Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 253: Myst in Motion (1)

Ketal’s left leg, charged with newly mastered Myst, struck the earth with a force he had never before attempted. His movements were deliberate and measured, his concentration absolute. For an instant, there was only silence, as if the world itself held its breath.

Kain, standing nearby, watched with mounting anxiety, expecting some catastrophic result. Yet, contrary to his instincts and all the warnings his senses screamed, nothing seemed to happen at all.

“What?” Kain muttered, his eyes scanning the unbroken ground.

The earth remained utterly still, as if Ketal’s mighty stomp had been no more than the footfall of a common man. There was no crater, no debris, no shockwave. For a moment, the anticlimax was so profound that Kain wondered if Ketal’s experiment had simply failed, since such overwhelming power seemed to produce no effect at all.

Just then, the change began.

At first, it was a faint tremor, so subtle Kain thought he might have imagined it. Then the ground began to vibrate, gently at first, but with alarming speed, the vibrations grew in magnitude. A rumbling noise swelled from beneath their feet, and before anyone could react, the ground itself started to shake in earnest.

Kain’s heart pounded. “What’s... going on?”

The tremor quickly escalated into a quake, shaking the very earth beneath them. The once-stable ground buckled and split, deep cracks spiderwebbing outward in every direction. The soil shuddered as if something titanic was stirring below. The quaking intensified, and within moments, it became nearly impossible to keep one’s balance. Cracks ripped through the earth with a deafening roar.

Kain stumbled as a chasm opened beneath him, threatening to swallow him whole. He managed to leap away just in time, using all his Transcendent reflexes to propel himself into the air, landing a safe distance away. As he glanced back, he saw the ground where he had been standing moments ago collapse into a gaping fissure.

“What the hell!” he shouted from midair, his voice trembling.

Looking down, he saw that the entire plain was being torn apart. The devastation was enormous—whole swathes of the landscape shattering as if a giant had smashed the ground with an invisible hammer. This was no mere display of force, no metaphorical earth-shattering blow. It was an earthquake, a true and natural cataclysm unleashed by the will of a single being.

Of course, it was not entirely unfamiliar. In countless battles before, Ketal had left scars upon the earth, his strength cleaving rifts in stone and dirt, making the ground tremble as though a small quake had struck. However, all those times, the destruction had been contained—a patch of land, a ridge, a ravine. This was different.

This was not simply power; it was something far deeper. The Myst Ketal now wielded resonated with the very bones of the world, reaching deep into the crust and sending shockwaves rippling outward. He had touched the core of nature itself, and it responded.

The tremors rolled out in every direction, growing in scope and fury. The camp itself, though distant from Ketal’s experiment, was not spared.

Tents collapsed as the ground heaved. The soil split open, sending warriors and priests scrambling for safety.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s an earthquake!”

“Take cover!”

People shouted in confusion and fear as the world seemed to come apart around them. The Archbishop, usually unflappable, looked on in horror.

“It’s an earthquake! Everyone, be careful!” he shouted, struggling to remain upright.

For a few terrifying minutes, chaos reigned. Yet, as quickly as it had begun, the earthquake subsided, the ground settling into uneasy silence. Dust drifted in the air, and those who had survived unscathed slowly rose, dazed and battered, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“Was... was that really an earthquake?” someone muttered, brushing dirt from their tunic.

“By the gods. I thought I was finished,” another gasped, clutching their chest.

Most could not imagine that the catastrophe had been caused by anything other than nature’s wrath. The idea that a single man could have been responsible never even crossed their minds.

Meanwhile, at the epicenter of the destruction, the ground was devastated beyond recognition. Deep fissures gaped where there had once been flat land, and boulders jutted up in jagged heaps. The last convulsions of the quake rocked the ground, and Kain lost his footing, nearly toppling into the chasm. Ketal moved with startling speed, catching him and pulling him back to safety.

“Thank you,” Kain said, gulping hard.

