The Strongest Knight: Ice Fang, Crush the Enemy

A massive icicle plummeted toward the lanky bastard's head. Flanking him were Camellia and Ricardo. If he dodged, he'd eat their attacks. If he stayed put, the giant icicle would crush him. Back in my internet days, we had a name for this exact situation.

The ultimate formation for annihilating your foes: Encirclement Annihilation Array.

"I don't particularly enjoy these trivial tricks or mind games, so..."

The dark blue blade flashed before anyone could react. His robe fluttered wildly. The falling icicle shattered into countless tiny fragments, like shaved ice raining down as hail across the ground.

I couldn't process what I'd just seen. That enormous block of ice had been reduced to powder in a single motion?

"I'd appreciate it if you could at least spark some interest in me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heroes."

"Shut your mouth, you monster fucker..."

Ricardo, who had taken on the role of defender, was already drenched in blood. He'd intercepted every single attack aimed at me or Camellia, and it had cost him dearly.

"Why not unleash a little of your true power? As you can see, I'm not an opponent you can afford to fight while holding back."

The moment he mentioned full power, both Ricardo's and Camellia's expressions shifted.

How much does this bastard even know...?

"Ah, allow me to correct myself. What I mean is, use your Hero's Relics."

How the hell did he know about those?

The Hero's Relics were a core system from Dragnity Fantasy 1. To be exact, they were tools that grew alongside their owners, but in practice it was just a system where you dumped skill points to define your playstyle. After the battles of the first game concluded, however, most of the relics were lost. That was why most of the heroes in the sequel couldn't perform at the same level as before. Some users even sent the developers five-thousand-seven-hundred-character protest letters complaining about the inconvenient gameplay. And the majority of those users never returned. Most had probably just quit in disappointment.

"...There's no need to use a relic on the likes of you."

"Hmm... Still posturing until the very end. In that case, I'll simply have to drive you into a corner where using them becomes inevitable."

After he finished speaking, the lanky bastard's killing intent surged to a whole new level. So he'd been suppressing it this entire time...? Was this guy Frieza or something, playing around at ten percent power? Personally, I hated bastards who fought like that the most—testing the waters, measuring their opponents while holding back.

Blue energy gathered along the dark blue blade, then exploded outward like a bursting wave. The force was so intense it actually shoved me, Camellia, and Ricardo back a step.

"Since I've gone to the trouble of releasing the restraint, it would be wise to fight with everything you have."

"Restraint my ass..."

What kind of twisted SM bullshit was he pulling with his sword? Calling it a restraint like that—what a fucking lunatic.

"The first restraint of Arondight: The user can only swing the sword sideways. I have now removed that limitation. Do you understand the meaning?"

Come to think of it, his sword swings had looked unnatural from the very beginning. So this bastard had been fighting with his attack trajectories restricted this entire time? Against all three of us?

The lanky bastard closed the distance toward me at terrifying speed. I backpedaled and my stance crumbled slightly, slipping on the blood Meragius had spilled. Even in death that useless Meramon bastard was still causing problems. In all my years I'd never met a more worthless nymph.

I was ready to sacrifice an arm for a counterattack, but Ricardo's shield slammed into the lanky bastard's sword first. A deafening boom like a cannon blast rang out.

"Your shield work is truly first-rate. However, with your supporters in that condition, you're simply pushing yourself too hard, aren't you?"

A trickle of blood leaked from the corner of the lanky bastard's mouth. It seemed even he had struggled to fully receive Ricardo's strike.

"Shut the fuck up, you bastard... You're dying right here..."

"Pardon?"

"Three hundred and fifty-seven children missing. Thirty-nine confirmed dead... Do you understand what those numbers mean?"

"This is a battle. It is neither the time for philosophical debate, nor for playing with numbers."

"I used to be just like you are now... a real piece of shit. I didn't understand how precious family ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was... I spouted garbage like 'Haven't I compensated you enough?'... But once I gained a family of my own, I finally got it. I understood just how precious they are, and how desperately I didn't want to lose them..."

Ricardo's shield began pushing the lanky bastard's sword back, inch by inch.

"I was the one who delivered the news of those children's deaths... Yet the parents didn't care that I was a noble. They grabbed me by the collar and screamed. 'Bring back my child,' they cried... But I'm a knight. Bringing back the dead is not something I can do..."

