SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

'Weak!'

That single thought echoed in the mind of the one who held his shattered blade.

Even after cutting down over nine hundred beasts in a flash, he had not gotten his fill of violence.

'They're all too weak!'

He had been training for nearly six months, isolated in the mountains for that long.

After spending so long tempering his body, the man had expected some sort of experience to stimulate him—allowing him to test the limits of his ability.

When he sensed the Miasma approaching him from the valley, he had been excited.

'It's different from the one I felt back then, but...'

This destitute had definitely felt Miasma before.

Even though he had been much younger and inexperienced, the swordsman couldn't forget the sensation that permeated him back then.

Compared to the intensity of the Disturbance he experienced in the past, the wave of negative energy that tickled his skin was far greater.

That was probably why he had raised his expectations.

He halted his rest and dragged his sack containing all the blades he had gathered for his training.

All of them—but one—had all broken apart due to training.

Their durability was simply not good enough.

When he saw the horde, the swordsman had been ecstatic.

Finally, he would be able to test his strength against formidable foes.

Their bloodthirsty aura did not bother him in the slightest. Why would it?

All he needed to do was move his body and swing his blade. That was all he had been doing for so long that his mind and body were numb to almost any other feeling.

Yet...

>SWISH!<

... Even then...

>SWOOOOSH<

... After getting all worked up...

>WHOOOOSSHHHH<

... None of them stood a sliver of a chance.

At this point, the swordsman stood in silence, surrounded by piles of corpses.

His gaze was locked on the last opponent standing. It seemed to be a strong one—at least more formidable than the others he had eliminated.

And so, ignoring the carnage he had wrought, the swordsman dropped the last of his ruined blades and focused his attention on the final enemy.

The Demon was done drawing all four weapons in his possession—a longsword, a battle-axe, a scythe, and a broadsword.

Each weapon had its advantages, and if a master could utilize them in tandem, it was possible to cover the minimal weakness they possessed.

For defense, the Demon had a very tough hide, as well as an enchanted armor that blocked damage.

Unlike the Demon Beasts, the opponent he was facing was definitely very experienced in the art of battle.

Upon seeing that, the swordsman didn't realize when his lips parted to form a grin.

'Maybe this one... will be different...'

The mountains that took several strikes to break were no longer able to resist his blade.

After training in this place for so long, the swordsman realized that there was no longer anything that could stop his strike.

Everything in his path had been long conquered.

But, perhaps this opponent would be different from the others!

That was probably why he felt like going all out.

A Technique that made Martial Artists transcend the limits of their capabilities, granting them access to even greater power—albeit temporary.

For Magic Users who were parallel to this, they also had a similar state. It was referred to as Mage Mode.

However, complex principles concerning the manipulation of Mana to form spells were beyond the reach and interest of those who constantly tempered their bodies and honed their skills.

For Martial Artists, a form that exceeded their current condition also existed.

It was known as Martial State.

And the young man—though a hardened warrior—wanted to unleash this power on his newfound target.

"Martial Blade God Technique... Martial State!"

>BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!<

The mountains were not able to bear the explosive pressure, and instantly made way for the overwhelming power that was concentrated on a single human.

He could hear the opponent utter words, but the swordsman could not understand any of them.

He didn't understand the language of Demons, after all.

At this point, even if he did, nothing the monster said would matter to him.

All that the swordsman cared about was the fight to ensue.

A massive chunk of the energy that was dispersing swiftly gathered and formed a blade.

It was white as snow, yet it contained an unforgiving glint that could make any shiver at its sight.

It was a Mana Blade, but unlike any other.

Any Technique performed by a warrior while in Martial State was forcefully raised beyond its limits.

The same applied to the gleaning white blade.

"Huuu..." The swordman's rags tore to pieces, unable to bear the pressure.

Only his pants were protected from the blast, revealing his bare flesh and well-toned muscles.

The swordsman's auburn hair was now white, and his irises donned the same color.

"... Here I come."

Taking a proper stance befitting a warrior, the human prepared his strike, watching the Demon also prepare all four weapons to deal his own blow.

'The fastest one strikes first. The strongest one wins!'

The answer was that simple.

It was a risky venture, but he had not come this far to consider safety at this point. While he hadn't been expecting a Demon assault, the young swordsman was certainly thankful to the heavens for it.

After all, he would be able to test all 12 Ultimate Blade Forms of his newly attained state.

'But first... shall we test the waters?' Smiling, the swordsman controlled his muscles and took a step forward, ready to launch himself.

"... Now!"

>BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!<

The environment ruptured as soon as he dashed in the direction of his foe.

Ignoring the stinging sensation of the air, the chilly breeze of the environment, and the multitudes of emotions that assailed him, the swordsman only had one goal.

One strike!

And so, he went for it!

Raising his blade and swinging it to strike, the swordsman watched his opponent steady all four weapons of his in defense.

'He's going to block my assault? Very well!'

While the swordsman wasn't aware of how durable his opponent was, he assumed that the Demon would at least be able to tank one hit.

He had all four weapons to protect him alongside the armor and thick hide. Certainly, this Demon would prove more sturdy than the devastated mountains around him.

The swordsman smiled, deciding to pour his strength into the attack.

Without using any of his Twelve Ultimate Arts, he went with the flow and sharply swing his blade.

Swift and precise, the attack was initiated.

And then—

"Eeeeekkkkk!!!"

—an eruption followed.

>BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!<