96
Chapter 96
Hazy consciousness.
The mind floats within the void.
A voice reaching him in that state.
His consciousness, wandering aimlessly without destination, finds the direction it must go.
And so, before long, his awareness returns.
Eyes he thought would never open again, opened.
"You've finally awakened, Lord Balzac."
Along with that voice, what comes into view is a black-haired knight in armor.
An emblem emblazoned across the chest.
Seeing that, it seemed the man was a knight of the Empire.
"Where is this..."
His head throbbed as if it would split apart at any moment. Even the slightest movement brought nausea surging up to the verge of vomiting.
Desperately enduring the headache, Balzac tried to lift his body sprawled across what appeared to be a bed.
But no strength would enter his body.
A superhuman who had reached the realm of Sword Master.
The omnipotence that had always radiated from that body was nowhere to be felt.
Where had the power to cleave a mountain in half with a single swing of the sword gone? His body was so wrecked that even lifting an arm was a struggle.
"You need to rest now! Your wounds haven't fully closed yet."
As Balzac continued trying to move, the black-haired knight shouted at him urgently.
At the same time, memories came flooding back.
Everything that had happened flashed through his mind.
He had gone to investigate that woman named Rubia, when some white-haired man barged in and wreaked havoc with incomprehensible powers and bizarre companions.
And in the end, by that bastard's Holy Sword.......
He died.
He was certain he had died.
Yet here was Balzac, still breathing.
For some reason his body was completely wrecked. But at least his limbs were still attached.
A narrow escape from death.
Balzac had somehow survived that crisis.
"...Report. What exactly happened."
"I found you collapsed in the ruined building and immediately took you to the Holy See. Once I explained the situation, they began treatment right away."
The black-haired knight responded promptly the moment Balzac gave the command.
But the questions remained.
Because the current situation was far too strange.
That single strike.
No matter how immense the Divine Power contained within the Holy Sword was, it didn't seem like that Hero bastard had exhausted all his strength with it.
His companions were also still in plenty of condition to keep fighting.
'Yet they just left me lying there and departed?'
Were they trying to get out of the mansion quickly?
After such a fierce battle, drawing attention was an inevitable consequence.
The first hypothesis that came to mind was that they had left in such a hurry to avoid being detected by the Empire that they hadn't bothered to confirm whether he lived or died.
That was a bit strange.
'Because I set up a barrier.'
The entrepreneur named Rubia was a noble, not a commoner.
She even belonged to the upper echelon, and her family wielded a fair amount of influence.
There was nothing to gain from publicly showing the suppression of such a person.
So Balzac had laid a barrier around the mansion's vicinity.
A perfect construction that wouldn't let a single noise escape.
It even had Confusion Magic cast on it, so ordinary people wouldn't even be able to approach the mansion.
They failed to notice that barrier?
Did such a convenient turn of events really save his life?
Something about it was utterly unconvincing.
But Balzac soon erased those thoughts from his mind.
It would be foolish to deny fortune that had come his way. Besides, there were more important matters at hand.
Balzac gritted his teeth and strained his arms, struggling to rise from where he lay. He desperately endured the excruciating pain that wracked his body.
Seeing this, the black-haired knight panicked and shouted.
"I told you not to move! Your wounds are still..."
"Silence. I have matters to attend to. Stop interfering and get out this instant."
Balzac scowled and snapped at him, but strangely, the man was persistent.
"If you push yourself now, your life will truly be in danger. If there's something you absolutely must handle, please leave it to me instead."
The black-haired knight was meddling beyond his station.
Under normal circumstances, he should have been punished immediately.
But Balzac exercised patience and endured it. After all, the man had saved his life.
"This is not something you can do in my stead."
"If it's something you can't delegate..."
"Revenge."
Not only had the bastard used cowardly tricks to read all of his sword techniques, he had also called in his companions, violating the sacred rules of a one-on-one duel.
He had no intention of letting such a man live.
'Of course, a head-on fight would be difficult with this body.'
But then he could simply mobilize other forces.
He had already figured out their identities.
That overwhelming power.
Those incomprehensible abilities.
The name of an organization where such unidentified humans gathered in large numbers was simple enough that even a child could figure it out.
Black Fang.
Those slippery bastards.
'They used a truly cunning trick.'
The white-haired man.
He must be the Leader of Black Fang. Yet the Empire was still chasing after some bastard called Teolbakteolbak or whatever.
Just as he had read his sword techniques, that bastard must have used tricks to deceive the Empire.
'But that ends now.'
Balzac himself had seen it.
