The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

Morning arrived with the unpleasant efficiency of someone opening curtains before your soul had finished loading.

By the time the sun had properly climbed above Gisda, our carriage was already moving again.

The inn disappeared behind us.

The border waited ahead.

And Lord Garren, apparently determined to prove he contained more complicated emotions than hatred and additional hatred, escorted us personally for the final stretch through Inizio.

His knights rode alongside ours.

White magical horses moved at an easy pace around the carriage, their wings hidden for now. Garren himself stayed near the front most of the time, occasionally speaking with the officers leading our escort.

He looked comfortable enough while we remained inside Inizio.

Then the border came into view.

No enormous wall divided the two kingdoms.

No giant sign announcing:

WELCOME TO AGRAN. PLEASE LEAVE YOUR POLITICAL STABILITY AT THE DOOR.

Instead, there were markers.

Guard posts.

A wider clearing along the road.

Flags of Inizio on one side.

Agran’s symbols farther ahead.

And an invisible line that somehow carried more weight than any physical barrier.

Our carriage slowed.

Documents were checked.

The escort exchanged formal greetings with the border guards.

Everything remained calm.

Peaceful.

Almost disappointingly normal.

I looked through the window.

Garren had stopped his horse near the Inizio side.

He wasn’t coming farther.

Obviously.

A council member who had personally ordered attacks on Agranian travelers probably wouldn’t receive a complimentary fruit basket if he wandered across casually.

Our carriage began moving again.

We passed him.

I watched Garren through the window.

His expression was difficult to read.

But hesitation was there.

Not fear.

Concern.

His eyes followed the carriage as if he had considered saying one final thing and decided against it.

For a man who had repeatedly expressed enthusiasm at the idea of war with Agran, he looked remarkably unhappy watching his future queen cross into it.

Interesting guy.

Extremely prejudiced.

Potentially violent.

But interesting.

I leaned back.

“Well.”

Leyra looked away from the opposite window.

“What?”

“Of everyone in the kingdom, I really didn’t expect Garren to turn out that protective.”

Leyra smiled faintly.

“People are complicated.”

I pointed at her.

“And interesting.”

Her smile widened.

“Now you’re copying me.”

“No. I’m appreciating wisdom.”

“Mine?”

“Let’s not get arrogant.”

Leyra rolled her eyes.

The carriage crossed the border completely.

Agran.

I felt it.

Not magically.

Nothing exploded.

No divine message appeared above my head informing me I had entered hostile territory.

But the atmosphere changed anyway.

Maybe because I knew we were officially beyond Inizio’s protection.

Maybe because every warning from Viar, Treez, Nemris, and Garren was suddenly more relevant.

Or maybe it was simply because this was the second foreign kingdom I had entered since arriving in this world, and traveling somewhere as the representative of another nation still felt ridiculous.

I looked outside.

Agran stretched ahead.

This wasn’t technically my first time here.

I had already crossed into Agranian territory for the parley with Supreme General Rel.

But that visit had been different.

Military camp.

Negotiation town.

Captured generals.

Rel casually eating cake while psychologically dissecting everyone in the room.

Very specific tourism experience.

This time we were going deeper.

Toward the capital.

Toward Queen Firsa herself.

That made the view outside hit differently.

The architecture slowly changed as we traveled.

Road markers carried Agranian designs.

Buildings used darker wood and broader roofs.

Some structures had patterns carved into beams resembling stripes, claws, or geometric symbols I didn’t recognize yet.

People dressed differently too.

More reds.

Dark browns.

Deep greens.

Practical fabrics mixed with elaborate embroidery.

Tigerkin became far more common.

Stripes across cheeks.

Tails.

Ears.

Different colors and patterns.

But Agran wasn’t only Tigerkin.

Like Inizio, plenty of races lived here.

We passed a small town not long after crossing the border.

People stopped to look at us.

That was expected.

Royal carriage.

Inizio crest.

Foreign knights.

Crown princess.

Spriggan diplomat.

