The warm, soft feeling that had enveloped me had not long ago disappeared, and after waiting a while, the rustling sound that had been coming from not far away gradually stopped.
Too lazy to get up, I turned my head and looked over there. I saw that Shen Xue had already silently gotten up and was sitting under the crooked tree, carefully wiping and checking the condition of her swords.
"You actually checked your own weapons first, instead of your own condition?" I asked her, somewhat surprised.
Miyuki glanced at me, carefully wiping the dirt off her beloved sword, and said calmly, "For a martial artist, swords are far more important than anything else."
Okay, I understand. Asking you such obvious questions is just asking me a fool's game.
But in my eyes, that long sword was spotless, not even a speck of dust. Even after such intense use, it showed no signs of chipping or bending. It was smooth and bright, almost reflecting a person's image. With each light movement, a hint of frost-white light seemed to appear in the air as the tip of the sword passed.
After a brief silence, Miyuki, who should have remained silent, suddenly spoke again: "Instead of focusing on me, why don't you care about yourself and the achievements you've made?"
"Why should I care?" I sighed, feeling that I finally had a little energy left. I then braced myself on my elbows and slowly exerted force. "It's normal. It's just that my magic power has been greatly depleted. I still have some left. I've done even more intense things before, and those were when I was almost completely drained."
You call this holding back your strength?
I could easily read this information from Miyuki's obviously distrustful eyes, and I was a little puzzled for a moment.
No matter how you look at it, the fact that I've managed to hold on until now without fainting, and even managed to get up after taking a bottle of alchemical potion, means I've only suffered minor injuries, right? After all, in the academy, a slightly more serious injury would require you to consider whether to take a trip to the graveyard before getting up. An even more serious injury would probably just leave you with only a preservative soul, which you'd have to put into a temporary container to slowly work out. And if it's really serious, you'd be completely gone.
Things are already pretty good right now.
Miyuki gave me another silent look, then quickly lowered her head to look at her sword again.
But the sight of her covered in blood and tattered clothes, barely covering her vital parts and leaving most of her skin exposed, was unbearable for me. So, I struggled to my feet and tossed her a bottle of blood potion and a trench coat that could cover her entire body. Miyuki didn't stand on ceremony; she simply nodded slightly, indicating that she would repay the favor in the future, and accepted it without hesitation.
Actually, I should be the one repaying her favor, and I'm even worried that it might not be enough. After all, at the very last moment before the eruption, Miyuki risked everything to take me, this burden, with her and pull me out of that deadly place.
Okay, it's embarrassing to admit, but I still haven't been able to get up.
The mud beneath him was loose and dry; even when he managed to compact it, it would always crumble away. His limbs were also barely able to provide enough support, and several attempts to do so resulted in him slipping and nearly slamming himself to the ground again.
"...Sigh, so weak."
Finally, even the usually silent Miyuki couldn't bear to watch any longer. She staggered to my side, supporting herself with her long sword, and helped me up. She adjusted my position slightly so I could comfortably lean against her shoulder. Only then did I notice her injured right leg; her calf was covered in bloody red welts and swelling, clearly a sprained ankle that had been thoroughly rubbed against the rough ground. Fortunately, after drinking the medicine, she showed signs of recovery; the bruises were rapidly subsiding.
I was going to complain about her rant.
But I didn't have time to complain in the end.
No, or rather, after witnessing firsthand the results achieved solely with my own hands, I could only gasp in amazement, unable to utter any more words.
From where I was standing—or more specifically, further forward—past the small mound that had previously separated me from the chimera, and centered on the site of the fierce battle in the deep snow, extending to less than half a meter in front of our feet and then into the distance, a huge and irregular continuous depression suddenly appeared on the flat ground.
As for what was originally there? Whether it was the forest or the chimera, it had all vanished without a trace, not even a speck of dust remained.
Exquisite glassy crystals covered the irregular cave walls, shimmering and changing brilliantly under the dazzling sunlight. On either side, the forest looked as if it had been violently ravaged by a hurricane, lying scattered and broken, with many roots exposed and countless others uprooted or broken.
A strong sense of unreality washed over me.
I looked around at the ruins that seemed to be left after a disaster, and squinted in the warmth and breeze on my face. For a moment, I could hardly believe that I was the one who had created this scene.
Yes, I am the one who created this [disaster].
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