The Sword Saint’s Second Life As a Fox Girl

Chapter 167: 3-49 Unceasing

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Chapter 166: 3-48 Sky duel II

Chapter 168: 3-50 Craven

“It took me twenty years to grasp its nature and another twenty years to perfect a single spell. But you…” Aretov ground his teeth, seething. “You just learn it from being in my presence?”

“Oh, stop flattering yourself,” Erin belied him. “If anyone’s presence is the cause, it most certainly won’t be yours.” A face floated to mind. A face with a perpetual languid and disdainful expression. She tittered. She had been thinking far too much of him lately, she had come to realize.

“Cursed you…. Cursed you and your blood!” Aretov shouted. Indignation wrought his face. He couldn’t accept she, born not of the world, could grasp the understanding of Arcane Arts better and faster than he, a native. “The blood of an off-world dares to help herself to the pie…! Unacceptable! You don’t belong here!”

Erin shrugged at his insults. She activated Mana Harvest to replenish her depleted Mana pool but she didn’t feel invigorated. Her spell had failed her. There was Mana aplenty in the air but she could not absorb them. It was as if the world was moving too fast to grasp at them. Mana Harvest required not only her to be still but also the world, she came to understand. The Spatial Magic spell, Warp, had a high Mana expenditure and her current amount was just a few drops shy of being sufficient. She could use two Lightning Spears with her current reserves but not a single spell of spatial nature. It was down to her swordsmanship once again.

“Come on, then! Have at me!” The Ox-kin kept shouting. “I don’t need a weapon. My fists are enough of an honour for your kind.”

Erin rolled her eyes. Her adversaries seemed to all bear the same characteristics. “Throwing curses and insults at my way won’t make you any better than your former self nor will it hoist your courage. You’re so shallow, all of you.”

“Fine,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be having the first move.” Flames enveloped his fists and his nose puffed out steam. His first punch caught the air but the flames were tossed from his fist. Against the brushing cold wind, the fireball arced towards Erin.

She doused the bright vermilion flames with a spark of the fire of Essence Flare. “Spirits are in abundance in these parts. I can easily burn away your inferior spells.”

“Burn my fists then!” he roared and lunged with his arm winded behind him. He swung as he neared Erin. She dodged low and he met her manoeuvre with a knee. A shield of magic spread between his knee and her face. The shield was like steel to his flesh knee. He winced and threw an uppercut. Erin danced through his crude attempt and sliced off his arm with her gleaming blue blade. Blood spurted out from the wound but a flame charred it into a closed-off stump. He whirled around and lashed a feral hook at Erin.

“Fool,” she muttered. The rushing breeze took her voice as it passed by her. She brought her sabre to Aretov’s arm. Her silver steel came close to carving into his flesh when all of a sudden, he vanished with the space blurring. Her tails rose behind with Arcane Armour dressing them. Something hot and hard smashed into her makeshift barrier. She was thrown off her feet. She tumbled for a few good feet but she flipped to her feet on the fourth roll.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Aretov jeered with his chin jutted out. That hasty trick had left him gasping for air and kneeling on one knee. It had taken a lot out of him.

“I didn’t,” Erin admitted. “But that would be your last surprise.”

“I think not,” he huffed. “You will not dishearten me. You can not.”

“Take it as advice, then. I wouldn’t trust your mind and neither should you.”

“Blast!” he shouted. His fist was raised and the space shuddered.

Erin kept her sword close to her as the Aretov vanished from her sight. She closed her eyes and felt the thousands touch of the winds. The winds to her right began scratching her. She opened her eyes and slashed towards her right.

Aretov cried. Blood splattered into the air but the rushing breeze carried it off. His arm tumbled across the back of the serpent before slipping into the descent below. Now, both of his arms were lopped by the very same blade that killed his siblings by faith, or so he was led to believe. Flames came alive on their own and closed off his large gaping wound that was once attached with a limb. He gagged at his words and fell on both of his knees.