Not exactly subtle.

Some people stared openly.

Others whispered.

A merchant pointed us out to someone beside him.

Two children ran along the road briefly until an adult called them back.

Nobody threw rocks.

Nobody screamed insults.

Encouraging start.

I waved once at a child staring at the carriage.

The kid waved back enthusiastically.

Then his mother noticed and pulled his hand down.

I sighed.

“International relations remain difficult.”

Leyra looked at me.

“You waved at a child.”

“And received diplomatic resistance.”

She laughed softly.

We left the town behind.

The road entered forest.

At first, nothing seemed wrong.

Trees rose thickly on both sides.

Tall trunks.

Heavy branches.

Dense undergrowth.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy in broken patches, moving across the carriage windows as we rolled beneath them.

Birds called from somewhere above.

Wheels bumped rhythmically over the road.

The knights remained alert.

But nobody seemed alarmed.

I watched outside.

Then I noticed Leyra.

Her lion ears twitched.

Once.

Twice.

Then angled slightly toward the forest.

Her expression changed.

Not much.

Princess mask remained intact.

But I knew her better now.

Her eyes sharpened.

Her posture shifted by perhaps half an inch.

Enough.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

“They’re here.”

I sighed.

“So much for peaceful sightseeing.”

Leyra glanced toward the trees.

“I was wondering when they would appear.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You seemed bored.”

“I enjoy boredom when the alternative involves hired murderers.”

The carriage continued another few seconds.

Then slowed.

Stopped.

Outside, our knights immediately became more alert.

Hands moved toward weapons.

Someone called from the front.

“Road obstruction!”

Leyra stood.

Then looked at me.

“Let’s pretend we haven’t noticed anything.”

I smiled.

“Excellent.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You can do that?”

“Princess, pretending I know less than I actually do is one of my finest talents.”

Leyra gave me a look.

I opened the carriage door.

The moment I stepped outside, the situation became obvious.

A merchant wagon blocked the road ahead.

One wheel had supposedly collapsed sideways.

Supposedly.

The wagon sat at an awkward angle across most of the road, leaving almost no space for our carriage to pass.

Five men stood around it.

Different Beastkin.

All male.

Different builds.

Different features.

One had thick horns curling near his temples.

Another had foxlike ears.

One looked vaguely canine.

Another broader fellow had short dark fur along his forearms.

And the last had rounded ears and heavy shoulders.

Merchants.

Sure.

I had met actual merchants.

Actual merchants looked tired.

Annoyed.

Protective of their cargo.

These guys looked like people who had practiced standing casually immediately before murdering someone.

Our escort knights spread subtly around the carriage.

No swords drawn yet.

But hands hovered close.

One of the fake merchants stepped forward.

He bowed.

“Forgive us, my lords.”

Very polite.

Terrible liar.

“Our carriage broke.”

He gestured dramatically toward the damaged wheel.

“We were returning from the nearest town after purchasing supplies when it suddenly gave way.”

I looked at the wagon.

Almost empty.

Interesting.

One sack.

Two crates.

Maybe a barrel.

Either these men were the world’s least successful shopping expedition, or someone had forgotten set dressing.

The man looked at me.

His eyes stayed there slightly too long.

Not Leyra.

Me.

Then another one looked at me.

Then another.

Oh.

Cute.

Primary target selected.

I smiled.

“Don’t worry.”

The nearest man blinked.

I continued.

“Tell us what you need.”

One of the others laughed.

Too friendly.

“You are very kind, sir.”

“I try.”

“We only ask for your patience while we repair the wheel.”

“Of course.”

I looked at the wagon again.

Then at the men.

Behind them, the forest moved.

Not visibly enough for an ordinary traveler.

But I could sense it.

Branches.

Leaves.

Weight shifting.

Dozens.

No.

More.

A lot more.

People hidden on both sides of the road.

Some above.

Some crouched behind brush.

Some farther back.

Leyra had heard them before we even stopped.

I smiled at the merchant.

