The deadlock was broken by the fading sight of the captain's body, rushing swiftly toward the frog-man.
At the exact same moment, three spikes made of golden mana flew in the toad-eyed man's direction. He whipped them away as they dissipated.
When he got closer, the captain raised his sword and aimed for the frog's head. He was almost within reach when he suddenly felt something— the whip was nearly closing around his right leg. He quickly leapt into the air, dodging the attack as the chains collided with each other.
The Frog leapt into the air toward the captain, lashing out with his whip. The captain raised his sword to defend, but the whip's movements were too unpredictable. Even though he blocked part of the attacks, some still tore into his flesh.
Both fell to the ground. The captain was injured, while the frog remained intact.
The priestess moved both hands in an arc, instantly shooting six golden spikes. They whistled through the air.
As the golden spikes were about to hit the frog, he decided to rush toward them, ignoring the captain. He was faster, forcing the captain to turn around and play by his rules.
He dodged the first spike, then the second and third. He twisted his body to slip past the fourth and fifth. The sixth spike, aimed at his head, he defended by raising his hands. The golden spike dissipated on impact, perforating a thin layer of his skin, but it was barely enough to bleed.
"Coward, fight me!" the captain shouted, trying to reach the frog, who continued toward the mage.
The priestess grew nervous. She was a two-circled mage; in a countryside village like this, her existence alone made her important enough that she rarely needed to act unless she wished. She had ignored the whole execution, as it didn't interest her, but decided to intervene now—it was part of her vow to protect the people.
However, at that moment, her attacks were ignored like they were nothing. She conjured three more spikes and shot them toward the frog's head.
He easily dodged them, as if he was simply playing. Perhaps he was enjoying a bit of fun before returning to work.
The moment he was almost in front of her, with the captain still too far away, she made her decision: "I will give it my all. There is no other choice."
She began pouring all her mana out, the mana was being consumed at an alarming speed. Waves of golden energy rippled from her body, her skin dripping with sweat. Above her, a massive arrow was forming—too large to be called an arrow, perhaps closer to a spear.
"Divine Arr—"
Her voice was cut off. The whip chains rattled, and a red line appeared across her neck before her head fell to the ground. Blood erupted like a volcano, and her body collapsed.
"Why are mages always so eager to name their attacks?" the frog thought. His face wore a relaxed expression.
"FUCKER!!"
The guard captain was mid-air, putting all his strength into his legs as he rushed toward the frog, his head lowered like a battering ram.
The frog moved to dodge, but unexpectedly, he was too slow. The attack grazed his arm, drawing a trickle of blood.
"She had already received a Saint Seal? Damn it. Why does everything go wrong for me all the time? That's so unlucky. Damn it! Damn it! This is too suspicious! But it doesn't matter, I have to be faster, or the Light Order's dormant troops will catch me in no time. They must already be on the way."
Frog's body began to move with difficulty. Almost invisible golden chains appeared every time he moved, slowing and weakening him.
The captain slashed toward Frog's chest. The frog used his whip to catch the captain's sword and tore it from his hands. The weapon flew and embedded itself in a nearby tree trunk.
"No more time to play," the frog rushed toward the unarmed captain.
The captain met a brutal punch that sent him stumbling back a dozen steps. Blood flowed from his nose.
"That punch was meant to kill him... the seal's effect has already grown this strong, even faster than expected. I have to be even faster then!" the frog thought, moving his whip with beautiful precision.
The frog's playful face was now replaced with a serious expression. The captain, despite being bloodshot, weak, and battered, stubbornly resisted. His mind was fighting desperately to stay upright—he would not let his men die in vain.
Meanwhile, Faust used a tree to pull himself upright. His body could barely move, and his eyes struggled to stay open. Yet he noticed something—his attention was fixed on Frog's waist, more specifically, on the pouch hanging from it.
For over three minutes, no progress was made. The captain remained standing, though barely alive. The seal had greatly limited the frog, but its effect was already starting to dwindle. One more move, and the captain would fall.
The frog raised his arm, aiming a strike at the captain's neck.
It couldn't get any worse.
Until it did.
From all around the woods, figures appeared. Some wore heavy armor covering their entire bodies; others wore light leather armor. They all shared the same palette—white and gold—and bore the symbol of an eight-pointed star somewhere on their armor or clothing, usually on the chest.
They brandished a variety of weapons: axes, swords, crossbows.
Faust, instinctively understanding the danger, began dragging his weakened body closer to the frog. He knew better than to approach the newcomers.
The frog stopped attacking as the captain collapsed to the ground.
The frog's expression turned grim. "Damn it… they were even faster. This is too weird. Was this a setup?" He glanced at Faust. "I still have to take the kid back. If not... I'll just kill him and let the old man deal with it."
One armored soldier shouted, his voice muffled by his full-faced helmet, "Target confirmed: Chain-tongued Frog of the 'Beasts' and a rune demon. Soldiers, eliminate both."
"I must be right... this is too coincidental. A Saint Seal is only granted to the highest ranks. Why did a random countryside priestess have it? Was there a leak on my mission?" Frog thought, scanning the woods. He and Faust were surrounded, no clear escape.
"I could kill them, but if they have more troops coming, a battle of attrition would end badly for me."
At the same time, Faust glanced around quietly.
Chain-tongued Frog tensed as the men charged toward them. Faust already understood he was important to the frog, so he gambled on that fact—until the bitter end if needed.
