I Refuse the Tragic Ending
Chapter 58: The monster beneath the cloth
"Hehe. So impatient."
The tall stranger’s laughter drifted through the clearing.
Rovan tightened his grip around his sword. The purplish magical energy surrounding its blade grew denser, forming a thin, shimmering edge that distorted the air around it. Behind him, Garrick, Selene, and Liora spread out, each preparing to support him.
The four instructors had already established that these two people were responsible for the crimson barrier. More importantly, the smaller figure had openly admitted that the students trapped inside were sacrificed for a ritual.
There was no reason to negotiate anymore.
They needed to subdue these two and find a way through the barrier before the ritual reached its conclusion.
"Rovan, don’t rush in recklessly," Garrick warned. "We don’t know the full extent of their abilities."
"I know."
Rovan kept his eyes on the tall man.
"But we won’t learn anything by standing here, either."
The stranger chuckled.
"Wonderful. Come along, then. Let’s see how much entertainment four academy instructors can provide."
Rovan moved first.
His sword swept forward in a horizontal arc, releasing a crescent of purplish mana that raced toward the stranger. Rather than evade immediately, the man raised his hand and drew a dark symbol in the air with two fingers.
The crescent magical blade attack struck the symbol.
For an instant, the two forces collided. Then the purple crescent attack twisted. Its trajectory bent sharply upward, passing over the stranger’s head before exploding against the trees behind him.
The resulting shock wave shook the branches and scattered leaves across the clearing.
Rovan’s eyes narrowed.
The man hadn’t blocked his attack through superior force. He had altered its direction by manipulating the magic embedded within it.
That was no ordinary defensive technique.
Before Rovan could investigate further, the stranger appeared directly in front of him.
A dark blade extended from the man’s palm. Rovan barely raised his sword in time. The weapons collided, producing a shrill metallic ring. Dark energy spread across Rovan’s blade, attempting to crawl toward his hands, but he immediately circulated mana through the weapon and forced the foreign energy away.
The stranger’s crimson eyes gleamed behind his mask.
"Good reaction."
He twisted his wrist.
The dark blade slid along Rovan’s sword, producing a shower of sparks. The stranger used the movement to step inside Rovan’s guard and drove his knee toward the instructor’s abdomen.
Rovan reinforced his body and caught the attack with his forearm. The impact still pushed him backward.
He retreated two steps before turning his defensive movement into a counterattack, bringing his sword down toward the enemy’s shoulder.
The man leaned aside.
Rovan’s blade sliced through the dark fabric covering his upper arm.
A strip of cloth fluttered to the ground.
The stranger glanced at it.
Then he laughed.
"Hahaha. You’re more persistent than you look."
Rovan didn’t respond.
Something about the man’s movements bothered him. It wasn’t simply the strange way he manipulated magic. It was the method behind his attacks.
Every movement seemed designed to interfere with an opponent’s mana circulation. His defensive spells didn’t merely repel attacks; they altered the structure of the incoming magic. Even his physical strikes carried traces of dark energy that lingered against the target, disrupting the flow of mana through the affected area.
Rovan had encountered that kind of magic before.
The memory was distant, buried beneath years of training and countless battles, but its unpleasant familiarity made the hairs on his arms rise.
No.
It couldn’t be.
He watched the stranger carefully as the man raised his hand again.
A cluster of dark symbols appeared around his fingers, each one rotating independently. The symbols connected through thin strands of energy, forming a complex magical array.
Rovan’s stomach tightened.
He knew those patterns.
He had seen them once before, carved into the walls of a ruined building that reeked of blood and decay.
And he remembered the screams that had echoed through its corridors.
"Rovan!"
Garrick’s shout pulled him back to the present.
A dark projectile shot toward his head.
Rovan twisted aside, but the projectile grazed his cheek and exploded against the ground behind him.
He barely had time to recover before another attack arrived. The stranger flicked his fingers, sending a series of narrow black spikes toward Rovan’s chest.
Rovan swept his sword upward.
A crescent of mana intercepted the projectiles, cutting them apart before they reached him.
The fragments didn’t disappear. Instead, they dissolved into dark mist that spread across the clearing.
"Don’t let that mist touch you!" Rovan shouted.
He wasn’t certain what the mist would do, but he remembered enough to distrust it.
Selene immediately reacted.
She swept both arms outward, generating a powerful current of wind that pushed the mist away from the instructors. The air pressure increased rapidly, forcing the dark particles toward the edge of the clearing.
The stranger glanced at her.
"An elemental manipulator. How troublesome."
He extended his hand toward the ground.
The earth beneath Selene’s feet darkened.
