Chapter 44
I looked at Aria.
She was a complete mess.
Same as last time. And this time, too.
I couldn't protect you completely.
I always leave you covered in wounds.
I'm sorry.
Truly.
Was it because I couldn't control my anger?
Azazel's expression darkened slightly.
She looked miserable.
Trembling all over, Azazel began to speak.
“It's my fault. If only I'd stopped Aria from following me, if only I hadn't lost to that tin can.”
Thump.
I placed a hand on her small head.
Would she get angry, calling me rude and saying she didn't like it?
Surprisingly, she was docile.
Azazel's wavering eyes looked up at me.
You weren't so different, either.
You'd wrapped yourself in a prickly shell because you didn't want to show your inner weakness.
Even if that shell hurt someone, you couldn't take it off.
You must have been afraid of exposing your weak, soft interior.
“It's all right.”
Perhaps she hadn't expected me to say that; her red eyes widened.
“Look after Aria's wounds.”
“Y-yeah.”
Azazel staggered toward Aria.
Even a mage knew healing magic.
Especially Azazel Anaid.
I could leave it to her.
Don't worry.
I exhaled.
Then looked.
At the man wearing scorched, frost-covered armor.
At the holy sword in his hand.
The prickling in my skin wasn't just because of the cold.
The pressure, oppression, and presence emanating from that man.
A being who encompassed death itself.
Perhaps someone whose blade had even reached the Demon King's neck.
A true Hero, ‘recognized’ by the holy sword.
-Are you done?
He'd been waiting.
For none other than me.
My head was burning.
I took up the holy sword.
A holy sword exists alone.
That's why it's ‘the holy sword.’
How could there be multiple holy swords?
Such trivialities didn't matter.
What mattered was that Aria had been hurt,
and I hadn't been able to stop it.
“Thanks for waiting.”
My words came out without a tremor.
That was only natural; I'd suppressed my anger as it surged to its limit.
Calm, yet not calm.
-What are you waiting for? Get over here. Do you have to wait until those girls are dead?
A pathetic provocation.
Even knowing that, I gripped the holy sword too tightly.
Getting worked up was no good.
The tip of my sword would waver, my precision would suffer, and my vision would narrow.
Look at me now.
I could see nothing but you.
What good would it do to say things like ‘I won't forgive you’ or ‘I'll kill you’?
What meaning was there in uttering such empty words?
I quietly swallowed my smoldering hostility.
I swallowed the emotion as it burned and burned and burned, burning me like a log in a fire.
“It'll be different this time.”
Last time, I'd been beaten miserably.
Saying it was because I'd let my guard down meant nothing.
Lose, and you die.
Once you're dead, it's over.
In my undeserved good fortune, I'd had a ‘next time.’
I knew my opponent wasn't someone to take lightly.
I'd already experienced that firsthand.
-I hope so.
Knowing that, I steeled my resolve.
I would go all out from the start.
I loosened my grip on the holy sword slightly.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
As we moved, the distance between us kept shrinking.
I gradually picked up speed.
I raced through space.
And at a certain point, I clashed with the former Hero.
Clang!
The clang of metal rang out.
Holy sword met holy sword.
Heavy.
Facing him, I understood it in my bones.
As we struggled for strength with our swords locked, his blade came for my flank.
It writhed like a snake.
The same pattern as before.
If I let it happen, I'd be taken down in an instant.
Did he think I was so easy that he could use the same pattern twice?
I grabbed his chainmail gauntlet.
I tried to slam him to the ground, but he seemed to read my intention and tried to throw me instead.
If I let this continue, he'd use my strength against me.
I couldn't let that happen.
I pushed him away with my left foot.
Our crossed blades parted, and he stepped back.
KANG!
I'd assumed too hastily that he'd retreated.
His sword came for my head in an instant.
Fast, and without a wasted motion.
If I hadn't hurriedly pulled my sword back, I'd have lost my head.
It was a strike that made my hair—and even the fine hairs on my body—stand on end.
His skill was no ordinary thing.
But I didn't just stand there admiring him.
I moved my sword.
CLANG!
He was faster than before.
KANG!
I barely kept up.
Clang!
He gradually accelerated.
CLANG!
This time, it was a close call.
My sword was crying out.
The former Hero pressed me relentlessly.
Growing fiercer and fiercer, like a wave.
My waist, wrist, shoulder, solar plexus.
He went for my vitals at will.
I was too busy parrying.
It grew harder to respond, and minor wounds began to accumulate.
The former Hero's skill was overwhelming.
It felt as if I were fighting my master.
In swordsmanship, strength, and tactical thinking, he was several moves ahead.
I was thoroughly outmatched in every respect.
Before I knew it, I was rolling across the ground.
His sword swiftly pursued me.
I swung the holy sword upward from below.
It was a bad move.
My stance was off balance, putting a strain on my body and keeping me from putting any real strength into the blow.
KWAANG!
The holy sword spun through the air in an arc.
He wasn't the sort to let that opening pass.
A chill ran through me.
I desperately moved my body, burdened by the strain.
A long gouge was carved into the ground where I'd just been rolling.
I barely dodged.
I used the magic I'd learned from Azazel to blow up the ground beneath his feet.
But as if he'd foreseen it, he dodged effortlessly and closed in.
The holy sword that had flown away was still far off.
I had no way to deal with his sword strikes.
I stamped my foot and forcibly raised the terrain.
I wasn't as skilled as Azazel, but I could use it to some extent.
From his perspective, the ground must have suddenly surged upward.
Slice.
He cut through the protruding earthen wall like a sheet of paper.
