Even So, He Challenges
The moment Laward drew his sword—
Crack!
A hand burst up through the floor tiles and seized his ankle.
If it could be called a hand. Nothing remained but bone.
Laward reacted, swinging his blade—
Whoosh—!
The undead whirled him like a wet rag and slammed him into the floor.
“Gah…hck!”
As the impact drove the air from his lungs, the owner of the hand came clawing up through the dirt.
A skeleton draped in a white robe thick with dust and grime.
A one-armed skeleton.
Beyond the missing left arm, finger joints and toe bones were gone as well; more than a few pieces were absent. But the first thing anyone saw was that solitary arm.
“Wh-what is that?!”
The memorial hall staff stumbled backward.
The motion must have caught the undead’s empty sockets; its skull snapped around toward them.
“Uh…”
By the time they realized, it was already too late.
The instant their eyes met, the thing charged and swept its arm.
Boom!
“Urgh!”
Laward, who had somehow thrown himself in front of the staff, went flying like a kicked ball. He struck the wall and crumpled to the floor.
“A-are you all right?”
“Get out of here—now!”
He shouted it, then gripped his sword again with trembling hands.
He tried to use it like a cane and rise, but his arms shook violently.
Crack—
Halfway up, searing pain lanced through his side.
“Broken, is it…”
Sword had met bone, yet it was Laward’s rib that had snapped clean through.
The undead ignored the reeling youth and simply walked on—somewhere.
It paid no attention to Laward or any of the other students.
“Laward! Are you okay?”
Ester rushed to support him as he finally forced himself upright.
Hum—
At the same moment, holy power flowed from her fingertips and knitted the broken bone.
“……”
Laward disliked the feel of her hands, but in this moment he had no choice but to lean on Ester.
One exchange had told him everything.
An opponent like this… is a first for me.
Feeling his own limits. Being dropped in a single blow. Having a bone break.
All of it was new to Laward—and a humiliation.
The overwhelming pressure he had felt the first time he met Daywin came flooding back.
“While we can—run!”
A first-year standing farther back shouted.
“Damn it… Where the hell is the teacher when we need him…”
“Hurry! Get outside!”
“Move!”
Students milled in panic and sprinted for the entrance.
They funneled toward the single exit as if being sucked into it.
“Can you… move now?”
Watching them, Ester turned back to Laward.
“We need to get out of here too…!”
She started forward. Laward’s hand closed around her wrist.
Even knowing this was no time for it, Ester had to fight down the sudden, foolish hammering of her heart.
“You know as well as I do.”
“Pardon?”
“Wherever that thing vanished to just now, it is still inside the memorial hall.”
Remnants of the Death God Cult. My teacher’s enemy.
Laward drew a long, tense breath.
“We have to keep it from leaving.”
He tightened his grip on the hilt with grim resolve.
“Hey!”
Then he raised his voice.
“All of you—stop running and help! If that thing gets out of here, it’ll be even more dangerous!”
“Don’t talk crap, Laward! Running is the smart move right now! Even if you want to play hero, you pick your moments!”
“Didn’t we come to the Academy to get stronger?! If we just work together—”
“That’s the point—we’re not strong yet! Not everyone is you!”
Laward argued, but the other students only ran harder for the exit.
“Tch.”
In the end he would have to fight alone.
“I’ll… stay with you.”
No. Not alone.
Laward looked down at Ester.
Her face was bloodless, her limbs trembling, yet she planted her feet beside his and matched his stance.
He had always disliked her, but even he had to acknowledge that courage.
“Thank—”
“I—I just remembered something.”
“…Remembered what?”
“We did this during the entrance exam too, didn’t we?”
A soft, hazy memory seemed to surface; Ester let out a little laugh.
“The test where we fought the welcome magic. We were… on the same team.”
Laward’s face showed he remembered as well.
“Everyone saw how strong you were and just gave up… I was so worried they’d compare me to you because we were stuck together…”
Ester glanced up at him, shy.