“One question.”

His expression remained friendly.

“Of course, sir.”

“You said you were buying supplies.”

“Yes.”

I pointed toward the wagon.

“Then why is your carriage emptier than my schedule before I met royalty?”

The man’s smile tightened.

Another fake merchant answered quickly.

“The town was small.”

“Very small?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We couldn’t purchase much.”

I nodded.

“Reasonable.”

The tension eased slightly.

Then I added, “Still doesn’t explain the crowd hiding in the forest.”

Every fake merchant froze.

Beautiful.

One second.

That was all.

Then the closest man moved.

His hand snapped beneath his coat.

Dagger.

He lunged.

Fast.

Our knights were faster.

Steel flashed.

One sword cut across the attacker’s body before he reached me.

The man dropped hard onto the road.

Blood darkened the dirt beneath him.

And just like that, negotiations ended.

One of the remaining four shouted, “NOW!”

The forest exploded with movement.

People rushed from the trees.

Dozens.

Then more behind them.

Men and women.

Mixed races.

Light armor.

Leather.

Daggers.

Short swords.

Axes.

Bows.

No uniform.

No kingdom insignia.

Professional enough to coordinate.

Disposable enough that whoever hired them clearly didn’t expect receipts.

The four fake merchants charged toward us.

Our knights began drawing weapons.

I stepped forward.

“Don’t.”

One knight looked at me.

“Sir?”

I raised both hands.

Wind gathered around my palms.

At first it was only pressure.

Then the air screamed.

Leaves ripped from branches.

Dust lifted from the road.

My clothes snapped around me.

The assassins nearest the road hesitated.

Too late.

I dropped both palms toward the ground.

“Tempest Blast.”

The world inhaled.

Then exploded outward.

Wind erupted in every direction.

Not a gust.

A wall.

A violently expanding sphere of compressed air tore across the road and slammed into the attackers.

Bodies flew.

Literally.

The nearest assassins were ripped from their feet and launched backward like somebody had decided people were suddenly throwable furniture.

Several crashed into trees.

Others disappeared into bushes.

A few tumbled across the road for meters before stopping.

Branches bent violently.

Smaller trees bowed under the pressure.

Leaves burst from the canopy in huge swirling clouds.

The entire forest shook.

Birds fled upward.

The fake merchant wagon lifted on one side, slid across the dirt, then slammed into a tree with enough force to split its remaining wheel.

So much for repairs.

I straightened.

“Huh.”

Stronger than last time.

Much stronger.

The four fake merchants had been knocked down but not thrown as far.

They scrambled upright.

Still coming toward me.

Very committed employees.

I lifted one hand.

Lightning crawled over my fingers.

White-blue arcs snapped between them.

The air smelled sharp.

Burned.

Ozone.

Balder.

I remembered the traitorous councilman throwing lightning at Nemris.

Back then?

Annoying.

Dangerous enough to matter.

But manageable.

In my hand?

The spell felt different.

Denser.

Meaner.

Like someone had taken electricity and explained personal hatred to it.

I pointed.

“Lightning Strike.”

Thunder detonated.

The bolt crossed the distance instantly.

It hit the first man.

Then branched.

Four bodies vanished inside white-blue light.

For one blinding moment, their skeletons appeared as dark silhouettes.

Then the lightning roared louder.

The road erupted beneath them.

Smoke.

Heat.

Ash.

When the light vanished, none of the four remained standing.

Barely anything remained at all.

Blackened marks stained the ground where they had been.

I stared.

“Oh.”

Even the knights looked at me.

One blinked.

I looked at my hand.

“When Balder did that, it was irritating.”

Lightning still crawled faintly around my fingers.

“When I do it…”

A little ash drifted past.

“…apparently it becomes a weather-related war crime.”

The assassins deeper in the forest had already recovered from the wind.

Some rushed forward again.

Others raised bows.

Arrows flew.

Our knights blocked several.

I reached into Dimensional Storage.

My hand vanished into the opening.

