Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: Winter Night's Reckoning
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At that moment, in the underground hideout of the Shadow Court within the Marquisate of York.
The war had ended, and Dale, who had secured victory in two Wars of the Roses, was there. Before him was his unforgettable enemy.
The man who had lost the name of the Holy Sword was bound there. No, he was a beast that could no longer be called a ‘person.’
“Squeal, oooiiink!”
The man was clad in the hide of a pig. It was a conceptual armor that had lost all its function, now literally projecting his very psyche. His Aura Heart was already shattered, and all that remained were the dregs of aura, spinning aimlessly without a core.
“Everyone, withdraw.”
Dale spoke. At his command, Master Baro and all the members of the Shadow Court vanished like the wind.
Only Dale and the former Holy Sword Master were left in the court.
“Let’s have a little talk.”
Dale began, leaving the ‘two swords’ slung at an angle on his sword belt behind him.
“You cowardly... oink, oiiink... whelp of Sachsen...!”
The pig-headed man began to struggle madly, awkwardly mimicking a human voice.
“Cowardly?”
Dale repeated, drawing one of the swords from his waist.
It was not the artifact from the Demon Lord’s domain… the jet-black demon sword, ‘Hunger.’ Rather, it was a white blade that shone more brilliantly than anything else.
The old beloved sword of the hero, which Dale had acquired after defeating Mikhail Lancaster that day.
“Peacemaker!”
Readjusting his grip on the hilt, Dale pointed the tip of the blade at the pig-headed man.
“Do you know of the power that resides in this sword?”
Simultaneously, the tip of Peacemaker began to radiate light toward the former Holy Sword Master. Just as the Holy Sword Durandal had, shining particles from the blade’s tip began to envelop the blood-soaked <>.
“It heals wounds, wards off killing intent, and restores what is broken… In a way, it wouldn’t be wrong to call it the ‘twin of the Holy Sword.’”
*Crack!*
Just then, the iron chains binding the former Holy Sword Master began to break.
*Crack, crack!*
The conceptual armor, which should have been nothing more than a pig’s hide, finally began to regain its power and stir. Before long, the fighting spirit of a beast began to emanate from his body.
“Ha, haha…!”
It is impossible for the former Holy Sword Master, whose knightly ‘sinews’ had been severed, to regain his former strength. That would be true even with the healing magic of the White Magic Tower's Master.
However, that only meant he could not regain 100% of his power, not that he was completely unable to wield a sword as a knight.
At the very least, felling a single whelp from Sachsen would be a simple matter.
That was why Dale had restored his body using the power of Peacemaker. The <> could not comprehend this sudden act.
“Take up your sword.”
When Dale then handed him a nameless iron sword, the Count did not hesitate for a moment. He simply shouted, dismissing it as the foolishness of a young man unable to control his hot blood.
“To think you would walk to your own death…!”
No longer the wretched figure from moments ago, a wild boar exuding a beastly fighting spirit stood there.
Simultaneously, the world of a winter’s night engulfed the area.
Still, the <> had no reason to hesitate. He simply kicked off the ground, charging forward and unleashing his final burst of energy.
The distance closed in an instant. The warrior’s sword swung. *Clang!* Dale’s Peacemaker parried the blow. At the same time, an abomination from another world materialized at Dale’s side.
“...!”
Immediately after, jet-black tentacles coiled around Dale’s body and burst. Black blood splattered, and through that dark blood, the Shadow Lord’s avatar revealed itself. Armor of black blood, a body made of shadow.
The Black Prince was there.
“How can a mage have an... an avatar!”
The moment he saw it, the Count’s expression froze solid.
The Shadow Lord kicked off the ground and surged forward, readjusting his grip on the Peacemaker in his hand.
*Clang!*
The Shadow Lord's sword swung with a spirit that was utterly incomparable to before.
At the same time, from atop the black armor, countless jet-black spikes began to sprout like liquid metal.
“...!”
*Stab!*
Like a shadow cloak, the armor of dark blood shifted its form at will, performing a technique that blended offense and defense. The Count hastily created distance, but the spikes of black blood sprouting from the armor were already digging into the pig’s flesh.
“Oooiiink!”
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was impossible. It should not be possible.
An unavoidable darkness was approaching. It was then.
“—Do you remember that winter’s night?”
From within the armor of dark blood, which was impaling him with hundreds of black spikes, came a voice that was utterly unfamiliar. It wasn't Dale's faintly youthful voice.
“W-What did you say?”
Once again, something sprouted from the armor of dark blood. Not spikes, but tentacles meant to bind his body. The tentacles wrapped around the Count’s limbs and began to constrict, tight enough to break bones.
Again, the sound of a pig being slaughtered echoed.
Could that truly be called armor? It was, in itself, another sword.
“What in the world is this...”
The Count muttered weakly amidst the pain. He had heard enough praise for the greatest genius of the Empire, Dale of Sachsen, to be sick of it. He also knew that the reality of the ‘Black Prince’ was a monster beyond what people imagined.
But what Dale was showing now was something that surpassed even the realm of monsters.
