isn't the answer clear?

'To kill the enemy.'

That is what a weapon is for.

The world around me blurred as I gave in to the feeling surging inside me. My body moved on its own, my instincts taking over. My estoc flashed with starlight mana, each strike more vicious than the last. I heard the clash of metal, the searing hiss of flames, the sharp crackle of mana, but it was all distant, like the sounds were coming from another world.

All that existed was the blood.

It splattered across my vision, red against the glow of starlight, mixing with the orange and yellow of Korvan's flames. Every slash, every parry, every movement was instinctual now, primal. My blade sang with each swing, my muscles burning but alive with a sensation beyond pain, beyond exhaustion.

I could feel it coursing through me—a need, a hunger to end this fight with my enemy cut down at my feet.

I could hear Korvan's grunt with every deflected strike, his frustration building as I pressed on. His fire mana surged again, flaring hot and dangerous, but I didn't care. The heat, the blood, the pain—it all fed the growing thrill inside me, blurring the lines between who I was and the blade I wielded.

Kill or get killed.

That was the essence of battle. I could see it so clearly now. The reason a weapon exists—to kill the enemy, to cut them down, to survive at their expense. Every clash of my estoc against his spear, every spark of mana and flame, every strike that found flesh—all of it blurred into a dance of death.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, something changed. The blur shattered.

I felt a sharp, burning force crash into my body, my chest exploding with pain. Korvan's fire-embedded spear struck true, slamming into me with enough force to send me flying back.

"Gah!" The air was knocked from my lungs, the sharp impact driving me into the ground. I hit the dirt hard, rolling several times before coming to a stop. The world around me spun, the flames and starlight flickering wildly in my vision.

My head pounded, my body screaming in pain as I tried to force myself upright. Everything felt sluggish, the adrenaline that had fueled me moments before now ebbing away, leaving only raw agony in its wake.

Korvan stood over me, his spear still glowing with embers, his eyes dark with fury. "You fought well, but this is where it ends, boy."

Chapter 121: Korvan (3)

'What… happened?'

My thoughts felt sluggish, muddled by the pounding in my skull and the burning pain that rippled through every inch of my body. I tried to piece together what had just happened, but everything felt so distant, so disconnected.

I blinked, trying to clear the haze from my vision, but all I saw was red. Blood smeared across my eyes, dripping down my face. My chest throbbed, every breath shallow and ragged. Flames crackled in the distance, their heat pressing in on me, but none of it made sense. Nothing did.

I looked down at myself—burns and cuts marred my skin, the fabric of my cloak and armor torn to shreds. Blood soaked through my clothes, staining everything dark. My body trembled, my muscles weak and screaming in protest, and then I noticed it—my hand.

The hand that once gripped my estoc with confidence and purpose was now in tatters, torn and bleeding. My fingers were raw, shaking uncontrollably. Blood dripped from my fingertips, splattering onto the dirt beneath me.

'How...?'

I glanced at my estoc, still clutched weakly in my broken grip. The blade, once sharp and filled with starlight mana, was now riddled with cracks—dozens of them, spider-webbing across the surface of the steel. The glow of starlight was dim, flickering weakly, as if the weapon itself was on the verge of breaking apart.

'No… not now.'

My vision swam again, the crimson haze intensifying as my head pounded with each heartbeat. I tried to focus, to make sense of the situation, but everything felt wrong. The ground beneath me felt unsteady, and the world around me blurred in and out of focus.

Korvan's voice echoed in the back of my mind, but I couldn't concentrate on the words. All I could see were the flames. All I could feel was the ache in my chest, the numbness in my hand, the cracks in my blade.

'How did this happen?'

I tried to force my body to move, but every muscle screamed in protest. My head was spinning, my thoughts scattered. The red and black of my vision merged, and I couldn't tell if the blood was my own or Korvan's.

Everything felt so far away. So distant.

As everything around me began to drift into a distant blur, I felt it—cold.

It crept in, slow at first, a faint chill brushing against my skin, but then it deepened, cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Korvan's spear was coming at me, burning with the same fire that had scorched my flesh moments before. Yet now, the world seemed to slow, the flames dancing in slow motion, crackling like some living creature, eager to consume me.