Ketal shook his head. “No, I should apologize. This happened because of me.”

Kain had no words. He simply stared at the ruined earth before them.

The dust slowly settled. The only thing left in front of them was a desolate wasteland, the entire plain ravaged and broken.

“I think the lesson is over,” Kain muttered at last, his voice hollow.

Ketal flexed his leg experimentally, a pleased smile playing on his lips. “I’ve gotten stronger.”

He could feel his power now reaching places it never had before. Before, he had shaken the earth with brute force, but now, his strength had penetrated to the very bedrock, unleashing a true earthquake. The difference was profound.

Yet, perhaps most importantly, his body was completely unharmed. He had unleashed all that power, and felt no backlash. For the first time, he felt that his physique matched the force he could muster. A feeling of satisfaction filled him.

“Still, the Myst is churning inside me,” Ketal noted, looking inward. “It’ll take some time to settle down. Is that normal?”

He turned to Kain for advice, but found his teacher speechless, staring at him as though seeing a monster.

***

That night, Kain sat with the Archbishop, who looked utterly stricken.

“So, you’re telling me,” the Archbishop said, voice barely steady, “that the earthquake this afternoon was caused by Ketal’s footstep?”

Kain nodded, his expression grim.

“Oh, heavens,” the Archbishop murmured, pressing a hand to his face.

An earthquake was a force of nature and an unstoppable display of destruction. Even in modern Earth, with all their science and weapons, could not conjure such a thing at will. However, Ketal had done it, with a single step. He wielded power that could shake the very planet.

Equally shaken, Kain whispered, “Is that... is that what being a Hero is?”

The Archbishop shook his head immediately. “No. Not at all.”

Even the Hero of the Earth Goddess’s Church could not conjure earthquakes. Perhaps, with a sacred relic and elaborate rituals, they might call down some disaster, but not like this, not in an instant, not through pure Myst alone.

Who was Ketal, really? What did the White Snowfield conceal? Kain’s mind raced, struggling to understand the man he was teaching.

The next morning, Kain wasted no time. He found Ketal and spoke with uncharacteristic urgency.

“From now on, when you use Myst, you’re going to focus on minimizing the aftershocks. Don’t stomp the ground. Understood?”

“Understood,” Ketal replied, nodding obediently.

He agreed with the sentiment. The previous day’s destruction had not been a true success. He had failed to restrain his power, and the beast within him had gone wild, like an animal finally released from its cage, tearing about uncontrollably. It had taken him over an hour just to wrestle it back under control.

This won’t do, Ketal thought. If I can’t restrain this strength, I’m little better than a walking catastrophe. What matters is not just raw power, but the ability to handle it. I need to use it with precision and intent.

He breathed deeply, focusing inward. The key was to call forth only as much Myst as he could handle, cloaking his body with its energy in a slow, measured way. The image was of a gentle shroud, not a raging beast.

Kain watched in awe. Ketal’s improvement was rapid, his control growing sharper by the hour. His Myst was wild and unique, but his talent for adaptation was beyond anything Kain had witnessed.

What have I awakened? Kain wondered, a cold sweat breaking out. How far can he go?

However, there was no turning back. He would see this through to the end.

“Imagine you’re wrapping Myst around your whole body,” Kain instructed. “Hold it in place, let it circulate. Picture it as a second skin, protecting every inch.”

“Alright.” Ketal closed his eyes, feeling the power flow, holding it steady.

His body hardened, gaining new resilience. At this level, only the highest-level Transcendents could even hope to scratch him. Even a god would have difficulty intervening.

It’s been so long, Ketal thought, savoring the feeling of climbing to a new height. For years in the White Snowfield, he had hit a wall, unable to progress no matter how he trained.

Now, at last, the limits were breaking. He was getting stronger, in the way he’d always wanted—not through shortcuts, but by mastering Myst itself.

His sense of lack began to fill, and for the first time in ages, Ketal felt whole.

