“Berry?” Enya muttered, her gaze fixed on the second arena.
“Huh?” Risha blinked, looking over. “Berry? Oh, do you want some blueberry pie? There’s still some left on the table.”
“N-no,” Enya said, shaking her head. “That girl up there. Berry. She’s fighting on the second stage.”
Risha followed her gaze, her eyes landing on the energetic teen with a bright red scarf. “Ohhh. My bad—I wasn’t really listening when they announced the names. Do you know her? She’s got a nice scarf.”
“Yes…” Enya answered, though her voice lacked certainty.
Risha frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Enya’s eyes lingered on the display panel, where Berry Merrick bounced from side to side, stretching her legs in preparation for the match. A bundle of energy, carefree and full of life, as if nothing in the world could shake her confidence.
Back at the guardhouse, Berry and Manny had mentioned they were heading home, but they also said they’d wait for her at the tournament check-in. There was something odd about the way they left, but Enya couldn’t quite place a finger on it. And when she arrived at the check-in, there had been no sign of them. Maybe their timing was just off. Maybe they had entered before or after her. Or maybe…
Before she could finish the thought, the announcer’s voice cut through the visual panel.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! It is time to start the matches! Contestants, ready?!”
Berry stopped bouncing, crossing her arms and rolling her shoulders one last time before turning to face her opponent—Ashley Greaves.
Ashley was slightly shorter than Berry, dressed in practical leather armor that looked like it belonged to a seasoned hunter. With her stance and build, she could have easily been mistaken for a ranger—if not for the sword in her hands.
It didn’t seem like any regular sword an adventurer would have. To those that were culturally inclined, they could recognize the design. The engravings on the hilt twisted in the elegant, ornamental style of Yennemel craftsmanship. Though it appeared to be an ordinary iron blade at first glance, subtle traces of another metal lined its edges, strengthening and sharpening it beyond that of common steel. More notably, the blade itself was thinner than a standard longsword, made for precision rather than brute force.
Berry cracked her knuckles and adjusted her stance—left shoulder forward, right foot back—her body shifting into the hardened, stoic form of a fist-fighting brawler. Across from her, Ashley gripped her sword with both hands, the blade upright in front of her, dividing her form into two symmetrical halves.
The announcer raised his hand.
“Let the matches begin!”
At that moment, all three arenas erupted into motion.
Berry’s carefree grin vanished in an instant. Her expression tightened, her eyes sharp and focused. Though she was naturally lean, her muscles tensed, revealing the definition that was hidden beneath.
She launched forward, pushing off the ground with an explosive kick. One powerful stride covered half the distance between them; another sent her straight into striking range.
Ashley, however, remained still. Unshaken. Watching her opponent approach.
Berry reeled back her fist, her entire body coiling like a drawn bow, before unleashing a devastating punch aimed straight at Ashley’s right shoulder.
But the moment Berry entered her reach, Ashley moved.
Her hands twisted, shifting the base of her sword left while keeping the tip stationary—a sharp, calculated movement that redirected force rather than meeting it head-on.
A chittering impact echoed through the air as Berry’s punch connected with the blade. Metal vibrated under the force of the blow, yet the sword held firm and steady.
Berry’s expression twisted, eyes wide with disbelief that such a thin blade could handle her strike. Past that split second of hesitation, she pulled back her left fist for another blow—this time, with even greater force.
But Ashley was already moving.
“First step!” Ashley muttered, the words coming out sharp, as if ingrained through years of discipline.
Using the tip of her blade as a pivot, she spun like a falling petal in the wind, her entire body shifting with the motion. In a single fluid movement, she slid past Berry’s second strike, the edge of her blade barely grazing above the brawler’s knuckles and trailing along her entire arm as she repositioned herself at Berry’s left flank.
“Second step!” she followed immediately. Her wrists jerked momentarily and split away from her blade, letting the momentum rotate it upward. With a sharp clasp back on the handle, she swung her rising sword into a downward strike, aimed cleanly at Berry’s exposed shoulder.
Before the blade could descend, a deep crimson light flared around Berry’s body.
A large, powerful force of mana surged, thick and raw, distorting the air around her like a heat mirage. Immediately, a shock wave of power erupted from Berry’s body.
The sheer force cracked the stone beneath Berry’s feet, sending a burst of pressure slamming into Ashley. The swordswoman was thrown backward, skidding several dozen feet across the ground. Even so, she managed to hold her sword upright, other hand trailing on the ground, stabilizing herself before she could lose balance.
Berry exhaled, breath misting in the air. Her skin had darkened to a deeper red, and for a moment, she resembled an Oni—one of the ogre-like warriors of Yennemel’s tribal lands, known for their monstrous strength and endurance.
“What explosive action we have on the second stage!” the announcer roared. “A match of fists versus blade! Keep your eyes locked, folks—you won’t want to miss a second of this!”
Berry launched herself forward again, closing the distance in an instant.
Berry’s punch shot forward like a lightning bolt. Ashley reacted just as before, shifting her stance to sidestep—only this time, she moved right instead of left.
That was when the pulse hit.
