Chapter 38.3

While Red marched forward, everyone else retreated. Most of the wolves out in the open had been killed or severely injured, but there were still some running behind bushes and trees, warily looking for an opening to exploit. Only a few people still kept senses on Red, and it became harder and harder as the wind picked up. The mana, from both air and earth, was drawn towards him, swirling around him as he slowly but surely took it in and embedded it in his very bones.

Step by step he grew. On the ground, one of the fallen giants had held a spear. Even though Red was still a bit smaller, he took it and threw it without hesitation. The Verglassed tip let it pierce right through one of the giants fighting the ambushing knights, taking out its heart in a single blow.

The remaining giants moved their focus to Red, allowing the knights to disengage and retreat. Red picked up a prepared part of the second barricade, the straps hard to find relevant for any observer, but it gave him a shield that fit the size of his opponents. He drew Crimson and Eirwen could swear she heard the sword sing as it was released from its scabbard, both sword and scabbard still growing along with Red.

Though he was not at triple height yet, that didn't stop him from cutting through the giants. Little could stop a Verglassed blade and these didn't possess any technique that could save them. Oh, they tried. But even if they had had full control of their mana, their techniques were nothing he couldn't handle. She shuddered, imagining what he could have been like in the war. Why his father had hid behind people to use as shield against him.

The retreating knights ran at full speed, arrows raining down near them to cover their escape. With the retreat now under control, Eirwen led her personal guard forward, so she could be at the wall a few counts sooner. And yet her senses never left Red, her very mind feeling the pull on the ambient mana. This already exceeded anything she had pulled in during her partial mana rampage. But still he was stable, steadily growing further, not a single sign of stopping.

She turned around and dismounted, calling for just enough mana to repeat his shape herself. As she grew, she felt the struggle. On one hand, her size aided her control. But the draw of mana that was now a heavy wind in her back, that was hard to stop. The rough mana stones helped, letting her focus on observing Red. Steadily he moved forward, now close enough that the next group of giants attacked him. Her heart almost stopped as she saw him being battered, and while he stopped some, he still took blows.

Now three times her original size, she brought forth a manifestation of his figure, him in full focus, his opponents naught but blurs. Those fleeing her way instinctively split around the figure, while from the walls she could feel the surprise. A useless distraction. With everyone around her, all were safe here. Her focus now was on him and herself, withdrawing everything else. Even the roars from those that realised what she was displaying, became but a muted rumble.

She knew he could move faster than this, avoid those hits, make it a bloody fight. But he was just taking them, killing in single strikes as he blocked their attempts to injure them. His skin wasn't as hard as he could make it either, she could see the bruising, blood splash as shallow cuts made it through. Compared to how he had fought her, during that lovely spar in his family home, how they had danced across the cold stones while his blood had boiled and vaporised, he was still holding back. Building that fire slowly but surely, preparing for what was to come. Playing bait, always just a step ahead, so that his opponents would think they had a chance, if only they pressed harder.

Yet for the first time, he fought true. As he weaved the mana deeper and deeper inside himself, as the ground nearly shuddered from the intensity of which he pulled it in, as the air came close to catching fire, as all banners and her cloak fluttered in the wind that was now storming his way, he finally fought true. Still in control, but cutting down without hesitation. Building his mana not out of despair in a way that burnt him, not in a reluctant manner that hid his true ability, hid his madness from the world, pretended he was approachable, but to unleash everything he had. His life on the line, for everything and everyone he cared for. Able to fight for something he truly believed in.

She sensed every move his opponents tried to pull, variations of every bit of trickery he had already learned and taught everyone else to deal with. He countered them just enough to move through them, fighting almost textbook-style as he cut them down and still moved forward. His opponents now were larger, the larger giants that they had theorised about before. But he too now stood that large, the mountain silk already beginning to stretch around him. It wasn't just his clothing that was a problem there, Crimson had reached its limit. She wished there had been time to arrange a larger sword for him, a greatsword able to retain its relative size to him.

But still he cut through, as vines tried to grasp him, as ice tried to counter his fire, as they tried to lock down the very mana he was pulling towards him. And she put it all on display, for the world to see. Through her focus pierced sounds from behind, shouts of encouragement, people chanting his name. A desperate plea, putting all their hopes on him. The refugees around her joined the screaming, as did her own. It took Eirwen all of her remaining willpower to not do the same.

