-Thud!
Bola's head smashed into the hard ground, sinking deep.
The ground cracked like a spider's web around his head.
The sight of such a large man, with muscles that could be overwhelming, lying on the ground in a handstand seemed alien.
Sisters Croix and Attila, who had been about to warn Osian of the danger, widened their eyes at the sight before them.
Only Orlea shook her head, saying, "At least this is understandable.”
"Bola, in a single blow?"
Despite the difference in weight, Bola was a powerful, melee-oriented monster, as his appearance suggested.
The fact that he caught him off guard and slammed his head into the ground in the blink of an eye showed that Osian's physical prowess was no less than Bola's
"For someone who talks a lot, you sure are pretty bland."Releasing his hand from his face, Osian brushed his wrist and muttered something about it being no big deal.
If it came down to it, the Croix and Attila sisters were the more difficult to deal with.
Just when he thought it's over, Croix, still pinned to the spear, shouts.
"Look out, he's not down yet!"
No sooner had Croix finished speaking than Bola, lying upside down on the ground, moved.
He planted his legs firmly on the ground, and with a strong push from the waist, he pulled his head right off.
"I must have misunderstood. That blow just now was quite spicy. Fixer."
Bola stroked his chin with his hand, a fierce hostility shining in his eyes.
"Even though I let my guard down, I can't remember the last time I took a hit so easily. It's not much of a reward, but from now on, I'll tear you apart with all my strength."
Bola roughly threw the coat of his suit off of his body and began to strain his entire body.
Croix watched, biting her lip hard.
Bola is a rare killer and mass murderer who has torn more than a hundred people alive.
His history of slaughtering small, rural villages on the outskirts of the countryside was serious enough to make front-page news at the time.
According to testimonies, men, women, and children were all killed, and the scene was filled with blood and corpses.
The crime was quickly exposed, and Bola went on a killing spree before being captured.
Before he was locked up in Uluaz prison, a journalist asked him,
"Why did you kill all those people in the countryside? What kind of grudge did you have against them?"
Bola's response has become quite famous.
-A grudge? There is no such thing. The first time they saw me, they smiled and handed me soup. That's just the reason.
He killed everyone who approached him warmly with a smile, just because they annoyed him, even though they weren't even hostile towards him.
Bola was such a man.
But the fact that he was still alive and not executed was because his value was so high.
"Behold!"
Bola's body grew larger and larger.
Brown fur grew on his already massive body, his snout lengthened, and razor-sharp claws grew on his majestic hands.
Ossian's head slowly tilted upward as he stared at Bola.
Bola, now a giant bear, bared his sharp teeth.
"Beastman?"
Bola's appearance resembled the beast transformation used by the beastmen but Osian quickly realized it wasn't.
The beast transformation didn't make them many times their size.
The beastification of the beastmen he'd seen in the game didn't change their body shape much, being half human and half beast.
"Are you a mutant?"
"Ho. You've got quite the sharp eye, don't you?"
Bola was a human, not a beastman, but a mutant.
His powers as a mutant literally allowed him to beastify like an ape.
His size increases, his strength, stamina, and muscular endurance all skyrocket, and his thick hide allows him to deflect bullets with ease.
"And this!"
A bluish aura formed on Bola's hands.
Osian watched carefully, wondering if that was another of Bola's mutant abilities.
"What the hell are you doing? Dodge!"
Croix shouted as he saw Bola swing his arm.
Osian tried to parry the attack, but the eerie sensation of electricity on his skin caused him to kick the ground and pull back.
Bola's arm sliced through the air, the hard ground cracking with a loud thud in its path.
Bola's nails hadn't even touched it, but pure wind pressure alone had made the mark.
A blue aura lingered like an afterimage in the wake of the swinging hand.
Osian looked back at Croix and asked with a glare.
What the hell was that?
"Bola may be a mutant, but he's also a mana user! Melee combat with him is dangerous!"
A mana user?
Osian thought for a moment, then realized it was one of the things he'd learned in his recent work.
‘Mana user. They didn't exist in the original game.’
