Our stats were probably about even.
No—because of the buffs bestowed by the Holy Maiden, I might even have the advantage.
There was a difference in realm between a Sword User and a Sword Master, but the gap in aura could somehow be made up for with stats strengthened by buffs.
If we were competing with the skill we could display at full condition, I would be at a disadvantage. But he had lost an arm, leaving his ability greatly diminished, so that would not matter.
The problem was—
the difference in our weapons.
Though Scaramuccia’s golden lance had been greatly dulled by blood and dust, it did not look ragged in the slightest.
Meanwhile, my sword’s durability was so close to bottoming out that it was remarkable it had somehow managed to retain its shape.
Even if Carnwennan was intact, it was still a dagger. Its reach was far too short to contend with that golden lance.
Either I held out until they got here.
Or I defeated this bastard before my sword’s durability gave out.
No, but why the hell was Professor Luke not here yet?
As I inwardly cursed that skeleton for neglecting his duties—
Tap!
With the light sound of feet kicking off the ground, Scaramuccia’s golden lance thrust at me at tremendous speed.
His golden lance was wrapped in aura, and that thrusting form was a skill.
[Sail Swordsmanship].
Unlike Logres Swordsmanship or Imperial Swordsmanship, which were divided into several forms, it was a simple technique with only one move: a thrust.
But because it was simple, it was intuitive and powerful.
True to a name that meant shooting at the sun, Scaramuccia thrust swiftly and fiercely.
But—
I wrapped my sword in sword aura.
Then I struck it aside with the [Logres Strong Sword Form].
With the Holy Maiden’s buff bringing my stats to their peak, reacting to and knocking aside his attack was not difficult.
Well, since there was no one directly behind me right now, the stats strengthened by Flower of Chivalry were gradually declining.
Still, the Flower of Chivalry trait had some flexibility to it.
Even if there was no one here at the moment, perhaps because it knew whom this fight was for, it merely faded gradually.
It did not go out entirely.
Boom!
I poured mana into my legs to reinforce my leg strength.
[Logres Quick Sword Form].
The golden lance needed distance to unleash its full power.
So I drove inside, preventing that golden lance from displaying its full strength.
Pure-white sword aura surged forward at high speed.
But, as if proving that he had not become a Sword Master by playing cards, he slid his grip far down the shaft, blocked my sword with a reverse grip, and swept the golden lance sideways.
I blocked the golden lance with Prydwen in my left hand.
There was a limit to blocking it with this sword, whose durability had nearly run out.
My stats were strengthened, and the shield reduced the damage by eighty percent.
Yet my insides still shook.
The unceasing vibrations of the golden lance penetrated through the shield and into my body.
From my perspective, it was pure hell.
Right there, I used the strongest skill available to me.
I kicked off the earth once more with a stamping step, cracking the ground beneath me.
Then I poured the principle of madness into this single sword, now ragged beyond belief.
[Mad Orlando].
A frenzied wave born of violent emotion engulfed Scaramuccia.
But—
all Scaramuccia did was thrust his lance into empty air.
He marked a single point in the storm of madness, intending to break through it head-on.
His golden lance began to shriek at terrifying speed as it resisted the storm of madness.
I clenched my teeth.
A lance that pierced through all things as it advanced, striving to reach even the sun.
A storm that ground down all things and permitted not a shred of emotion.
And in that contradictory clash, I was the one being pushed back.
The storm’s force did not diminish.
Even if his was a sword that shot at the sun, the madness wielded with the force of the stars behind it could not be easily driven back.
But the decisive difference was—
Crack.
simply the difference in our armaments.
That difference alone was deciding victory and defeat.
The sword my brother had given me belonged among the ranks of famed blades, but its durability was now in the gutter. Meanwhile, that golden lance was a vicious weapon specialized in destroying durability through vibrations.
On top of that, its wielder was a Sword Master.
In a way, it was impressive enough that this sword maintained its form amid such a fierce battle.
Crack.
Though it was protected by my sword aura, the crack carved into the blade continued to spread.
Judging that it would be difficult to maintain the storm any longer,
I prepared another technique.
When I stopped moving my hand, the storm that would grind everything to dust ceased.
The golden lance continued forward.
I immediately concentrated mana into my arm and condensed pure-white sword aura.
To shatter that golden lance, I needed one massive blow rather than a series of strikes.
If only I had asked Angelica to show me that secret technique.
She had not used that secret technique when fighting Scaramuccia, had she?
It was not without reason that she had not used it.
That technique consumed an enormous amount of mana, making it a secret art effective only in short battles.
It would not work against Scaramuccia, whose gimmick made him immune to physical attacks anyway, so using it would only waste mana.
That was why she had not used it.
