"O sacrifice offered unto my hearth, surrender thy very soul upon the altar—Pāoa!"
With my declaration, a spear of pure white took perfect shape in my hand. It was a substance not of this world, seemingly devouring all light and heat in its vicinity. This was no mere weapon. It was an 'error' in the world itself, capable of melting even the laws governing divine Authority and returning them to their primordial essence.
I wrapped the Authority of the storm around my feet. This wasn't for evasion or containment; it was pure propulsion for an advance. Gliding as if riding the wind, I kicked off the melting marble floor and charged at Salvatore Doni.
"Kuh... Hahaha! Hahahaha!"
Facing absolute destruction, Salvatore Doni let out a burst of fanatical ecstasy that transcended mere caution. He did not retreat. Instead, like a seeker finally meeting the nemesis he had waited his whole life for, he stepped forward and adjusted his grip on his greatsword. His Authority of steel was shrieking through his entire body. Flee. This cannot be blocked. That thing is the natural predator that will erase the very concept of your 'steel.'
But Doni crushed his instincts with his will. He made a declaration to his blade, and to the world at large.
"I swear it here."
His voice was low, yet it swallowed every vibration in the hall.
"I do not permit the existence of anything I cannot cut!"
The fighting spirit radiating from his body distorted the very air.
"This blade is the invincible sword that severs even the truths of concepts!"
Kaaaaaang—! It wasn't a dull impact. The moment the white spearpoint met the massive blade, a sharp, ear-piercing friction—the sound of one 'law' forcibly grinding down and erasing another—shook the entire hall.
G-g-g-g-g...! Doni’s greatsword began to shriek and melt against the absolute 'liquefaction' of Pāoa. The red-hot blade bent like soft taffy, dripping to the floor in molten metallic droplets. Every time my spear lunged, his sword lost another inch of its existence.
Yet even as his sword melted, it was cutting the very power of 'liquefaction' held within the spear. My spear of pure white flickered where his blade touched, its form blurring. At the cost of his sword, he was wounding the essence of my Authority.
"Hahaha! Yes! This is it! A melting sword! Heat that chars the flesh! But my swordsmanship cuts through it all!"
Sshhh! He swung his sword with a manic laugh. I immediately used the wind to propel myself backward, evading the strike. Swish! The sword sliced through empty air, but the mere afterpressure was enough to cleanly shear through a stone pillar, causing it to collapse.
I changed tactics. Feinting a direct thrust, I instinctively twisted the spear just before it made contact with his blade. The white tip grazed his edge and aimed for his body. My target wasn't his heart, but the divine protection of steel covering his right arm!
"Aaaagh!"
Finally, a scream of pure pain—not joy—erupted from Doni. My spear hadn't even touched him directly; the mere white heat radiating from the tip had brushed against his steel-hardened skin. That was enough. The Authority of steel covering his right arm melted away like ice cream, burning his raw flesh with a sickening sizzle.
"This heat...! My steel!"
Though he writhed in pain, he swung his sword even more fiercely. This lunatic was using the pain as fuel to make himself stronger! Sh-sh-shk! Befitting his title as the King of Swords, his technique became faster and more precise. Forced back by his relentless barrage, I swung my spear like a shield to barely parry the blows.
"Dammit!"
His skill had reached the realm of the gods. In that case, I would respond with instinct! The moment his blade flew toward my neck, I didn't dodge; I lowered my stance and lunged into his reach. Simultaneously, I choked up on the spear and thrust it directly into the Authority of steel protecting his abdomen.
Thump!
The dull sound of the spear hitting his body echoed. Though it didn't pierce him, Pāoa’s power exploded.
"Gah...! Again?!"
The steel protection over his stomach turned white-hot and began to melt. He kicked me away with a roar, but I used the wind to bleed off the momentum and retreated.
I soared into the air. Using the wind to create a foothold in the sky, I thrust my spear downward toward his head. My three-dimensional movement, defying gravity, seemed to catch him off guard for the first time.
"From above?!"
But he was a monster. Reversing his grip on the sword, he swung upward toward the heavens. His blade didn't aim for my spear. It cut the 'flow of wind' that served as my foothold! As my support vanished, I lost my balance and began to fall.
"Kuh!"
Even as I fell, I forcibly twisted my body to evade his counter. Slice! His blade grazed my shoulder. A wound delivered by a divine Authority was horrific; pain washed over me as if the very concepts of flesh and bone were being erased by the 'act of cutting.'
However, I wasn't just taking hits. Using the acceleration of the fall, I spun and swung my spear. The target: his legs!
"How annoying!"
He blocked with his sword, but I hadn't swung the spear itself. I had channeled a wave of heat from the spear through the floor toward his feet. The steel protection covering both his legs melted in that heat, fusing his feet to the ground.
Finally, our weapons ground against one another and came to a standstill. The pure white spear and the red-hot greatsword pushed against each other in a tense equilibrium. This was no longer about technique or intuition. It was a clash of pure Authority and will.
"An incredible Authority, rookie! This is the first time my sword has struggled this much!"