The only classes that use mana in the game are mages and warlocks.
Most playable characters had a blue MP gauge, but it didn't all boil down to mana.
For paladins and priests, it could be holy power, and for barbarian warriors, it could be ancestral power or cold power.
The same was true for the wandering knight, Osian.
A knight's power is called aura, and Osian's was the deepest and purest of the auras, the power of the stars.
The idea that other classes, at least outside of wizards and warlocks, manipulated mana didn't exist in the game.
‘I suppose it's because the world has changed, and there are new people who wield mana.’
Bola swung his arm again.
This time, a downward slash from above.
Osian quickly ducked to the side to avoid the blow.
The ground cracked with a thud as Bola's bear paw struck.
In the olden days, a man who could manipulate mana would have been accepted into a mage's apprenticeship because he had the qualities to become a mage.
But in this age, the number of mana manipulators has increased.
Gone are the days when manipulating mana meant the same thing as being a mage.
To be a wizard in this era, you had to have a deep knowledge and understanding of advanced magic, as well as great memorization and brains.
A talent for manifesting magic was a given.
What if you had access to mana, but didn't know how to use it?
That's what we now call a "mana user.”
Even without magic, the pure power of mana itself made them stronger than the average person.
Physical enhancement, increased strength, maximized reaction speed and agility, and other effects.
Osian realized that it was similar to the aura that the knights used.
Of course, it was a different power.
Aura was far more pure and destructive than this shell of a power.
"You're dodging like a loach!"
Bola swung his arm repeatedly at Osian, and Osian concentrated on dodging.
His grip, which could tear through steel, pressed against a wide space, making it difficult to get close.
The pressure of his massive bulk and fearsome bear-like appearance also played a part.
As Osian continued to back away from Bola's attacks, he found himself backed up against a wall.
"There's nowhere to run anymore!"
Bola swung his forepaws at Osian, exulting in the knowledge that he had finally cornered his prey.
"First, I'll cut off that one arm of yours that held my head!"
The blue mana-soaked forepaw was about to touch Osian's arm.
A flash!
Starlight descended on the ground.
A flash of powerful heat surged up, and an arm was severed, spinning in midair.
-Thud!
Kicking up a cloud of dust, it was Bola's left arm, covered in a thick coat of brown fur, that fell to the ground.
"Kaaaah!"
Bola's scream echoed across the clearing, echoing in all directions.
Red blood trickled down the severed section under his forearm.
"What the hell did you just do!"
Bola hadn't been surprised when he'd been thrown to the ground; he'd let his guard down but not when his left hand was blown off.
He had used his mutant ability, Beastification, and had energized both hands.
With this magic and his power as a Mutant, he was able to block even the magic of a 3-star mage.
However, the starlight emanating from Osian's sword was completely different.
"What is that power? How can it penetrate my magic without resistance?"
The Starlight Sword that Osian wielded sliced through a combination of Bola's magic, thick leather, bristling fur, tough muscles, and bones as hard as steel, without resistance.
"Kwaaah!"
Bola rolled his eyes and swung his right arm, which was still intact.
Osian watched, then swung his Starlight Sword just in time for the arm to reach him.
Boom!
A blur of white and pale blue flames sliced through the air.
Bola's right arm was sliced off, this time from the shoulder down, and he fell to the ground.
"Oh my god."
Croix, who had managed to pull the spear out, stared at the sight as she tended to the wound.
Against Bola, a monster that was both a mana user and a mutant, Osian was not only in advantage but was overwhelming him.
‘I'm supposed to fight that thing and capture it alive?’
Realizing how ridiculous her opponent was, Croix was grateful to be alive.
"Ouch!"
Bola, whose arms had been chopped off, stumbled backwards like a coward, unbefitting his massive size.
Osian walked slowly toward him.
His shuffling steps were defenseless, but the starlight glowing from the sword in his right hand was something else entirely.
Bola continued to stumble backwards, but this time, he ran into the opposite direction and slammed his back against the wall.
"Ugh!"
