Chapter 22: The Past of Rex. 2
Nov 26
"So, you're a wizard, huh?"
A voice slid into the clearing like a knife.
Rex, fresh off dropping another bandit, turned urned, casually dusting off his knuckles.
"Hm? Who's asking?"
"Me." A man stepped out from between the trees.
He was 175 cm, tall and lean, built with the wiry tension of someone who'd survived far too many gutter fights and somehow turned that into a personality trait.
He wasn't bulky like the other bandits, no swollen muscles, no brute physique, but the sharpness in his posture made him look even more dangerous, like every inch of him was coiled to strike.
His long, light-brown hair was tied into an enormous rope-like ponytail… except it fractured halfway down, splitting into several twisted, uneven branches.
The locks curled at chaotic angles as if his hair had declared war on gravity and was winning through sheer insanity.
The outfit didn't help: a navy short-sleeved high-collar shirt, white shorts, and battered white arm warmers clinging to his forearms like they had abandonment issues.
Part fighter. Part wanderer.
Part complete disaster.
But undeniably memorable.
"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" Rex asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm the one who's going to crush you," the man declared confidently. "Name's Vail Cross."
"You?" Rex snorted. "Crush me? Don't make me laugh."
But as he glanced around, his eyes narrowed.
'They've boxed me in. Took down three already… so counting this clown, four left.'
Rex wasn't stupid. Cocky sometimes, sure but never stupid.
"You're surrounded," Vail said, eyes dripping with arrogance as he looked down at Rex. "Just give up."
And that, that, was something Rex hated most.
'I barely remember my early life… but I remember enough.'
'My parents were murderers. And when I was five, they ditched me like trash.'
'I remember wandering the streets—starving, filthy, barely a person. Everyone looked at me like I was something they should scrape off their boots.'
'They looked down on me. Calling me the son of killers.'
"What guild are you from?" Vail asked casually. "Or maybe… a dark guild brat?"
Rex's voice sharpened. "All of you people are the same. Nothing but trash wearing human skin."
He clenched his fists. "Am I supposed to carry their crimes because that's what everyone wants?!"
The air trembled.
A bright green aura erupted around Rex, swirling violently as the earth trembled beneath his feet.
"It's not fair," he growled. "I can't stand it. It pisses me off!"
'All I want… is to make them understand.'
Rex's eyes lifted, burning with wild determination. "I fight for underdogs everywhere."
A razor-edged smile spread across his face.
"Give up? Like hell. I'm gonna slaughter every last one of you bastards!"
"Then so be it," Vail said, his expression turning cold.
He reached behind his back and drew his weapon.
A massive broadsword, forged of dark, heat-tempered steel. Ember-like veins pulsed beneath the surface, glowing faintly, as if molten life slumbered inside the metal. Its crossguard flared like infernal wings, the hilt wrapped in charred leather.
"Magic Sword: Ignisbrand."
At Vail's command, a red line glowed down the center of the blade—then burst outward into roaring crimson flames. Heat distorted the air. Sparks dripped from the edge like falling embers.
Vail's eyes gleamed.
He was a Fire Mage.
With a sharp twist of his hips and shoulders, Vail swung Ignisbrand in a clean horizontal arc. The blade carved a burning line through the air—followed by a roaring wave of fire that erupted from its edge and shot forward like a blazing whip.
Rex reacted instantly.
A burst of green wind exploded beneath his feet, launching him upward in a powerful leap.
The firewave smashed into the ground below.
BOOM!
Flames detonated outward in a violent explosion, swallowing trees, soil, and air alike. The forest lit up in a pillar of fire. Bark cracked. Branches ignited. The ground sizzled.
Vail narrowed his eyes at the sight of Rex suspended in midair. "So you're using Wind Magic to fly, huh."
Rex didn't bother responding. He snapped his leg out behind him.
FWSSHH!
And blasted forward, wind bursting around his body as he rocketed toward Vail.
A metallic clang rang out.
The impact shook the earth—cracks shooting across the ground beneath Vail's feet in a spiderweb pattern.
"You've got good reflexes," Rex said with a sharp grin.
Vail held Ignisbrand up in a tight block, sparks dancing along the blade. "Tch. The last thing I need is praise from some random brat."