He bared his teeth in a grin, squeezing out the last of his strength to push the blade forward. More than half his sword had melted into a pathetic iron rod, yet the will to 'cut' contained within it had not dulled in the slightest.
"Before my blade, all things are but objects to be severed and vanished!"
With his final sacred incantation, the melting sword emitted one last flash of light.
Facing his will, I shouted the essence of my own power.
"With the primordial flame, I shall incinerate the impure and begin my pure creation once more!"
The hall could no longer contain the aftermath of the two Authorities colliding.
KWAAAAAAANG—!
With a massive explosion, Doni and I were simultaneously blasted backward. The white spear scattered into light, and his greatsword evaporated into the air as its last fragments melted. In the thick shroud of dust, Doni—his body covered in burns—staggered, trying to stand once more.
"Haah... haah... Not yet... it's not over yet!"
His eyes were still glittering with madness. I sensed that it was time to end this insane fight. My intuition sounded an alarm; any further combat would result in extreme exhaustion, or one of us actually dying. I unleashed the Authority of the storm with my remaining strength.
"I'm done playing with you."
"What?"
"O Heavens, carry this sinner away upon the gale!"
A massive vortex erupted from beneath my feet. The whirlwind, soaring toward the sky while vacuuming up the wreckage of the hall, easily lifted Doni—who could barely stand—into the air.
"Wh—! Hey, rookie! The match isn't—!"
His shout was drowned out by the roar of the storm. I raised my hand, pointing in the direction he would be sent.
"Farewell, King of Swords."
Like a giant catapult, the storm flung his body through the gaping hole in the ceiling and far across the night sky.
In the quiet ruins, I gasped for air. The toll of pushing my Authority to its limit weighed heavily on my entire body. Then, as if sensing the end of the clash of Kings, someone stepped cautiously into the hall, navigating the lingering remnants of massive power. It was a grim-faced Alessandro, followed by Paolo Brandelli, the leader of the Bronze-Black Cross, who stood speechless at the devastation.
Paolo sighed deeply as he surveyed the ruins, which looked as though mythical giants had waged war within them. He approached me and bowed his head like a general conceding defeat.
"My King. Our organization has committed an unforgivable discourtesy, unable to resist the coercion of the King of Swords. We will accept any punishment you deem fit."
Dragging my exhausted body, I walked past him and spoke quietly.
"I'm tired. The price for your association's complicity in this matter... I will formally collect it later."
Paolo's face stiffened at my cold declaration. He spoke up urgently.
"If I may make an impertinent request, if you would consider this incident a draw..."
"I don't care about such things."
I cut him off. The prestige wasn't the point. The point was holding the fools who coerced my knight, Alessandro, and those who failed to stop them, accountable.
Just then, someone rushed into the hall with a murderous aura. Though he wore a black tailcoat, his hair was disheveled and he was panting desperately. He ran up to me, caught his breath, and bowed deeply.
"It is an honor to meet you, My King! I am Andrea Rivera, butler to the King of Swords, Salvatore Doni, and his long-suffering friend!"
He looked up, his face red with fury as he shouted.
"I am truly mortified! While that bastard sent me away, claiming there was 'wine that had to be urgently imported to Naples,' I had no idea he would commit such insanity! I offer my sincerest apologies for the atrocities committed by my friend! Please, bestow whatever punishment...!"
His genuine rage made me let out a dry chuckle. This man was suffering from the same hardships I was.
"Forget it. I've got the gist of his personality. You've certainly got your hands full."
Andrea looked ready to cry at my words of comfort. I had no energy left to deal with them, so I signaled to Alessandro and left the scene.
Interlude
1.
A few days later, while I was preparing to depart the country, Paolo Brandelli paid me a personal visit. He politely presented a box.
"This is an official token of apology from the Bronze-Black Cross for the recent events. Please, accept it."
Inside the box was a dagger that appeared to be an artifact from the era of Ancient Rome. It was an extraordinary object, faintly radiating magical power. It seemed he had come to pay a portion of the 'compensation' in advance.
Accepting this didn't mean they were forgiven. I had merely shown a measure of mercy because Alessandro was once a member of their order. I made it clear that if such an event occurred again, I would rule with punishment rather than mercy, much like my dealings with the Four Divine Guardians or the History Compilation Committee.
"And there is one more thing. It appears the King of Swords has recognized you as his 'rival.' He is incredibly persistent, so I fear such disturbances will continue in the future. For the sake of Italy's peace, please... stop his rampages. I ask this as a simple citizen."
He bowed not as a leader, but as an Italian man. I took the box without a word. I had no intention of granting his request, but I felt the sincerity of his desire to clear the debt.
2.
Meanwhile, on a nameless small archipelago in southern Italy, a man crawled out of the sea. He sprawled out on his back, staring at the sky and laughing jovially.
"Khaha! Underwater survival training! I don't know how long it's been! Swimming back wasn't half bad!"
Salvatore Doni picked up his battered body and winked at the eastern sky, where I had departed.
"Just you wait, my rival. Next time won't end so inconclusively. The real fight starts now!"
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