He couldn't think of any words to describe this being.
“Do you think you can get away with killing a proud war hero of the Empire...!”
“Oh, really?”
*Stab!*
It happened in that instant. A searing pain erupted from the former Holy Sword Master’s back. It was the cold touch of steel. He could see the tip of Peacemaker’s blade protruding from his chest.
“Have you already forgotten that the proud hero of the Empire died with a sword in his back?”
Just like that winter’s night. How could he forget? The pieces of the puzzle in his mind finally clicked into place.
From the very beginning, what the ‘Black Prince’ possessed was not mere talent.
“It can’t be, no, it can’t be…”
The boar’s face froze, turning as white as the depths of a winter’s night.
And right there, the ‘Shadow Lord’ spoke.
“There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Your Empire gained a peace without price through me, and now the time has come to pay that price.”
The former Holy Sword Master weakly turned his head toward his back.
“The House of Count Brandenburg will be inherited by that fool Phillip, and it will be our House Sachsen, not York, that controls him. Can you roughly imagine the ruin that awaits the future of the house you’re so proud of?”
The ‘Hero from Another World,’ wrapped in the armor of dark blood, was there. Yet, the former Holy Sword Master could say nothing. He could only let out a sound like the wind as his soul escaped him.
“It was fucking awful working with you. Let’s never see each other again.”
The Hero from Another World said. And those were the last words between the two.
***
“Damn, I can already picture the White Magic Tower foaming at the mouth and throwing a fit.”
Master Baro said, standing before the Holy Sword’s corpse. Seeing this, Dale muttered as if it were someone else's problem.
“What does it matter?”
***
“Lady Sephia.”
At the York Marquis's castle, Dale knocked cautiously on the door of the room where Sephia was staying.
“...Come in.”
Sephia soon answered, and Dale bowed his head carefully.
“The preparations to return to the Duchy of Sachsen are complete.”
Putting that day’s events behind him, he had secured victory in two Wars of the Roses. Now it was time for the ‘Black Prince,’ as Viscount Sachsen, to return to the Demon Lord’s domain and fulfill his duties.
With the elf Sephia, who always stood by his side.
Nothing was supposed to change. At least, he wanted to believe so.
“I don’t know what I should say to you.”
But upon hearing Sephia’s reply, Dale instantly understood its meaning.
“...Are you leaving the Ducal House?”
Dale asked, and Sephia smiled bitterly.
“Please, do not forgive me.”
“It’s not your fault, Lady Sephia.”
“Yes, thank you for saying so.”
He knew. Yet, even knowing, Sephia’s resolve did not change.
“Then why are you leaving my side?”
Dale asked again. Sephia did not answer immediately. But Dale soon shook his head. The Sephia before him was no longer a puppet who would move according to his will.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Sephia quickly shook her head at Dale’s words. A silence fell between them.
“Will I be able to see you again?”
After the silence, Dale asked cautiously. Sephia managed a smile and nodded.
“I promise we will meet again.”
At those words, a faint smile finally appeared on Dale’s face.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Dale said with a smile, suppressing the desire to embrace and kiss her right then and there, striving to maintain his composure.
“Thank you for everything, Teacher Sephia.”
“I, too, was able to learn so much from you.”
Sephia smiled. She had already finished preparing for the journey she would take alone.
“Please be careful.”
Dale said. Sephia smiled without a word and began to walk away on her own. As Sephia’s back grew distant, Dale did not turn away.
Long after Sephia had left, Dale remained in silent contemplation.
Pushing aside the piercing chill and loneliness in his heart, he stood alone, impassive.
***
Some time later.
Having achieved victory in two Wars of the Roses, yet remaining silent about his officially unacknowledged exploits in the ‘Second War of the Roses’… Dale returned to his domain.
He shared the spoils he had won with his father, Lord Black, and tried to push aside the emptiness left by Sephia.
As ‘Viscount Sachsen,’ ruler of the Demon Lord’s domain, the northern pioneering project was also proceeding smoothly.
Although Mikhail Lancaster had lost his life at Dale’s hands, the alliance between Sachsen and Lancaster against the demons was also honored. At least in the eyes of the Heavenly Sword, Archduke Lancaster, it was the witches of York who had taken his son’s life.
At the same time, the Red Magic Tower also threw in their lot with the grand cause of the anti-demon alliance and headed for the northern domain.
Around that time, as Titania of York had promised, an envoy from the Blue Magic Tower came to the northern Demon Lord’s domain to convene the ‘Sorceress Council.’ Even if Sephia was no longer a member of the Ducal House of Sachsen, there was no room for hesitation on Dale’s part.
***
‘Officially,’ the Holy Sword, Count Brandenburg, was rescued by his son, Phillip.
However, by the time Phillip rescued him, the Count’s injuries were already irreversible, and he ultimately met his end at the hands of the ‘Black Prince.’
Along with the shattering of the holy relic of the first Master of the White Magic Tower, the Holy Sword Durandal.
The White Magic Tower was not one to stand by and watch this happen.
The shifting political landscape of the continent was steadily changing, the fuse burning, on the verge of an explosion.