“Do you believe there’s honour in death?” Erin asked.

“Why do you care?” he replied, panting. “It’s not your death that’s imminent.”

“Which is why I’m asking you. Do you think there is honour? For me, there’s nothing great about death. It’s a literal means to an end. All these talks of honour of and in death are a bunch of lies cowards told themselves to face death with dignity and so what.”

“Death is not the end,” Aretov said, his breath calming. “It’s just another journey but before one could embark on another journey, one has to finish the present journey first and I have not finished my journey.” He glared, seething with fury.

“But it would seem your journey is finished with you. Thanks for the lesson.” Erin nodded in acknowledgement for the few but significant lessons she learned from this fight. Namely, her Spatial Magic. She swept his head clean off his neck without hesitation. She hesitated enough long before the fight started. Blood had to be spilt and it was either hers, her loved ones, or her enemies. She could only choose to save two and she split the blood of her enemies.

[Experience gained +50% - Level Progression: 125%]

[Erynthea: Level 36 increased to Level 37]

[Skill Points gained +2 | 6]

[Ability Points gained +2 | 6]

[Level Progression: 25%]

Erin watched the headless body slither off the back of the serpent and the winds carried it off into the distance. “May death be fair to you as life had been,” she mumbled some nonsensical prayer she had heard from some religious individual’s lips. Aretov had fought to his last breath for what he believed in, that was something Erin could respect but she wouldn’t give it. The person was a fool just like any other. For the sake of honour and those fooleries, they had died. The only stakes at hand for him were his pride and honour, things that she would once give her life to but no more. It had been her sheerest folly.

“Now, what to do with you?” she mulled as she glanced at the black scales of the Storm Mamba. It was still drifting gracefully in the air like it was a vast sea for it to swim. Aretov was dead but it remained. Aretov was not its summoner, Erin concluded. She looked over to her companions, who were flying half a mile beside the serpent. They waved at her and she waved back. They bore relieved smiles and reassured gazes.

The Storm Mamba screeched, turning Erin’s head. The Mama began stirring its body. Erin thought it was trying to shake her off but it wasn’t. She could hear the pain in its screeches as if it was trying to resist something. The only thing it could be trying to resist as a summoned was an order. Erin cast her gaze forward, a mountain came into view. It was dyed in snow and hidden in the embrace of the cold icy mist.

“Erin, jump!” Lyra shouted as Olivia steered towards the Storm Mamba.

Erin didn’t need the reminder but she didn’t retort. She would spar with her lover after she got off the Storm Mamba. However, lightning erupted from the Storm Mamba’s scales. The lightning was weak but appeared to bear viscous properties. The lightning was tethering Erin to the Mamba.

“Spirits be damned!” she swore. “What the fuck is this!?” She struggled off a tether but two more take their place.

“Erin, what’s wrong!?” Lyra asked at the top of her lungs.

“The lightning is holding me here!” Erin evoked the cyan flames of the Spirits but the lightning conjured faster than it could be burned away. “Confound this!”

“Use that same Spatial Magic you used when you fell!”

“I can’t. It costs more than what I have in my reserves.”

“Then what can we do?”

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Siv watched the predicament with all her composure. She came to the only solution. “Olivia, kill the Storm Mamba.”

“What?” Olivia blurted. “Are you sure?”

“It’s the only way. Mistress will be fine.”

“Good idea, Siv!” Erin gave her approval. “Kill this damn legless lizard!”

“Very well,” Olivia said and raised her with her jaws opened. Magic converged inside her mouth.

Erin’s smile turned upside down when she saw a colossal shadow looming close to Olivia. “Watch out!” she screamed, pointing.

But it was too late. Olivia turned her head too late. A vulture, as large as the Storm Mamba, plunged through the thick mist and dug its talons into Olivia. She screamed and turned the bided magic at the vulture, unleashing the stream of high-pressure water through its neck. The head came off and blood oozed off the empty and open neck.