And amidst the heat, there it was again—the coldness. The icy grip of death, like an old, familiar presence wrapping around my body, tightening its hold. I had felt it before, time and time again, absorbing that same cold energy from my surroundings, letting it seep into me as I brushed up against the edges of mortality.

Now, I was facing death again. The chill sank into my bones, making everything feel heavy, almost paralyzing. This is it, I thought, the cold threatening to swallow me whole. It wasn't just the feeling of death approaching—it was something else, something inside me, stirring. That same dark thrill that had bubbled up before, the excitement of putting my life on the line, of embracing the bloodlust.

But now it was worse, stronger. It was clawing its way back to the surface, ready to take over, just like it had before.

'No… Not again.'

The thought barely registered as I struggled to fight it off, to push back against the tide of that overwhelming sensation. My hands trembled, my vision darkened, and for a brief moment, I felt as though I would lose myself completely to it. The beast within me roared, ready to break free, to consume everything in its path.

But then, through the suffocating cold, a voice cut through the storm inside my head, clear and sharp.

"Your weapon is a graceful one. An estoc is a blade of precision, of finesse. It's meant for thrusting, for finding the gaps in armor, for striking with elegance. But the way you fight… it's anything but graceful. You wield that blade like a beast, all raw power and bloodlust. There's no balance, no harmony between you and your weapon.

It's as if the sword itself is screaming against the way you use it."

The voice was calm and steady, but its words pierced through me with a brutal clarity. My heart pounded in my chest as I listened, my mind grasping for its meaning.

"There's more to wielding a blade than just knowing how to kill. A true swordsman understands the balance between power and grace, between the blade and the hand that guides it. You've got the skill, boy, but you lack the understanding. You're letting the beast inside you control the sword rather than mastering the beast and letting the sword become an extension of yourself."

Those were the words that both Harlan and Master had spoken to me.

At that time, it was hard for me to discern the beast that they were talking about.

But now, I could feel it.

The way I had fought just now—it wasn't about skill or precision. I had been reckless, consumed by the thrill of death, by the need to survive at any cost.

My estoc—my weapon—was a tool of precision, but I had treated it like a blunt instrument like a beast slashing wildly at prey.

I looked at my estoc again, cracks webbing across its surface, the blade trembling in my broken grip. I hadn't just damaged my body—I had damaged my weapon, the very thing I had relied on. It wasn't just my injuries that had left me on the edge of defeat—it was my failure to truly understand the balance between myself and the blade.

The beast inside me growled, urging me to keep fighting, to give in to the bloodlust. But the voice—the voice reminded me of something deeper.

The flames swirled toward me, Korvan's spear just inches from my face, burning with the intensity of a predator about to finish its prey. The heat was overwhelming, the air thick with the weight of death. My heart pounded in my chest, and for a moment, I could see it—the end. His words echoed in my ears, cruel and final:

SWIRL!

"Goodbye, boy."

But then, something clicked.

In that split second, just before the flames could consume me, I understood. The words of Harlan, the lessons from my master, everything I had been too blind to see before—it all fell into place. Master the beast within you. I hadn't understood it at the time, but now, as the world seemed to slow around me, I could feel it.

The beast wasn't just the bloodlust, the thrill of fighting with reckless abandon. It was me. My instincts, my desires, my fear of death—all of it was the beast that had driven me. But I had let it control me, rather than mastering it. I had fought like a cornered animal, throwing everything into the battle without thinking, without control.

Now, I had a choice: to let the beast consume me or to find the harmony I had been missing.

My body fell into an eerie serenity. The roar of flames, the pressure of the fight—it all faded away. The world around me disappeared, and in that moment, there was only me and my sword.

I looked down at my estoc. The cracks webbed across its surface, the once sharp, pristine blade now damaged by my recklessness. But as I gripped it, I could feel its weight, its presence in my hand. This weapon had been with me through countless battles. It wasn't just a tool—it was an extension of myself. I had treated it like a blunt instrument, driven by desperation and raw instinct.

But now, as the flames approached, I felt calm.

The bloodlust that had surged inside me was still there, but I no longer let it dictate my actions. My mind was clear. My grip on the estoc tightened, and I felt the weapon settle in my hand, as if it had been waiting for this moment—for me to finally wield it with purpose, with understanding.