***

Two days passed in this way, with Ketal growing steadily more accustomed to his newfound abilities. At the end of the second day, Kain gave his assessment.

“You’ve got the basics down now.”

“Really?” Ketal’s eyes brightened with anticipation.

Kain nodded. “It’s time to see what you can really do. We should test your power for real.”

A sparring match would have been ideal, but there was no one present capable of serving as a suitable opponent.

Ketal’s smile was mischievous. “No need to worry. There’s something right here that’ll make a perfect test.”

Kain’s eyes widened as he realized what Ketal meant. The great black wall, the demon-forged fortress, stood in the distance, looming over them all.

***

When Ketal approached the fortress, the Mercenary King was on the field, directing the ongoing siege.

“How are things going?” Ketal asked him.

“We keep trying, but it’s not working. That wall is too damn strong. Even with me and Fiego, we can’t make a dent.” The Mercenary King sighed, shaking his head. He glanced at Ketal, acknowledging the truth. “I suppose the demon who designed it really did earn his reputation during the Divine-Demonic War.”

Ketal grinned, a spark in his eye. “Mind if I give it a shot?”

“You?” The Mercenary King began, but cut himself off as he recalled Ketal’s reputation. “You’ve... got the feeling for it now, huh? Go ahead. I’ll get people clear, just in case.”

“No need,” Ketal said, still smiling. “I think I’ve got it under control.”

***

The pitch-black fortress wall towered above everything, its presence overwhelming. Atop that rampart, Carbarax, the Demon of Design, was watching, a low, satisfied chuckle bubbling up from his chest as he surveyed the battlefield below.

“Go ahead and try your best to break through. In the end, it’s impossible for the likes of you,” he muttered.

He felt genuinely good. With both Fiego and the Mercenary King pinned down here, two of the continent’s greatest forces were stuck wasting their strength before his fortress. For the legions of Hell invading the Mortal Realm, it was a tremendous advantage. Carbarax fully intended to keep them occupied, to bind up as much power on this side as possible.

The barbarian, too, hadn’t been seen in days. After discovering that brute force alone meant nothing here, the man had vanished. Nothing had managed to shake Carbarax’s mood or disturb his plans ever since.

“Soon, the moment of blooming will be upon us,” he murmured, his eyes shifting to the giant pink flower rising from the corrupted holy ground.

The blossom was devouring the sanctuary’s demonic energy with a voracious appetite, growing faster by the hour. When it finally bloomed, everyone on this side would perish. This surface world would finally have to confront a horror beyond its darkest nightmares.

Carbarax was still smiling, feeling almost triumphant, as he glanced again over the ramparts, only to see his expression twist into disbelief.

“You...!” He staggered, the color draining from his face. The giant barbarian was approaching, step by step, utterly calm.

The fortress’s automatic defenses sprang to life with a deep mechanical roar. Dozens of cannons and countless enchanted arrows fired at once, a barrage of destruction aimed directly at Ketal.

“Oh, it’s been a while,” Ketal called out, as if greeting an old friend. His expression was almost gleeful as he casually flicked his fingers.

That tiny gesture shattered every projectile, reducing cannonballs and bolts to splinters and dust before they ever reached him.

Didn’t he run away? Carbarax stared in horror. For days, the barbarian had been gone. Carbarax had almost believed he’d given up and left the battlefield. However, now, just as everything was proceeding perfectly, he was back and calmly walking toward the wall.

For a moment, panic flickered across Carbarax’s face. However, he quickly forced himself to calm down.

It’s fine. That barbarian can’t destroy the fortress. He’s strong, sure, but he can’t use Myst. So long as that hasn’t changed, it’s meaningless. He can tear down the wall a thousand times, and I’ll rebuild it a thousand and one.

His confidence restored, Carbarax gave another condescending laugh, though his voice wavered just a little. “Come to waste your time again, have you, barbarian?”