Erin spared no glance at the vulture and set her gaze to her front. They were close to the wall of rocks and snow and she was nowhere near getting herself off of these viscous lightning tethers. Olivia had just managed to fling the dead vulture off of her and the brief struggle had wasted the sparse time they had.

Erin closed her eyes and clad herself with all of her defensive spells. The Storm Mamba rammed into the mountains of snow and a roar of boulders and rocks shook the air and earth. The momentum threw Erin off and she went spinning in the cold air. Fortunately, the Storm Mamba crashed near the crests of the mountain range. She ended up falling onto the peak but she bounced across the stretched surface of the icy mountain before the inches of deep snow stop her roll. She was half a feet away from the edge and one more turn would have thrown her off, down the steep slope of the mountain.

Pain assailed her once the numbness from her fall left her. She tapped the side of her waist and felt her sabre. She breathed in relief. It would be disastrous if she had lost her sabre in such weather. She stood but slumped back to the ground. She cursed her body and her wounds. She groaned and grunted but she was thankful. It could have been worse but it didn’t. Her spells faded off before she will them away. Her Mana pool had run dry and she was naked off her magic enhancements amidst the faint snow atop the mountain range. She steadily got to her feet and cast her gaze around. Aside from the edges, there was nothing but snow and boulders as far as she could see. The mist had thickened to the point that even the colossal figure of Olivia was nowhere to be found. Even her shadow was buried underneath the mist that was now comparable to a mild blizzard.

The cold ravaged her and she shuddered against their touch. Her tails fell on her, covering her shoulders as they draped over her back like a cape. Warmth returned to her but not enough to stave off the unforgiving cold.

“Lyra! Siv!” she shouted into the air. “Olivia! I’m right here!”

But only the wind responded with a gust blowing right into her face. She flinched and almost fell but her dextrous and supple legs kept her upright. Relieved that her legs still had strength in them, she trod through the snow. Another aspect of her new body that she hadn’t taken into account was her tolerance towards the weather. Her tempered body of Argon Raze would never shiver in such a cold but shiver she did in this body. It wasn’t as cold as real winter but still more than her body could handle.

“You look lost, lady.”

She hadn’t trod far from where she fell and someone had found her. She had looked around and found no presence of life but there was one now. She turned around and saw a man in thick fur and leather clothing, completely prepared for the cold. She couldn’t see his features as he wore a white wool mask to keep his face warm. She could neither smell his scent but that was a given since the winds were erratic. She smelled only the cold air and snow. They smelled sour and slightly bitter, surprisingly.

“Craven,” she spewed, reading from her Appraisal.

“Indeed.” The man nodded.

“You’re the Storm Mamba’s master.” Erin sighed in exasperation. “Is that no end to you people. Just where do you all keep climbing out from?”

Craven took her words as jest though he knew better. He sniggered. “I wished for your fall but you landed right here. Lady Luck is at work here.”

“Indeed it would seem. She brought you right to me. She likes me. Saves me the trouble.”

“Correction, I brought you to me. She favours me. I was hoping to finish you off when you didn’t plunge into and down the slopes.”

“I was hoping to finish you off too and those who dare to entertain the thought of doing me or my companions harm.”

“Sadly, that will remain a dream as this is the end for you, my lady.”

“What do you—”

Before her question could be asked, it was answered. Hundreds of white Serks appeared from underneath the snow and beyond the cliffs. She quickly glanced through their stats and found out they were all Craven’s familiars.

“A hundred Serks is off no threat to you, I will concur. I know of your exploits. You’re talented beyond one’s imagination but even talents have their limits. You’re cold and tired. Now, let’s see how much of that narrative would change, shall we?”

“Piss off,” Erin muttered weakly as she drew her sabre with trembling hands. She was indeed cold and tired.