And then, in the midst of that serenity, I felt the power within me stir. The vortex inside my body, the second core I had kept locked away for so long, pulsed with energy. It had always been there, waiting to be unleashed, but I had been too focused on survival to use it properly.

But now, I was ready.

I opened the dam within me, releasing the power of the Flame of Equinox. It surged through my body, a perfect balance of life and death. The flame enveloped me, but it was no longer a chaotic force. It was controlled, harmonious, a reflection of the understanding I had gained in this moment. The flames of life and death wrapped around my estoc, strengthening it, mending the cracks.

I could feel the cold fire of death and the warm flame of life merging, surrounding me, becoming one with my blade.

And then, in the stillness, I whispered the words I had come to understand.

「This is how my sword needs to be.」

With a single motion, I moved.

The world, slow and hazy, seemed to bend around me as I stepped forward. Korvan's spear, once inches from my face, now seemed distant, as if it were frozen in time. The flames around it flickered, but they didn't touch me. My estoc, glowing with the combined power of life and death, cut through the air with precision and purpose.

There was no hesitation, no fear, no desperation. Only clarity.

The tip of my blade found its mark, cutting through the very fabric of the space between us. It wasn't just a strike—it was annihilation, a complete severance of the distance, the power, and the fire that separated me from my enemy.

In that moment, the world shattered.

Chapter 122: Korvan (4)

The moment the world shattered, time seemed to snap back into place. My senses heightened in an instant, and Korvan's spear, now right in front of me, burned with deadly intent. But my mind was clear—focused.

I could see the precise point where I needed to strike, the exact moment to change the trajectory of his attack. My body moved with a calm I had never felt before, my estoc glowing with the black flame of the Flame of Equinox. The sword glided through the air, effortless yet deliberate, meeting the spear at the perfect angle.

–CLANK!

The force of the impact reverberated through my blade, but it wasn't like before. I wasn't fighting the spear—I was redirecting it. My sword slid along the length of the spear, altering its course just enough to avoid a fatal blow.

But I wasn't fast enough to completely avoid it.

The tip of Korvan's spear pierced through my abdomen, the sharp pain blooming in my side as it sank deep. I grunted, the force pushing me back a step, but I didn't let the pain overwhelm me. My grip on the estoc tightened, and I looked Korvan in the eyes, seeing the triumph in his gaze.

He expected to see me falter, expected to see his flames devour me.

But something was different.

The flames of his spear, which had burned so fiercely just moments before, flickered. And then, as they met the black flame surrounding me, they cooled. Korvan's eyes widened in shock, his mouth twisting in confusion as the fire around his spear was smothered, as though my flame was devouring his.

I felt it—the power of the Flame of Equinox, the balance of life and death, suppressing the chaotic nature of his fire. The black flame around me pulsed, cold and deadly, absorbing the heat and suffocating Korvan's mana with a chilling finality.

"What…?"

Korvan's voice was low, disbelief laced in every word. He yanked his spear back, but it was too late. His fire had lost its edge, the heat around him fading as my flames consumed it.

I could see the panic in his eyes now, the momentary flash of fear that hadn't been there before. The same man who had mocked me, who had towered over me with strength and fire, now looked uncertain. The predator had become prey.

I could feel the blood dripping from my abdomen, but the pain no longer mattered. I raised my estoc again, the black flame swirling around it with purpose, with control.

"This is the difference," I murmured, more to myself than to him. "Between us."

Korvan's grip tightened on his spear, his face contorting into a snarl. He stepped forward, trying to rally, trying to summon the flames again, but they flickered weakly, unable to match the cold fire that surrounded me.

"You… you think this changes anything?" he spat, his voice shaking slightly. "You're still just a—"

SWOOSH!

Before he could finish, I moved again. This time, there was no hesitation, no desperation. My estoc cut through the air with deadly precision, the black flames surging forward.

Korvan's eyes widened as he barely managed to raise his spear in defense. But it was futile. My blade, enveloped in the power of life and death, sliced cleanly through his guard, the force of the blow sending him staggering back. His armor cracked, and I saw the flash of panic once more in his eyes as he realized his fire could no longer protect him.

The flames were gone, extinguished by the balance I had found.

Korvan staggered back, his armor cracked, but I knew better than to think it was over. Even now, I could see the determination in his eyes, the raw power of a peak 3-star warrior refusing to falter. He wasn't just any bandit; Korvan had reached the pinnacle of his strength, and he wasn't about to let himself fall so easily.

