Reincarnation of the magicless Pinoy!
From zero to hero! " No magic?, No Problem!"
Encounter 24: An Anomaly!
As the last beast crumpled to the ground, a howl echoed through the trees—low, distorted, and nothing like the ones they'd heard from the creatures they'd just killed. This one was different. Sinister. Then—thud—something heavy landed in front of them… and another behind the caravan.
"So, you took a liking to me, huh?" Rolien muttered, tightening his grip on the blade as his eyes locked with the new threat.
A chill ran through the air—not from the wind, but from the pressure radiating off the two new arrivals. They looked like wolves, but wrong. Twisted. Their limbs were longer than they should've been, their fur pitch black with streaks of deep crimson like veins crawling across their bodies. Eyes—six each—glowed in clusters on their heads, all trained on Rolien.
The one in front stood tall, almost his height, its posture more upright than a normal beast. It wore fragments of obsidian armor around its shoulders and back, as if someone had once tried to domesticate it for war… and failed.
The one behind the caravan snarled low, baring fangs that shimmered faintly with mana. A vapor-like mist leaked from its mouth—corrosive mana. The kind that melted bone, not just flesh.
Rolien didn't flinch.
"You two new around here?" he asked casually, rotating his wrist to loosen his shoulder. "Or just waiting for your turn?"
The front one darted forward in a blur.
Rolien barely moved.
CLANG!
His blade met the creature's claw mid-swipe. Sparks flew. The ground cracked under the pressure. The beast's weight bore down, but Rolien held firm.
"Fast," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "And you're not just muscle, huh?"
From behind, the second wolf sprang—silent and swift, jaws open for a killing bite.
Rolien twisted.
Using the force of the first clash, he spun, dragging the first beast with him just enough to throw off the second's angle. The lunging wolf barely missed as Rolien ducked low, dragging his sword in a wide arc—slashing its leg.
SKRRK! Blood sprayed—dark and thick, sizzling the earth where it landed.
Rolien backed off with a quick hop, his boots skidding slightly on the dirt. He stared them down now, both beasts circling him like predators that realized their prey bit back.
"Okay," he said, cracking his neck. "Let's see what makes you two special."
The one with the obsidian plating roared—and its body shifted. More blades of bone pushed out of its back. The other mirrored the motion, its claws elongating into scythe-like weapons.
Assassin-class mana beasts. But these weren't just mutated monsters. They were engineered.
Rolien exhaled slowly. "Who the hell's sending these things after me?"
He brought his sword to his side, letting it hum faintly with mana.
Then—he charged first.
The obsidian-plated wolf slammed its claws against Rolien's blade again—then twisted its hips, slamming its weight like a battering ram.
Rolien's stance broke.
He was flung backward like a ragdoll, smashing through a tree and skidding through the dirt. His ribs flared with pain as he coughed blood, blinking hard to stay conscious.
"Damn… it…"
The second beast lunged.
But before it could reach—
BOOM!
A red barrier erupted in front of Rolien.
The chimera crashed into it and was knocked back by the backlash.
Luke stepped forward, palm glowing. "Stay the hell down!"
He fired a fireball—small, precise.
It exploded against the beast's hide—but the monster barely flinched. It stepped through the flame, its fur burning off to reveal hardened scales.
Luke's eyes widened. "Oh, come on…"
The creature had adapted—again.
The second wolf shot past him, making straight for the caravan.
"Tessa!"
She turned—swords ready.
Braggs rushed to her side, shield raised. "On me!"
Ren zipped in from the flank, blades flashing. "Keep your feet moving!"
Solis appeared behind them, her cloak fluttering, hands glowing with light. "I'll bind it—five seconds!"
The wolf roared and lunged.
Braggs met it head-on with his greatshield, digging in.
CRACK! The impact cracked the ground beneath him.
Ren danced around its side, slicing at the tendons in its legs.
Solis shouted—
"Gravity Lock!"
An array lit beneath the wolf's paws. The beast froze, trembling.
Tessa struck—twin blades lashing into its side.