Erinthea - Faerie-kin: Five-Tailed Fox-kin

Level: 37 | Status Affliction: Extreme Exhaustion

Might: 22 | Arcane: 44 | Finesse: 39

Combat Arts
Sword Art Lv. 8 | Fleet Foot Lv. 5 | Brawler Lv. 5

Unique Talent
Mystic Blade Lv. Ex | Revenant Lv. Ex

Level Progression: 25%

Remaining Skill Points: 6

Remaining Ability Points: 6

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Chapter 166: 3-48 Sky duel II

Chapter 168: 3-50 Craven

Chapter 167 3-49 Unceasing.

“It took me twenty years to grasp its nature and another twenty years to perfect a single spell. But you…” Aretov ground his teeth, seething. “You just learn it from being in my presence?”
“Oh, stop flattering yourself,” Erin belied him. “If anyone’s presence is the cause, it most certainly won’t be yours.” A face floated to mind. A face with a perpetual languid and disdainful expression. She tittered. She had been thinking far too much of him lately, she had come to realize.
“Cursed you…. Cursed you and your blood!” Aretov shouted. Indignation wrought his face. He couldn’t accept she, born not of the world, could grasp the understanding of Arcane Arts better and faster than he, a native. “The blood of an off-world dares to help herself to the pie…! Unacceptable! You don’t belong here!”
Erin shrugged at his insults. She activated Mana Harvest to replenish her depleted Mana pool but she didn’t feel invigorated. Her spell had failed her. There was Mana aplenty in the air but she could not absorb them. It was as if the world was moving too fast to grasp at them. Mana Harvest required not only her to be still but also the world, she came to understand. The Spatial Magic spell, Warp, had a high Mana expenditure and her current amount was just a few drops shy of being sufficient. She could use two Lightning Spears with her current reserves but not a single spell of spatial nature. It was down to her swordsmanship once again.
“Come on, then! Have at me!” The Ox-kin kept shouting. “I don’t need a weapon. My fists are enough of an honour for your kind.”
Erin rolled her eyes. Her adversaries seemed to all bear the same characteristics. “Throwing curses and insults at my way won’t make you any better than your former self nor will it hoist your courage. You’re so shallow, all of you.”
“Fine,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be having the first move.” Flames enveloped his fists and his nose puffed out steam. His first punch caught the air but the flames were tossed from his fist. Against the brushing cold wind, the fireball arced towards Erin.
She doused the bright vermilion flames with a spark of the fire of Essence Flare. “Spirits are in abundance in these parts. I can easily burn away your inferior spells.”
“Burn my fists then!” he roared and lunged with his arm winded behind him. He swung as he neared Erin. She dodged low and he met her manoeuvre with a knee. A shield of magic spread between his knee and her face. The shield was like steel to his flesh knee. He winced and threw an uppercut. Erin danced through his crude attempt and sliced off his arm with her gleaming blue blade. Blood spurted out from the wound but a flame charred it into a closed-off stump. He whirled around and lashed a feral hook at Erin.
“Fool,” she muttered. The rushing breeze took her voice as it passed by her. She brought her sabre to Aretov’s arm. Her silver steel came close to carving into his flesh when all of a sudden, he vanished with the space blurring. Her tails rose behind with Arcane Armour dressing them. Something hot and hard smashed into her makeshift barrier. She was thrown off her feet. She tumbled for a few good feet but she flipped to her feet on the fourth roll.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Aretov jeered with his chin jutted out. That hasty trick had left him gasping for air and kneeling on one knee. It had taken a lot out of him.
“I didn’t,” Erin admitted. “But that would be your last surprise.”
“I think not,” he huffed. “You will not dishearten me. You can not.”
“Take it as advice, then. I wouldn’t trust your mind and neither should you.”
“Blast!” he shouted. His fist was raised and the space shuddered.
Erin kept her sword close to her as the Aretov vanished from her sight. She closed her eyes and felt the thousands touch of the winds. The winds to her right began scratching her. She opened her eyes and slashed towards her right.
