Raid: The Blacksmith-Chapter 73: Dawn: Part One

A nearly intoxicating warmness envelopes my whole body. Slowly but surely, the ability to flex my muscles is starting to return to me.

I’m regaining control of my body as the coldness from before begins to diminish.

"My injuries are..."

They’re being erased. I can feel my very flesh tense up and build up from where it once wasn’t.

"It’s not... it’s not regeneration. This... this is..."

I’ve never felt the affect of a healing Spell before. But this has to be it, right? The sensation of a foreign substance of sorts tempering with your body, but not in a bad way.

"No, not in a bad way at all. It actually... feels nice. Really nice."

I can feel Mana that doesn’t necessarily feel like my own wash all over me. The hole in my chest closes up and my arm grows back. I no longer feel cold anymore. My body is literally being defrosted in real time.

"It doesn’t feel like my Mana, but it still feels... oddly familiar. It feels somewhat similar to my Mana, yet also, somewhat different. Like it’s a derivative of it... That’s... weird."

Then I hear it. The beautiful sound of a woman’s voice. Only unlike the Mana, the woman’s voice isn’t familiar. Not one bit. I’ve never heard this voice before. I’m sure I’d be able to remember if I had.

"Please open your eyes, Master."

The words, the tone... it’s... calm, yet... pleading. It carries with it a sense of devotion, longing and care. All directed at yours truly.

"Master?" I echo internally.

My eyelids move almost instinctively. They can move now. The frozen blood that had them partly shut has dissipated. The damages to my clothes have also been dealt with. I’m as good as new.

I look towards where the voice came from. It’s not far. All I need to do is tilt my head slightly upwards and look ahead.

There she is.

"Yeah... I don’t know this person." I confirm.

Only but a metre infront of me, stands an intoxicating beauty. Her skin, pale to the point of looking almost translucent. No. She is translucent. You’d have to look closer to see it, but a thin dim white glow literally envelopes her whole form. And by whole form, I mean whole form, even her clothes. Her pure white hair, styled in a raised pony tail flutters weakly in response to even the tiniest blow of wind. Her eyes, those pure white eyes beneath her long white eyelashes, look paradoxically blind and omniscient at the same time. Her shape, tall, toned, built for athleticism and power, though somewhat paradoxically, very curved, an hourglass figure. Her dress, form-fitting around her chest and waist, showing off her curves before flowing out at the hips. She stands barefooted on the snow. Only, she isn’t standing. Another thing you’d have to look closely to notice, she’s actually hovering just a fraction of a millimetre above the surface. She moves less like a person and more like a low-hanging mist. Fluid, silent, and effortlessly poised.

Then there’s her clothes. If you can even call those clothes. Those thin layers of fabric that look almost see-through. Pure white in color. Her attire is a masterclass in modern etherealism. Eschewing the heavy, suffocating layers of traditional royalty, she wears a gown of hyper-light, semi-translucent silk that seemingly breathes with her. The fabric has a high-tech sheen, looking like a liquid white pearl under moonlight. It’s a minimalist royal design. A high, sleek collar that flows into a sleeveless, open-back bodice, granting her total range of motion. Instead of a cumbersome train, two body-length panels of gossamer fabric fall from her shoulders like architectural wings, trailing behind her only to vanish into vapor as she shifts. Beneath the shimmering white, her form is striking. The high-slit of her skirt allows for unrestrained strides. She wears no jewels, none that can seemingly be taken off. Rather, three diamond shaped gemstones seem embedded on her forehead placed in makeshift triangle-form.

But beyond all of that. What truly catches my eye more than all of that, is the weapon she holds in her hand. The weapon she points towards Wolf Spirit Amaruq. It gleams briefly as if responding to her whim, its clear surface reflecting her beauty with pin-point accuracy. My very first creation. My very first blade. She’s holding First Dawn. I’m beyond baffled. One, because I never materialized First Dawn even once since coming inside this Dungeon. Two, because even if I had, no one besides me would be able to wield the weapon without my permission.

"Just who the hell is this woman?" Is my first question. Though I don’t say it out loud. I’m still in a daze. Besides, she practically saved my life, and is currently the only thing standing between me and my death. My death being the Wolf Spirit Amaruq. Questions? Later. For now, let’s survive. And watch closely. Whatever this mysterious woman does next, may very well be what helps me in figuring out just who the hell she is. It’s a stretch, but it’s all I’ve got right now.

I sit up straight, and begin to watch closely, then as if almost on queue, the mysterious woman looks back at me. A genuine bright smile on her face, one that would make any man immediately fall for her from seeing it just once. Any man but me. "Are you okay?" She asks. The smile is still there, but now combined with an expression of genuine concern. She cares. She worries. It doesn’t take a Sherlock to figure that much out. Question is, why? I don’t even know you, lady.

I don’t say that though. I don’t say anything at all. Still trying to process just what the hell is going on, I can only nod weakly. In response, she chuckles slightly, the concerned expression diminishing, being replaced by genuine joy. She then turns back to look at my bully. The Wolf Spirit Amaruq. It then registers to me as she does.

