A Hero Never Bows
They clashed, and clashed again. Sword met spear. And slowly—but without the faintest trace of doubt—wounds began to open across Garfield's body.
"Th-this is insane!! I'm being pushed back by a one-armed cripple!?"
"……."
I said nothing, and kept watching. I burned every movement into my one remaining eye. The shift of muscle. The flicker of his gaze. The sound of his breath. All of it was telling me what he would do next.
It's almost nostalgic.
Back when I was still weak—back when I took so many grievous wounds it was embarrassing to even call myself a Hero—I had a way of fighting. Observation. I watched an enemy's every movement, from the first to the last, until I understood it all. Swordsmanship, spearmanship, magic: none of it mattered. If I could find that peculiar rhythm of breath, I could win for certain, so long as the gap in physical ability wasn't utterly hopeless.
The trouble was that reading someone took time, which meant I had to accept getting hurt. Once I gained real power, I stopped using it properly. I could win without it, after all.
But I was as weak now as a person could be, forced to fight through the spasms wracking my body. A drawn-out battle was probably a poor choice—and yet finishing this cleanly mattered more. The damage from my being late might be severe. The damage from failing to put this creature down would be far, far worse.
"You should have killed me."
"What?"
"You should have gone all-out to kill me from the very start."
Steel screamed against steel, once, twice—then a wet slash tore through flesh.
"Ghhhk!!"
Blood sprayed from Garfield's body.
"You damned bitch!!"
The next stroke took his arm clean off.
"AAAAAGH!!"
Garfield's only path to victory had been to kill me with everything he had, from the first exchange. He should have done it before I had properly read the way this monster moved. Instead, true to his nature, he had grown careless. He had looked down on me with that arrogant stare, seen a cripple, and convinced himself that dragging the fight out would only favor him.
And he wasn't wrong. The longer this went, the more the pain in my body mounted, and the more blood I lost. I was, to be honest, nowhere near a normal condition.
But the thing he was fighting could not be brought down by thinking like that.
It's almost funny to say it myself, but I am the Hero. In all of humanity, there is not a single person stronger than me in a straight fight. Among every monster that exists, there is none that can beat me head-on.
And he came at me from the front?
"Don't underestimate a Berserk Wyvern!!"
Attack crashed against attack once more. A Berserk Wyvern grew stronger on the brink of death, and that was exactly the feeling in the air now. He was regenerating fast, and that enhancement would hold until the battle ended—but I didn't need to worry overmuch. I had read the movement. I had read the breath. He was still the same creature. I drove in.
I slipped every one of Garfield's attacks, and his eyes flew wide.
"H-how……! With that body……!!"
"Do I look like some idiot who only knows how to hit hard?"
Strength. Agility. Technique. I had honed every faculty that belonged to a fight to its utter limit, and that was how I became the Hero. I did not leave talent lying there as talent. I got here on effort that nearly drove me out of my mind.
It was true that I was absurdly weak compared to my prime. If Garfield had come at me aiming for a short, brutal exchange, I might well have been the one to fall.
A single stroke cleaved him through—and in the same instant, I coughed blood.
"Th-this much!!"
"You won't die. Tough as a cockroach."
I carved him apart in a flurry of strokes, and what remained of Garfield toppled backward, torn to shreds.
"Hah…… hah…… khack, khack! Ah, damn it…… this goddamn curse…… Lois will handle it somehow, but before that…… the other Demon King Army Cadre. I have to do something."
I turned at once, meaning to head into Elvenheim.
And in that instant, instinct screamed at me to dodge.
"Hhk!"
The spear that grazed my side was Garfield's.
Impossible. I shredded him so thoroughly there shouldn't have been a corpse left to stand!!
I turned my head. Garfield was getting up with nothing but his upper body remaining.
The Berserk Wyvern's peculiar habit of rampaging even after death?
A Berserk Wyvern would keep fighting for a while even with its head cut off. I had made a small mistake, my mind already on the people I needed to save—but that would be over soon enough. I hadn't died to the ambush. That was enough.
And yet.
No. Something's wrong.
He was regenerating at a frightening speed, and a black aura wavered around him. In a blink he had restored himself to his original form, and from that recovered body a pitch-black energy rose like steam.
"Never thought I'd have to use this so soon…… Even as a cripple, I suppose a Hero is a Hero. I almost forgot you'd actually killed the Demon King."
"You—how……"
"This is the power I received from the Evil God himself—the very pinnacle of monsterkind."
"What?"
A corruptive, pitch-black divine power, rising like steam from restored flesh.
Combat capacity elevated to Demon King class.
"I didn't want to burn this so quickly, you know! But if the opponent is the Hero, it's worth using!!"
He came on like a thunderbolt. Faster than before. This speed. This power.
On par with the Demon King…!
