Chapter 77
Chapter 77
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Proven
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I've proven it.
Extreme God Single Sword wasn't a swordsmanship that pursued upright honor.
It was a killing sword close to pursuing ultimate practicality.
Its foundation was speed.
It was just like me.
"Extreme Sword."
Extreme God Single Sword, First Form.
A simple slash, but one that unified mind and body to condense all power in an instant and unleash it—a basic technique.
The killing sword, tempered by regret, drew a single trajectory through the darkness.
Kaang!
A heavy impact transmitted to the arm that blocked the sword.
This was the third time clashing swords with Aren.
The first was during the entrance exam.
The gap in Shards had triggered Instant Kill.
The second was the first day of enrollment.
The 2v2 spar ended inconclusively when weapons shattered.
And now.
A reddish-black aura rippled along Savior's blade.
A one-track offensive setup, all-in on at least Tier 3 red and black Shards.
Kak! Kagak!
Swords clashed, ringing with metallic sounds.
Aren's voice overlaid it.
"Wouldn't it have been better to dodge?"
"You're right."
I had thought about dodging.
With my fluidity stats, I could've dodged with room to spare.
But humans are animals of adaptation.
Having been immersed in turn-based combat for too long, the word "evade" had long vanished from my mind.
This world had gaslit me into believing that absorbing the impact and counterattacking was more effective than dodging and resetting stance.
I deflected her sword and retreated.
I'd only blocked one strike, yet my arm was already numb.
But Aren gave me no time to breathe.
She closed the distance again, swinging her sword in a straight line.
Second Form: No-Self.
An unpredictable slashing trajectory split into multiple afterimages, assaulting from all directions.
'So this is Aren's Extreme God Single Sword.'
Even in the original story, there were frequent events fighting Extreme God Single Sword users.
One of the bishops was a user, and there were events sparring with the Knight Commander or true masters.
But no events where the protagonist fought them.
Kaang! Kagagak!
Block one slash, and the next slipped through the gaps in empty space.
The more I blocked, the more the impacts accumulated in my arms.
'Dodge!'
My head knew it.
At this rate, my arms would break first.
But instinct commanded otherwise.
'Endure it.'
Everything from Aren.
I'd been the one to tell her to prove it.
She was proving herself to me, and I had to prove the path I'd walked.
In Halibal Dungeon, the first thing I'd tried was facing Barhatan's spinning strike head-on.
I couldn't use Just Guard against Barhatan.
What about now?
After dozens, hundreds of attempts, I'd succeeded in Just Guarding all five spins of Barhatan's rotating strike.
Hwiiik! Kagaang!
Drawing on that memory, I twisted my waist, deliberately opening a gap.
It was a trap.
Aren's slash dove in like a snake, seizing the moment.
The tip of the slash was crystal clear.
'Now!'
Kaaang!
A clear bursting sound rang out, and gray light exploded at the clash point.
Just Guard.
With the lead slash shattered, all following afterimages lost vitality and scattered into the air.
"...How?"
Her bewilderment.
Now it was my turn.
Kuuuk.
I coiled my whole body's energy into my thighs like a spring.
Chronodive.
Kwaang!
I kicked off the ground and charged at Aren.
Gale Rush.
The onslaught of slashes—Aren blocked or parried by crossing her arms.
"...Kuh!"
A groan escaped her lips.
But her fluster didn't last.
She stepped back with her right foot, lowering her stance.
Her sword was already sheathed.
"You're strong, as expected. But I can't back down here. Never."
The sword in its sheath roared ferociously, as if ready to burst forth.
"I'll show you. The sword I've forged staking everything."
Wuuung!
Extreme God Single Sword, Third Form—the one and only draw technique.
As far as I knew, Aren's strongest art at this point.
"Severing Fate."
Swish!
A single line of pure white etched through the darkness.
An eerie sensation as if space itself split in two, and everything on that line severed at once.
'...Insane.'
Admiration burst inwardly.