“But back then you said, ‘Hmph. I’ll grant you that little flourish of yours, at least.’ Didn’t you?”
“I—I didn’t think you’d remember it that clearly…! Please just forget those days…”
“Well. It left an impression.”
“I sold it well, right? Actually, I…”
“You never looked like someone fretting over scores.”
Laward spoke flatly, and Ester’s mouth snapped shut.
“There was none of the anxiety the other entrants showed—wondering whether they could earn high marks. I wanted a high score myself. You alone looked as if you could decide the outcome whenever you pleased.”
“So…”
So Laward had said it.
I see. Next to you, I’m still…
He had simply agreed with her words.
“You pick up that kind of eye living in the slums. Stronger or weaker than me—if you can’t tell at a glance, you die young. It’s the skill you need most just to survive. Even now…”
He had meant not to say this much.
“That opinion has not changed.”
The thought that he might die fighting the undead that would reappear any second simply loosened his tongue.
That was the real reason Laward had envied Ester in particular.
Other girls were one thing, but Ester alone—he had secretly believed she was worthy of Daywin’s favor.
“Back then… I was happy you saw me.”
Ester’s lips curved.
“You were the only one who did.”
“I… honestly doubted myself halfway. I thought maybe my eye had finally failed me.”
“Even so, I was happy.”
“……”
“And I just remembered something else. The direction the undead went earlier. It was a path we hadn’t taken yet. According to the guide…”
“I thought I was the only one listening to the explanation.”
“Well, I—I was looking… somewhere else, yes.”
Ester’s eyes slid toward Laward’s face.
She had only been looking at him.
It was the bravest way she knew how to say it.
“So what of it?”
“She said it was over there.”
Ester sketched a long shape in the air with her hands.
“The spear the founder used.”
Whoosh—!
In that instant a colossal gust tore through the stone building.
Laward grabbed the back of Ester’s head and threw them both flat just as—
KRAAAAAASH!
The wind pressure scythed through the students packed at the entrance and shattered the entire wall.
It collapsed.
The only exit.
Groans and screams filled the memorial hall.
“Hah… hah…”
Laward, who had barely escaped the blast, fought to calm his hammering heart and risked a glance behind him.
The undead was walking back, using a massive spear like a crutch, tapping it against the floor with every step.
It had returned.
“Aaaaaaagh!”
His classmates’ screams tore at Laward’s ears.
Clench—
Still flat on the floor, he drove his fist hard into the stone.
What is its goal?
He glared at the ruined entrance and thought.
To leave this place?
No.
If that were true, would it have taken the time to fetch a weapon?
And it would have aimed for the exit itself, not deliberately destroyed it.
It had sealed them in on purpose.
Him, the students, the staff—all of them.
Is its purpose to kill us?
No.
If it meant to kill, it could have wiped them out from the start.
The students caught in the wind pressure had simply been standing there; their lives had never been the target.
Then what in the world…
“Laward! How does that one look?”
Ester’s cry snapped him back to himself.
How does it look?
“Is it stronger than you?”
Well…
“You said you can tell by instinct!”
Well……
Laward grinned and lifted his head.
“Well, of course I’m no match for it. That’s only natural.”
Even saying something so ominous, he smirked.
“Please don’t die…! I’m going over there! I want to stay by your side, but… I want to, but…”
“Go. There’s no need to worry.”
“I can still save them… I can still save them! So hold on until then—please!”
Ester clenched her teeth and ran.
In truth she would rather have helped the one person she cared about than a crowd of classmates she barely knew.
Unfortunately Ester had not been raised that way, nor taught that way.
Her nature made her choose the many in the end.
Meanwhile Laward, left with her back to him, exhaled a long breath.
“Huu…”
The enemy had grown stronger.
Its intent was still opaque.
The healer had left her post.
Even so, the protagonist had no choice but to choose.