"Then what exactly are you trying to accomplish now?"

"A knight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can never save the dead... But he can punish the bastard who killed them. And he can say 'I'm sorry' to his friend. No—he must. Fuck... It just took me far too long to realize that..."

For some reason, Ricardo's emotions flooded into me. His iron determination to protect me and Camellia. His burning rage toward the lanky bastard who had caused the children's deaths. And the heavy guilt he felt toward Melchior, the man he'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once treated as an enemy due to old family grudges. Those three powerful feelings were swirling violently inside him.

Yet even before that storm of emotion, the lanky bastard didn't so much as blink. He answered in a completely detached voice.

"In the end, all humans die. The only difference is when that moment arrives."

"Then you should be the one to die."

"Unfortunately, I have no intention of meekly accepting death from the weak."

"You really do have a silver tongue."

Ricardo shoved the lanky bastard away with raw power. Not with both hands—with one.

"Foolish. A mere push with a shield won't kill even a kitten."

"Obviously. Because you're not a cat—you're going to die like the cockroach you are."

"What...?"

Ricardo pulled a single gauntlet from within his coat.

"Ricardo! That's..."

"Brother, that is..."

It was one of the Hero's Relics that had been reported lost. Among all the incredibly powerful relics, this was the one with perfect compatibility for Ricardo—the Giant's Gauntlet. It dramatically boosted the user's strength and raised their physical durability and regeneration by an equal amount. It was the ultimate advantage for anyone who played Ricardo in the game. The so-called stat pig.

"I must express my gratitude for His Majesty's benevolence in discovering this at auction and bestowing it upon me. Though it has been lost for quite some time, so restoring its full power will take considerable effort."

Now that he mentioned it, His Majesty had asked Ricardo to remain behind separately. So that was why.

"Brother, what about ours?"

"Unfortunately, the only relic His Majesty discovered was this one meant for me."

What kind of donkey-dick plot convenience was this? It wasn't some random item—it was a relic. Would it have killed them to sell the damn things as a set? They sell hamburgers in sets, so why the hell can't relics come in sets? It was genuinely disappointing. If I'd had my own relic, I might have been able to use Grand Magic to at least some degree.

Seeing Ricardo prepare to use his relic, Camellia seemed to steel her resolve as well. She looked ready to fight seriously now.

"I cannot simply stand by. Even though I have lost my own relic... I must fight with the resolve to die."

Fighting spirit blazed in her eyes. The gaze that had always been rational and icy cold was now burning with intensity.

I couldn't remain idle either.

Lightning, become my armor.

An even stronger current than before surged across my body. I settled into the fundamental stance of Heavenly Demon Combat... no, the basic posture of absolute fist technique. That way, if he closed in again, I could greet him with a stinging electric shock followed by a short, explosive strike.

The moment all three of us assumed proper fighting stances, the lanky bastard finally let out a satisfied chuckle.

This guy must have middle-school syndrome. Every word, every action was so cringeworthy it made me want to die.

"That level of resolve makes releasing the first restraint worthwhile. Come then."

The instant he finished speaking, Ricardo charged. With that speed and mass, it was no different from a train barreling forward. Even the lanky bastard seemed to find the momentum troublesome; he twisted his body slightly to the side to evade.

Of course, I had predicted that.

He noticed me rushing in from his blind spot and tried to defend in a hurry, but my kick was faster. The lanky bastard took an electric kick straight to the gut, staggered, and lost his balance. Ricardo and Camellia didn't miss the opening.

A spear and sword flew toward him from both sides, forcing him to choose which blow to take.

Swish!

The spear missed, but the sword cut something. The problem was that it hadn't taken his neck—it had only sliced away the hood of his robe.

As the hood fell away, glossy black hair and sharply pointed ears were revealed. Camellia's eyes widened, her pupils trembling violently.

"Y-you are..."

Now that his face was exposed, the lanky bastard spoke in a tone that suggested he could no longer be bothered to pretend.

"I am the one granted the name Lancelot, First Seat of the Black Round Table, and the holy sword Arondight. Unfortunately, the game ends here."

His figure began melting into the shadows. Camellia shouted desperately.

"Wait!"

Despite her cry, Lancelot cut her off with cold indifference.

"I have nothing to discuss with you."