I got my guard up, and the force of it still hurled me away. I tumbled across the ground, then lifted my head and glared at him.
"Hahahaha!! Incredible!! So this is the Evil God's power!! I'm the strongest now! I'm going to be the real Demon King!!"
It isn't a bluff.
The strength was comparable to the Demon King's. That black, steam-like aura had taken Garfield—a creature of mere cadre class—and hauled him up to a level that rivaled the Demon King in an instant.
And this aura—
The Holy Sword answered it, a low, resonant hum.
Is it truly the power of the Evil God?
No. That wasn't the problem. The problem was this: the mage among the Demon King Army Cadre almost certainly carried the same power. If cadre-class enemies suddenly climbed to the Demon King's level, we would not be able to hold.
"Die this time, Hero. Get on your knees and beg, and I might even consider killing you gently."
Lois……
I closed my eyes, opened them, and smiled.
"A Hero," I said, and raised the Holy Sword.
"Then…… die screaming!!"
This was going to be genuinely dangerous.
"How leisurely. How very leisurely."
"Tsk!"
Even with Rayna joining them, turning the fight three-against-one, the situation was nowhere near favorable. Bane the Lich turned aside their attacks as if he had all the time in the world, and the assault that came back at them without pause was so relentless that merely holding the line was already more than they could bear.
The greatest problem, in the end, was that he could stop them. A barrier kept up at all times would have burned through a considerable amount of mana—but he raised it only for a moment, and only at the precise point of impact, shaving his consumption down to the bare minimum. A Lich would have mana to spare in any case, but what they were seeing was more fairly called a control he had honed over a very long time.
"You—that bow……"
"Don't ask me that right now! There's no time to explain!"
"Fine……"
"I'll be honest, I was looking forward to this a little? And what a disappointment. What a complete disappointment. I even received power from the Evil God, and I don't need to use it at all, do I? Maybe I should have gone to fight the Hero over there instead. A Hero's corpse would certainly come in handy."
"You bastard!!"
Bane laughed, and in the same breath tried to pin all three of them down at once.
"Hoo."
In that instant, Rayna drew a breath and held it.
"Storm Bow."
Storm Bow
The shot rode a gale and flew true at Bane; he unfurled a barrier as if it were nothing and stopped it cold. In the same heartbeat Les lunged in and drove his sword at the Lich's throat.
It missed by a hair. Bane stepped back, laughing.
"Whoa! I'll give you that one—that was actually dangerous!"
"A Demon King Army Cadre…… worse than I imagined……"
"You're Rayna Forest, aren't you? The Hero's party that never even properly fought a cadre, let alone the Demon King—all thanks to the Hero! Hahaha! That's hilarious!"
Rayna said nothing.
It was true. All she had ever done was support Olivia from behind, and even that, more often than not, had merely taken a little tedious work off Olivia's hands—work Olivia could have finished alone. It was not a joke: Olivia's companions had only needed enough strength to keep themselves alive. Most of the battles that actually mattered could not have been won without her.
"You too."
Sylphy spoke in Rayna's place.
"For a Demon King Army Cadre, you've never faced the Hero either, have you? Lady Rayna at least stood beside her to fight. You didn't even show your face when the Demon King died. So which of you is more pathetic?"
"……."
For the briefest instant, the smile vanished from Bane's face.
"Empty carts make the most noise. Three of you together can't even beat one of me—what exactly do you think you can do? And I'm not even at full strength. Don't believe me? Shall we find out?"
"……."
Rayna looked at Sylphy for a moment. At least she stood beside her. It was a way of thinking Rayna had never once attempted herself. Almost without noticing, she lifted a hand and touched her own neck.
What needed to be done here? She already knew.
Rayna looked down at the bow formed of her own mana.
"Sylphy. Les."
"Yes?"
"What is it?"
"I have a plan. I can't say it's certain—but I can at least guarantee your lives."
"Let us hear it. At this rate, we will be annihilated."
"Against a Demon King Army Cadre who isn't even going all-out…… well. We have to try something."
Yes. They could live. Sylphy and Les, that is.
But Rayna had survived by a selfish choice. Then dying by an altruistic one would be a way, too.
No. She had no right to use a word like altruistic.
She simply—smiled, awkwardly.
"Blood Bow."
A forbidden elven archery art.
Power bought with blood and vitality.
A sound like something splitting. The bow of mana stained itself a deep, blood-dark crimson—and then that same color crawled up Rayna's arm.
"Lady Rayna!"
Les understood what it was and shouted, but Rayna only smiled.
"If we die here, this Lich will go kill the rest of our people."
"But……"
"……."
Rayna looked at Sylphy. It was the face of someone who could not follow the conversation at all. She gave him a small smile.
"Let's go."
To do what she should have done a long time ago.