Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 254: Myst in Motion (2)

After that, Ketal relentlessly continued his assault on the fortress.

He would gather his Myst, condense it into a single devastating strike, and slam it against the dark wall. When he reached his Myst limit, he would retreat, recover until he was refreshed, and then resume his attacks all over again. This process repeated, day and night, a cycle of destruction and recovery, pressure and release. Each round, Ketal’s movements grew more efficient, his control over the Myst tightening.

The result was simple: Carbarax was being driven to desperation.

Every moment was a struggle for him. He poured everything into defending against Ketal’s attacks, using every ounce of cunning and demonic power to keep Ketal from reaching the heart of the fortress. Each time he managed to restore the wall, Ketal would reduce it to dust once more. Onlookers, watching the cycle of devastation, began to feel almost sorry for the demon. It was as if a cruel fate had singled him out for punishment, and Ketal was the judge, jury, and executioner.

Also, through this process, Ketal was evolving.

At first, it had taken him several minutes to gather enough Myst for a single punch. Now, he could gather the same force in less than ten seconds. The number of times he could unleash his full strength before reaching his limit had also increased noticeably. His mastery of Myst was accelerating at a rate that surprised even his teacher.

Watching the progression, Kain murmured in awe, “Your rate of mastery is much faster than I expected.”

Since Ketal had learned to control the flow of Myst, he had improved at a startling pace. Even Kain, who considered himself a seasoned Swordmaster and instructor, felt that he would soon have nothing left to teach.

“At this rate, I’ll run out of things to teach you before long,” he said, his voice carrying both pride and a trace of melancholy.

“There are still things you could teach me.” Ketal’s eyes sparkled, his eagerness undiminished. “Your swordsmanship. I want to learn that too.”

There was genuine longing in Ketal’s gaze. Kain’s style, an art that blurred the lines between illusion and reality, was the first true fantasy swordsmanship Ketal had ever seen. Its allure was irresistible. He was determined to learn it, no matter the challenge.

“That’s... probably impossible,” he admitted quietly, his expression clouding over.

“Impossible?” Ketal’s eyes widened, the answer catching him off guard. “Why? Is it something that can’t be taught to others? But you have a disciple, don’t you?”

“No, that’s not the problem,” Kain replied, shaking his head. “The problem is that you’re just too strong.”

Ketal blinked, taken aback. “Too strong?”

Kain's swordsmanship had only become possible after he first stepped into the realm of the Transcendent. At that level, one could begin to shape and control Myst, using it to impose their will upon the world. In that context, swordsmanship was merely one possible manifestation. The way he wielded Myst was entirely his own—something unique, something he had forged at the threshold of true power.

“In other words, my style is almost a kind of authority. Of course, my realm is far beneath the level where that term truly applies, but the concept is similar,” Kain said. He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But you... You’re simply too strong.”

Ketal’s abilities had long since surpassed the realm Kain was describing.

He had reached the domain of Heroes, the level where Myst itself became an extension of will, the mind imposing itself upon reality. For someone at Ketal’s level, learning Kain’s technique would be pointless. Whatever power Ketal could exert through it would be but a shadow of his true potential.

“You probably don’t even realize it yourself,” Kain continued, “but there must be a method of using Myst that only you are capable of. Your own authority. Your own signature.”

Ketal fell silent, stroking his chin in contemplation.

***

Ketal continued to immerse himself in the practice of Myst control. He was no longer content with simply gathering power and unleashing it in bursts of strength. Now, he could wrap his body in Myst and sustain it for extended periods, reinforcing his muscles, hardening his skin, accelerating his reflexes. However, that, too, was not enough. He hungered for more. He wanted to go even further, to reach the next stage.

However, time was running short. A solemn atmosphere settled over the camp when the Archbishop, who had gathered all the Transcendents, delivered his news with composure.

“A revelation has come down,” he announced. “The Flower of Sin will soon bloom. We must resolve everything before that happens.”

“The Flower of Sin... Do you mean that pink bud over there?” Ketal asked him, glancing at the monstrous, writhing blossom atop the corrupted sanctuary.