A wave of invisible force radiated from Berry’s body, distorting the air around her like a sudden drop in pressure. For a split second, Ashley’s entire body faltered—her senses thrown into chaos, as though her own movements had disconnected from her will.
Berry’s first strike barely missed, grazing past Ashley’s face—but the real attack came an instant later. Her second fist crashed into Ashley’s left shoulder just as the swordswoman’s body locked up in that split second.
The impact sent Ashley tumbling across the white stone arena, her form rolling with controlled precision. Her grip on her sword however, still never faltered; ironclad in nature.
Even as she slid, her movements snapped back into place, and within seconds, she was already back on her feet, blade raised, centering herself once more.
“Amazing! Folks, did you just see that?!” the announcer bellowed.
Up in the stands, Henry Merrick’s companion turned to him, eyes wide.
“Oy, what was that skill your daughter just used?” the noble asked, intrigued. “I ain’t much for watching fights, but I swear that Ashley girl just froze up for a second.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Henry let out a soft chuckle. “That’s one of her class skills,” he explained. “She’s a mana berserker. Her body fuels itself by driving her own mana into a frenzy—makes her stronger, faster, more resistant to pain. But she can also project it outward, disrupting the mana of others. She sent Ashley’s mana into disarray for a brief moment—just long enough to throw off her footing.”
Back on the stage, Ashley wasn’t about to let Berry control the pace of the fight any longer.
“Fifth step!” she shouted.
This time, it was Ashley who took the offensive, closing the gap between them in a flash.
Berry stood her ground, ready to intercept—her focus locked onto Ashley’s approach. She was confident she could counter the first strike. The problem was the others.
Midway through her charge, Ashley’s form split into three.
Three separate figures—identical, flickering wildly like distorted reflections on water. The mirage pulsed erratically, each copy shifting position in chaotic bursts, as though they were caught in a constant, unstable teleportation loop.
All three Ashleys raised their swords in unison.
Berry’s muscles tensed. A lesser fighter might have hesitated, unsure which was real—but Berry didn’t need to guess. She had a different way of dealing with tricks like this.
Mana berserkers were creatures of pure, untamed power. Their mana boiled with their emotions, unlike most mages, whose magic remained a steady, serene pool of energy. And when a berserker's magic flared, it didn’t just empower them—it disrupted everything around them.
If Ashley’s illusion was created through mana-based trickery, then Berry’s skill would tear right through it.
With a sharp breath, Berry let her power explode outward.
A second pulse of invisible force surged from her body, rippling through the air like an expanding shockwave. The moment it collided with the three flickering Ashleys, their forms distorted violently—then vanished.
Berry bared her teeth, her stance lowering as her eyes darted around.
“Where—?”
“Seventh step!”
The words echoed out from behind Berry. Her ears twitched, instincts screaming at her as she twisted around—just in time to see Ashley behind her, body angled and leaning, as though she had run a full circle in a sprint around her.
Ashley dug her foot into the ground, completely stopping and shifting her momentum into her sword. The sword that was already raised high, poised to strike.
In a swift, decisive motion, Ashley snapped her wrists, sending her blade hurtling down in a perfect vertical slash—aimed straight at Berry’s open, unguarded shoulder. A mirage of three blades; an attack creating its own after images in a single swing, struck its mark.
Berry’s badge flared bright white, absorbing the strike’s force before it could cause real damage, while simultaneously slamming Berry down to one knee.
Ashley wasted no time. The instant her blade finished its motion, she kicked off the ground, leaping back several paces, resetting the flow of the fight after a clean hit.
Ashley resumed her starting stance, feet sliding against the stone as she came to a controlled stop. Her breath remained steady, but her eyes were locked onto Berry, filled with determination and focus. That last strike had connected, but it wasn’t enough to stop her opponent. Not yet.
Berry rolled her shoulder, cracking the joint as if shaking off the strike like an afterthought. Her grin returned, wider this time, though there was something different about it now. Something wilder.
Her muscles tensed, and then—
Boom.
A violent surge of mana erupted from her body. The air rippled, distorting like heat waves in a desert, and the red aura that had flickered around her before now roared to life, consuming her entire form in a burning crimson glow.
The crowd gasped as the energy surrounding Berry shifted—it was no longer just raw power spilling from her body.
It had form.
Behind Berry, the aura twisted and coalesced, warping into the shape of a beast—its outline jagged, unfinished, like a flickering shadow in a storm. A pair of glowing eyes emerged, sharp and narrow, burning with the same violent red as Berry’s mana.
It was small, barely taller than her, its back hunched like a predator ready to pounce. Its limbs were indistinct, sometimes appearing clawed, sometimes forming massive, muscular fists. But the one thing that remained constant was its rage. A primal, barely contained fury pulsed within its glowing form, mirroring the fire in Berry’s own eyes. Sometimes it resembled a tiger, a lion, a dragon, a hawk, or a chimera of multiple beasts.
Berry stood, then, she attacked.
She vanished—no; she exploded forward.
Ashley barely had time to react before Berry was already in front of her, fist cocked back.
She slashed instinctively, but something stopped her.
The beast behind Berry moved with her, its massive spectral claw swinging forward in tandem with Berry’s real fist. It was like fighting two opponents in one.