What a shame.
Now that he was not using his gimmick, there could be no technique more effective than that secret art.
With no other choice,
I poured the heavy principle into my sword alone, as a substitute of sorts.
[Logres Strong Sword Form].
I brought it down.
Accelerating like a falling meteor, the weight of Logres poured down upon Scaramuccia.
Scaramuccia raised his golden lance and blocked it.
KWA-AAAANG—!!!
When the two weapons collided, a thunderous crash rang out and a cloud of dust rose.
Tch.
I clicked my tongue.
No matter how much of a Sword Master Scaramuccia was,
without being able to use aura blades, he could not use the avatar that reinforced his own body either.
And because I held a slight advantage in stats, it would have been difficult for one-armed Scaramuccia to completely block the Strong Sword Form.
But—
what decided victory and defeat, once again, was the condition of our weapons.
"Your sword broke."
When our weapons collided,
my sword could not withstand the recoil and broke immediately, so there was no way it could unleash its proper power.
There had been a tremendous shockwave strong enough to kick up dust, but it had failed to inflict much damage.
Tch.
I clicked my tongue once and tossed aside the hilt.
Then I drew Carnwennan, which I had stored in my inventory, once more.
Scaramuccia narrowed his eyes at the Carnwennan in my right hand.
"A dagger."
With that, he thrust his golden lance again.
His target was my right hand holding the dagger.
I reinforced my leg strength with mana once more.
I raised the shield in my left hand, deflected the golden lance, and slipped into his guard.
[Logres Quick Sword Form].
The silver dagger, cloaked in pure-white sword aura, shot forward like a meteor.
Then—
KWAANG—!!!
Scaramuccia kicked away my shield and stopped my approach.
Then he thrust his golden lance at my right hand once more.
I gritted my teeth and caught it with Carnwennan in a reverse grip.
Kagagagagak—!!!
Whenever the shrieking golden lance scraped past Carnwennan,
sparks scattered with a bizarre metallic screech.
What the hell was wrong with this bastard?
Why had he been attacking my right hand this whole time?
I could not understand his actions.
Not my torso, not a vital point.
For some reason, he was targeting only my right hand.
It was almost as if he was after Carnwennan.
But I had no time to think any further.
The golden lance continued to thrust at me.
The terrible vibrations ringing from the lance made it feel as though I was not truly blocking it even when I did.
That was because it continued to shake, and every time we exchanged blows, it felt as though the strength was draining from my grip.
With stats bolstered by both the Holy Maiden’s Blessing and Flower of Chivalry, I had confidence in my grip strength.
But Scaramuccia’s focused assault, combined with that damned shrieking lance, made me feel that if I relaxed even a little, Carnwennan would fly from my hand.
So I discarded stray thoughts, focused only on avoiding the golden lance, and drove Carnwennan toward him.
But—
[Sail Swordsmanship] charged at me once more.
I barely matched the exchange, meeting it with the [Logres Quick Sword Form].
Smack—!!
But as though declaring that Sail Swordsmanship had been a feint, Scaramuccia immediately followed it with a kick, and I ended up dropping Carnwennan from my hand.
"You have let go of your weapon."
As if he had been waiting for it, Scaramuccia laughed and spoke. Using the foot that had kicked my right hand as a pivot, he coated the golden lance in sword aura and swung it sideways.
I concentrated mana into my arm and blocked the attack with Prydwen.
KWA-AAAANG—!!!
A contest between shield and lance.
—Hummm—hummm—!
The fucking vibrations spread from the shield throughout my entire body.
The damage that ignored my defense made it difficult to keep my balance.
And then—
I barely succeeded in deflecting it.
But Scaramuccia drove the lance into the very center of my shield as though hitting a target, then kicked the end of its shaft.
—Cough!
The tremendous impact forced me to spit blood and stagger backward.
Scaramuccia extended a hand toward the fallen golden lance. It was drawn to him like a magnet and flew into his grasp.
"Your armament has been broken and cast aside."
Scaramuccia slowly approached me as he spoke.
"Yes. You no longer have any armament."
For some reason, he looked triumphant as he repeated the word armament twice.
"All knights were the same. The source of their strength came from their weapons. Their weapons were their strength, their lives, their companions."
Walking toward me one step at a time, wearing a twisted smile, he said,
"Holy swords, demonic swords, golden lances. They fought relying solely on such armaments, and the moment they let them leave their hands, they gave up the fight."
Before I knew it, he had entered his attack range.
Holding the golden lance upright, he stared at me.
"Then let me ask you."
Scaramuccia thrust from close range with [Sail Swordsmanship].
"What can you do now, after discarding every weapon you possessed?"
KWA-AAAANG—!!!
I barely blocked his attack by raising my shield.
