Novapolis Slums (3): The Weight of the Blade
Three days later, I headed to the promised spot. As I climbed onto the rooftop, Lien entered my view. She had her arms propped on the railing, gazing out at the distant city. On a sudden whim, I muffled my footsteps and snuck up behind her.
“Hey.”
“Kyaa!!”
She startled violently at my voice from behind. Whipping around, she spotted me and let out a relieved sigh.
“What was that? You really scared me. Phew... my heart.”
“I move pretty quietly by nature.”
I glanced at the sword in her hand and the bag at her feet. Her gear was far neater than last time, and the blade was well-polished.
“......”
Of course, it still wasn't sharpened.
“...You prepped hard for the last three days?”
“Yes! I did my best. This is a flashbang, this is a smoke grenade, this is an energy shield generator, these are night-vision goggles, this is an emergency med kit, and this is...”
She kept rummaging in her bag and pulling out gear. It reminded me of that earless blue cat from the cartoons.
“What about the academy? Aren't you a cadet?”
“It's vacation right now, so it's fine!”
“Ah.”
Come to think of it, it was July. Leaving her mountain of equipment behind, I stepped back from the railing and headed to the center of the rooftop. It wasn't huge, but plenty of room for us to maneuver.
There was something I needed to check here. Something more important to her than anything else.
“I can tell you about the criminal organization, but first, one thing to confirm.”
“Confirm something?”
Lien tilted her head.
“Your skills.”
“Ah...”
Her expression hardened. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she pressed her lips together and nodded.
“You want to see a demo?”
“Yeah.”
And there was one more thing to check. Though I kept that to myself.
I shrugged off my coat and draped it over the railing. Standing empty-handed, I faced her and crooked a finger.
“Come at me.”
Her eyes widened.
“W-wait a sec. You're not serious about an actual fight, right?”
“Dead serious.”
I said it calmly, but she looked speechless for a moment. Caught off guard by the abrupt challenge.
I took a step back and lightly raised my palm.
“Think of it as sparring. But I'll judge it strictly real-combat style. Attacks are fair game—no holds barred on methods.”
“Even so...”
“Lien.”
Calling her name snapped her gaze back to me.
“To rack up real achievements, you gotta clear this bar.”
“......”
A brief silence. She rested her hand on her sword hilt, drew a slow breath, and nodded.
“...Got it.”
I lowered my hand.
“Then let's start.”
“......Right now?”
“Now's best.”
As my words ended, she closed her eyes for a beat, then opened them. Her vibe shifted. The hesitation vanished, replaced by the honed focus unique to a trained superhuman.
Not bad.
-Sring.
The sword cleared its sheath.
“......Pardon me.”
She exhaled sharply and lunged forward.
—Thud!
Kicking off the rooftop, her body rocketed ahead in an instant.
!
Fast. Way faster than expected. The blade tip speared straight for my throat.
I tilted my head aside to dodge.
—Whoosh!
The edge grazed past by a hair's breadth. Her eyes widened for a split second—I hadn't counterattacked.
“Keep going.”
“...Yes!”
She flowed seamlessly from thrust to slash for her second strike. Crisp motion.
I stepped back, batting her blade away with my forearm.
—Clang!
Metal rang out. She leaped back to widen the gap.
“Not bad at all, huh?”
She pressed her lips tight and nodded.
“Yes. But that's as far as it goes.”
With that, she charged again—this time far more aggressive. Her footwork quickened, blade paths sharpening viciously. Her honed strikes made evasion tougher by the second.
I powered up, zeroing in on her attacks. Still, no offense from me—just dodge, parry, deflect.
After several clashes, her breaths started coming ragged.
At this rate, kinda disappointing.
Then she pivoted sharply, dropping low for a thrust.
Oh.
Quicker judgment than expected. I sidestepped—the blade grazed my side lightly.
Big swings leave openings. I closed right up to her wrist and snapped out a clenched fist.
It sliced the air, halting inches from her face.
She froze solid.
At least she kept her eyes open this time.
“...I lost.”
“Yeah.”
She sheathed her sword and met my gaze, eyes laced with expectation. I knew exactly what she was hoping for.
“Hmm... Skills are solid. Footwork's good, attacks have variety.”
I wasn't a sword master, but I could judge this much. These were core combat fundamentals, not style-specific.
Her showing just now—and a few days back—was pretty solid. Hell, way above run-of-the-mill low-tier villains.
And I figured that girl hadn't gone all-out. Pre-demon-fragment me would've had a tough time.
But that didn't matter.
What counted was this.
“But...”
I pointed at her sword. A blunt training blade.
She got it—her face darkened.
“You sticking with that? For real?”
“......”
“Half-assing to spare 'em can get you killed. If you're dead sure you can KO cleanly, I won't care.”
She fell silent. The wind off the railing tousled her black hair.
I eyed the sword evenly.
“That's how they teach it at the academy?”
“Yes. Killing... it's the absolute last resort.”
“...Fair point.”
I nodded. No denying it. At its core, being a hero in Novapolis meant saving lives, not taking them. Sure, unavoidable kills happened, and they were sneakily common among active heroes. But non-lethal was the baseline.
Her hesitation made sense.
But sense and reality were different beasts.
“That's hero work standards. Not where you're headed.”
Her eyes wavered faintly.
“Criminal organization. Criminals. The ones you're after are real villains. The kind who charge at you with murder in their eyes.”
I stepped closer.
“You really heading in with a blunt sword?”
“......”
No answer. Her grip just tightened.
“You've been lucky so far. Hell, you had a close call just recently, right?”
Her shoulders twitched ever so slightly.
A moment later, came a soft rasp as she drew another sword from her bag.
-Sring.
This one was different. A keen edge glinting in the light.
A real sword.
“...This work?”
Her voice was steady. On the surface.
I glanced at the blade, then her face.
“Wrong question.”
“......Huh?”
“Can you kill a person?”
Her pupils shook hard.
“...I...”
“It's fine. No rush on the answer.”
I lowered my hand.
“Not my call anyway.”
“......”
“Hero, family heir, or just wanna get strong—whatever.”
I turned toward the railing.
“In the end, killing's your choice. No one can shoulder that for you.”
Lien stared silently at the real sword. City lights danced along the blade.
Probably a storm of thoughts.
Who knows how much time passed.
Finally, she stowed the sword in her bag and gripped another.
The difference? The one now in her hand was the real deal.
“...Got it.”
Short reply. But hesitation lingered in her tone. The real sword in her grasp, yet no firm resolve.
I let the topic drop.
“Back to the criminal org.”
“Yes.”
I pulled a map from my coat and spread it on the railing. Lien's eyes lit up as she scooted right up beside me.
Raven had hooked me up with this. Detailed layout of Novapolis C City and nearby terrain.
“Org's called Grayve Neon. Boss is a villain with energy manipulation powers. Members are pro-armed muscle.”
I tapped the spot circled in red.
“We're heading here. Pack up. Here's my number—save it.”
“This place...”
Lien's eyes went wide in surprise.
No need to drag it out. Their numbers weren't huge anyway. Perfect timing, meeting her today.
Wrap it in one day.