Bola shuddered in fear, her mouth gaping open just in time for Osian to close in on him.
A bluish glow of magic formed inside the bear's maw, filled with sharp teeth.
"Die!"
The shout was accompanied by an energized roar.
If hit at close range, it had the power to crush even an armored man on the spot but…
"It'll be nice to have your head on a stick."
The Starlight Sword sliced across Bola's throat, cutting the magic roar in half.
Bola's eyes glazed over and unclenched, and his head snapped off with a snarl and clattered to the floor.
The bear's headless body fell to the floor with a thud.
All that remained was the human body of Bola.
After disposing of Bola, Osian turned to leave, taking Orlea with him.
At that moment, Osian's instincts pierced and rang, setting off alarm bells.
-Wham!
A pure white cloak unfurled from his back and wrapped around him like a cocoon.
It was then that a light flashed from the rooftop of a nearby building.
-Swoosh!
With a brilliant flash, lightning struck from the dry sky.
A storm of electrical charge struck the nebula silk.
The lightning didn't strike not once.
Twice. Three times. Four times.
The lightning crisscrossing the atmosphere seemed unwilling to stop until it had completely destroyed the pure white egg.
Princess Orlea's eyes widened.
There were few people she could remember who could wield that much lightning magic.
"Oh, no. Princess, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?"
The last person Princess Orlea wanted to see stepped out of the alleyway.
Marquis de Debussy, tweaking his mustache at the wizard's side, grinned wickedly at her.
"It would be a national loss if you were to flee to such a filthy and dangerous place."
"Marquis de Debussy......."
Orlea called his name in a trembling voice.
Debussy no longer wore the mask of pretense around her.
"You should have left when I tried to let you go without pain. How many people around you have to die so you can live?"
"I, I......."
"If your miserable life gave you the chance to serve your country, you should have died with a smile on your face."
Scorn and mockery flashed in Marquis de Debussy's eyes as he glared at Princess Orlea.
"Didn't your nanny teach you to do that before she died?"
"......!"
Orlea's eyes widened.
Even though she was last in line to the throne and had no supporters around her, there was one person she trusted, her nanny, who had cared for her since childhood but her nanny was decapitated at the guillotine.
She was accused of attempting to poison princess Orlea she served.
It was a lie, of course. No nanny who cared about Orlea would do such a thing.
"What, you didn't know that already? Hahaha. Well, well, well. Well, at least you found out something good before you die. Consider it a gift."
Orlea bit her lip.
More than Marquis de Debussy's mockery, she felt miserable that she couldn't even get angry at his words.
If it weren't for her, would the nanny have survived?
It wasn't just the nanny.
Osian, who had taken up the sword to save her life, would not have died either.
Because of her.
Because she tried to stay alive for nothing.
"I, I should have died."
Tears rolled down both of Orlea's cheeks.
Seeing her completely broken, Debussy turned to the mage.
"What are you doing, why don't you finish her?"
The wizard continued to bombard Osian with lightning.
He was surprised to see him still using magic, as if he was playing with it.
"Hey. What are you doing?"
Marquis de Debussy finally realized that the mage's face was covered in cold sweat, as if his target wasn't still dead.
Rather, it was as if he was becoming impatient, as if his own magical powers were dwindling, albeit slowly.
What?
Marquis de Debussy's gaze fell on the pure white cocoon wrapped around Osian's body.
The lightning had stopped.
The wizard gasped, drew a blue potion from a pouch at his waist, and tried to drink it.
At that moment, the threads of the white cocoon unraveled, revealing Osian inside.
-Hmph.
It was broad daylight, but the poorly lit alleyway was bathed in white light.
Clad in a full body armor of white flames, it was a knight from a fairy tale, a knight of the stars who appears in a princess's hour of need and saves her.
A knight of the stars.
Beneath his helmet, which completely covered his face, Osian's eyes shone with a clear light.
[Starlight Armor]
FULL ARMOR.
"Are you the last one? No, I guess that's beside the point."
The inner glow of his helmet burned brightly.
"I'll finish you all."