"Why the hell has Amaruq not done anything this entire time? She’s just been standing there, as if wary of something. Is it her? Is she... somewhat afraid of this mysterious woman?" I wonder. "Could she be that strong? Then again, Amaruq was about to kill me, but this woman came out of nowhere with First Dawn in tow, somehow, and seemingly easily stopped her. She can’t be no normal person. Thing is... I can’t make heads or tails of who the fuck she could be. A Warrior? Can’t be, can it?"

As I’m lost in thought, the first one to move, wouldn’t you know it, isn’t Amaruq, but the mysterious woman. Her speed’s an unfunny joke. Seriously. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.

Amaruq, though barely, is able to dodge, but it’s easy to tell. Even though the fight has only just started, it’s easy to tell, who among the two, is stronger. And it’s none other than my mysterious protector. With First Dawn in tow, gripped firmly in her right hand, she launches slashes of an unquantifiable magnitude, waves form and slice through the air as they travel at alarming speeds, straight for Amaruq. The Queen of all Snow Dire Wolves dodges and evades the attacks as best as she can but some land. They slice through her fur, grazing her skin all over. Over and over and over again.

The cuts aren’t deep, but that’s intentional.

"This woman. Is she prolonging the fight on purpose? Is it to make Amaruq suffer? On my behalf?" Outlandish as the assumption might be, I struggle to figure out any other reason she’d do that, considering how much stronger than Amaruq she quite clearly is.

The fight continues. Amaruq moves at great speeds to launch the same attacks she bombarded me with before sending me to meet my maker with that cold beam. She speeds around the ruined trees, dashing about as she surrounds my protector. She launches a slash with her claws from one side, only to disappear completely and reappear to launch another slash from another side. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like there’s a great number of Amaruqs, attacking my protector all at once from all sides, but that isn’t the case in the slightest. There’s only one Amaruq. She’s just that fast.

Sadly, or rather, for me - fortunately, my protector is way faster. The attacks are easily parried and dealt with as her right hand moves around while she simply stands in one place. Sparks representing the clashes of the blade and Amaruq’s claws emerge around my protector, but oddly enough, they only serve to make her look even more awesome.

"If that isn’t aura farming. I don’t know what is."

Amaruq visibly gets pissed. Even though it’s relatively somewhat hard to tell a dog’s expression. It’s obvious, she isn’t liking how her opponent is treating this battle. She growls, and howls aggressively. Her canine bare as she begins running around my protector. And while she does that, trails of Mana form behind her, the Mana draws in and manifests snow. The snow then freezes, turning into ice. Then the ice changes form and turns into spikes. However, they’re bigger this time than when she fought me. Not only that, they’re greater in quantity.

They’re sent flying at great speeds, straight for my protector. But haven’t we already established? My protector is fast. Really fast. She moves at a speed I’m way too lazy to measure. It should be enough to know that no normal human should be able to move at such a speed, or even be able to see anything moving at such a speed. A sonic boom emits from her take off. Though in comparison to her speed, it seems almost delayed.

In an instant, she launches over a hundred slashes, so fast that from an outside perspective, they only look like one. A thousand, ten thousand, all the way to a hundred thousand of the spikes sent her way turn to shreds with a single swing of her hand. She doesn’t stop, slashing the spikes away as she chases after Amaruq. Amaruq runs, though unlike when she was running away from me, I can’t confidently say that she isn’t running because she’s afraid right now. As she runs, more spikes form from behind her, and they’re immediately sent my protector’s way. All in an attempt to slow her down, I take it.

Ironically, my protector starts moving even faster, her hand turning basically blurry even through my eyes as she continues slashing away the spikes. Amaruq then turns sideways, sensing that my protector has gotten way too close for comfort, no doubt, and then starts running around in circles. As she does, a hurricane made from snow develops around my protector, only this time, it’s a lot smaller, more concentrated. It’s obvious. Amaruq isn’t playing around anymore. She’s no longer fighting to dominate. No. She’s fighting to survive. And if that means she has to concentrate a great chunk to all her power on this one terrifying foe that came basically out of nowhere to do just that, to survive, then so be it. The hurricane fully forms, the strong gush of wind causing my protector to be lifted up, although, I’m sure with a little bit of resistance, she’d probably be able to prevent that from happening. So why doesn’t she?

"Hell if I know." But it’s obvious she’s preparing to do something magnificent herself. Within the hurricane, more spikes form, and they’re immediately sent flying towards my protector. In addition, Amaruq also braces herself as she opens her mouth wide.

"The cold beam from before."

Her very own brand of a "Special Attack". The spikes and the beam close in. And just as they’re all about half a metre away from connecting to my protector...

Silence.

"Hold on..."

Then she speaks. No, rather, she whispers. Quietly, though I can quite clearly hear her even from this distance.

"Sunset Slash."

"WHAT THE WHAT IN THE WHAT, WHAT, WHAT!?"