Chapter 173
Chapter 173
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: Intense Clash
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Intense.
Sand whipped up everywhere, making it hard to make out the surroundings, but even from the fleeting glimpses, it was clear the two were locked in a fierce battle.
'...Evenly matched?'
This would be astonishing to anyone else.
As El Quaizer had mentioned, Roze was only in her first year.
No matter how talented she was, it was hard to imagine her holding her own head-on against the captain.
And El Quaizer wasn't just some nobody.
'Sure, his personality's a total mess, but he's got real talent, no doubt.'
What he'd said to Vasimut wasn't empty talk.
He was the greatest talent of his generation.
Hailed as a prodigy destined to reach the top within twenty years.
But contrary to everyone's expectations, El Quaizer had taken an utterly unexpected path.
After years on the front lines proving his excellence, he'd suddenly stepped back.
He'd holed up in an independent unit in a region heavy with royal influence.
His activity dropped off, and if there was nothing going on in his area, he wouldn't show his face at all.
Sure, he'd taken the captain position and shown strength befitting it, but compared to the hype, it felt downright underwhelming.
"Using illusions?"
"Doesn't look like plain illusions."
"They've got substance. And it's not just one."
"Would've been nice if I'd been his opponent."
From that brief glimpse, Sahm and Barton had nearly perfectly deduced El Quaizer's ability.
Phantom Sword.
The power to materialize and control illusions of imagined weapons.
The stronger and more precise the mental image, the more powerfully it manifested.
That's why El Quaizer had chosen focus.
Ever since gaining his ability, he'd devoted himself to a single sword, perfecting one that wouldn't break and moved like light.
And he could generate multiple ones, forcing his enemies into the unfair position of facing several at once.
'...Not quite there yet, though.'
But that was future knowledge.
From the original story's depiction.
If he'd already reached that level, even Roze couldn't have held up.
I watched for a moment before asking Sahm.
"How's his swordsmanship?"
"Tough to judge. His ability makes it differ a lot from standard techniques. Still, if he can clash with Roze like that, he's above average, I'd say."
"Impressive."
No easy humans around here.
El Quaizer fought Roze with cold precision, as if his earlier display had been a lie.
He minimized losses like it was a numbers game, trading blows back and forth.
Roze didn't try to break through in one go either.
She steadily probed, constantly gauging the Phantom Sword's power.
'As expected, fights between humans are a whole different beast.'
Against aliens, that kind of number-crunching barely existed.
Even with small high-grade ones.
They skipped the feints and went straight for the kill the moment they clashed.
Barring named individuals with high intelligence, that was the norm.
Good for humanity.
Humans usually held the info advantage and exploited it well.
If every alien used their heads fully, humanity's defeat might've been sealed.
'No, if their brains developed that far, they'd gain ego and independence, probably shooting themselves in the foot.'
Watching the fight, my mind wandered to all sorts of things.
Then, suddenly.
Chills!
My hairs stood on end, cold sweat beading instantly.
"You're unusual."
A chilling voice pierced my ear.
I forced my stiff neck to turn and look behind me.
There stood Vasimut, his greatsword dangling low.
He was staring right at me.
"...Vasimut."
Why had he come to me?
The reason was obvious.
'Roze.'
Vasimut wanted Roze.
At this point in time, with his grand plans brewing, he was hungry for talent—someone he could understand and control.
He wanted to pull her in.
But her growth had outpaced expectations, and he'd missed his chance.
"I've looked into you a bit."
Sahm and Barton moved to flank me.
Normally, it'd feel like having an army at my back, but against Vasimut, no sense of security.
"The more I dug, the more surprised I got. When I learned you owned the Salmon Lab, I figured you for a researcher type."
"..."
"But meeting you face-to-face today, that doesn't seem to fit."
"What do you want?" I cut straight to it.
This guy wouldn't back off just because I was shaking or avoiding him.
Better to end the awkwardness quick.
"I want Roze. Send her to me."
"Why should I?"
"I know what she needs. Stuck in a peaceful spot like the Styx front, she'll just build up frustrations. You can't fix that."
"..."
"But your bond with her seems deeper than average, so I can't force it. Guess I have to ask you."
My throat tightened.
Vasimut was trying to persuade me as best he could.
For a guy who solved most things with brute force, this showed how much he valued Roze.
'Send Roze to him?'
I thought it over deeply.
It was a dilemma I'd been mulling myself.
Back at the academy, my presence had definitely accelerated her growth.
Roze, Merdi, Barton, Sahm—we'd all synergized and leveled up together.
But after becoming superhumans, things changed.
'In the original...'
The environment they'd faced was brutal.
The Triple Link zone was wildly unstable and collapsed in months.
The fourth defensive line vanished, leaving the third as the last stand.
In that world, Roze and Merdi racked up countless feats.
But being with me had altered that future.
Instead of solo heroics, we'd tackled hatcheries in independent unit ops, piling up experience.
Adventurous stuff, multiple times.
They'd crammed in what others took ten years for, no exaggeration.