Aretov cried. Blood splattered into the air but the rushing breeze carried it off. His arm tumbled across the back of the serpent before slipping into the descent below. Now, both of his arms were lopped by the very same blade that killed his siblings by faith, or so he was led to believe. Flames came alive on their own and closed off his large gaping wound that was once attached with a limb. He gagged at his words and fell on both of his knees.
“Do you believe there’s honour in death?” Erin asked.
“Why do you care?” he replied, panting. “It’s not your death that’s imminent.”
“Which is why I’m asking you. Do you think there is honour? For me, there’s nothing great about death. It’s a literal means to an end. All these talks of honour of and in death are a bunch of lies cowards told themselves to face death with dignity and so what.”
“Death is not the end,” Aretov said, his breath calming. “It’s just another journey but before one could embark on another journey, one has to finish the present journey first and I have not finished my journey.” He glared, seething with fury.
“But it would seem your journey is finished with you. Thanks for the lesson.” Erin nodded in acknowledgement for the few but significant lessons she learned from this fight. Namely, her Spatial Magic. She swept his head clean off his neck without hesitation. She hesitated enough long before the fight started. Blood had to be spilt and it was either hers, her loved ones, or her enemies. She could only choose to save two and she split the blood of her enemies.
[Experience gained +50% - Level Progression: 125%]
[Erynthea: Level 36 increased to Level 37]
[Skill Points gained +2 | 6]
[Ability Points gained +2 | 6]
[Level Progression: 25%]
Erin watched the headless body slither off the back of the serpent and the winds carried it off into the distance. “May death be fair to you as life had been,” she mumbled some nonsensical prayer she had heard from some religious individual’s lips. Aretov had fought to his last breath for what he believed in, that was something Erin could respect but she wouldn’t give it. The person was a fool just like any other. For the sake of honour and those fooleries, they had died. The only stakes at hand for him were his pride and honour, things that she would once give her life to but no more. It had been her sheerest folly.
“Now, what to do with you?” she mulled as she glanced at the black scales of the Storm Mamba. It was still drifting gracefully in the air like it was a vast sea for it to swim. Aretov was dead but it remained. Aretov was not its summoner, Erin concluded. She looked over to her companions, who were flying half a mile beside the serpent. They waved at her and she waved back. They bore relieved smiles and reassured gazes.
The Storm Mamba screeched, turning Erin’s head. The Mama began stirring its body. Erin thought it was trying to shake her off but it wasn’t. She could hear the pain in its screeches as if it was trying to resist something. The only thing it could be trying to resist as a summoned was an order. Erin cast her gaze forward, a mountain came into view. It was dyed in snow and hidden in the embrace of the cold icy mist.
“Erin, jump!” Lyra shouted as Olivia steered towards the Storm Mamba.
Erin didn’t need the reminder but she didn’t retort. She would spar with her lover after she got off the Storm Mamba. However, lightning erupted from the Storm Mamba’s scales. The lightning was weak but appeared to bear viscous properties. The lightning was tethering Erin to the Mamba.
“Spirits be damned!” she swore. “What the fuck is this!?” She struggled off a tether but two more take their place.
“Erin, what’s wrong!?” Lyra asked at the top of her lungs.
“The lightning is holding me here!” Erin evoked the cyan flames of the Spirits but the lightning conjured faster than it could be burned away. “Confound this!”
“Use that same Spatial Magic you used when you fell!”
“I can’t. It costs more than what I have in my reserves.”
“Then what can we do?”
Siv watched the predicament with all her composure. She came to the only solution. “Olivia, kill the Storm Mamba.”
“What?” Olivia blurted. “Are you sure?”
“It’s the only way. Mistress will be fine.”
“Good idea, Siv!” Erin gave her approval. “Kill this damn legless lizard!”
“Very well,” Olivia said and raised her with her jaws opened. Magic converged inside her mouth.
Erin’s smile turned upside down when she saw a colossal shadow looming close to Olivia. “Watch out!” she screamed, pointing.
But it was too late. Olivia turned her head too late. A vulture, as large as the Storm Mamba, plunged through the thick mist and dug its talons into Olivia. She screamed and turned the bided magic at the vulture, unleashing the stream of high-pressure water through its neck. The head came off and blood oozed off the empty and open neck.
