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HELHEIM SCANS
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Chapter 14: This Is Way Too Overwhelming.
Mana surged along the snow-white divine sword, scattering starlight across the void.
A dazzling yet ferocious flow.
The holy light, forged and imbued into the holy sword to eradicate demons, glimmered brilliantly.
[The goddess smiles radiantly at the sight of the hero she hasn’t seen in a long time.]
Replica.
A mere imitation of a holy sword that only existed in this game.
Still, its durability was high enough to withstand my mana, and the radiant glow it emitted made it feel fairly convincing.
It had been a while since I last drew a holy sword, and seeing it again brought a sense of nostalgia.
Coupled with the familiar monster before me, I found myself a little more excited than I’d expected.
—Grrrr.
Personally, trolls were monsters I once held some fondness for.
Not for their hideous appearance.
After all, who in their right mind would be fond of their green skin, identical to goblins and orcs, marred with knobby warts and pustules?
And the especially dimwitted ones that sometimes roamed around with their lower halves completely exposed…
Even with my half-dead sense of aesthetics, their grotesque appearance was truly repulsive.
Clang.
But if there was one thing admirable about these wretched creatures, it was their tenacity and endurance.
Even after taking numerous hits, they would stubbornly cling to life and keep charging in.
‘Perfect for a warm-up.’
Yes, that indomitable resilience was what I appreciated.
So, hold out for as long as you can.
“May the blessings of the gods be with me.”
As I watched the brute charging at me with a wild look in its eyes, gripping its club, I tightened my hold on the sword.
* * *
Magic users traditionally fought with minimal movement, annihilating the battlefield with a single spell.
Swordsmen, on the other hand, relied on superior agility, securing tactical victories through swift and decisive maneuvers.
Before mages could dominate the field, swordsmen preemptively neutralized key threats.
It was for this reason that the founder of the prestigious Alavad family of mages once mused:
If mages are vulnerable to close combat, if they are defenseless against sudden intrusions that breach their shields, why not create our own warriors to prevent such weaknesses?
Thus, the Alavad family, known for animating and commanding enchanted constructs, was born.
The Puppets of Alavad.
Over generations, the Alavad mages perfected their craft, manipulating these magically infused constructs to simulate warriors, merging offense and defense into a single force.
A mage who could simultaneously fight as a warrior.
Such a combination could single-handedly claim tactical and strategic victories.
By infusing magic into metal ingots and shaping them into constructs, the Alavad family mastered the art of forging puppets that could mimic any role.
Warriors, shield-bearers, mages, attendants—
Even transportation units, such as carriages.
Among the descendants of Alavad was Sephine Alavad, hailed as a prodigy.
At just shy of twenty, she held a quiet confidence.
With a bit more time, she believed she could effortlessly command everything with ease—without the desperate struggle of her peers.
Though she had no ambitions of becoming some grand mastermind, she dreamed of mastering her craft.
If she could reach a state of complete understanding, her puppets would become flawless warriors, unrivaled by her contemporaries.
And so, despite being a mage who often secluded herself out of boredom, she was not without pride.
Her innate talent and ability to replicate combat techniques allowed her to control constructs that fought like seasoned warriors.
She could wield a sword better than most students—even without formal training.
Slash—
She had been confident in that.
But now, the troll's massive wooden club split in two and spun through the air.
In an instant, the troll's arm was severed.
‘Huh?’
In the middle of gathering mana at the tip of her staff for a fireball, Sephine’s eyes widened.
She had only just registered the hero’s movements—when the scene changed.
The club that had seemed moments away from crushing the hero’s head was reduced to splinters in a flash.
And the troll's massive arm, once swinging with brutal force, was now nothing more than a dismembered chunk of meat.
Had she missed something?
…No, that wasn’t it.
Her keen eyes, refined by years of magical study, instinctively recognized the truth.
This wasn’t the kind of movement that could be dismissed as mere luck or skill.
Nor was it something she could compare to ordinary students or swordsmen.
She didn’t know what technique it was, but the primal fear carved into her mage’s soul screamed in warning.
There was a monster standing right in front of her.
“Graaaagh—!”
The troll, its stump of an arm seared by the heat of the blade, howled in pain.
It swung its remaining arm wildly, but the hero stepped in closer instead.
Like a mirage, he slipped through the troll’s attack radius.
The blow didn’t land.
The tip of his sword dipped briefly, and by the time it rose again, the troll’s Achilles tendon was severed.
The creature staggered, dropping to its knees.
Thud.
At the same time, the troll's recently swung fist shattered into pieces, disintegrating upon impact with the ground.
Even the monster seemed startled by the phenomenon.
Its eyes widened in terror, and its massive frame trembled violently.
It flailed its remaining limb and tried to scramble backward.