He pulled himself up, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. The flames around him flared to life once again, swirling violently, but they weren't like before. They burned with desperation, flickering as they tried to reclaim their former ferocity.

"I'm not done yet," Korvan spat, his voice trembling with fury. He raised his spear, the tip glowing with a faint but renewed flame. "I'll end you here, boy."

He took his stance, muscles tensing, spear poised to strike. This time, though, something was different. I could sense it—the raw determination behind his attack, the last push of a warrior who had fought countless battles. His spear was raised, the flames crackling weakly but still present, and he charged forward, the ground trembling under his feet.

But I wasn't the same, either.

I could feel the cold flame of the Flame of Equinox coursing through me, steady, balanced. I didn't give in to the bloodlust, the reckless urge to meet his attack head-on like before. This time, I fought like a true swordsman.

As Korvan came at me, something clicked within me, a small, almost imperceptible shift. It wasn't a physical sensation but a feeling, a knowing. The world around me seemed to slow, just for a moment, and I saw it—the path.

His spear, still wreathed in flame, arced through the air toward me, but my eyes followed it with a clarity I hadn't felt before. The faintest shift in his weight, the tension in his grip, the trajectory of the flames—they all guided me. It wasn't just instinct anymore; it was something deeper, something almost natural.

I knew exactly where Korvan was going to strike.

Without thinking, my body moved. I sidestepped just as his spear came crashing down, the flames licking the air where I had just been standing. My estoc, now steady in my hand, glowed with the black flame of my own power, and I saw it again—the path. The perfect moment, the opening in his stance.

With precision, I moved, my sword cutting through the air with effortless grace. It wasn't driven by desperation or brute force; it was guided by clarity, by the understanding that had eluded me before. The blade slipped past his spear, finding the gap in his armor.

CLANG!

Korvan's eyes widened as my estoc pierced through his side, the black flame searing through his defenses. He staggered, blood spilling from the wound, but I could see it in his eyes—he hadn't expected me to move like this.

"You…" Korvan gasped, his grip on the spear faltering. "How…?"

I didn't answer. There was no need for words. I had seen the path, the guidance of the sword, and I had followed it. This wasn't just a fight anymore. It was a dance of death, and I was in control.

Korvan, for all his strength, couldn't understand. He was powerful, no doubt, but he had lost his balance. His desperation, his fury—they had consumed him, just as the beast inside me had threatened to do. But I had found the harmony between the blade and the hand, the power, and the precision.

As he stumbled back, clutching the wound at his side, I could see him making a face of an ugly one.

The air around us grew thick with tension, and then, I saw it—something dangerous. A surge of mana pulsed through Korvan's body, so fierce and wild that it felt unnatural. His breathing quickened, his muscles tensing, and the flickering flames around his spear flared to life again, more ferocious than before.

"You… think this is over?" Korvan's voice was low, guttural. His eyes burned with a mixture of fury and madness. "No… no, boy. You've pushed me too far."

I could feel the shift in the air, the unmistakable weight of something forbidden. He's going to do it, I realized, my senses sharpening as the threat became clear. I had heard of it before—a dangerous, forbidden technique that was only spoken about in whispers.

Korvan raised his spear, the flames around it now darker, more erratic, and I saw him tap into something deep within his core. He was flooding his meridians with mana—far beyond what was safe for any awakened to handle. His veins bulged, and his skin darkened as the power coursed through him, pushing his body past its natural limits.

「Berserk Flame.」

His voice was a growl, a primal command as the flames around him erupted into a roaring inferno. The heat was suffocating and oppressive, and I could feel the raw, uncontrollable mana tearing at the very air between us. His body trembled with the strain of overloading his core, and yet, he smiled—a savage, crazed grin that promised destruction.

I knew what he was doing. Overpushing one's core and meridians with mana was a forbidden act for a reason. It was a reckless gamble—one that gave immense power in exchange for irreversible damage to the body. Most who attempted it never lived to tell the tale. But Korvan had made his choice. He was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant taking me down with him.

The flames around him intensified, turning a deep, violent red, and I could feel the sheer force of it pressing against me. His aura had become wild and unstable, like a storm ready to break loose.