But—
Scaramuccia’s golden lance came again.
"What remains for you!"
I deflected the golden lance and kicked with mana infused into my leg.
But Scaramuccia pressed down my foot with the butt of his lance, stopping the kick.
"What do those hands that have lost even their weapons hold? Miserable chivalry? Or shamelessness?"
He continued attacking without pause, mocking me all the while.
With the single shield remaining in my hand, I could only receive that monstrous storm and desperately focus on defense. Then he viciously stomped down on my shield.
KWA-AAAAANG—!!!!
A tremendous roar erupted, the air howled, and dust burst upward.
He had stomped hard enough to gouge the ground.
Still—
I had not understood him for a while now.
No weapon, this and that.
What did it matter right now?
"Why would I have no weapon?"
[Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method].
I pushed my limits, storing mana within my body and strengthening it.
[The level of [Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method] has increased to 4!]
Along with the notification that my level had risen, I swung my shield upward.
I drove Prydwen into Scaramuccia’s airborne body.
"Cough!"
Scaramuccia crashed down to the ground, vomiting blood with an incredulous look on his face.
"I have no idea what bullshit you have been spouting this whole time."
If anything, I understood you even less.
I still had my shield.
And I still had a body capable of moving it.
"I have a shield, and my arms have not been cut off. Isn’t that enough?"
If my sword broke, I used a dagger.
If I dropped the dagger, I used a shield.
If my shield broke, I used my body.
My shield had not disappeared, and my limbs had not been severed.
And yet, give up just because I dropped a weapon?
"What kind of knight is that? He is just an idiot."
That would make him a fucking idiot, all right.
I could still fight. It was not time to give up.
There were people behind me whom I had to protect, yet I was supposed to give up merely because I had dropped a weapon?
Then he really was an idiot.
I still had two legs that could walk toward the stars.
I still had these two arms that could reach toward the stars.
I still had a shield that could stand against the stars.
"...I have not fallen yet. So I have not lost."
"Why do you not give up?"
Scaramuccia rose to his feet and asked in a disbelieving voice.
"You have let go of your weapon. You cannot even wound me. So with what do you intend to kill and defeat me?"
"Who knows? I am telling you, if I smack your face with this shield, you will die too."
Scaramuccia gave a disbelieving snort at my words.
"Yes, that shield. It certainly did hurt quite a bit."
Scaramuccia briefly rolled his neck, then stomped his foot once.
Hard, like he was performing a stamping step, perhaps because he wanted to vent his frustration.
Then he sighed and looked at me.
"Why do you not give up? Why, even after letting go of your weapon?"
He pointed the golden lance at me.
"Why do you not hesitate to continue fighting?"
Why was I not stopping this fight?
Wasn’t it simple?
"Because if I do not get rid of you, I cannot keep my promise."
"But if you are going to keep fighting, do not go out of your way to die."
"Then do not die. You can promise me that, right?"
Do not die anymore.
It was not even a promise sealed by linking pinkies.
It was merely a verbal promise.
But—
it was a promise not to die.
A promise entrusted to me by my club friend and squire.
"I was made to promise that I would not die."
"And that is why you intend to fight me even after losing your armament?"
"Isn’t that obvious? They asked me to live, so of course I have to live."
Not some grand cause or lofty justification, but something any person would hold dear if it had been left to them by two women.
For that, I would overcome you.
That was all.
"Do not die..."
Scaramuccia mulled over those words as he looked at me.
"I do not think you will be able to keep that promise."
"You never know until you try."
Well, I was not sure.
I only had enough stamina and mana left for one more big move before I was completely drained.
It was a bluff.
Just empty bravado.
Anyway.
I only needed to hold out until they came—
No. Forget that.
Could I really take him down with such half-hearted resolve?
Throw everything at him. Pour out everything I had.
To keep my promise to her.
I would stake everything on this final strike.
"This is the last one."
Scaramuccia held his golden lance upright once more.
I too raised Prydwen. Using my inventory retrieval ability, I stored the Carnwennan lying nearby in my inventory, then called it back into my right hand.
This exchange would probably decide it.
Just before we collided—
"Heir to Orlando’s will, before I bury you in this fight, let me hear your name one last time."
Scaramuccia spoke first.
The man who had interrupted me when I tried to state my name was now asking for it.
"Ian de Logres."
"Logres. Ian de Logres."
Scaramuccia repeated my name several times.
"I am the coward, the skirmisher, Scaramuccia..."
Then, after taking a breath—
"For this moment, I may remove my mask."
He threw off his mask.
"There is no audience here to watch this farce anyway."
He gave a self-mocking laugh.
"My name is Arghalia. Arghalia of the Katai Kingdom."
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register