A perfect form without any excess.
Perhaps cleaner than the original Aren's.
In the original, Severing Fate was a double-edged sword of an art.
A charge-up technique impractical for boss fights, while Second Form No-Self was better for mobs, and Fourth Form Heaven Shatter for bosses.
But to me now, with player eyes and swordsman's vision combined, it was clear.
That Severing Fate was the one technique in Extreme God Single Sword made without regard for gender.
And that the Aren before me had honed this one technique to its extreme.
I realized it simultaneously.
This was a curse.
A curse forcing her to desperately cram herself into the prophecy, even knowing she wasn't the Child of Prophecy.
Why she was a woman, and why the prophecy hadn't changed—I still didn't know.
But her perfect Severing Fate looked to me like the noose tightening around her life.
"This ends it. Halibal Belder."
A lifetime of effort, desperation to meet expectations.
A single sword-line woven with the sorrow of self-denial.
Witnessing it, a sensation I'd never felt in my life burrowed into my mind.
⁎⁎⁎
A dusty warehouse came into view.
The door was barred tight—no sign of opening no matter how hard it was pulled.
I'd vaguely thought it might open once I entered the dungeon with Minena or Alicia.
Apparently not.
Kwaang!!
Aren's Severing Fate reduced the warehouse to splinters, revealing a huddled black-haired girl inside.
Hands thick with calluses.
Skin crusted with scabs.
Yet she swung her sword with trembling hands.
The girl's eyes overlapped with Aren's.
This girl must be the curse binding Aren.
I slowly extended my hand toward the huddled girl.
Only then did a faint light enter the girl's hollow eyes.
The moment her hand tentatively grasped mine.
[New art unlocked through growth.]
When I came to, Severing Fate was still hurtling toward me.
In time that felt eternal.
My body moved on its own.
I sheathed the sword I held.
Click.
Left foot back, stance lowered.
Right hand lightly gripped the hilt.
Corner Slash, Return Light, Gale Rush.
All arts I'd created so far were improvisations blending inspirations from others' swordsmanship.
This time was different.
Aren's form was so perfect that the subtleties of the technique within shone clearly.
The Severing Fate I'd used countless times in the original game overlapped with the one she'd poured everything into before me.
A new sword was born.
"Extreme God Single Sword, My Style."
"You... no way...?"
If the protagonist was bound and unable to advance.
I'd flip it over.
Prophecy, the protagonist herself.
Whatever it was.
"Severing Fate. Reverse."
The sheathed sword let out a cry.
Swish!
The instant Aren's sword traced a white line.
Mine drew a gray line as it was drawn.
The two sword-lines met at one point.
They coiled around each other like snakes, then evaporated into the air without a trace.
Desolation alone remained on Aren's face, having poured everything out.
Recoil from awakening a new art?
Mental exhaustion so severe she could barely stand, leaning on her sheath.
But what needed doing remained.
I stepped toward Aren, frozen in daze.
That face.
Clearly still out of it.
Expression stiff like a broken robot.
Usually, those snap out of it with a smack.
Right fist clenched tight.
Eyes fixed on Aren's face.
'This makes three times, huh.'
As I raised my fist toward her.
"...Mean."
"What?"
"...You're too mean."
Huh?
"Too meantoomeantoomeantoomeantoomeantoomean...!!"
"...Hold on."
"Why? Why...! Do you know how hard I tried?!!"
Tension drained away.
With those words, Aren burst into wails, burying her face in my chest.
"I... I gave up everything! I abandoned living as a woman and swung my sword until my hands bled...! Believing only in that one phrase, that I had to become the Child of Prophecy...!"
Thud. Thud. Thud.
She pounded my chest with small fists in succession.
It didn't hurt.
"But what are you? I devoted my life and barely mastered it, so why do you pull it off so easily...! This is too much...!!"
"Um..."
"And you're a guy taking Extreme God Single Sword too... too meantoomeantoomeantoomeantoomean...!!"
Aren exploded.