"I'll burn you to ash!" Korvan roared, his voice echoing with the fury of his unleashed power. He charged at me, the ground shaking beneath his feet, the firestorm around him swallowing everything in its path.

But as he came, I didn't move.

Normally, one was supposed to escape in such situations.

The fact that Korvan was attempting to do something reckless as this one alone showed that he was now on the border of a 4-star.

A whole rank difference.

"How sad."

Yet it was just pathetic.

Chapter 123: Korvan (5)

Korvan charged, flames spiraling wildly around him, his body consumed by the reckless power of his Berserk Flame. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the heat searing the air as the inferno closed in. Yet, as I stood there, calm and steady, watching the man before me, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of finality.

Normally, anyone in my position would have tried to escape, to avoid the suicidal charge of someone who had broken through the threshold of a 4-star warrior. The sheer force Korvan was releasing was nothing short of monstrous—he was a man who had pushed himself beyond his limits. But I didn't flinch, didn't waver.

I saw him for what he truly was.

"How sad," I murmured, my voice barely audible beneath the roar of flames. I watched him rush toward me, a storm of rage and destruction, but all I saw was pathetic.

Korvan, a man who had lived his life as an outlaw. He had broken countless laws, slaughtered the innocent, taken what wasn't his, and destroyed lives without a second thought. A man who had reveled in the misery of others, who had taken pride in his brutality. He wasn't just a bandit—he was a blight on the world. Someone who had brought nothing but suffering to those around him.

And yet, at this moment, as his body was consumed by flames of his own making, he was nothing more than a broken creature. A man too desperate to admit defeat. Too far gone to realize he had already lost.

But still… he had served his purpose.

It was through this battle, through his relentless, savage nature, that I had come to understand the meaning behind Harlan's and my master's words. The importance of balance. The mastery of the beast within. Korvan, this man who had killed and destroyed, had unknowingly become my teacher. He had forced me to find the harmony between power and control, between life and death.

He had pushed me to the edge, and because of that, I had grown.

He was nothing but a stepping stone.

I tightened my grip on my estoc, feeling the weight of the blade settle comfortably in my hand. The black flames of the Flame of Equinox swirled around me, cold and controlled, as I faced Korvan's fiery charge. His power was immense, his flames scorching, but they no longer frightened me.

He had chosen a path of destruction, one that could only lead to his own undoing. I, on the other hand, had chosen a path of balance, of mastery.

Korvan's face was twisted with fury, his eyes wide with madness, as he closed in on me. But to me, he was already defeated. His fate was sealed the moment he chose to forsake control, to let his power consume him.

"You don't deserve sympathy," I whispered to myself, my voice steady. "But you've served your purpose."

Korvan's berserk form rushed at me with terrifying speed, his spear aimed right for my right abdomen. The flames around his weapon burned intensely, wild and untamed, but I could see through his movements now. His rage had clouded his judgment, and in his desperation, his attacks had become predictable.

The first strike came fast, but I was faster. My estoc moved with precision, deflecting his spear just as it was about to pierce my side. I twisted my blade, redirecting the force of his attack downward, driving the tip of his spear into the ground.

His face twisted in fury, but before he could pull his weapon free, I felt the heat of his flames surge again. From behind him, several javelins of fire materialized, each one blazing with dangerous intent as they shot toward me.

I didn't flinch. The black flames of the Flame of Equinox swirled around me, absorbing the incoming fire like a black hole devouring light. The javelins fizzled out, their heat no match for the cold balance of my flames.

But Korvan, lost in his berserk state, wasn't finished. With a snarl, he ripped his spear from the ground and swung it in a wide, diagonal arc, flames dancing wildly along the weapon. His eyes were filled with nothing but rage now, his mind fully consumed by the destructive power he had unleashed.

He appeared before me in an instant, his spear raised for another strike. But I could see it all—the way his muscles tensed, the angle of his body, the wild energy that flared around him. In that split second, my mind simulated his next three moves with perfect clarity.

'First strike, aimed high. Second, sweeping low. Third, a stab to my center.'

It was like playing a game of chess, every move laid out before me, and I adjusted my stance accordingly.

The first strike came down, fast and deadly, but I was already in motion. My estoc met his spear with a sharp clang, deflecting the blow with ease. Before he could recover, I shifted my weight, stepping to the side just as his second sweep cut through the air, missing me entirely.