Then came back gripping the golden greatsword Nemris had lent me.

Heavy.

Beautiful.

Familiar.

I swung it once.

Light gathered across the blade.

Not soft light.

Brilliant.

Dense.

The metal began glowing so strongly that the road turned pale beneath my feet.

Shadows sharpened.

The assassins slowed.

Smart.

Not smart enough to leave.

I raised the greatsword.

Power built along the edge until the weapon hummed in my hands.

“Holy Slash.”

I swung.

A massive wave of light tore outward.

It crossed the road in a broad arc.

Grass flattened beneath it.

Tree trunks exploded into splinters where the edge passed.

Several assassins tried diving aside.

Too slow.

The wave swallowed them.

Some vanished immediately inside the brilliance.

Others were thrown backward, armor shattered, weapons spinning from their hands.

The attack continued into the forest.

For several seconds, everything became white.

Then the light faded.

Smoke drifted between the trees.

A long scar had been carved through the road.

Bushes were simply gone.

Several trees leaned, sliced cleanly through their trunks before collapsing with heavy crashes.

Silence followed.

Even I stopped moving.

I looked at the greatsword.

Then at the destruction.

Then back at the sword.

“Okay.”

That had definitely improved.

During the battle against Remgar, Gia, and Treez, I had needed combinations.

Observation.

Adaptation.

Multiple copied abilities.

Timing.

Those three had pushed me hard.

Now?

One attack had erased a huge portion of this ambush.

I slowly planted the tip of the greatsword into the ground.

The remaining assassins stared.

Some had blood on them.

Some were injured.

Most were simply reconsidering every financial decision that had led to employment here.

I sighed.

“That was disappointing.”

Nobody moved.

I looked around.

“Most of you disappeared before this became interesting.”

One assassin tightened his grip around his sword.

I smiled.

“Oh, come on.”

I gestured around.

“Did your noble employers run out of money halfway through recruitment?”

A few faces darkened.

Excellent.

“Surely Agran has better cutthroats than this.”

One man shouted something unintelligible.

Probably rude.

I shrugged.

“I traveled all this way expecting an ambush.”

I tapped the sword against the dirt.

“If I’d known the quality control was this bad, I would’ve turned everyone invisible and walked around you.”

Leyra stood near the carriage.

Perfect princess posture.

But I could see the amusement in her eyes.

The assassins could too.

That made them angrier.

Good.

I spread my arms.

“How about this?”

Several watched carefully.

“You want me.”

No answer.

“Obviously.”

Still nothing.

“The knights won’t interfere.”

One of our knights turned toward me.

I looked at him.

He understood immediately.

A grin appeared beneath his helmet.

I continued.

“Come straight at me.”

The assassins exchanged looks.

“I’ll even stand right here.”

I pointed at my feet.

“No tricks.”

The knight beside the carriage laughed.

Loud.

“They don’t have the courage, Sir Caled.”

Oh.

There it was.

The emotional button.

Several assassins snapped their attention toward him.

The knight shrugged.

“See?”

I smiled.

“Well.”

I tilted my head.

“Apparently my escort has lost faith in you.”

That did it.

The remaining assassins screamed and charged.

All of them focused on me.

The knights did exactly what I promised.

Nothing.

They stepped back.

One actually folded his arms.

Amazing teamwork.

I pulled the greatsword from the ground.

Then changed my mind.

Too easy.

I returned it to Dimensional Storage.

Empty hands.

The assassins came faster.

I smiled.

“Rampage.”

Black energy erupted around me.

My vision sharpened.

Sound changed.

Every heartbeat around me became clearer.

Every footstep.

Every shift of cloth.

Every weapon cutting through air.

Power flooded my muscles.

The first assassin reached me.

He swung a short sword.

I stepped inside the attack.

Punched.

My fist connected with his face.

There was a wet crack.

Then his head burst apart.

I stopped for half a second.

The body remained upright long enough to take another step.

Then collapsed.

I stared at my fist.