Rex didn't react. He kicked off the ground and slid back, landing several meters away.
He barely touched down before his instincts screamed.
Rex flipped backward, once, twice, three times.
FWIP—FWIP—FWIP!
A rain of arrows streaked down from above, each shaft lined with bright blue markings.
'An archer!'
Rex landed lightly, eyes sweeping the treeline. He immediately found the shooter: a man with brown hair tied in a ponytail, black eyes narrowed like a hawk.
"You've got sharp senses," the archer called.
Rex didn't get time to answer.
Two figures burst from the smoke, one from the right, one from the left.
Rex brought his arms up.
THUNK! THUNK!
Blocking both strikes at once.
"Tsk."
One of the bandits clicked his tongue in annoyance, realizing their ambush failed.
'I need distance!'
Rex shot backward, but the two bandits were already dashing after him.
"We won't let you!" one shouted, throwing a punch.
Rex blocked it.
BAP!
Then blocked another from the second bandit.
BWHM!
"Ngh…" Rex grit his teeth as a barrage followed.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
A storm of fists descended on him—but not a single blow landed. Rex deflected every strike, arms moving with sharp, practiced precision.
It was proof of his skill in unarmed combat.
Seeing an opening, Rex burst upward, wind blasting from his heels.
He rose high into the air, extending his arm.
Wind spiraled around it, tight, violent, compressed until the air hummed.
"Don't get cocky," Rex snarled. "I've got more power in my fingertips than you do in your whole body!"
He thrust his hand forward.
WHOOOOM!
A violent storm erupted outward, a shockwave of wind tearing across the battlefield. All three bandits were caught instantly, swept up and hurled in different directions as the gale swallowed them whole.
Before gravity could pull him back down, Rex clapped his hands together.
Wind converged.
Pressure spiked.
He unleashed it.
BOOOOOOM!
A savage tornado exploded outward, ripping through the forest floor. Smoke, debris, and leaves blasted into the air. Three bodies crashed to the ground, limp and unconscious.
Rex descended slowly, riding the fading wind.
He landed with a grin, brushing soot off his shoulder.
"I told you," he said, eyes sharp with confidence. "All of you are nothing but amateurs."
Seeing the display of Wind Magic, Vail narrowed his eyes. 'He's no master… but he's damn skilled.'
"I guess I'll have to take this seriously," he muttered, lifting Ignisbrand.
"Swordsmen are everywhere in this kingdom," Vail said suddenly. His tone shifted, heavy, thoughtful. "Every guild. Every crew. Every criminal syndicate. Swordsmanship is the most common weapon art out there."
Flames crawled up Ignisbrand's length like living serpents.
"Swordsmen are everywhere in this kingdom," Vail began, sounding philosophical.
"Huh? What the hell are you even yapping about?" Rex asked.
"My bad. Anyway, some swordsmen follow strict stances—"
"…bipolar bitch," Rex mumbled.
"…now who the hell you talking to?" Vail growled.
With a savage swing, he slammed Ignisbrand downward.
KRRAAASH!
The ground ruptured beneath the impact, the earth exploding outward.
But the real danger came an instant later.
Flames erupted from the web of cracks
BOOM!
small explosions popping like firecrackers as thick smoke swallowed the battlefield.
Vail moved.
He crouched low, legs coiled, then launched forward, vanishing into a blur.
He reappeared behind the smoke as it cleared, already sliding his sword back into its sheath.
"Quick Draw Technique—Flaming Sword Dash."
A thin line appeared across Rex's chest.
Then it split open.
SHRRRACK!
Bursting into a deep, tearing sword wound.
"AGH!!" Rex screamed, dropping to one knee. "W-what the hell was that—some kind of Iaijutsu!?"
"You should've listened to me," Vail said calmly. "That wound is serious. Use whatever moments you have left to reflect on your life."
He didn't even raise his sword again. To him, the fight was already finished.
Rex struggled, breathing hard. His vision blurred. His arms shook as he forced himself to sit upright.
'Am I really gonna die? Here? Like nothing…?'
'No… I don't want to. Not in this shitty world.
I lived without family… without friends… without a home. Nothing.'
If I'm gonna die then I'd rather go all out!'
Rex's hands slowly lifted.
