Some of you probably guessed already from the narration at the end of the last chapter.
Currently, Liolikin is being utterly overwhelmed.
No matter how well he blocks his opponent’s attacks, he is forced into defense, unable to even attempt a counterattack.
No matter how you look at it, the idea of him defeating Nidhr seemed like a far-fetched dream.
‘Even if he fails to meet the objective, I did decide to give him another chance by coming up with various excuses…. But I’d really prefer if Liolikin could achieve the conditions given.
That way, his growth will accelerate, and having a decent tank on my side would drastically increase my odds of survival.
That’s all there is to it—it’s not like I’m getting attached to Liolikin or anything….
No, wait. Sure, Liolikin is a character from the original, but isn’t his situation different from Reysir and Vigdis?’
Reysir is the original protagonist, who becomes the core of ruin and killing after the graduation ceremony, while Vigdis is set to become part of the tragic “dies-for-unrequited-love” group that pines for him.
By contrast, Liolikin, in the original, was lumped in with the villain Karbaldr and died together with him.
And if he now hopes to become my ally instead of Reysir’s…
‘Then there’s no need to draw a hard line and keep him at a distance, is there? After Reysir’s withdrawal, if I don’t get involved with him, Liolikin won’t die because of the original protagonist either!
The very reason I decided to try using Liolikin as a tank was because of that.
But lately, since Liolikin has been sticking so close to Reysir for the tournament preparations, I unconsciously started categorizing him as one of those “original characters I should avoid.”
The two of them have grown rather close, so it’s still too early to let my guard down completely.
But I think I can at least lower my level of caution toward Liolikin by a notch.
‘Well… Regardless, I need to maintain the character of the vessel I’ve possessed, so I won’t actually change how I treat him.’
But it means a lot that my heart is more at ease now.
While my mindset as the first-person narrator, which shapes the tone of the story, was lightly floating up, Nidhr continued to push Liolikin unilaterally.
Anyone could see this was to Nidhr’s advantage. But suddenly, Nidhr jumped back, breaking the flow of the match.
I was perplexed by his abrupt retreat, and saw Nidhr’s lips move as he said something.
I couldn’t hear his voice, so I couldn’t know exactly what he said.
But roughly, it seemed like he was warning that he would attack in earnest from now on, so Liolikin should brace himself.
Why do I think so?
Because Nidhr started twirling his sword with flashy, showy moves in the air before charging Liolikin again, this time with much greater speed and unpredictability than before.
‘His actions suggest that until now, he was only testing Liolikin’s skills and going easy on him.’
But compared to Nidhr’s much swifter movements, Liolikin’s response was slow and clumsy.
Nidhr’s sword began striking at the spots beyond Liolikin’s shield more frequently.
For now, his blows only grazed or tapped the surface of [Armor of Protection], but it was only a matter of time before he found an opening.
Liolikin seemed to sense this as well. Did he judge that he had to achieve the objective quickly before losing?
He tried to force Nidhr back by charging with his shield, hoping to topple his opponent.
But his opponent was a finalist in the original story.
‘No way such a reckless attack would work!’
Nidhr, like a seasoned matador, dodged sideways with perfect timing.
Then, he swung his sword at Liolikin’s exposed flank through a gap in the [Armor of Protection].
Flustered, Liolikin twisted his body, but he couldn’t avoid the attack completely.
The blade brushed past his side, and red blood seeped out, staining his training uniform.
‘If this were a real-life sports match, it would’ve been stopped immediately…’
Is it because this is a fantasy novel’s tournament? Or is it because this world’s foundation is that of a grim “killing genre”?
Whatever the exact reason, no one stepped up to call for a halt.
Only the faint tension on the faces of the professors waiting below the stage, ready in case of an emergency, gave any sign.
Everyone else simply watched.
‘He’s… not going to forfeit?’
Reflexively, I hugged Yor tightly and scrutinized Liolikin’s face.
The determined expression he wore before going on stage was now troubled, steadily morphing into one of distress.
There was not a trace of composure left on his tightly clenched features.
It seemed unlikely he could calmly wait for an opportunity to achieve the objective.
Having fallen into panic, now there was no hope left.
‘Still, the fact that he’s hanging on, even after being wounded, is more than enough—he’s exceeded expectations.’
Should I be thinking of some words of comfort to offer Liolikin when he returns?
Just as that thought crossed my mind—
“U… uaaaahhh!!”
Suddenly, Liolikin let out a cry loud enough to reach even my ears.
It was closer to a roar than a battle shout.
“Kraaaah!!”
Who would have thought timid Liolikin could make such a sound?
That alone was surprising, but his sudden action did not stop there.
He abruptly dispelled the [Armor of Protection] that was enveloping his body, then concentrated the ivory-colored Aether that had formed it onto his mace and shield.
Then…
- Bang!
He swung his massive tower shield at his opponent.
Nidhr barely managed to raise his sword in time to block the attack, but he was knocked back several steps, reeling.
Then, Liolikin—acting nothing like his usual self—charged at Nidhr with unexpected agility for his size, swinging his mace; when that was blocked, he swung his shield again.
Not only was he roaring like a beast, but his fighting style was now outright aggressive.
That state was clearly…
“[Berserk]…?”
Reysir, lifting his eyepatch, stared at Liolikin on the stage.