Then came the third strike—a brutal, direct thrust aimed at my center. I twisted my body, my estoc sliding along the length of his spear, guiding it away from its target.

Korvan let out a frustrated roar, his berserk flames flaring wildly, but I was already moving. With a quick surge of mana to my leg, I struck.

–THUD!

My foot connected with his chest, the force of the blow sending him staggering backward. His grip on his spear faltered for just a moment, but that was all the opening I needed.

I took my stance, my right arm pulling back to my side. The Flame of Equinox pulsed through me, cold and deadly, as I settled into the Wing Stance. My body felt weightless, perfectly aligned with my weapon, as if the estoc was an extension of myself.

This would be the final strike.

The black flames around me flared, wrapping around my blade, and at that moment, I could feel everything—the balance between life and death, the harmony between power and precision. Korvan's wild flames were nothing compared to the control I had found.

「Annihilation Sword. Last Breath.」

With a single, fluid motion, I moved.

My estoc cut through the air like a phantom, swift and silent. The black flame surged forward, cold and unstoppable, as my blade found its mark. I saw the shock in Korvan's eyes as my estoc pierced through his chest, the black flames devouring the last remnants of his berserk power.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Korvan stood there, his body trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief. The wild flames around him flickered, then faded entirely, snuffed out by the cold embrace of the Flame of Equinox.

"Kurghk-!"

His gaze slowly lifted, locking onto me. His eyes, filled with confusion and pain, searched for an answer—any answer.

"How…?" he rasped, his voice barely audible, strained. "How… could this happen?"

I stood over him, my estoc still glowing faintly with the black flames, the cold energy of life and death swirling quietly around me. For a moment, I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. The battle was over, and Korvan was living his final moments. His berserk energy, the wild power he had unleashed, had consumed him, and yet it hadn't been enough.

Korvan's body shuddered as he tried to stand, his legs giving out beneath him. Blood poured freely from the hole in his chest, staining his hands and his armor. His eyes, wide and frantic, fixed on me again.

"How…?" he repeated, his voice growing weaker. "Even after… I used the Berserk Flame… Even after I… pushed my core… How can you defeat me? Even a 4-star warrior would struggle…"

His words trailed off, and I could see the disbelief etched into his face. He couldn't comprehend it. In his mind, his power, his rage, his destructive nature should have been enough to crush me, to break me. He had become something beyond human, or so he thought.

I remained silent for a moment longer, watching as the last remnants of his strength slipped away. His breathing was labored, each breath shallower than the last, as his body struggled to keep going. I could see it—the dawning realization in his eyes that his life was slipping away, and there was no power left to save him.

Finally, I spoke, my voice low and calm.

"Power that controls you is nothing but a weakness."

The words hung in the air, soft but firm, as I watched the life drain from Korvan's eyes. His once-imposing figure now lay crumpled before me, the wild flames that had raged around him now nothing more than flickering embers. His strength, his fury, his destructive nature—all of it had failed him in the end.

This was the truth I had come to understand.

The beast inside me—the raw, untamed power that I had felt from the moment I first touched the blade—was real. It was a force that had driven me forward in the darkest moments, when survival seemed impossible. It had pushed me to break through my limits, to fight when I had nothing left. It was the primal instinct that all warriors knew, the deep-seated hunger for battle, for victory.

But that power, as strong as it was, was also a double-edged sword. Left unchecked, it consumed. It turned even the mightiest into nothing more than tools of destruction, mindless forces of chaos. Korvan had given in to that beast, believing that raw power alone would bring him victory. But in the end, it had been his downfall.

What made the difference in this fight—what had allowed me to stand victorious—was the understanding that the beast, while powerful, could not be allowed to control me. I had to master it, not be consumed by it. That was the balance I had found in the midst of the battle. The harmony between power and control, between destruction and restraint.

Korvan had failed to see that. He had given everything to the fire of his berserk flame, hoping it would carry him through. But power without direction was nothing but chaos. He had unleashed everything he had, only to watch it slip through his fingers, unable to harness the very force he had relied on.

The realization settled over me like a quiet calm. The feeling of bloodlust, of reckless abandon—it was still there, but now I understood its place. I wouldn't deny it, nor would I let it rule me. It was a tool, just like my sword, and it was up to me to wield it with precision, not desperation.