Thin black lines spread through the soil, forming a complicated pattern that resembled a network of veins. Before Selene could react, several dark tendrils erupted from the ground and wrapped around her ankles.
She immediately released a burst of wind.
The tendrils broke apart, but their fragments transformed into writhing threads that attempted to bind her again.
Liora stepped forward.
"Not happening."
She thrust both hands toward the ground.
A luminous formation spread beneath Selene, and several golden bands erupted from the soil, intercepting the dark threads before they could reach her.
The two opposing energies collided. The ground trembled as the formations struggled against one another.
Liora gritted her teeth and poured more mana into her technique.
"Selene, get out of there!"
Selene jumped backward, using a concentrated gust to propel herself away from the dark formation.
The moment she escaped, Liora closed her hands.
The golden bands tightened around the dark tendrils, compressing them until the foreign magic fractured and dissolved.
Liora exhaled.
"Whatever that magic is, it doesn’t behave like an ordinary spell."
"No," Selene replied, keeping her eyes on the stranger. "It feels as though he’s giving his mana instructions after it’s already left his body."
Across the clearing, Rovan’s expression grew increasingly grim.
That observation was disturbingly close to the truth.
The stranger’s magic seemed to retain its purpose even after separating from its caster. It could alter its shape, redirect attacks, and interfere with other techniques without requiring the man to maintain direct control over every movement.
It was a sophisticated form of dark magic. And Rovan knew only one group notorious for using it in such a manner.
The Black Veil Covenant.
A criminal organization whose members were responsible for assassinations, disappearances, forbidden experiments, and the deaths of countless people.
Most people knew little about its inner workings. Its members operated through secret networks, and even high-ranking adventurers had difficulty identifying its leaders.
But those who had encountered its more notorious members rarely forgot them. Especially those who survived.
Rovan swallowed.
He had spent years hoping never to encounter that particular kind of magic again. Yet here it was, standing before him. And the worst part was that he recognized the way the stranger moved. The way he angled his shoulders before launching a dark projectile. The way he twisted his wrist to redirect incoming attacks.
Even the faint pause he took before activating a complex spell. Rovan had seen those movements before.
A cold sensation crawled down his spine.
He needed confirmation.
He needed to see the man’s face.
...
The battle shifted when Garrick joined Rovan.
The defensive instructor charged from the left, his body enveloped in dense mana reinforcement. Unlike Rovan’s swordsmanship, Garrick’s fighting style relied on overwhelming close-range pressure and the ability to withstand attacks that would cripple ordinary combatants.
The tall stranger noticed him approaching and immediately abandoned his exchange with Rovan.
He extended one hand.
A dark symbol appeared in front of Garrick. The instructor struck it with his reinforced fist.
The symbol shattered.
For a moment, Garrick believed he had broken through the stranger’s defense. Then the fragments clung to his arm.
Dark lines spread across his reinforcement, attempting to penetrate the mana surrounding his skin.
Garrick immediately pulled his arm back and circulated more energy through it. The dark lines cracked and fell away, but the momentary distraction gave the stranger enough time to counterattack.
A dark blade formed along his forearm. He swung it toward Garrick’s neck.
Garrick ducked.
The blade passed overhead, cutting through several strands of hair.
Garrick drove his shoulder into the stranger’s chest, forcing him backward, then followed with a heavy punch.
The man raised his arm to block. The impact sent him sliding across the ground. Seeing it, Rovan immediately pursued. His sword swept forward, releasing three successive arcs of mana. The first forced the tall enemy to shift his footing, the second restricted his escape, and the third aimed directly at his exposed side.
The stranger traced a symbol in the air. A circular barrier formed around him. Rovan’s attacks struck its surface. Cracks spread across the barrier, but it held long enough for the stranger to counterattack.
The circular formation suddenly collapsed inward. The stored energy erupted outward in a concentrated shock wave. Rovan and Garrick were both thrown backward.
Garrick landed on one knee and immediately reinforced his body, while Rovan rolled across the ground before planting his sword into the soil to stop himself.
The stranger stood at the center of the fading formation.
His breathing remained steady.
"Two against one," he remarked. "And you still haven’t managed to accomplish anything meaningful."
Garrick rose slowly.
"You’re talking a lot for someone who’s been pushed back twice."
The stranger looked at him.
Then he laughed.
"Fair enough."
He raised both hands.
The dark symbols surrounding his body multiplied.
Dozens of intricate patterns appeared in the air, each one connected to the others by thin strands of black mana. The formations spread throughout the clearing, creating an elaborate network that seemed to encompass every tree, rock, and patch of soil.
Rovan’s expression changed.
He recognized the structure. It was a control formation, the kind used to establish a network of interconnected spells. Each individual symbol served a different function, but together they allowed the caster to manipulate multiple techniques simultaneously.
