122. The End of Fate
122. The End of Fate
The beginning was the happiest of times.
Under the guidance of a loved one, they learned the beauty of the world, and believed that all of it would love them in return.
But such innocent sentiments were only permitted beneath a mother's shadow.
The moment that shadow vanished, they had no choice but to realize the truth.
The world was cruel, and to resist such cruelty, they had to choose to stain their own hands.
To survive in that world, they fought countless battles, and as they grew into adulthood, they came to understand.
If everything they had witnessed was the foundation of this world, then how should someone abruptly cast into it resolve to live?
-Boom!
Two who shared those same roots were now lunging at each other's throats.
That, too, was the final destination of humanity's original sin.
An extension of war waged for mutually incompatible purposes.
-Rumble!
Though they shared the same memories, both sought to break the other for the sake of their own ideals.
If this was the reality they had to accept, then one would rather tear down the world that had tormented them and submit to that reality.
If this was the reality they had to accept, then the other would build up strength and resist, to break free of it.
No matter how harsh it was, no matter how terrifying a future awaited.
-Craaash!
A chain of attacks driven by sheer tenacity forced the two combatants apart.
Even amidst the chaos, the unconscious dragon charged onward between the mountain ranges, answering the power contained within its own body.
Its legs, made of ash, could barely support its weight. The dragon lurched forward as though crawling even as it crumbled at the edges.
Those erratic movements showed no regard for those on its back, and the footholds of bone and scale shifted and changed in real time.
-Shiiing!
But even on such chaotic ground, the target remained clear.
Weapons of every kind materialized one by one in their wake. Each grabbed whatever fell into their hands and launched themselves at one another, leap after leap, crashing magical power against magical power.
First came swords.
Then axes with heft and mass, then hammers.
They blocked enemy attacks with shields, struck at blind spots with iron balls dangling from chains, then slipped into each other's guard to thrust with daggers and hidden weapons.
-Bang!!
And so, amidst the chaos of countless tangled weapons, what they eventually grasped were the sword and spear most familiar to each of them.
-CLANG!!
Storm after storm of magical power erupted with full force, but both endured it all, fixated on nothing but carving away at each other's flesh.
The gales born from their clashing wills were anything but light. Yet they had to cut through even that and push forward—only then could they move ahead of the opponent and seize an opening.
-Crack!
That was what war meant to them.
In a fight where life and death hung on every second, composure was nothing but a luxury. Their gazes remained fixed solely on the one who sought their breath, blocking and swinging in equal measure.
-Clang!
The spinal bones crumbled under the strain of those clashes. Soon, the two figures plummeted downward, and their eyes began to catch glimpses of shadows roaming through the dragon's crudely formed interior.
They were monsters—distorted creations born from the twisting of their shared past memories. Their forms looked as though reptilian bones and human flesh had been kneaded together like clay dolls. Just facing them stirred up everything within both combatants.
In one, it ignited a will to win. In the other—fear.
-SCREEEEEECH!!
Yes, this was the heart of enemy territory.
Whose orders those creatures followed was painfully obvious.
-Crack!
So without letting their guard down, they generated weapons and drove them straight into the monsters' bodies. Weapons formed of pure magical power were akin to solidified aura in their own right. The abominations cobbled together from dragon bone were carved apart with brutal ease, and as the embedded weapons detonated, the enemy forces were cut down.
-B-boom! Kaboom!
After fighting through and opening a path, what greeted them was a blade viciously honed by crimson currents. That blade tore even its own allies apart as it carved through the dragon's innards, and through the gaps where fierce winds rushed in from outside, a flock of crows began to swarm.
Even now, the crows lurked, ever watchful for prey.
Dealing with them was not difficult—but if their numbers accumulated, stamina would drain, and the accumulation of minor wounds would eventually grant the enemy a chance to strike by surprise.
-Rumble!
Just as they steeled themselves to fight through even that, a boulder came hurtling forward, and shadows began to fall over the area where the flock had been swept away, as if taking their place. A young hero stood atop the fragments, lifting a cluster of rocks alongside them. And below, another hero was swatting up every piece of debris the dragon left in its wake.