Still, hard to say which was better.
About even, if I was generous.
That balance tipped hard once we hit official superhuman first-year status.
'Roze was originally supposed to go to Vasimut this year.'
After transferring to the Styx front, the intensity in her life had dropped.
More leisure meant more time teaching squadmates.
Leaving her there might waste her talent.
Sending her to Vasimut eliminated that worry.
She'd grow amid frontline hell and stimulation from him and the Cerberus superhumans.
But I couldn't decide easily.
"Is it personal feelings holding you back?"
"..."
"Then set them aside for now. You know what's important." I paused my thoughts.
I'd tried piecing together reasons and justifications for sending her, but nothing sat right.
For her growth, yes—but was it absolutely necessary?
Did I have to ditch personal feelings for the 'greater good' and play the optimal move?
And those feelings to discard might not be mine alone. 'Your answer?'
My hazy focus sharpened on Vasimut.
In this situation, my response was set.
Ask Roze herself.
Pass the buck, say it was her call, dump the weight on her.
But not anymore.
"I refuse."
"Even if it's what Roze wants?"
"She'd never want to leave me. And even if she did, I wouldn't send her easily. Roze is mine."
"Selfish."
"Humans are selfish by nature."
"Fine."
Vasimut's expression darkened.
No visible change, but I felt it.
"Let's see if your words hold weight."
The moment Vasimut finished speaking, my vision flipped.
"Cough!!"
Coming to, I was rolling through the sand, plowing it up with my body.
I'd blocked, or so I thought—yet I'd been flung hundreds of meters.
'Where's Vasimut...?'
I yanked my blade out full-length, slammed it into the ground, steadied myself, and looked ahead.
Vasimut had repelled Sahm and Barton's flank attacks, now pointing his greatsword straight at me.
'...Danger!'
My head screamed warning as a simplified Crimson Cannon fired, engulfing everything ahead.
Red afterimages blinded me.
But even that didn't fully stop his straightforward strike.
"Urk...!"
I raised my blade to block the remnants.
If I'd let my guard down, my chest would've been pierced.
'No holding back.'
Vasimut was coming at me like he meant to kill.
Sure, he called it a test or whatever, but he was venting frustration too.
So I activated the Infection Lord's Blessing, risks be damned.
My body heated up, surging with vitality and thick euphoria.
Like being high—I felt I could do anything.
But that buzz vanished the next instant at his voice.
"That's all?"
Vasimut had broken through them completely and stood before me.
His greatsword, raised skyward, plummeted toward my head.
I knew I couldn't dodge recklessly and met it head-on. 'Too...fast!'
Half a beat late.
The greatsword shattered my barrier, sliced my blocking left palm, and dug into bone.
Lucky it didn't sever.
But the blade's pressure buckled my stance.
"If you can't hold, then die."
"Argh...!"
Gravity intensified.
Excess pressure bulged my eyes, twisted muscles, bent my knees.
Veins crushed, airway blocked—my head felt like it was burning.
This was Vasimut's ability.
Gravity Control.
Pain.
It hurt.
Since bulking up my body, had I ever taken a hit this heavy in one go?
Not even against the Beholder, yet Vasimut landed it despite Sahm and Barton's interference.
'He really swung to kill.'
Psycho.
No way I'd just take it.
My right arm's tattoo faded.
The gravity crushing me got sucked away.
"Hm?"
Freed from Gravity Control, but his greatsword still weighed down.
Probably amplifying its weight—his own included—with gravity.
I gripped Vasimut's wrist holding the greatsword with my right hand.
Then grinned and said.
"My strength's greater."
I drained the power from Vasimut's body while injecting invasive energy.
Suddenly, the greatsword lightened.
'Got it!'
I planned to absorb his barrier too and feed him a full Crimson Cannon.
But as I tried shoving the blade in my left hand away to aim, I lost balance completely and face-planted.
He'd used my grip on his arm against me with a grapple.
"...Guh!"
Impact pierced my chest, breath cut off again.
But this hit stung more mentally than physically.
Not a gap in ability or power—just beaten by basic technique.
Vasimut casually reset his stance and slung his greatsword over his shoulder.
Prepping another attack.
I springboarded up in a hurry.
Crack!!
Before I could fully stance, ice crystals appeared before me, exploding outward at insane speed to cover everything ahead.
'...Chance!'
Barton's intent was probably to separate me from Vasimut.
But it gave me ample time for a clean Crimson Cannon shot.
'With Infection Lord's Blessing active, I can charge even faster.'
R3D3 maxed amplification within the timeframe, matching my intent.
Just as I figured I had enough energy for a solid hit, I fired without hesitation.
'Die!'
Aiming?
My horns were hyper-activated; I knew Vasimut's position blind.
As the ice wall shattered, I caught Vasimut's lip curl faintly.
"Impressive."
Explosion.
Blinding light spread, obscuring vision.
But I definitely felt it.
'I missed.'
At the last second, the Crimson Cannon's trajectory had twisted against my will.