No—he was looking at the skill window that appeared in his vision upon seeing Liolikin.
For my readers who haven’t read the original novel 《Nas-e》, let me explain: This [Berserk] skill is not an Aether Attribute ability.
‘It’s listed in the Awakener’s skill window, but strictly speaking, it’s not a skill, but rather a status abnormality!
It’s a rampage phenomenon sometimes triggered when highly impulsive and aggressive warriors get overly immersed in battle.
That’s [Berserk].
Once activated, just like berserkers in other fantasy novels, the person loses the ability to distinguish friend from foe and obsesses over attacking, ignoring defense.
‘But if it were just a matter of going crazy, it wouldn’t even show up in the skill window!
No, before that, it would have just been classified as a mental disorder, not even a “phenomenon.”
What sets it apart is that, while rampaging under [Berserk], most of the person’s defensive ability gets converted into offensive power as an “option.”
Here, “defensive ability” refers to both defense-related skills and stats.
The sudden cancellation of [Armor of Protection] and concentration of Aether into the shield and mace happened because of this.
‘But how did a defensively-oriented Liolikin end up with such a status abnormality skill?’
As Reysir lowered the eyepatch, covering his silver eyes, I turned my gaze back to the stage, lost in thought.
Could it be that the conditions I set and my expectation that he could achieve them pushed his timid mind to its absolute limit?
Thinking that, I felt a surge of guilt.
In this world’s setting, once [Berserk] manifests even once, from then on, if one’s mind wavers even slightly during battle, the skill can activate on its own.
I couldn’t help but regret it even more.
‘If a tank, whose role is to draw enemy aggro and soak up attacks, suddenly loses all defense and starts rampaging, it becomes incredibly dangerous. Not just for the tank, but for the whole team. And losing the ability to tell friend from foe is a huge issue, too…
Watching Liolikin go on a mad attack spree filled my heart with heaviness.
It felt like I’d ruined his potential by pushing him with such harsh conditions.
His rampage, complete with howling, looked less like a show of strength and more like the thrashing of someone driven by fear.
Meanwhile, Nidhr kept retreating, doing his best to respond.
But ultimately, he was overwhelmed by the berserker’s brute force and went crashing to the ground.
‘Objective… achieved.’
It was what I wanted, but I couldn’t feel pure joy.
Because Liolikin was now out of his senses, unable to feel joy for his own accomplishment.
Oblivious to the fact that he’d succeeded, he let out another roar, raising his shield high.
Was he about to smash Nidhr’s head with the shield’s corner?
Maybe only now did a sense of danger hit him.
Nidhr, at last, used his long-guarded Aether Attribute ability to make the ground surge up.
The stone wall that rose in an instant crumbled just as quickly when Liolikin’s shield slammed into it.
In that moment, Nidhr rolled aside, sprang up, and struck Liolikin’s temple with the pommel of his sword.
With [Berserk] in effect, Liolikin’s reduced defense left him collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Waaahhh!”
The audience shook the stadium with cheers, roaring their approval for Nidhr, who had defeated the ferocious berserker.
As the crowd swelled with excitement, my mood sank heavily.
Had the same result come about without Liolikin entering [Berserk], I might have been quite moved.
“Don’t worry too much. Liolikin will be fine.”
As I watched Liolikin being carried off the stage on a stretcher, Reysir offered comforting words.
Meeting the original protagonist’s gaze, I was suddenly swept with regret, wishing I’d listened and eased the conditions as he had suggested.
But I couldn’t let it show.
“…Who said I was worried?”
“If you’re bothered about Liolikin losing his senses and going berserk just now, you don’t need to be.”
Reysir ignored my protest, again reassuring me it’d be alright.
Wondering if he didn’t understand the dangers of [Berserk], I felt something boil up inside, my face twisting involuntarily.
“I guarantee it.”
The original protagonist met my eyes with a steady gaze, speaking with unshakable conviction.
Whether Reysir had drawn Liolikin into his inner circle or not was still ambiguous, but it was certain he’d marked him as my bodyguard.
It goes without saying: if someone loses their senses and can’t distinguish friend from foe, it’s impossible to use them as a bodyguard.
But to make such a promise so confidently…
‘There’s something going on, isn’t there…?’
I had no choice but to think so.
I recalled the setting in the original: the same skill could have extra options depending on the individual’s disposition, with different effects.
In that case, Reysir’s assurance might not be empty words.
He probably used the Truth-Reading Eye to read some phrase in Liolikin’s [Berserk] skill description that serves as a safety mechanism.
That would make sense. My worries dissipated, and my mind eased.
Perhaps sensing the change in me, Reysir grinned.
“I-it’s not like I’m reassured just because I trust your word. So don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Am I really misunderstanding?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“I swear to the sky, really??”
What an unnecessarily persistent, tenacious protagonist for someone else’s novel.
I glared at Reysir briefly before lowering my voice.
“…Weren’t we not going to tease each other in front of others?”
“Oh, right.”
“And what’s with that reaction? You brought it up first—don’t tell me you forgot?”
“Sorry, but I couldn’t help it. The way you said those tsundere lines, I just couldn’t resist teasing you.”
“What a ridiculous excuse…!”
We bickered in whispers, but didn’t keep it up for long.
Because Nidhr, who’d defeated Liolikin, was now walking toward us.