94
Chapter 94
Balzac furrowed his brow as he looked at the man before him.
Pure white hair.
Golden flames dwelled within those gleaming blue eyes.
And the sword held in his hand.
Along with the brilliant radiance flowing from it.
All of these things pointed to a single undeniable fact. Thus, his face was soon dyed with astonishment.
'...I simply can't believe it.'
The Holy Sword was cut in half.
It had even been corrupted, becoming an item no one could use anymore.
Moreover, it wasn't just the Holy Sword that had gone awry.
The corpse of the Former Hero, who had received all sorts of Blessings and divine protection in life and was connected to the God of Light.
That connection had now become a shackle, being used to control the God of Light through various devices and Spell Formulas.
The God of Light could no longer even Bless the Hero.
It was definitely supposed to be that way.
Yet the missing Holy Sword had not only regained its form, albeit imperfectly, but it had also been Purified.
The God of Light was in no condition to grant his protection anymore.
Even so, he could feel an immense amount of Divine Power emanating from that man.
What stood before him was a Hero in name and in truth.
A being that should never have appeared again had revealed itself right before his eyes.
The light of that sword.
The golden flames dwelling in his eyes.
They remained vividly etched in his mind, which had not undergone memory alteration.
If there was one thing he couldn't understand, it was...
"......Just who exactly are you?"
That bastard's identity.
He had never seen that face before.
He wondered if the man was someone related to the Predecessor, but he couldn't find any connection to that guy at all.
Because of that, Balzac asked while radiating Bloodlust.
But no answer returned.
As if he couldn't even feel such Bloodlust, the man simply walked towards him slowly.
The clear emotion of anger contained within those eyes.
Thinking about the current situation... it was easy to guess what had made that man so angry.
'Is he that woman's comrade?'
Those acting skills.
There must have been a smoother way to handle the situation. Yet she had chosen to sacrifice herself, unwilling to risk even the slightest danger.
Seeing that, he had guessed she was hiding something important.
But he never expected it to be related to the Hero.
"...It seems you have no intention of talking to me."
Touching that woman must have really struck a nerve, as he was glaring at him while radiating Bloodlust.
Seeing that, it seemed impossible to win him over.
"Well, it doesn't matter."
He hadn't expected to be able to sweet-talk that bastard from the very beginning.
Such a thing wasn't his specialty anyway.
What stood before him was an undeniable enemy.
If so, what they needed to exchange wasn't pointless conversation, but swords.
"Come."
There was no reason to hesitate anymore.
*****
The man before me took his stance and steadied his breathing. Just that alone seemed to make everything around us tremble.
A realm far beyond that of any human.
Having surpassed Sword-Soul Unity, he had become one with the world to the point where he couldn't distinguish between himself and his surroundings.
......I knew that. But he was certainly not an easy opponent.
The Mana in the atmosphere.
Even the Mana dwelling within my own body was being controlled by him.
This was why fighting a Sword Master in close quarters was suicide.
Unless one had reached the level of an Archmage, Mana would always take his side.
But.......
Even so, I kicked off the ground and charged at him.
A moment of bewilderment flickered across his face.
Thinking about it, it was only natural.
Unleashing such power without even using Mana Reinforcement was absolutely impossible under normal circumstances.
But I was different.
'I never needed something like Mana in the first place.'
Without even forming a Circle. I had learned how to reinforce my body with Mana, but I hadn't reached a high level in that either.
So being unable to use Mana wasn't much of a disadvantage for me.
On the contrary, this bizarre body exerted abnormal strength even without a trace of Mana.
With nothing but basic physical strength and no assistance whatsoever, it possessed enough power to stand against superhumans who had reinforced their bodies with Mana.
I hadn't fully mastered controlling the wings yet. But honestly, complex maneuvers weren't necessary.
Just forward.
All I needed to think about was charging at him faster than anything else.
A fleeting moment lasting less than 0.1 seconds.
In that span, the distance between us closed.
I swung my sword without hesitation.
But that monster-like bastard executed a perfect counter even in that split second.
A thunderous roar echoed.
His sword and mine clashed.
A sword swung by a Sword Master-level powerhouse with all of his aura poured into it.
And a sword swung haphazardly by someone with less than six months of swordsmanship experience.
How this match should have ended was obvious. A Sword Master's Sword Aura could effortlessly slice through even Artifacts imbued with mystic power.
Yet despite that.
Not a single scratch appeared on my sword.
He gritted his teeth and glared at me.
He looked like he simply couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
But this outcome was only natural.
This was a sword prepared for the protagonist.
The center of this world.
It was an item prepared for such a being.