Korvan's body lay still now, his face frozen in disbelief. He had never understood what true power meant. He had thought it was in raw strength, in overwhelming force. But power was more than that. It was the mastery of oneself, the ability to direct that strength with purpose and clarity.

That was it.

The difference between us wasn't just in skill or strength—it was in understanding. Korvan had fought as a man desperate to win at any cost, while I had fought as a swordsman who knew his limits, who had found the balance between power and precision.

In the end, it wasn't just about defeating him. It was about mastering the battle within myself.

Chapter 124: Korvan (6)

As Korvan's lifeless body slumped to the ground, I let out a long, slow breath, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. The adrenaline that had carried me through the fight began to fade, replaced by a dull ache that spread through my entire body. Every muscle screamed in protest, my wounds burning with the pain I had managed to ignore until now.

I staggered backward, my vision swimming slightly. The world around me spun for a brief moment before I collapsed onto the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. My breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle as I lay there, staring up at the dark sky. The battle had taken more out of me than I had realized.

Reaching for my spatial pouch, I fumbled for a moment before my fingers found the small vial of healing potion that Roderick had given me. It was a simple concoction meant to speed up recovery from minor injuries, but it would have to do for now.

I uncorked the vial with shaky hands, downing its contents in one quick motion. The familiar taste of bitter herbs and something metallic hit my tongue, and almost immediately, I felt a soothing warmth spread through my body. The pain dulled slightly, though it didn't disappear entirely. The potion was working, but it wouldn't be enough to heal me completely. I'd need time—time I didn't have.

[Reckless, as always,] Vitaliara's voice echoed softly in my mind as she appeared at my side. The sleek black fur of her feline form shimmered faintly under the moonlight as she began to lick one of the gashes on my arm, her tongue warm and oddly comforting. [You push yourself too far.]

"I had to," I muttered, wincing as the pain in my ribs flared up again. "Korvan wasn't the kind of opponent I could afford to hold back against."

[You say that every time,] she replied with a hint of amusement. [And yet, every time, you end up like this—on the ground, half-dead.]

I chuckled, though it hurt to do so. "Guess I have a habit of picking fights that are too big for me."

Vitaliara let out a soft purr as she continued tending to my wounds. [You've mastered the art of survival, even if your methods leave much to be desired.]

"Survival's what matters," I said, closing my eyes for a moment as the healing potion worked its way through my system, easing some of the pain. "The rest is just… details."

[Still,] she mused, [you're not invincible. And one day, this recklessness is going to catch up with you.]

I didn't respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between us as I focused on catching my breath. The battle had drained me, but I was alive. That was enough for now.

Finally, I opened my eyes, glancing down at the estoc lying beside me, its blade now dulled and scratched from the intensity of the fight. "I know," I said quietly. "But until then… I'll keep pushing forward."

Vitaliara paused in her licking, her golden eyes meeting mine. [Just don't forget that you're not alone in this.]

I smiled weakly. "I haven't forgotten."

With her help, I managed to sit up, though the pain still lingered in my body. Korvan was dead, and his bandit network would soon crumble.

"How are the others doing?" I asked, my voice steadying as the potion worked its magic, dulling the pain coursing through my body.

Vitaliara paused for a moment, her eyes flickering as she reached out with her senses, no doubt checking on the status of the rest of the battle. [They're fine,] she replied, her voice laced with calm confidence. [After that knight with the golden aura—Roderick, I believe—took down the last of the 3-star warriors, the rest of the fight became trivial. No one left standing can match him now.]

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Good. It sounds like the others have things under control then." I took a deep breath, the taste of the healing potion still lingering on my tongue. "That means it's time for me to claim my reward."

[Your reward?] Vitaliara's tail flicked in curiosity, though her voice carried a hint of amusement. [Don't tell me you're going to meditate right here.]

I nodded. "Of course. Korvan was a peak 3-star warrior, and the death mana he's left behind is far greater than anything I've come across so far. It'd be a waste to leave it unattended."

Vitaliara sighed, though there was an edge of approval in her tone. [You really are something. But I suppose it makes sense, considering what you're after.]