Erin spared no glance at the vulture and set her gaze to her front. They were close to the wall of rocks and snow and she was nowhere near getting herself off of these viscous lightning tethers. Olivia had just managed to fling the dead vulture off of her and the brief struggle had wasted the sparse time they had.
Erin closed her eyes and clad herself with all of her defensive spells. The Storm Mamba rammed into the mountains of snow and a roar of boulders and rocks shook the air and earth. The momentum threw Erin off and she went spinning in the cold air. Fortunately, the Storm Mamba crashed near the crests of the mountain range. She ended up falling onto the peak but she bounced across the stretched surface of the icy mountain before the inches of deep snow stop her roll. She was half a feet away from the edge and one more turn would have thrown her off, down the steep slope of the mountain.
Pain assailed her once the numbness from her fall left her. She tapped the side of her waist and felt her sabre. She breathed in relief. It would be disastrous if she had lost her sabre in such weather. She stood but slumped back to the ground. She cursed her body and her wounds. She groaned and grunted but she was thankful. It could have been worse but it didn’t. Her spells faded off before she will them away. Her Mana pool had run dry and she was naked off her magic enhancements amidst the faint snow atop the mountain range. She steadily got to her feet and cast her gaze around. Aside from the edges, there was nothing but snow and boulders as far as she could see. The mist had thickened to the point that even the colossal figure of Olivia was nowhere to be found. Even her shadow was buried underneath the mist that was now comparable to a mild blizzard.
The cold ravaged her and she shuddered against their touch. Her tails fell on her, covering her shoulders as they draped over her back like a cape. Warmth returned to her but not enough to stave off the unforgiving cold.
“Lyra! Siv!” she shouted into the air. “Olivia! I’m right here!”
But only the wind responded with a gust blowing right into her face. She flinched and almost fell but her dextrous and supple legs kept her upright. Relieved that her legs still had strength in them, she trod through the snow. Another aspect of her new body that she hadn’t taken into account was her tolerance towards the weather. Her tempered body of Argon Raze would never shiver in such a cold but shiver she did in this body. It wasn’t as cold as real winter but still more than her body could handle.
“You look lost, lady.”
She hadn’t trod far from where she fell and someone had found her. She had looked around and found no presence of life but there was one now. She turned around and saw a man in thick fur and leather clothing, completely prepared for the cold. She couldn’t see his features as he wore a white wool mask to keep his face warm. She could neither smell his scent but that was a given since the winds were erratic. She smelled only the cold air and snow. They smelled sour and slightly bitter, surprisingly.
“Craven,” she spewed, reading from her Appraisal.
“Indeed.” The man nodded.
“You’re the Storm Mamba’s master.” Erin sighed in exasperation. “Is that no end to you people. Just where do you all keep climbing out from?”
Craven took her words as jest though he knew better. He sniggered. “I wished for your fall but you landed right here. Lady Luck is at work here.”
“Indeed it would seem. She brought you right to me. She likes me. Saves me the trouble.”
“Correction, I brought you to me. She favours me. I was hoping to finish you off when you didn’t plunge into and down the slopes.”
“I was hoping to finish you off too and those who dare to entertain the thought of doing me or my companions harm.”
“Sadly, that will remain a dream as this is the end for you, my lady.”
“What do you—”
Before her question could be asked, it was answered. Hundreds of white Serks appeared from underneath the snow and beyond the cliffs. She quickly glanced through their stats and found out they were all Craven’s familiars.
“A hundred Serks is off no threat to you, I will concur. I know of your exploits. You’re talented beyond one’s imagination but even talents have their limits. You’re cold and tired. Now, let’s see how much of that narrative would change, shall we?”
“Piss off,” Erin muttered weakly as she drew her sabre with trembling hands. She was indeed cold and tired.

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