Even if it had been broken once, the power contained within it would never change.
No matter how powerful and fierce his Sword Aura might be, such things had no effect before the Holy Sword.
My oath.
As long as my will remained unbroken, the Holy Sword would never break.
Naturally, it could never lose to any sword.
"Just what the hell are you..."
I ignored his babbling. Squeezing out every ounce of my strength, I continued to push him back.
He desperately tried to create some distance while blocking my strikes.
His face was contorted with shame.
He had finally realized it.
That he could never win in a head-on clash of strength.
From afar, he began recklessly firing his Sword Aura at me.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of slashes came surging toward me.
Attacks that would obviously tear my body to shreds if they even grazed me. Yet, all of them were entirely useless.
'I might be a stranger to him.'
But unfortunately for him, the same wasn't true for me.
A ridiculously hard difficulty. The Hidden Boss whose attack patterns had given me so much trouble to decipher. I at least knew how he went about attacking his opponents.
No, it went beyond just knowing—I had all of it memorized.
Combine that with the mobility granted by my wings.
Naturally, his attacks couldn't even touch me.
Seeing me dodge all thousands of slashes without a single scratch, he ground his teeth loudly.
"Just what kind of cowardly trick did you use?"
Balzac asked with a face stained with rage.
He asked me how I knew his swordsmanship. Everyone who had seen it should have died. He claimed that a situation like this was impossible.
"...So the so-called Hero knows nothing of honor."
He immediately brought up honor the moment he was put at a disadvantage.
There wasn't a hint of a true Knight about him. But honestly, that was probably to be expected.
If he were truly someone who valued honor and sought to uphold chivalry, he would never have sided with the Empire.
No matter how much he tried to dress it up, he was nothing more than a thug.
A despicable man who butchered anyone he didn't like under the guise of a duel, packaging it as an honorable match.
I was thinking that when...
I suddenly realized.
What that bastard was about to do.
"If that's how it is, then I have no reason to hold back either."
Saying that, he fired a powerful Sword Aura.
But the direction it was headed wasn't toward me.
He had launched a slash toward Rubia, who was tied up.
I gritted my teeth and stood in front of her to block it.
A Sword Aura carrying his full intent to kill.
I canceled it out with everything I had and deflected it.
But naturally, that process took a certain amount of time...
And that damn bastard didn't miss that opening.
Once again, thousands of slashes came surging toward me.
*****
The devastated mansion.
The dust settled before long, and the sight of that infuriating man finally entered Balzac's vision.
Just how tenacious was his life?
He was still standing, supporting his body with his sword, refusing to fall.
He had taken those slashes head-on, yet he had still protected that woman to the very end.
But... that futile struggle ended here.
Utilizing bizarre powers and unfathomable methods to read all of his sword techniques.
He wouldn't be able to pull off such tricks anymore.
Balzac swiftly drove his sword into the boy's heart.
In the end, this battle concluded with his victory.
Shamefully.
He had to stain his honor by resorting to less than honorable means to achieve it.
But it couldn't be helped.
He had no choice but to counter dirty tricks with dirty tricks.
Thinking such thoughts, Balzac pulled his sword from the boy's heart.
He had a lot to report.
With that, Balzac picked up the unconscious woman and left the mansion.
...No.
He tried to leave.
A laugh echoed.
A laugh that grated heavily on his nerves.
"......Why are you laughing?"
The match was already decided.
Whatever that bastard spouted, it was nothing more than the pointless ramblings of a loser.
There was no need to listen to the dying words of someone about to croak.
Even knowing that fact.
For some reason, that laugh really annoyed him.
"You know? You just made the worst possible choice."
Just as expected.
What came out of his mouth was complete nonsense.
It had to be.
It was clearly nonsense.
"Well, don't think it's unfair. You're the one who played dirty first, anyway."
No blood flowed.
He had clearly pierced the heart. Yet no blood seeped from the wound.
Heart, muscles, skin.
Everything Regenerated as if it were an illusion.
"If you used a cowardly trick first, you should at least be prepared to get hit by one too."
A burning sound could be heard.
The black Amulet hanging around his neck.
It was burning with an ominous light.
A massive shadow loomed over the man.
A dreadful presence seeped from beyond it.
Something....
Something terrible was heading this way.
"Just what the hell did you do?"
Balzac asked, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Sneering at the sight, the man opened his mouth.
"Still don't get it?"
The man drew the Holy Sword once again.
As if the life-or-death struggle from earlier had never happened. Looking perfectly fine, without a single scratch.
Even... with three companions by his side.
"Phase 2 starts now, you motherfucker."