It shrieked.
But the moment passed too quickly.
The wolf's body pulsed.
SNAP!
It broke the seal and lashed out—hurling Braggs aside and nearly catching Ren with its tail.
Lord Ferran raised his hand and summoned golden chains from the air.
The wolf froze mid-motion—bound by pure holy light.
Ferran's voice was tight. "Now. End it."
The group closed in—
—but the chains snapped.
Not broke. Shattered.
Ferran's eyes widened. "What—?"
The wolf lashed out and slammed Ferran through a tree.
Then it turned to finish the job.
Everyone froze.
Then—
A pulse.
Rolien's eyes glowed faintly.
He rose to his feet, slowly.
> [Spirit Body Enhancement: Lv.2 – Activated]
[Quick Slash: Lv.2 – Ready]
[Dash: Lv.1 – Ready]
[Taunting Cry: Lv.1 – Unlocked]
[Phantom Edge: Lv.1 – Charging...]
He exhaled, and steam curled off his skin.
Then he shouted—not in fear, but in defiance.
"OVER HERE!!"
His voice cracked the air like a warhorn.
The wolves turned. Both of them.
Even Braggs looked confused. "What… did he just do?"
The beasts snarled and shifted toward Rolien.
He welcomed it.
> [Dash: Lv.1 – Activated]
He vanished.
Then reappeared—blade already slashing.
Quick Slash.
Three strikes. Wrist. Neck. Shoulder.
The wolf roared in pain—real pain.
Ren blinked. "Did… did that hurt it?"
The second chimera leapt in from behind.
Rolien twisted, eyes sharp. He brought his blade up like a hammer.
Hammer Strike.
The impact cracked the wolf's jaw and sent it flying.
Braggs lowered his shield, stunned. "Since when could he hit like that?"
Tessa stared, eyes narrowed. "He's moving faster than before. Way faster."
Solis was already scanning him with her mana senses.
"…There's… something wrong with him," she whispered. "His body's not normal. His mana—no, it's not mana. It's something else."
But no one could explain it.
Rolien kept moving—faster than they could follow.
The wolves tried flanking again.
He vanished again.
Then—slash.
Phantom Edge.
The beast dropped out of the air, a deep gash across its back. Rolien didn't even seem to move.
Tessa landed near him, panting. "How… are you doing this?"
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
The system kept feeding him instructions. Moves. Cooldowns. Threat levels.
> [Target: Ironhide Alpha]
[Weakness: Spiritual Energy. Type: Bio-Chimera. Immunity: Fire, Steel.]
[Suggested Tactic: Sustain pressure. Force adaptation lag.]
"Come on, then," Rolien muttered, stepping forward again.
The beasts growled—but hesitated.
They felt it.
The shift.
This wasn't the same boy they tossed aside.
> [Skill Ready: Taunting Cry Lv.1]
[Quick Slash Lv.2 – Ready]
[Spirit Body Enhancement – 67% Capacity]
Braggs gripped his shield tighter. "This doesn't make sense. Is he… awakened?"
"No," Solis said quietly. "He's something else."
Ren grinned. "Whatever he is, I wanna see what happens next."
The wolves roared.
Rolien charged.
And for the first time in the entire fight—
they backed away.
The second chimera didn't charge like the first.
It watched.
Stalking.
Like a hunter.
Its obsidian-furred body crouched low, its glowing crimson eyes fixed on the nobility—Lord Ferran Caldran, Lady Therese, and Duke Armath with his two personal knights.
A strange, guttural growl rumbled from its throat. Like it was laughing.
"Why's it just standing there?" Therese whispered, her rapier trembling slightly in her grip.
Armath narrowed his eyes. "It's thinking."
The beast moved.
Not lunging—but vanishing.
BOOM!
It appeared behind them—one of Armath's knights screamed as claws pierced through plate armor like paper. Blood sprayed.
The knight crumpled before he could even react.
"FORMATION!" Ferran bellowed, golden chains forming in his hands again. "Focus it! Don't let it isolate us!"