“I believe so. I do not know exactly what it is, but this revelation came directly from the Earth Goddess. They have remained silent even after the descent of the highest-ranking demons, but regarding this flower, they have issued a direct and urgent warning,” the Archbishop explained.

That was all the evidence they needed. If even a god was concerned, they could not afford to waste another moment.

“We’ll begin at dawn. Ketal, I’m sorry to ask, but we’ll have to rely on you,” the Archbishop said.

“There’s no need to apologize. I’ll do my best.”

That night, Ketal and Kain sat by the fire, talking quietly.

“Tomorrow is the end,” Kain remarked. “Strange, but I actually feel a bit sad.”

“So do I.” Ketal offered a faint smile. “Once this is over, you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. There’s still so much I want to learn from you.”

Kain regarded him seriously, his gaze steady.

“Thank you,” he said, voice low but sincere. To teach Myst to a Hero had been overwhelming, even frightening. However, in the end, it had brought enormous benefits to his homeland. He was grateful, even if the experience had left him exhausted.

Ketal grinned, “It helped me just as much. More, even. And it was fun.”

However, there was a hint of dissatisfaction, a longing that remained unresolved.

“I can’t quite reach the level I want,” Ketal murmured.

The manifestation of Myst was the next step of wielding Myst; most Advanced individuals could do this. If he could reach that point, he would be able to wrap his blade in pure Myst, much like the old tales of Aura blades and sword qi. However, he hadn’t managed it yet.

It wasn’t that the theory eluded him. He understood what was needed. The real problem was the beast within—the living force of Myst that raged inside his heart.

He could force the beast to empower his flesh, but whenever he tried to externalize the energy, to manifest it outside his body, the beast would react violently, thrashing and bucking with primal fury.

“How do I get past this?” he wondered aloud.

Kain answered with his usual practical calm. “You need more Myst. Manifestation requires an Advanced reserve of Myst. You have it, but you’re not in full control. Too much of your power is spent suppressing the beast. The more power you gain, the greater your ability to extract it while keeping it under control.”

“So I just need to increase it,” Ketal mused, but he grimaced.

It was easier said than done. He only had as much power as he did now because he had swallowed the Dragon Heart. Gaining more would be difficult, and he had no idea what kind of material could even make it possible.

Should I try using the fragment of the god? A fleeting, absurd thought passed through his mind. He thought of the piece of Ferderica that he still possessed. Maybe that would work as a catalyst. However, it was so fundamentally different, so alien, that he didn’t know if it was safe to use.

However, that was for another day. For now, he had to tame the beast within. He racked his brain for a solution. There had been one moment, during the battle with Ferderica, when the beast had helped him voluntarily. It had risen up, not for its own sake, but because it hated seeing Ketal attacked by the god. Like a sullen hunting hound that would only obey its master when the quarry was worthy.

Is it a question of enemies? he wondered. The beast had judged Ferderica as a true enemy, powerful enough to warrant its effort.

Ketal’s eyes narrowed in the gloom. He began to suspect that the only way to truly tame his Myst was to face another threat, another opponent strong enough to rouse the beast’s fighting spirit.

At that very moment, something was changing within the fortress, deep under Carbarax’s control. The monstrous flower at the heart of the sanctum was beginning to open. Its petals, closed and dormant until now, were slowly, inexorably unfurling.

***

The next day dawned.

Everyone was ready. Ketal stood at the front, the vanguard. His fist crackled with Myst as he charged at the wall and unleashed a blow. The wall didn’t just break, it turned to powder, vaporized in an instant.

“Damn it!” Carbarax snarled, scrambling to restore the wall. He began to summon it again with all his might.

However, this time, the Archbishop did not simply watch. He stepped forward, reciting the sacred words, his voice ringing with authority.

“Papirana, Chapter 11, Verse 45! The land you have touched has become bountiful, and famine has never come to that earth!” he chanted.

A pure, holy radiance poured out, sweeping over Carbarax’s domain. The wall, half-formed, began to crumble under the weight of the scripture’s blessing.