Of course, he still couldn’t quite keep the anxiety out of his tone, but Ketal didn’t miss a word.

“I just want to see something for myself,” Ketal replied, coming to a halt before the fortress. He drew a deep breath, steadied his stance, and began to focus.

Carbarax frowned, noticing that Ketal simply stood there, unmoving, eyes closed.

Is he meditating? Trying to intimidate me? Carbarax thought. However, after only a moment, his eyes went wide.

On Ketal’s right arm, a pale light began to gather, swirling and thickening.

“Wait! Hold on!” Carbarax shouted, voice cracking with panic. “How are you—!”

Ketal’s arm blazed as Myst coiled around his fist, the energy growing more concentrated with every passing heartbeat. Suddenly desperate, Carbarax threw everything he had at Ketal. Waves of hellfire, curses, and shadowy chains surged forth, yet none of them made the slightest mark. The barbarian stood utterly unbothered, the attacks glancing harmlessly off his skin.

At last, Ketal opened his eyes. With a sharp exhale, he drew back his fist and struck the black wall.

The moment his Myst made contact, the fortress did not just crack—it disintegrated. The entire section of wall facing Ketal was reduced to nothing, vaporized in an instant, as if the stone itself had never existed.

The sound of the blow exploded outward, reverberating across the corrupted sanctuary. The force ripped through the fortress, obliterating anything in its path. Inside, dark mages who’d been resting were obliterated, killed before they even knew what had hit them. The enormous demon flower at the heart of the sanctum shuddered violently, its petals quivering.

“What...?”

“My god...”

Those watching from a distance stared in utter disbelief. The black fortress wall had not just been breached; it had been erased, reduced to dust that scattered in the wind.

“This is insane!” Carbarax shouted.

His face twisted in horror. He frantically raised his hands, pouring all his demonic energy into rebuilding the wall. Bricks materialized in midair, assembling in a frantic swirl, the defenses reforming. Catapults and ballistae sprang back into place.

However, there was a difference now—a tangible loss of power. His magic flickered, just for a moment, and there was a clear delay in the fortress’s restoration. Unlike before, Ketal’s blow had left behind a mark.

“Oh? Looks like it’s working,” Ketal said with a satisfied grin.

He drew in his breath again, gathering more Myst, and launched another punch at the newly restored wall.

The reconstructed fortress was reduced to powder again, scattered to the winds. Carbarax’s eyes rolled back as he bit down in panic, desperately forcing the wall to reappear. He summoned all his energy, restoring the defenses yet again.

It became a cycle; Ketal would gather Myst, strike, and the wall would vanish. Carbarax, trembling and drenched in cold sweat, would hastily rebuild it, only to watch Ketal destroy it again and again.

After several repetitions, Ketal finally lowered his fist and shook out his arm.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he said, still smiling with deep satisfaction. “Looks like four times is my current limit.”

He could feel the Myst within him surging, almost wild, but under his control. That was as far as he could push it right now.

Huff... Huff. Carbarax panted, his body trembling. He’d just barely managed to keep the fortress standing, but his strength was rapidly being drained. He wiped the sweat from his brow, staring at Ketal in terror.

How... How is this happening? Carbarax’s mind reeled. That barbarian was supposed to be crippled, lacking Myst. He was incomplete... and now suddenly, that emptiness has been filled!

Everything had changed. What had once seemed like an easy defense, a slow and steady war of attrition, had become a desperate struggle for survival. Where Carbarax had felt invincible, now he was forced to use all his might just to stay ahead of Ketal’s relentless onslaught.

Ketal looked up at the fortress, meeting Carbarax’s gaze with a calm, almost playful smile.

“Keep doing your best to defend,” Ketal called out, his tone light. “I’m counting on you.”

At least until I get a bit more practice in... try not to fall apart too soon, Ketal thought.

Carbarax’s face had gone ghostly pale, the confidence he’d worn moments before completely shattered.