The remaining knight raised his halberd and blocked the incoming swipe.
CLANG!
He held for two seconds—then the blade snapped in half.
The beast swiped low—cutting clean through his thigh.
He screamed.
Armath threw a knife into the creature's eye.
It bounced off harmlessly.
The beast turned to him—grinning, jaws parting with drool and black smoke leaking out.
BAM!
Therese stabbed it in the side—light magic lacing her rapier.
It actually flinched.
"Strike the joints! It has gaps in its plate there!" she yelled.
Armath and Ferran moved in. Coordinated. Clean.
Ferran slammed his staff down—"HOLY BIND!"
Chains of light erupted around the beast's ankles.
Armath circled and struck low, aiming for the gut. Piercing Crescent, a wind-based blade art.
The attack connected—shaving off a chunk of flesh.
The beast howled.
But instead of retreating—it exploded.
Black energy burst outward in a pulse.
Therese was thrown twenty feet, slamming into a tree trunk.
"GAHH!"
Ferran shielded himself with a golden dome, coughing blood.
Armath staggered, his left shoulder dislocated and armor cracked.
The beast now stood taller—its muscles throbbing, back plates flaring open like wings.
"Gods…" Ferran muttered. "It's evolving—again?!"
It moved faster now.
Flash-step.
It was in front of Armath.
He barely raised his sword in time—BOOM!
A punch—not a claw—struck his blade, bending the steel inward. Armath crashed to the ground, groaning.
"Get up, damn you!" Therese coughed, pulling herself up, bleeding from her forehead.
The beast didn't wait.
It raised a claw—aiming for Armath's exposed chest.
Then—
CRASH!
A wall of ice erupted from the side, blocking the strike.
Solis arrived, hand raised, eyes glowing. "Reinforcements."
Ren came next, skidding down a slope. "Tessa sent us to cover the nobles."
"Beast Two's almost dead. Rolien and Luke are finishing it."
"About time," Armath grunted, staggering upright.
But the chimera turned to face the newcomers—snarling.
It knew they were stronger than the others.
"Spread," Ren said, daggers out. "Let's dance, ugly."
The beast launched itself at them—speed doubling again.
Ren ducked and slashed upward—grazing its chest.
It countered instantly—tail whipping behind and nearly caving in Solis's ribs. She blocked with a burst of wind magic, barely staying standing.
Therese joined them, bloodied but moving. "If we don't end this soon, it's going to kill us all."
"I agree," Solis whispered. "Let's chain it."
> Back to Rolien's group...
The chimera's roar shook the clearing.
Then—a gust of air.
Rolien blurred into motion.
The beast twitched—then stumbled, one leg nearly severed at the joint. A clean diagonal cut traced across its flank, bone-deep.
"What the hell—?" Solis muttered, eyes wide.
Braggs's jaw clenched. "He didn't use a skill… no chant… nothing."
Tessa narrowed her eyes. "He's moving too fast for someone with no mana flare… What is that footwork?"
The chimera lashed out wildly, but Rolien was already gone. A half-step pivot, and his blade flashed again—three strikes in the space of a breath.
Slide. Cut. Reposition. Draw. Flick.
Every movement was fluid. Tight. Calculated. Not the usual flashy swings of adventurers high on adrenaline and brute strength—but practiced technique. Controlled efficiency.
It didn't look like a swordsman trained in this world.
It looked like someone who had survived countless real fights.
Luke arrived at the edge of the clearing just in time to see a clean parry redirect the beast's bite, followed by a counter up the side of its exposed neck.
His breath caught.
That stance.
The angle.
The rotation of the shoulders…
"…I've seen that before," Luke murmured under his breath, heart beating faster.
He didn't know when, or where, or how—but it felt familiar. Not in the way a local technique felt. No… this was different. Nostalgic. Ancient—but not of this world.
He kept his expression blank, but his eyes followed every movement like a man trying to remember a dream.
Rolien was already stepping into another strike, weight shifting perfectly between his heels—something even elite sword schools here didn't teach.