It couldn't even buy me a few seconds.
But that short time was enough to retrieve the holy sword.
I grabbed it again and swung to defend myself.
KANG!
The mighty sword strike drove me sliding backward.
-Pathetic parlor tricks. Are you a Hero or a squirrel?
Grit.
I'd recovered the holy sword, but I'd used up too much strength.
We faced off at a suitable distance.
His breathing wasn't even ragged.
I was the only one panting.
The former Hero spoke.
-It's a shame. So, are you going to cut down the Demon King's fingernails or something?
“You sure talk a lot for someone who won't be doing the cutting.”
-I can't understand why Carelin chose someone with such a light sword to be a Hero.
He'd said that the first time we fought, too.
That I had a light sword for a Hero.
How ridiculous.
What did it even mean for a sword to be light?
“Unlike you, who's already complete, I'm still growing.”
-Do you think such a crude excuse will work between life and death?
Was he saying that wasn't nearly enough?
I ground my teeth.
“Are you lecturing me?”
-If you'd stopped me, those girls wouldn't have been hurt. Isn't that right? You need to take your defeat seriously. You're a Hero. You mustn't lose to anyone.
It was almost an obsession.
Which made it laughable.
“For a former Hero, shouldn't you have a little more composure?”
He laughed.
-I told you before.
He moved.
-Defeat me. Otherwise, you'll die.
His sword came toward me.
KWAANG!
My body was shoved backward.
He was fiercer, more ferocious, and stronger than before.
Had he been holding back?
-Not you, but the things precious to you will disappear before your eyes.
I won't let that happen.
I wouldn't let them slip through my hands like before.
I had changed.
I'd lived to change.
Here, I would prove that I was different from when I lost my sister.
He took up a stance.
SSSSSH.
I felt a thick killing intent.
I savored the feeling of being prey before a predator.
I can't win.
He was an absolute being.
I couldn't resist.
Fragmentary, negative emotions gnawed at my mind, slowing my actions.
I shook my head.
When had I ever only fought battles I could win?
“You think I'd lose just because you said that?”
I wouldn't lose.
I charged, as if trying to shake off my stiff legs and my frightened self.
A stance as solid as a castle wall.
Not a single opening.
If I moved carelessly, he'd counterattack.
I knew.
I knew, but charging in was who I was.
My way was to hammer away relentlessly and force my way through a gap.
KANG!
Holy sword clashed with holy sword.
The sword let out a cry.
I moved my arms faster than before.
He countered everything.
I couldn't keep testing him like this.
I needed one heavy blow.
I gathered light into the holy sword.
The holy sword pulsed black.
He gathered blue light as well.
The holy sword blazed blue.
Black and blue faced off.
The moment our swords collided, a tremendous sound erupted like a bomb going off.
The violent recoil sent my body flying.
How many meters was I flying?
I was dizzy.
‘Where is he?’
He chased after me as I flew through the air.
I was already dizzy, and he showed no mercy.
His holy sword blazed blue.
Come on, then. Let's see what you've got.
I gathered light into my sword, too.
We clashed again in midair.
KWA-AAANG!
Both of us landed safely on the ground.
The blue flames on his sword still shone.
They hadn't gone out.
Then neither would mine.
I couldn't let it go out.
If the former Hero could do it, then so could I.
I was a Hero, too.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Each time sword met sword, an explosion erupted.
Like fireworks, they lit up the dark night.
My arm broke.
It didn't matter.
Several of my ribs were broken.
It didn't matter.
My leg twisted out of place, too.
It didn't matter.
Blood rose all the way to my throat.
It didn't matter.
Blood from my split head ran into my eyes, blurring my vision.
It didn't matter.
I didn't let go of my sword.
Not my sword.
-Your will to endure is admirable, but the fact remains that you're losing.
It was frustrating, but that bastard was right.
There were no variables.
No matter how many times I pushed my body to its limit and caught up, he quickly raised the bar again.
You made it this far?
Then I'll go higher.
You're catching up again?
Fine. Let's see if you can handle this.
That was how it went.
Did that man even have a limit?
“I won't lose.”
I couldn't lose here.
If I lost, who would protect them?
Those who had something to protect had to grow stronger.
They had to be strong.
Otherwise, they couldn't protect anyone.
They'd lose what they had.
-In that state? You're little more than a walking corpse.
My mouth tasted of metal.
There wasn't a single part of me uninjured.
-This generation's Hero is pathetic. Carelin was wrong after all.
He remained utterly at ease.
His reaction was so casual.
I felt nausea rise.
“Cough.”
I wanted to argue, but my condition made it difficult.
He raised his sword.
And just before he brought it down.
A fierce voice rang out.
“Shut up!”
The sword stopped.
The former Hero tilted his head as if puzzled and looked behind him.
-……?
A black-haired woman stood there.
She wasn't standing entirely on her own.
Her whole body was covered in blood, and Azazel was supporting her.
Even so, her eyes didn't waver.
“Don't you presume to judge him.”
Her tone was even.
“Pathetic? Not at all.”
Unwavering, like steadfast faith.
“Ain is greater than any other Hero.”
There was faith in her.
“You'd never lose to the likes of him.”
Those words.
That faith.
They were so very heavy.
“That's what she says.”
Strength flowed through my body.
I felt strength return to me.
It'd be a shame to lose after getting encouragement like that.
At the same time, the holy sword began to shine.
-Oh.
Was that admiration, or a sigh?
The shape of the holy sword in my hand changed.
My wounds healed.
“I can't lose yet, you bastard.”
Round two begins.