Every instinct in Vail's body screamed.
He flinched and leapt back immediately, landing several meters away.
Rex looked up at him with a faint, crooked smile.
Vail's stomach twisted. A cold pressure crept up his spine.
'This feeling… What is…'
Rex's smile widened.
'Fear…? I'm feeling fear!?'
A bright green magic circle spun into existence beneath Rex.
"Magic is the refinement and shaping of Magic Power…" Rex muttered. "But this one spell… I could never master it."
Wind surged around him, wild, unstable.
"But maybe… now?"
Green light flared. His aura exploded outward.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Vail shouted. "Just give up and die already!"
But Rex didn't hear him.
Take Over Magic allows a mage to assume the form, instincts, and abilities of beings they fully understand. Most users collect multiple souls, each form a different monster, each transformation unique.
But Rex was different.
No matter how many monsters he fought or touched, his magic resonated with only one.
One beast.
One essence.
A limitation that became his greatest strength.
Through physical contact with his right arm, he "sealed" that essence into himself, allowing partial or, rarely, full transformation.
Normally, he never used the full form.
He preferred Wind Magic.
It was familiar. Safe.
But now?
Now he was dying.
So what did he have to lose?
Rex clenched his teeth, eyes wild.
"Imagine a version of myself that surpasses every limit… a self that won't ever be chained again!"
His smile twisted, dangerous, unhinged.
"I'll become that monster—right here, right now!"
Light swallowed him, bright green, blinding.
His body expanded. Bones cracked. Muscles swelled. Claws sprouted. A monstrous silhouette eclipsed Vail.
'Madness… What IS he!?' Vail screamed internally.
Rex's voice boomed, layered with a beast's roar.
"Full-Body Take Over: Lupine Beast King – Tyrant of a Thousand Fangs!!"
BOOOOOOOOM!!
A little while later…
Rain hammered the quiet streets of Magnolia. The city, normally lively even under stormy skies, felt strangely hollow tonight—empty, silent, as if holding its breath.
Through that silence staggered Rex.
He dragged himself forward, each step heavier than the last. His breathing came in broken, uneven gasps. Blood soaked through his clothes, trailing behind him as he moved.
His vision blurred. His legs buckled.
He collapsed face-first onto the cold, rain-slick stone.
'Is this it…?' he wondered, feeling the warmth of his own blood pooling beneath him. 'It feels…warm. Like a bath…'
That warmth pulled him downward, deeper and deeper, until the world around him faded. His eyelids slipped shut. Consciousness thinned into nothing.
Step. Step.
Footsteps approached, measured, unhurried.
A figure stopped beside him.
He was an extremely short, elderly man, barely 112 cm tall, with only a ring of white hair clinging to the sides of his nearly bald head. Sharp black eyes peered out from beneath heavy wrinkles, and a thick white mustache drooped prominently over his lip.
His clothing was casual, even whimsical:
a plain white shirt, an orange hoodie, matching orange shorts, and topping it all—an orange-and-blue striped jester hat, tilted just slightly, giving him an oddly youthful air despite his age.
Despite his small frame, he carried the unmistakable confidence of someone the world rarely challenged.
"My, my… what do we have here?" he murmured, voice softening as he knelt beside Rex.
"We'd better get you to Porlyusica. She'll patch you up good as new."
He extended a hand, small at first. Then it began to grow. Bones stretched, skin expanded, until his hand had become massive, large enough to scoop Rex up with ease.
Carefully, almost tenderly, he lifted the wounded boy from the ground.
"It pains my heart to see a child in such a state," he said quietly, turning toward the forest's edge and beginning to walk.
What Rex didn't know… was that he had stumbled into unimaginable luck.
He had crossed paths with one of the continent's greatest mages.
One of the Ten Wizard Saints.
---
Back in the forest…
A lone bandit stood motionless. His eyes had rolled back into his skull. Blood poured from his mouth in dark streams.
Both of his arms were gone, ripped off, not cut. His right leg was missing, leaving him balanced grotesquely on a single trembling limb.
Slowly, his body tilted forward.
'That form… I'm sure of it… 'Vail thought as gravity claimed him. 'That magical beast…'
'Lupine Fenrir… King of Wolves…'
Those were his final thoughts before darkness claimed him.
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