Earth-style swordsmanship.
But Luke said nothing.
Not yet.
Crackling mana flickered across the arcane projection. The chimera, their engineered assassin, was losing—bleeding from too many clean, surgical wounds.
"He's not registered anywhere," one cloaked figure muttered.
"Not a noble, not a named adventurer. No guild record."
"Then where the hell did he learn that?"
The commander leaned forward. "He's not using our mana system. That movement… that control… he's cutting through flesh like he knows exactly where to aim."
Another strategist whispered, "But that beast has mana armor under the hide…"
"And he's bypassing it."
"Is it some kind of hidden relic weapon?"
"No…" the commander said, eyes narrowed. "It's him. The boy."
A quiet chill passed through the room.
"This changes things," one muttered. "That noble must not reach the Empire."
"And now we've got a variable we didn't account for."
They all turned toward the flickering image of Rolien—standing calmly as the beast crumpled behind him, sword slick with blood, expression unreadable.
"Whoever that boy is…" the commander said slowly, "…he's not just another swordhand."
---
Rolien exhaled and flicked the blood from his blade. The chimera twitched once—then stopped moving.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Solis broke the silence. "What kind of swordplay was that?"
Braggs scratched his head. "I've seen Royal Knights fight. It wasn't like that."
Tessa glanced at Luke. "Any idea?"
Luke shrugged slowly, carefully masking his expression.
"…Maybe," he said. "But I'd be lying if I said I understood it."
He looked at Rolien's back, narrowing his eyes.
I know that style. I just don't know why.
The second chimera was different.
Taller. Heavier. Its body glistened with overlapping scales rather than fur, its forearms covered in blade-like bone ridges. It moved like a beast, but fought like something smarter. Something… trained.
And right now—it was locked in battle with the noble.
Lord Caldran grimaced as his longsword met claw for the third time. Sparks burst. His footing slid back through the dirt, boots dragging small trenches behind him.
SLASH!
A backhand from the creature nearly clipped his shoulder. Caldran ducked low and rolled, coming up with a flame-lined thrust that struck true—straight into its side.
The impact? Useless.
The blade skidded off the beast's mana-woven hide. The flames barely scorched its armor.
The noble cursed under his breath, twisting away from the retaliatory bite just in time. A chunk of his cape got shredded, the edge disintegrating from contact with the creature's breath.
"Damn it… What kind of abomination…?"
His strikes were well-trained, disciplined, even magically reinforced. But it wasn't enough.
The creature lunged again, faster this time. One claw caught the edge of his shoulder plate and ripped it clean off with a screech of metal.
CLANG!
He skidded back several meters, coughing once, lips bloodied. The impact bruised a rib.
Still—he stood.
"Not… yet," he growled, drawing a dagger from his belt and channeling more fire through it. "You're not stopping me here."
The chimera hissed, jaws opening as vaporous mist poured from its throat—a suffocating, acidic fog meant to melt armor and lungs alike.
The noble clenched his jaw and erected a flaming barrier. The wall of fire bought him a few seconds. But just that—seconds.
---
Back at the First Battle Site...
Screams and howls faded.
The first beast was dead—its body twitching in its final moments. Rolien had landed the final blow, but it was a group effort. Luke had scorched its legs to slow it. Tessa's support magic kept their team mobile. Solis and Braggs had kept pressure on its blind spots.
They regrouped—panting, bruised.
Then they heard it.
A thunderous crash.
Followed by a fiery explosion—and a second crash.
Tessa's face paled. "The noble—!"
They turned toward the source.
"I'll go," Rolien said flatly.
Luke stepped forward. "We all will."
"No," Rolien said. His eyes narrowed. "I'll catch up first. That thing… feels worse than the last."
Without waiting, he moved—using Dash, the skill humming under his breath. His figure blurred across the ground like a bullet fired through fog.
Luke watched him go.
"…He's not just fast," he muttered. "He's using something else."
Tessa shot him a glance. "Like what?"
"…I don't know."
He lied.
He did know.