—Huff… Grrr… Grrraaaagh…!
The monster fled.
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HELHEIM SCANS
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As Sephine absentmindedly watched, she suddenly realized the fireball at the tip of her staff had fully charged, glowing brilliantly.
Ah.
Had it only been ten seconds?
She aimed her staff at the troll's retreating back, but then lowered it with a faint shake of her head.
The hero, who had been standing motionless, seemingly waiting for her to deliver the final blow, gave her a puzzled look.
Yet, despite the man she admired watching her, Sephine simply stood there in a daze, repeatedly replaying the recent scene in her mind.
‘…Ah.’
The image of his radiant movements, painting the battlefield with the splendor of a galaxy, lingered vividly before her eyes.
* * *
"……Ugh."
After the magic game experience lecture ended, I had a bit of an epiphany.
It was such an unexpected realization that it left my head feeling foggy.
Even though some time had passed since the lecture ended, I still couldn’t leave my seat, simply blinking in place.
"Hey, Goddess."
[The goddess asks why you’re calling her.]
"Do you think the girls here would find it a bit much if I were a bit too aggressive when hunting monsters or demons?"
[The goddess, baffled by the difficult question, ponders how to respond.]
Honestly, there wasn’t really such a thing as being aggressive when hunting monsters.
As long as you killed them efficiently, that was all that mattered.
Even if there were some kind of standard, I had simply burned them with mana, leaving no blood behind, and precisely cut through only the necessary parts with optimal accuracy.
My sword had done nothing wrong!
I wanted to insist on my innocence, but...
Still, the reason I was now contemplating whether my hunting style was too violent—something I’d never considered in the other world—was because the friend who had seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere suddenly ran away the moment class ended.
Sephine Alavad.
My golden goblin friend bolted.
‘Wait, why?’
Weren’t we friends?
Sure, maybe she was just hungry, and it happened to be lunchtime, or maybe she suddenly needed the bathroom, or her schedule was tight.
There could’ve been unavoidable reasons.
But somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that her once-friendly gaze had subtly changed at the last moment.
She seemed hesitant to meet my eyes, quickly making her escape.
…Which could only mean that something about the final part of the hunt had been off.
Since the atmosphere had been fine until then, I could only conclude that.
‘Was my swordsmanship too sloppy?’
I wanted to believe that wasn’t the case.
If it was, it would be even more shocking than her running away because I was too violent.
The thought that she had been disappointed by my lackluster swordsmanship was far worse.
Still, I figured it was more likely that something about my battle against the troll had bothered her.
[The goddess says there’s no way that’s the case.]
‘What do you know, Goddess?’
[……?]
"Haa."
Since it was impossible to know the answer without asking her directly, I didn’t dwell on it further and got up from my seat.
Though I was left feeling a little dejected, the class hadn’t been entirely fruitless.
[Magic Research Department – Maho]
[Hunter Support Major – Emir]
Although my golden goblin friend hadn’t left her contact info, my previously empty phonebook now had two new entries.
<Jackpot!>
<Treasure Acquired!>
I also received a modest prize.
After defeating the troll, I found the Elixir of Truth in the treasure chest.
There were two bottles—one for me and one for the goblin.
Even though it was a game, and I hadn’t thought much of it, the professor presented it as a reward, claiming it was a special prize he had prepared for the top player.
[Elixir of Truth]
[Reveals the target’s true form.]
The small glass vial fit snugly in my hand, the crimson-tinged liquid inside sloshing gently.
Even though I couldn’t use magic myself, my body was thoroughly seasoned from fighting demons and gauging their level.
"Hey, Goddess. This seems like a pretty good item, right?"
[The goddess scowls and says she knows nothing.]
The goddess might have been sulking, but I knew.
This was an extremely valuable item—worth enough to sell for a hefty price.
So powerful, in fact, that even if I drank it myself, I would still be partially affected by its magic.
‘It probably won’t last for too long, though.’
Seeing it recreated so realistically made me realize that the person who designed it was far more skilled than I had expected.
"Nice, I got a good one."
* * *
The moment Sephine Alavad entered her room in the academy’s special autonomous district, she clutched her pounding chest and gasped for air.
…Huff, huff, haa.
Her face was as red as an apple, stripped of its usual color.
She was clearly not her usual self.
Neither as the cold, steel-hearted mage nor as the composed woman she usually was.
Plainly, she was far too excited.
As she clutched her burning cheeks, she recalled the scene from moments ago.
As a mage who prided herself on manipulating the iron will of battle constructs, and as a woman—
The hero's movements had been so breathtakingly beautiful that they sent shivers down her spine.
"……Ugh, it’s too overstimulating."
At this rate, her heart was in real danger.
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HELHEIM SCANS
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