He would challenge it.
He would challenge it again.
Hum—
A halo engraved itself above his head.
Clearer than before.
Unmistakably dyed black.
A form different from Daywin’s heat or Chris’s edge.
The texture of rusted, broken, aged metal.
A crude, rough ring circled Laward’s head.
It creaked as it turned in place.
Fwoosh!
His sword darkened.
As always, only the very edge of the blade was sheathed in holy power.
The color was far too murky to call holy—
Thud—
Yet the will behind the fresh stance he took was already that of a Holy Knight.
Laward’s eyes locked on the undead’s empty sockets.
With no light to read, predicting its next move was harder still.
So abandon prediction. Watch and react. That was best.
And if even that felt uncertain—
“First strike.”
Shing—
Laward kicked off the ground and thrust.
He ignored the spear’s reach advantage and drove straight into its guard.
In a flash the point streaked for the neck.
And—
Thuck!
It hit.
Laward’s sword, Holiday, punched clean through the undead’s cervical vertebrae.
The feel of bone shattering under the blade was superb. Even a war hero could not have dodged Laward’s furious acceleration.
“Hah.”
He thought that, and exhaled in relief—
Crrrk—
The severed skull was already reattaching itself.
And it was already too late.
Swish!
The undead’s spear hammered down toward Laward’s right arm.
Bang!
He used a stun spell as propulsion and twisted clear, but the undead had predicted even that and flowed into a continuous motion.
The spear that had missed and buried itself in the earth became a vaulting pole; the skeleton spun around it.
It loaded the rotation and kicked Laward with devastating speed.
Thud!
Again.
Again.
He flew limply, smashed into the wall, and slid down the dirt floor.
Blood streaming from his forehead soaked both eyes.
The whole world turned red.
The undead, once more losing interest in Laward, simply walked on.
This time toward the opposite side of the entrance.
Scrape, scraaape—
Laward crawled after it.
Clack—
Then he seized a bony ankle.
“I don’t know where you’re headed.”
Just as the undead had seized his ankle earlier.
“But leaving when we still have unfinished business is pretty rude, don’t you think?”
He coughed up blood and glared with scarlet eyes.
“They said you lived a hundred years before me, so I tried to show some manners like I promised my teacher…”
Crunch!
The undead stomped on Laward’s head.
“Ghh…”
Even as consciousness frayed, he did not let go.
If he released it now, the classmates Ester was barely keeping alive might be attacked again.
He hated to admit it, but he had to protect their only healer—Ester.
The moment Laward thought that, Ester’s third ending—
the conditions for Ending Number Three—were on the verge of completion.
Laward, trying to protect Ester.
And challenging for the third time.
Crrrk!
Just as Laward planted a hand on the ground and began to rise—
Flutter—
The sound of wings spread through the air.
“This is…”
Light like sunlight left afterimages as it stopped right in front of Laward’s eyes.
“…a spirit.”
A Light Spirit.
A tiny fairy fluttered its wings, circling between Laward and the undead.
“I see.”
Laward huffed a laugh and let his head drop again.
Relief flooded him; the strength left his body.
He abandoned the rematch.
It was all right now.
“So… that was it.”
BOOM!
The Light Spirit, having gathered every scrap of light it could hold, detonated in front of the undead’s skull.
The head vanished completely.
While the thing staggered, another blast.
BOOM!
The area near the entrance exploded, blasting open the blocked path.
“Heh… heh-heh…”
Laward planted his forehead on the floor, covered the back of his head with one hand, and laughed.
“It wasn’t keeping us from getting out… it was keeping something from getting in. This bastard… of course an undead would… heh-heh-heh…”
It was the posture of someone bracing for a massive explosion.
A mana detonation that made no distinction between friend and foe.
Light poured through the newly opened gap in the entrance, and the silhouette of a knight commander appeared.
“You certainly know how to spot a natural enemy.”
A knight commander.
Two of them, no less.