Only two people. But even that covering fire was enough to secure the breathing room needed to push toward the enemy.
-WHOOOOM!
They exploited that opening to tear through the dragon's twisted interior. At the end of that charge, an impact erupted, and the Red Knight's body was violently hurled back from her position. Fragments and ash scattered in every direction. As she floundered within the debris, the tip of a spear had already closed the distance.
-BOOM!!
Her body, launched outward by an upward strike from her blind spot, was flung back into the open air—and her opponent followed close behind, channeling mana into his legs to pursue and pursue again.
Determined not to waste this moment of opportunity, he struck her body upon the churning earth, then chased her hurtling form to strike again and again.
-Crack!
But that did not last long. Before he knew it, his momentum was halted mid-sequence, and he felt a brake clamp down on his own actions.
Even though she had been reduced to tatters by the one-sided assault—the Red Knight had seized the spear lodged in her shoulder, and she was glaring at him.
-Bang!!
Her counterattack, launched without a shred of self-preservation, crashed into his armor. Having now seized the upper hand, the Red Knight smiled as a single truth dawned on her.
Yes, this was the difference between the living and the dead.
As long as they had enough magical power, wounds could be regenerated to a certain degree. Lacking physical pain, they held no fear of death itself, and that was why they could throw their bodies aside and rise again and again.
Her opponent, on the other hand, was a human with a beating heart and breathing lungs. Overexertion demanded heavy breaths. Pushing too hard burdened the body, and pain came rushing in.
Merely enduring that required staggering mental fortitude. If he could not overwhelm her in a single relentless drive, then the dulling senses of a body gradually wearing down would inevitably leave him rattled.
"Give up."
And so, with the tables turned once more, the Red Knight twisted her manifested weapon and declared—
"Give up already!!!!!"
-Craaash! Bang!!
Explosion after explosion erupted as their weapons collided.
The Red Knight's axe tore through the gaps between them, crashing into the shield in his hand with a shuddering impact.
"Why do you keep going this far?"
Her momentum swelled, threatening to cleave through even that—when a sword kicked up from below. Stabbed but undeterred, she swung her blade again and again, trying to overwhelm him.
"You know better than anyone that living on only brings more pain! You, the one still alive, know better than anyone that giving up is so much easier!!"
In the power struggle that followed, the Red Knight pressed forward with overwhelming force. In her gaze lay contempt for her opponent—and welling sympathy alongside it.
That this world was endlessly cruel and despairing—her opponent, who shared her memories, would feel that even more acutely.
And the reason he still resisted was something a dead woman, shackled to the past, could never possibly comprehend.
"...Not yet."
Because he believed that his reason for standing here was right, he poured every ounce of strength into his body.
"It's... not over yet..."
If the world were merely cruel, giving up would be the correct answer. But if even a little something else existed within that world—
-Thud.
If even the faintest thing that could be called a light existed—
"...Wh, at."
Feeling that faint light surge to the forefront in this very moment, he gathered mana into the spear he had been using for pure defense—and fixed his eyes upon her.
The relentless onslaught he had thought would continue forever began to wane, and her knees slammed against the ground.
The backlash of the reckless, body-disregarding tactics she had employed from the very moment she recognized herself as one of the dead—it was crashing down upon her now.
"If you can't feel pain, then I guess you don't even notice when your own body turns into a wreck."
It was an obvious outcome. Dead or not, the framework was still undeniably a human body. If the muscles and bones were placed under strain, then even without feeling pain, there was no avoiding restricted movement.
Even if regeneration was possible through magical power, complete regeneration still required time.
"And if even that fancy regeneration of yours has a limit..."
"Then I just have to beat you to death and I win. Right!?"
Seizing that opening, an attack infused with magical power hammered into her, and her body was sent reeling with a Bang!.
Resisting, the Red Knight rallied her regeneration and gripped swords in both hands, launching herself at him once more.
"You dying bastard!!!"
In the end, all who possessed life were destined to die someday. So as far as she was concerned, the same logic applied—she just had to push him until he was dead.
Him, gradually wearing down even as he defended himself. And her, replenishing even as she was chipped away. If this fight dragged on, the victor was all but certain.
-CRASH!!