That bastard's face and the pattern of his mana.
He could no longer hide his identity.
Until now, they had managed to slip away. But from here on, they would have to face the full might of the Empire.
Sure, they may have beaten one Sword Master....
But could they win against two?
What about the mighty imperial army?
The Former Hero.
The Corpse Puppets made from his companions?
And even if they somehow defeated all of that, no matter how much they struggled, could they really keep their lives before His Majesty?
Could they even stand a chance against someone who had already transcended humanity?
Impossible.
The power of that white-haired Hero.
With skills worse than an Apprentice Knight and a lack of experience, he possessed overwhelming physical abilities rivaling a Sword Master.
If left alone, he would eventually become a monster capable of truly shaking the Empire.
But such a thing would never happen now.
Because the name Black Fang would soon be erased from history.
"Those bastards... will regret sparing my life for the rest of theirs."
Murmuring those words, Balzac let out a maddened laugh.
And... the black-haired knight laughed along with him.
Why the hell had this bastard been acting so cluelessly since earlier? Even if he was his savior, this was just too pathetic.
Balzac snapped at the black-haired knight to shut up.
...No, he tried to snap at him.
But his voice caught in his throat.
Because the words that actually rang out were far more bizarre.
"Yeah, I definitely think you're right, Balzac."
The face of the laughing black-haired man melted away. And what was revealed beneath was....
White hair and blue eyes.
"I also felt like I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I let you live."
The Leader of Black Fang stood right before his eyes.
*****
"To think you couldn't even recognize a simple Disguise Spell Formula. It seems your Mana Circuit really is busted."
I said that with a smile.
A Sword Master is a Sword Master for a reason.
Balzac had somehow managed to survive a strike infused with all of my Divine Power.
He looked more like a lump of meat than a human, but at the very least, he was still breathing.
So the revival could be executed perfectly.
It proved it wasn't an Apostle-grade Stigma for nothing; it allowed me to exclude specific parts, like his Mana Circuit, from the healing process.
Balzac glared at me, gnashing his teeth furiously.
"You cowardly bastard... just how far do you plan to humiliate me!"
Balzac was whining about how I used trickery and asking if I had no shame for ganging up on him.
But those words didn't hurt me at all.
'Me, a coward?'
Weren't we a righteous Hero Party?
All those good kids I had worked so hard to gather.
We just banded together with the protagonists to defeat a powerful foe standing in our way.
There was no element of cowardice to be found here.
When Imperial Knights gang up on someone, it's a lynching; but when we do it, it's a raid.
Besides, even if I had used cowardly methods, it wouldn't matter.
"The outcome of our match is already decided, isn't it? No matter what you say, it's just the babbling of a loser."
My words naturally shut his mouth.
Those were the words he constantly spouted in the original story. He probably never dreamed he'd be the one hearing them.
"......Kill me."
He finally said in a voice filled with resignation. I had expected him to struggle a bit more pathetically.
It seemed even he had realized there was no way out of this alive.
Balzac closed his eyes with a resolute expression.
I trudged over to him and spoke.
"I don't think I will."
His expression was instantly colored with panic.
He seemed unable to grasp the current situation.
But he would understand if he just thought about it for a moment.
If I had just wanted to kill him, why would I have healed him in the first place?
I could have simply chopped off his head and confirmed the kill.
"Don't get your hopes up. It's not like I'm going to let you live."
Actually, letting him live wasn't entirely out of the question.
He was enough of a big shot that his disappearance would draw attention, so I had somewhat considered recruiting him.
But hadn't he said it himself?
That I would definitely regret it if I let him live.
He was practically screaming to the heavens that he was the kind of guy who would stab me in the back if I spared him.
I couldn't just ignore a warning like that.
So I was definitely going to kill him.
I was going to kill him, but...
"It's only common sense to return the favor when someone does something to you."
Saying so, I pulled something out.
A blue liquid.
A syringe filled with the same drug he had injected into Miss Rubia.
His face was instantly drained of color.
Well, it wasn't unreasonable.
How many people could counterfeit the Empire's special recipe and mass-produce it on the spot?
"W-Wait a minute......."
His face grew pale as a sheet.
He recoiled in terror and tried to scramble away from me.
But I kept walking toward him.
"I might not be from the Tang Clan, but I read a lot of martial arts novels. I learned a lot about how to navigate the world wisely from them."
I smiled brightly as I injected the drug into his arm.
"You must repay kindness twice over, and grudges a hundredfold."
A scream resembling that of a six-year-old girl echoed through the room.
Moments later, Balzac's back arched like a bow.