I shifted my position, sitting up straighter as I prepared to focus. The energy in the air was thick, saturated with the death that Korvan had unleashed in his final moments. It swirled around me, invisible yet palpable, waiting to be absorbed.

Closing my eyes, I reached out with my senses, feeling the ebb and flow of the death mana lingering in the area. It was heavy, oppressive even, but that only made it more valuable.

This was the kind of energy that would push my cultivation further, the kind that would help me unlock more of the power within.

'Yes… this is exactly what I need.'

I could feel Vitaliara watching me closely as I settled into the familiar rhythm of my meditation, my breathing slowing as I began to draw in the death mana around me. It flowed into me like a slow, dark river, filling the void within and merging with the power already coursing through my body.

[Just don't push yourself too far,] she warned, her voice soft but firm. [You're still wounded.]

"I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I focused on the flow of energy. "But this… this is an opportunity I can't pass up."

As I sat there, absorbing the death mana from Korvan's fallen body, I felt a surge of energy flood through me. The weight of it was immense, far more powerful than anything I'd experienced from lesser foes. This wasn't like absorbing the death energy from some beast or low-level bandit. This was different.

Korvan had been a peak 3-star Awakened, and the energy he left behind carried the weight of his power, his life force, and all the battles he had fought.

The dark energy swirled around me, seeping into my body, and I could feel the slow but steady formation of a second vortex in my core—the [Flame of Equinox]. It had been progressing for a while now, but always at a slow pace since I needed to constantly meditate and draw in the surrounding energy. But now, with Korvan's death, the process was accelerating.

I felt the flame within me—[The Flame of Vitality]—react to the death mana. It balanced the opposing forces with delicate precision, allowing the two to coexist without tearing me apart. It was a dangerous process, but one I had become familiar with. The [Flame of Equinox] was the key to mastering the balance between life and death, a path that few dared to walk.

As the second vortex started to form, I could feel my entire being changing. The power within me was growing, expanding beyond what I had thought possible.

My muscles tightened, my mana core pulsed with renewed strength, and my senses sharpened as the energy coursed through me. Every fiber of my being felt alive with the newfound power, and I couldn't help but smile at the feeling.

'Stronger… much stronger,' I thought, my eyes still closed as I maintained my focus on the absorption process. The death energy flowed into me like a torrent, filling the second vortex to the brim.

[You're getting stronger,] Vitaliara noted, her voice now laced with quiet satisfaction. [Korvan's power is more potent than you anticipated, isn't it?]

"It is," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Much stronger than I thought."

[Heh…. That is because he had killed countless different people before,] Vitaliara's voice echoed softly in my mind, laced with quiet understanding.

I felt her gaze settle on me as I continued to absorb Korvan's death energy, the torrent of dark mana filling me with more power than I had ever anticipated. But there was something in her tone—a hint of unease, as if there was more to this power than I understood.

[You know,] she began, her voice soft but firm, [every action we take leaves an imprint on the world. Whether we realize it or not, the choices we make—especially the darker ones—bind us to something greater.]

I opened my eyes slightly, still focusing on the energy coursing through me, but her words caught my attention. "What do you mean?"

Vitaliara paused for a moment, her tail flicking thoughtfully. [It's a concept that many refuse to acknowledge, but it's real. You've heard of karma, haven't you?]

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've heard the term."

[Karma, in essence, is the accumulation of one's deeds—good or bad,] she explained, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim light of the night. [But it's not just a moral principle. It's an actual force that lingers in the air, in the very fabric of existence. Every person leaves a trace of their actions behind, a kind of imprint that's tied to their soul.]

Her words sank in, and I couldn't help but think of Korvan. The sheer amount of death mana swirling around me, far more potent than I had ever encountered before, seemed to resonate with what she was saying.

"So you're saying Korvan…?" I asked, trailing off as I tried to piece it together.

[Korvan's actions—the lives he took, the evil he spread—they didn't just vanish into thin air,] Vitaliara continued, her voice steady. [They left a mark on him, and that mark has become part of the energy he's left behind. His soul was corrupted by the countless lives he destroyed, and that corruption became a part of him, an imprint on his very being.]

'I see...that makes sense…..'

The oppressive weight of the death mana wasn't just Korvan's strength—it was the weight of all the wrongs he had committed, the lives he had taken, and the darkness that had consumed him.

[If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back.]