Venting all the pent-up resentment of a lifetime—in a slightly different sense.
My shoulder area grew damp with tears, snot, saliva.
Ah, this shirt I just washed yesterday.
Tricky.
I knew how to hunt Evil Gods, but not how to soothe a sulking genderbent original protagonist.
Hmm.
"Hueeeeng...!!"
I reached out and patted Aren's back gently.
"Uwaaaaaang...!!"
Ah, not this.
Seeing her cry so heartbreakingly, thoughts of physical therapy vanished.
"Wait, hold on. Calm down first."
"Hic..."
Aren's face was a mess of tears and snot.
After a while, she calmed and slumped limply.
I offered her the water I'd brought.
"Honestly... after losing to you in the entrance exam, I've been jealous of you ever since. You'd already cleared the Beast Dungeon by then, after all."
"There were plenty of other students like that. Nothing special."
"I was different from them. But up to then, it was fine. I was still the one who best fit the prophecy's conditions in the world."
Aren let out a feeble laugh.
"But after you cleared the Doll Dungeon... I got anxious. Anyone could see you pulling ahead."
"It was temporary. Good luck too. No guarantee it'll continue."
She looked up at the sky.
"And then we end up in the same dorm."
"...Sorry about that."
"Every day seeing you twisted my guts—I thought I'd die. I tried not to show it."
Was that so?
Hadn't noticed at all.
I'd probably have been happy if Aren did things for me.
"...Now even the conditions match."
"What I used wasn't Extreme God Single Sword."
"Other seniors would call it Extreme God Single Sword anyway."
"I didn't learn it formally, so I'm no disciple."
"Who knows. That depends on the master's judgment."
'The core of the prophecy is Heavenly Extreme God.'
Extreme God Single Sword could be taught away, but Heavenly Extreme God still dwelled in Aren's body.
So even with the woman variable, I still thought she was the Child of Prophecy.
If not.
"Maybe the prophecy itself is wrong?"
"That'd mean my master was wrong. She glimpsed the world's truths with her sword. Impossible."
Her voice held absolute faith in her master.
I decided not to challenge that faith further.
"What now?"
"Go apologize to Cecilia."
"Figured as much?"
"Yeah. Apologize sincerely. No excuses or reasons—just sorry."
"But you know."
Aren turned to me.
"She hates me. Even without this incident, she's picked fights plenty of times."
"She's got a strong personality."
"It's because of you. You living in my dorm. I didn't know why she was so hostile before, but now that I know she knew I was a woman... it makes sense."
Then she let out a deep sigh.
"Honestly, living with you has more downsides than upsides."
"Like?"
"...You're asking because you don't know? You wander around the room buck naked all the time."
"Not buck naked. I wear pants."
"After training, the sweat stench is no joke. For example..."
Aren suddenly buried her nose in my chest and inhaled deeply.
Her hot breath touched my skin.
"...This smell."
"...You know and still sniff?"
"Means you need some awareness."
With that, Aren fell silent for a while.
Just leaning her head on my chest, still.
Only after a long moment did she mutter in a relieved tone.
"In the end... proof failed, huh."
"No."
"What?"
"If your swordsmanship wasn't perfect, I couldn't have imitated it."
"...You really think that?"
She lifted her head.
Her eyes were welling up again.
How did someone who cried so easily hide it so well?
"Yeah."
I grasped her hand in return, and faint hope glimmered in her tear-filled eyes.
She yielded to my touch meekly.
Her hand wasn't soft by any means.
Like mine, thick calluses bulged on hers.
I pulled out what I'd meant to give her originally and placed it in her palm.
[Abyss Core - Sun Shine].
In the original, Aren equipped this and overcame all crises, ultimately defeating the Evil God.
I'd cleared that game multiple times.
So I knew.
No matter the changed appearance, the changed gender.
No one knew better than me that Aren Bright had proven herself time and again.
"You proved it long ago."
The girl.
She set down the sword she held to the ground.