She could feel the second storm, the weaker storm, coming his way. Sense the fear the giants were feeling, towards both storms. No surprise then how in their despair they jumped at Red, giving up on defeating him in combat and instead trying to lock down his arm. One after the other piled on top of him, forcing him to the ground, out of sight as they tried to find openings to stab him, choke him, break him. Her heart trembled at the sight. From further away, she could sense malice directed at him. But despite their efforts, they couldn't stop the storm. Couldn't stop the fire. He wove the mana into himself, faster and faster, from above and below, and their attempts to lock it down were all in vain. For but a count they seemed to manage, before it all smashed through.

Red rose to his feet with a roar, one that echoed through the mountains, as he threw them all away from him. He stood taller than them now, his growth still ongoing. Vines lashed out, not at him but at his opponents, Verglassed thorns cutting into them as he marched on. Winds now whipped past Eirwen, past the forest, past the mountains, at speeds resembling an actual storm. It took her everything she had to keep her mana woven together, drawing from every mana stone she held, barely managing to replenish what that storm drained away from her. Over there, she could sense the giants suffered far more. Nothing can stand the fire next to it.

And now, the source of all that malice had no choice but to act himself. She saw it now, showed it, allowing all to see that there stood a giant even taller than all the others, taller than Red still. The ruler gestured and spears flew at Red, sharpened tips enchanted with fire and ice, smashing into his skin. He pushed through, leaving his blood behind, vaporising into a red mist as it left his body. A snarl was on his face as he moved, cutting through yet another wave even though Crimson now was more of a bastard sword, as it no longer grew with him. And she could tell, tell that he wasn't using everything he could yet, even if it was close. Still baiting his opponent.

The last set of giants had shields, employed powerful defensive techniques that still functioned despite the draw. He cut through three before they managed to grab his arms, forcing them wide, allowing their ruler to stand in front of him with a grin. He pushed forward, but they held his arms back, and the people feared but never stopped believing, screaming incoherently, trying to will the winds and mana to feed on them and come to his aid. During it all, a group of knights now sped his way, as if they were trying to save him. The ruler saw and grinned, his face real close to Red, using his mana to hold in Red's.

She felt Red's grin more than that she sensed it, recognised the situation. His head went back, then smashed forward while a mana shield defended his own forehead from the damage of the headbutt. As the ruler stumbled backwards, Red pushed forward still, while his head kept smashing into his opponent's face. The ground grasped at the ones trying to hold him down, causing them to stumble and letting him break free with his left hand. One hand was all it took. Even his father's neck had required more effort to cut through. Another head taken by his hand.

His arm shot back, his elbow planting into the face of one of the giants holding him. Now he rushed, turning it into a quick brawl, freeing himself and cutting through them. She could tell he had reached his limit, that the final rush had broken his control. He stumbled away back towards her, falling to a knee and barely using Crimson to hold himself up. The mana wavered as he began to release it, forcing it from his bones through his flesh, out his back and into the air behind him.

The winds whipped up the flames, causing it to spread, engulfing the giants that had survived his last outburst. She felt their screams. They did not die quick. Bushes, trees, everything turned into an inferno, every bit of mana he had gathered now laying waste to all that remained. He shrunk far faster than he had grown, breath laboured, pathways torn into pieces, closer to death than he might have ever been. But his eyes were open as he looked at the ground.

She manifested herself in front of him, the same size as she held in person, an image she depicted for all to clearly see. A phantom of a sword touched his shoulder as she spoke, to him, to them, for the world to hear. "Rise, Flannán Caisteal. Your oath has been received." He lifted his head and grinned, too exhausted to properly stand. Behind him, she could sense survivors, spear throwers, archers, just a handful of giants remaining. In front of him, Sir Caerbychan arrived, a single arm grasping Red's, pulling him up on top of the horse as they turned and sped back. A massive spear flew in their direction but the image of Eirwen's blade flashed out, intercepting it. A second flash, and over sixty strides away from her, the thrower's head flew off.

Her image moved forward and the others fled in terror from her. She remained and waited, until Red finally arrived back at her, before she finally released all the mana she had been holding onto. Shrinking slowly back to her normal size, then falling in each other's arms. They had done it. Now none could deny his name.