The battle erupted. Arrows were fired and whipped away. Mana bullets were resisted by Frog's body. He killed several of the lightly armored soldiers but struggled against the heavily armored ones.
Sweat streamed from Frog's body; his expression grew darker, his body wounded by slashes, arrows, and mana strikes—none serious enough to be fatal. He maintained distance, hoping for a chance to grab Faust and flee. Killing Faust would be the very last resort.
The frog's body started to glow with a faint blue light. He activated his aura, but his face darkened even more.
"I can only use basic aura… they've improved the seal this much? This is the worst."
Minutes passed. The soldiers focused on attacking from a distance, but over ten had already fallen to Frog's whip. His body was bloodied and exhausted, protecting Faust as best he could.
He aimed his whip at a lightly armored soldier approaching him, but unknown to him, another soldier was rushing from behind.
A young Light Order soldier shouted, "I'll kill the rune user!" and aimed his sword at Faust.
Frog heard and lashed his whip, killing the soldier ahead. He turned just in time to see the young soldier's sword slice from Faust's shoulder to his chest. Blood flowed uncontrollably.
The young soldier grinned, but Frog wrapped his whip around his head and instantly killed him.
But it was too late.
Faust staggered, barely alive. His clear vision had long faded; every breath was a ragged gasp, each one laced with fire and blood. Yet his expression wasn't grim—his lips split into a grin, crimson-stained teeth bared like a beast's. Then came the laughter, wet and gurgling, louder than the battlefield's din.
The battlefield fell silent, gazes flickering toward Faust and Frog.
But inside Faust's mind, there was no silence.
He had finally understood—understood everything.
Why had he felt no guilt crushing those weaker than him?
Why did no one mourn the fallen, except him in his weakness?
Why did the strong trample the feeble without hesitation?
The answer was simple.
The world belonged to the strong.
It was shaped by them, ruled by them, justified by them. The weak were nothing—fleeting shadows, barely real. To be weak was the only sin. To be strong was the only virtue.
Killing me for what I did?
No, that's just an excuse.
I'm being killed because i'm weak.
They are killing because they are strong.
I was right all along. Just too narrow-minded.
Bodies look the same. Because so does everyone.
Everyone is the same. Everything is equal.
The only real difference is strength.
They aren't wrong either. Killing me isn't wrong.
Why shouldn't I be killed? It's my fault for being weak.
But if they have the right to limit and rule over me, deciding my death.
Then I have the right to find my own path and surpass their ruling.
From now on, I shall seek the Absolute—
Absolute knowledge, so no mystery remains beyond my grasp.
Absolute strength, so no force may hinder my pursuit.
Absolute will, so no doctrine may sway my resolve.
If killing is the price of reaching my goal, then I will kill.
I will slay the earth itself, and every pitiful creature that crawls upon it.
I will tear down the heavens, and annihilate every god who birthed such wretched beings.
I can't die now. To keep moving forward is my oath.
That is my resolve. The only thing I have left.
Ironically, Faust only realized his reason to live when he stood so close to death. He had settled into his conviction; the clarity made him lighter, unafraid of anyone, for they were all equal.
Frog used this moment of silence to make his move. He opened his dimensional pouch and retrieved a ruby token from inside, injecting mana into it. The token flew toward the woods—Light Order soldiers tried to stop it, but they failed. The token had already left the area.
"I just have to hold on now. If the old man gets my message, he will understand," Frog thought, as blood oozed from dozens of wounds across his body. The blood collapsed onto the ground, merging with that of the fallen around him.
Faust witnessed this. His ears heard no sound, his heartbeat was slow, his skin was soaked red with blood, his mouth could no longer speak, his nose could not smell, and even his eyes were nearly blinded—yet he saw it. He saw what Frog had done.
Though his body burned with pain, a voice rang out in his mind:
"Move. This is your final chance."
Faust gritted his teeth, ignoring the agony, and hurled himself toward Frog. Frog, too distracted by the battlefield to notice, reacted only when Faust collided with his leg—then kicked him aside with ease, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Damned kid…" Frog muttered, swinging his whip to keep the soldiers at bay. A few seconds passed before Frog thought, "I need a regeneration potion," glancing down at his waist—only to realize his dimensional pouch was gone. His gaze snapped to Faust, who, bloodied and broken, clutched it tightly against his chest.
A tiny flask was wedged between Faust's teeth, its red liquid already beginning to heal his wounds. The dimensional pouch in his hands glowed eerily, pulsing with an unnatural light—and in the next instant, it happened.
Before Frog—or anyone else—could react, the dimensional pouch flooded with mana and detonated.
In a single, blinding moment, hundreds of thousands of shimmering particles exploded into the air—dimensional particles, the very essence that allowed the pouch to function.
They sparkled like stars, pure and brilliant. Even those without the ability to sense mana could see them, so dense and radiant they were. In that fleeting sliver of time, Faust—barely conscious, unaware of what he had done—was completely engulfed by the glowing sea of light.
Frog and the other soldiers aimed their weapons, unleashing a barrage of attacks at him. But in the final instant, every strike missed.
Everyone on the battlefield was stunned, a single thought reverberating through their minds as they witnessed that unnatural event: "What just happened?"
Frog's mouth dropped open in shock. He had failed his mission.
Faust's body had simply vanished.
He was gone from the battlefield.
[END OF ARC 1: FIRST BLOOD]