Carbarax ground his teeth. “Cursed dog of the gods!”

Until now, the Archbishop had been unable to interfere with Carbarax’s territory. The difference in strength was too great, and with the sanctum corrupted, divine power could not overcome the demonic energy. However, thanks to Ketal’s repeated assaults, Carbarax’s strength had finally begun to wane. There was now a real gap, a sliver of opportunity for the divine to take hold.

As a result, the wall was incomplete, riddled with weaknesses.

“Everyone! Charge!” the Archbishop commanded.

At his call, the allied forces surged forward, a tidal wave of humanity crashing toward the breach.

The demons did not stand idly by. Monsters rose from the ground, hideous jaws gnashing, while the dark mages unleashed spells of pure malice. Chaos erupted as both sides collided with the full force of their might.

Carbarax, realizing he could no longer restore the wall, put all his strength into attack instead.

“Die!” he shouted. With a flick of his wrist, dozens of demonic instruments appeared above him. Each one emitted a jet of black light so powerful that it could erase even the earth itself. Those rays of darkness flooded the sky, blotting out the sun, bringing terror to all who looked up.

Anyone struck by that light would be annihilated, no matter their strength. However, the allied force had another card up their sleeve.

“Heh.” Fiego, the Legendary fire spirit, stamped its hoof. Flames erupted, blooming into a wall of crimson fire.

Fiego was no ordinary spirit. It contained within it the primordial fire. In raw power, Fiego was every bit Carbarax’s equal. The fire and the darkness clashed in the sky, detonating in bursts of searing brightness.

“You pitiful demon, you would dare defile the Mortal Realm? You have never known your place, Carbarax,” Fiego sneered.

“Damned beast!” Carbarax snarled, lashing out in rage. His weapons rained black fire down on the earth, carving lines of destruction through the ranks. The ground shook with the collision of forces.

Despite its strength, Fiego was slowly being pushed back. This was, after all, the heart of Carbarax’s power. Here, evil was ascendant, and Fiego’s fire could not fully resist. In the end, all it could do was shield the people from destruction, holding back the worst of the assault. However, that was enough.

“Finish it, master.” Fiego’s voice rang out, clear and unwavering.

Through the barrage of black fire, a single figure launched itself forward, cutting through the darkness. Carbarax reacted instantly, pouring every ounce of his energy into stopping the intruder. Dozens of projectiles slammed into the figure. Yet it did nothing..

Carbarax’s attacks might as well have been a summer breeze for all the effect they had. The figure walked right through, unaffected. Dust and stone scattered as Ketal landed in front of Carbarax, the earth cracking beneath him. Carbarax batted aside the debris with a snarl.

“So you’ve come at last,” he spat.

“Took longer than I’d hoped,” Ketal replied with a wry grin.

Carbarax clenched his teeth, barely keeping himself from screaming. “You... you’re supposed to be a being of the Demon Realm. How in the world can you use Myst—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ketal interrupted, his gaze drifting to the massive flower behind Carbarax. The petals were slowly peeling open, revealing something vast and unspeakably vile within.

“It’s about to bloom. I’d love to watch it unfold, but... my role is clear. I can’t let that happen. This ends now.”

“Die!” Carbarax howled, unleashing the full force of his power.

Carbarax was on the same level as Lubitra, the Demon of Twisting Threads. Black light burst forth. Each beam was strong enough to shatter mountains. There were dozens, hundreds, all converging on Ketal. Carbarax’s determination was absolute. Even if it meant his own destruction, he was resolved to stop Ketal at any cost.

However, Ketal wasn’t even interested. “I’m sorry, but I’ve seen too many like you. You’re not interesting anymore.”

What Ketal cared about was not the demon in front of him, but what the demon was guarding. With Myst swirling around his entire body, Ketal strode forward. The black light struck him, shattering like glass against his body. His walk never slowed.

Carbarax could only watch, helpless, as Ketal arrived before him.

“You...”

“Goodbye,” Ketal said softly.

He gathered the full force of his Myst, gripped Carbarax by the head, and crushed it, ending the demon’s existence in a single, unceremonious gesture.