The stranger had transformed the entire clearing into his battlefield.
"Get out of the formation!" Rovan shouted.
Garrick immediately retreated. Rovan followed, but the dark symbols activated before they could escape.
Black spikes erupted from the ground. Dark blades emerged from the surrounding mist. Thin tendrils shot between the trees, attempting to restrict their movements.
The instructors were forced to defend themselves from several directions at once.
Garrick shattered the spikes with reinforced punches, while Rovan cut through the approaching blades. Every time they destroyed one attack, another emerged from a different part of the formation.
The stranger stood in the center of the network, directing the attacks with small movements of his fingers.
He wasn’t merely fighting two opponents. He was controlling the entire battlefield.
Selene watched from a distance, her expression tense.
"We can’t let him maintain that formation."
Liora nodded.
"I’ll disrupt the outer network. You create an opening for Rovan and Garrick."
Selene raised her hands.
The wind around the clearing condensed into several rotating currents. Rather than launch ordinary projectiles, she directed the currents toward the spaces between the dark symbols, searching for the points where the network connected.
Liora followed by creating several golden formations along the ground.
The luminous patterns spread outward, intersecting with the dark network and destabilizing its connections.
For the first time, the stranger’s formation flickered.
Several dark symbols disappeared.
Rovan noticed immediately.
"Garrick, now!"
Garrick charged through the opening.
He reinforced his legs and accelerated, covering the distance in a few powerful strides. The stranger attempted to redirect his movement with a dark current, but Selene’s wind disrupted the attack before it could take shape.
Garrick reached the man and threw a heavy punch.
The stranger crossed his arms. The impact forced him backward. Rovan followed from the opposite side, his sword glowing with concentrated mana.
The tall man twisted to evade the blade, but the attack cut through the edge of his cloak.
Another section of dark fabric fell away.
Rovan’s eyes narrowed.
Beneath the torn cloth, he glimpsed something pale. Not the ordinary pallor of someone who had spent too long indoors. The skin was almost unnaturally white, with faint discolorations running along the exposed arm. Several thick stitches crossed the flesh, some following the length of the forearm while others formed irregular lines near the elbow.
Rovan’s heart skipped.
The stranger immediately stepped back and pulled the remaining cloth over his arm. But Rovan had already seen enough to deepen his suspicions.
Stitches. Pale skin. Dark magic that interfered with mana circulation. And a fighting style that had haunted his memories for years.
His sword trembled slightly in his hand.
The tall enemy laughed.
"Hahaha."
He tilted his head.
"You almost got me there."
Rovan stared at him.
The man’s face remained concealed behind the mask covering his lower face, but his eyes gleamed through the shadows beneath his hood.
Cold, crimson, and menacing.
"It can’t be..."
Rovan’s stomach twisted. His complexion turned pale. The enemy noticed something in Rovan’s expression.
His laughter grew louder.
"What’s wrong, instructor? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost."
Rovan felt the blood drain from his face.
He had spent years convincing himself that the man responsible for his greatest regret was either dead or had disappeared beyond his reach. He had trained relentlessly, developed new techniques, and pushed his Hero Core beyond its previous limits.
All for the possibility of meeting that monster again. He had never expected the opportunity to arrive here.
Fate had placed the man directly in front of him.
And Rovan finally understood why the stranger’s movements had seemed so familiar.
"Valthazar Stitch..."
The name escaped his mouth almost involuntarily.
Garrick glanced toward him.
"Rovan? You know this man?"
Rovan didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes remained fixed on the stranger’s exposed arm. The tall man slowly lowered his hood. Then he reached up and removed the mask covering his mouth.
The sight beneath it was far worse than Rovan had imagined.
The man’s skin was unnaturally pale, almost devoid of color. Thick stitches ran along his neck and crossed his jaw, disappearing beneath the collar of his clothing. More stitches marked the exposed portions of his chest and arms, forming a grotesque network of scars that suggested his body had been cut apart and reassembled.
Yet he was not dead.
His chest rose and fell with each breath, and the muscles beneath his skin moved normally. The stitches were real, but whatever had been done to him had left him alive.
His lips stretched into a thin smile.
"Well, well."
He tilted his head.
"It seems someone recognized me."
The crimson light in his eyes intensified.
"Rovan."
Hearing his name spoken in that familiar voice sent a chill through the instructor’s entire body.
There was no mistaking it.
The man standing before him was the same monster who had destroyed his life years ago.
Valthazar Stitch.
A notorious criminal and one of the Black Veil Covenant’s most feared members.
A man whose crimes had earned him a place on several high-priority wanted lists.
And the person who had murdered Rovan’s best friend.
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