That movement. That momentum control. He'd seen it once—long ago, back when he was someone else.
Lord Caldran dropped to one knee, sword trembling in his grip. His mana was nearly gone. The chimera had adapted. Dodged smarter. Hit harder. The acid mist was eating through his gloves.
He knew it.
He wouldn't last another direct hit.
But the creature didn't strike yet.
It stood just meters away, watching. Almost… smugly. As if enjoying the slow breakdown of a once-proud warrior.
Then—
"HRAAAAAHH!"
A streak of silver and motion slammed into its side like a hammer.
BOOM!
Rolien's sword glowed faintly. The impact threw the beast several feet to the left—enough to break its stance.
The noble coughed, startled. "You—?"
Rolien didn't respond.
He stepped forward calmly, blade in one hand, eyes locked on the monster.
Behind him, the air shimmered.
Faintly—just faintly—spirit energy pulsed from his sword arm, invisible to the others but felt. Not mana. Not aura. Something deeper. Ancient.
He flexed his fingers once.
And charged.
The second chimera was larger, faster—more brutal than the last. Covered in a hybrid of obsidian-scale plates and shifting mana fur, it snarled like a machine possessed. Its claws left deep gouges in the earth as it lunged forward, eyes blood-red with purpose.
It was made to kill nobles. Made to end dynasties.
But it hadn't accounted for him.
Rolien moved.
Quick Slash – Level 2.
In a blur, he appeared by the beast's flank, sword carving a deep arc into its hind leg. A phantom trail followed his strike. Then he disappeared again.
Dash. Phantom Edge.
To the beast, he was a blur of flickers and pain. Every time it turned to face him, he was somewhere else—cutting tendon, breaking posture, unraveling its structure.
Lord Caldran staggered back, watching with a pale face. His guards—those still breathing—couldn't even track the boy's movements.
"What… what is that fighting style?"
Braggs swore under his breath. "That's not swordsmanship. That's—something else."
Solis narrowed his eyes, trying to follow, but his gaze kept falling behind. "It's almost… too clean. Like he knows exactly where to cut before he even moves."
And then—Rolien shifted.
He planted his foot differently. Held the blade slightly angled. His body relaxed, then coiled with precision.
No one in the Empire taught swordplay like this.
No knight, no academy, no mercenary school.
He stepped in—and struck.
A single clean slash. No wasted movement. No extra swing. The blade curved upward, cleaving through muscle and joint in one controlled motion. Not raw strength—efficiency.
The chimera screeched as its leg gave out, its regeneration failing to keep up. It slammed into the ground, gurgling, blood soaking into the soil.
The party was stunned.
Even the most seasoned warriors among them—Braggs, Solis, Ren, even Tessa—stood frozen.
Only one among them didn't speak.
Luke.
He watched silently, eyes fixed on Rolien's stance. Something ticked behind his gaze.
That technique.
That form.
It stirred something in the back of his mind, as if he'd seen it before—long ago, in a place far removed from swords and monsters.
He didn't understand why it looked familiar.
But it did.
He said nothing.
Not a word to the others.
He just kept watching.
As Rolien finished the beast, bloodied but standing firm, Luke's thoughts turned quiet, guarded.
Just who taught you that style...?
As the battlefield quieted and the last echo of violence faded, a heavy silence settled over the group.
Rolien stood in the middle of it all—still, calm, sword dripping with thick black blood. All eyes were on him.
Without a word, he turned slightly, lifted the blade, and brushed the flat of it along his forearm—slow and precise. The beast's blood smeared off in one clean motion, leaving the steel gleaming once more.
He gave the blade a slight tilt to check its edge, then slid it back into its sheath with a quiet, final shhk.
No flair. No comment. Just a cold, practiced gesture that said more than any speech could.
Luke narrowed his eyes, watching that movement carefully. That technique… it shouldn't exist here. It was too clean. Too deliberate. Too familiar.
But he said nothing.
Behind them, the noble stared, half-stunned, half in awe.
And Rolien? He just kept walking—like this was nothing more than routine.
To be continued.....