“Oh.”

The second attacker came from my right.

Too late to reconsider.

I turned.

Punch.

His chest caved inward.

The force lifted him from the ground.

His body flew backward and crashed into two people behind him.

One went down screaming.

The other barely recovered before I reached him.

Another punch.

Blood burst across the road.

The assassin folded around the impact and disappeared into the crowd behind him.

The next three attacked together.

Sword.

Axe.

Dagger.

I ducked under the sword.

Caught the axe-wielder’s wrist.

Pulled him forward.

Knee.

His armor crumpled like thin metal wrapped around fruit.

I released him.

Turned.

Backhanded the dagger user.

His body spun sideways and hit a tree with enough force that bark exploded outward.

The swordsman tried again.

I punched him in the stomach.

Bad idea.

For him.

His body couldn’t handle the force.

The impact ruptured through him.

Blood sprayed across the dirt.

I stared again.

This was ridiculous.

Not difficult ridiculous.

Unfair ridiculous.

The assassins had expected to overwhelm a diplomat protected by knights.

Instead, they had apparently purchased front-row tickets to a demonstration on why ancient civilizations were nervous about humans.

Another rushed me.

Punch.

Gone.

Another.

Punch.

Broken.

Another.

He tried stopping.

Too late.

Momentum brought him into range.

I hit him once.

His body launched backward through a bush and disappeared.

The Rampage aura burned around me.

Black energy curled off my shoulders.

My fists felt impossibly light.

Fast.

Every movement carried more force than I intended.

I started adjusting.

Not enough time.

The attackers were still charging.

One reached from behind.

I turned and struck.

His head snapped sideways with a sound like green wood splitting.

Another came low.

I kicked him.

He lifted off the ground and flew several meters before crashing into the remains of the merchant wagon.

Wood shattered.

The surviving assassins stopped.

Finally.

Silence settled over the road.

The forest looked damaged by a storm.

Branches everywhere.

Leaves covered the dirt.

Smoke drifted from the path carved by Holy Slash.

Burn marks stained the road from Lightning Strike.

Bodies lay scattered through the clearing.

Some intact.

Some very much not.

Blood coated the ground around me.

My hands were red.

The Rampage aura faded.

I breathed once.

Not heavily.

That was the strange part.

I wasn’t tired.

Not really.

I looked around.

The attack was over.

Already.

I slowly stared at my fists.

“That was…”

I flexed my fingers.

“…concerningly easy.”

The knights began moving again.

Some checked the road.

Others searched the forest for survivors.

Leyra approached carefully.

She looked at the destruction.

Then at me.

Her expression was complicated.

Not afraid.

She knew what I could do.

But even she looked surprised.

I understood why.

I was surprised too.

Against the generals, every mistake had mattered.

Remgar’s strength.

Gia’s speed.

Treez’s magic.

They had forced me to climb quickly.

Adapt quickly.

Become better quickly.

But these assassins?

They couldn’t even keep up long enough to make the fight interesting.

I looked at the destroyed road.

The scorched ground.

The trees.

My hands.

Something had changed.

I was stronger than I had been during Dahera.

A lot stronger.

Not merely because I had more abilities.

My output itself felt heavier.

My body faster.

My magic denser.

Rampage more violent.

Holy Slash more destructive.

Even Balder’s lightning, an attack I had originally found more irritating than terrifying, had become powerful enough in my hands to erase four men before they could scream.

I slowly smiled.

The timing mattered.

When had the jump happened?

After Dahera.

After Remgar.

Gia.

Treez.

Three of the strongest people I had fought since entering Aphrodasia.

My eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Maybe learning their abilities wasn’t the only thing that changed me.

Maybe fighting people far above ordinary soldiers forced my body, magic, instincts, or whatever ridiculous human mechanism lived inside me to rise toward them.

I had no proof.

Not yet.

But the possibility was difficult to ignore.

The stronger the people I fought…

The stronger I became afterward.

I looked at my fists again.

That sounds good.