The moment Ashley’s blade met Berry’s fist, another shockwave blasted outward, sending dust and debris flying. The sword shook violently in her grasp, forcing her to plant her feet or risk being thrown backward.
But Berry wasn’t done.
Her second fist was already in motion, and this time, the beast’s other limb swung with her. The blow connected.
Ashley barely managed to brace before she was launched backward, her body rolling across the arena floor.
The audience erupted into cheers, gasps, and stunned silence.
Up in the stands, Henry Merrick remained calm, but the noble beside him whistled. “That… wow,” the man muttered. “I’ve seen different berserkers before, but your daughter… that is something else.”
Henry chuckled, but his eyes never left Berry.
“That’s her Avatar,” he said simply. “It’s not just her mana going berserk—it’s her soul. That’s not just energy. That’s her fury. Her emotions. Her will, given form from her mana.”
The noble exhaled. “Damn. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”
Henry didn’t reply. He simply watched. Because he knew Berry. He knew that right now, in this moment, she wasn’t just fighting her opponent.
She was fighting herself.
Back on the arena, Ashley coughed as she steadied herself, shaking off the hit. Her body ached, but she wasn’t ready to surrender. She rose her sword again.
Across the arena, Berry stood at the ready, her red aura still burning wildly around her, the beast behind her flickering in and out of existence like an unstable anomaly.
The crimson aura surrounding Berry pulsed violently, her spectral beast flickering with each ragged breath she took. The longer the fight dragged on, the more erratic her movements became.
They clashed once more, each side landing a hit, but also getting hit themselves. However, it was evident that Ashley was on the losing side of the exchange.
Ashley tightened her grip on her sword, sweat trickling down her brow. Berry’s movements were growing wilder, her strikes more relentless. The blows didn’t stop. Every time Ashley tried to reposition, Berry was already there, her fist swinging, her aura-clawed specter mimicking every motion.
Another strike. Another. Another.
Ashley barely managed to block, her entire body trembling under the force of each impact. Her arms burned, her legs felt like lead, and the more she tried to push back, the more she realized—
Berry wasn’t slowing down.
If anything, she was getting faster.
Ashley grit her teeth. If she let this continue, she’d be torn apart before she could counterattack. To avoid being overwhelmed by her opponent’s ferocious fighting spirit, she had to stop the fight.
She took a deep breath, her stance shifting.
Her sword glowed, mana cascading down the length of the blade like flowing water. The engravings along the hilt pulsed, and the thin, deceptively sharp metal shimmered with a new intensity.
“Ninth Form—Dividing Slash!”
Ashley planted her feet, her muscles coiling like a tightened spring. Then—she attacked.
Her entire body blurred as she slashed diagonally, a brilliant arc of silver light streaking across the arena. The cut was perfect—sharp, precise. A strike meant to end things, to split what needed to be split.
But Berry didn’t stop.
She didn’t even try to dodge.
The red glow around her exploded outward, the bestial figure behind her roaring in tandem. She barreled straight through the attack, the dividing light breaking apart as her sheer presence shattered the momentum of the slash.
Ashley’s eyes widened.
Then—
BOOM.
Berry slammed into her with the force of what felt like a falling miniature mountain.
Ashley’s body was flung across the stage like a ragdoll, her sword finally slipping from her fingers as she tumbled. Her badge flickered—then shattered into glowing fragments. She flew until she finally stopped near the edge of the arena, now unconscious.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
The announcer’s voice bellowed across the tournament grounds.
“And that’s it! The match is over! Berry Merrick is the winner!”
But Berry wasn’t stopping. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. Her fingers twitched. The beast behind her still pulsed, its eyes wild and unblinking.
And then she took a step forward.
Ashley lay sprawled on the ground, dazed and unmoving, but Berry kept walking.
Another step. Then another. Her aura flared, her breath ragged, her body still trembling with the lingering embers of rage.
She wasn’t done.
The announcer hesitated. The crowd, moments ago roaring with excitement, now murmured uncertainly.
And then—
“BERRY!” A voice ripped through the noise. Loud. Commanding. Unyielding.
Berry froze.
Henry’s voice had cut through the haze and mumbles of the stadium.
The words were firm and absolute, reverberating deep in her chest. It drowned out the noise from everything else.
Her hands clenched. Her vision swam.
For the first time since she entered this state, her limbs shook—not with rage, but with something else. Something that felt too close.
Her breath stopped. She staggered, her hands pressing against her temples as if trying to ground herself. The beast behind her flickered, its form breaking apart, its furious glow dimming.
The rage subsided.
Slowly, she exhaled. The red aura faded, the pressure in the air lifting. Berry blinked, her eyes hazed and her body suddenly weak.
Then, without a word, she turned away.
Her steps were slow—controlled now, but still unsteady. She stepped off the stage, her expression unreadable, and disappeared into the waiting area.
The crowd didn’t know what to say.
Henry let out a quiet breath, his eyes following Berry as she returned to the fighter’s hallway.
After a few moments, past the eerie silence that followed, the tournament carried on, as more explosive action happened in the other arenas, reinvigorating the crowd and the announcer casting the matches once more.