Duel with the Cursed Sword
KA-ANG! CHAENG! CHAE-AENG!
Crisp rings of steel rang out one after another.
Against the backdrop of the towering castle wall, two boys fought spinning and circling with enormous blades slung over their shoulders—a clash so dazzling it might have been a sword dance performed by master artists.
KA-AAANG!
The shock of parrying his opponent's weapon sent Simon sliding backward.
Both hands gripping the hilt trembled violently. A blister must have burst, because even the rough finish of the greatsword stung against his skin.
"Well done."
His opponent, Jule, praised him without reserve as he raised his longsword—or rather, his sheath.
A composed expression. And the blade still had not left its scabbard.
...Why would he swing it without ever drawing the real blade? It doesn't feel like he's going easy on me.
"Watch out, Simon!"
At Dick's shout from behind, Simon's head turned.
"Jule is a Cursed Sword user!"
A Cursed Sword. Literally, a blade that had been cursed. It was said to grant its wielder tremendous power in exchange for blood, death, and every manner of misfortune.
In the past, even the greatest knights had shied away from wielding them, but ever since the age of the great necromancers had dawned, necromancers—long accustomed to curses—had begun laying hands on such weapons.
...A Cursed Sword user. Honestly, every kind of necromancer under the sun exists, huh.
Simon clicked his tongue after hearing Dick's explanation.
Tap.
Then Jule thrust his sheath into his belt and took a stance, hilt facing forward.
The moment his hand closed around it—
SHWAAAAAAAACK!
A massive sword strike carved a straight line across the castle wall behind him. The wall shuddered as if it would collapse, fragments raining down and kicking up clouds of dust all around.
Simon, who had dodged by bending backward, stared at Jule with round, gaping eyes.
...Draw-sword technique?
But he hadn't even seen him draw the blade.
Was he pulling the sword out of that enormous sheath, loosing a strike, and sheathing it again at a speed invisible to the eye?
If he truly had that level of skill, there would be no need to insist on draw-sword strikes at all—he could simply overwhelm Simon outright.
"Simon! That's the power of Jule's Cursed Sword!"
According to Dick, Jule's technique really was a form of draw-sword art.
Jule unmistakably performed the full sequence—swinging the sword to release a strike and returning it to its sheath—but to anyone watching, that scene was skipped over, becoming an event that had never happened in this world.
It simply looked as though Jule was standing in place, quietly holding the hilt.
This was no mere trick of the eye or cheap illusion.
It was a reversal of causality—a power verging on the manipulation of reality itself.
The opponent never sees Jule swing the Cursed Sword. Jule alone swings it, yet in this world the act becomes something that never occurred, leaving only the result of the swing.
...That's an absurd ability. Though, thankfully...
Simon steadied his breath and raised his greatsword.
It looks like it burns a lot of Jet-Black, and after one use there's a delay before the next.
Just as Simon had predicted, Jule pulled the sheath from his belt and charged. Simon gritted his teeth and swung his greatsword to meet him.
KA-ANG!
The two of them traded blows in another dizzying exchange. Simon's pitch-black greatsword, layered with enchantment, crashed against Jule's crimson sheath, sending sparks scattering in every direction.
"Magnificent! To think you're this skilled with a blade as well!"
Jule wore an expression of pure delight, but Simon's gaze had drifted elsewhere.
With Jule's arrival, the allied soldiers had given up climbing the ladders against the wall. Dick was directing them toward the inner castle's south gate—a sound decision.
"Dick! You head to the inner castle too! I'll deal with Jule somehow!"
"Wha—got it! Stay safe!"
Dick moved off with the soldiers, calling back one last warning.
"Just so you know—if the Cursed Sword cuts you directly, you'll be cursed! You can't afford to take even a single hit!"
Easier said than done...!
KA-ANG!
Blade met sheath in a violent burst of sparks.
Jule's right foot drove hard forward as he swung the sheath. In the same motion, he shoved Simon's greatsword upward with it, and Simon caught a glimpse of his hand snapping onto the hilt.
!
Having read the sequence, Simon released the greatsword from his hands and threw his body aside.
SHWAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
The straight-line strike sheared through the spot where Simon had been standing and slammed into the castle wall.
Still not spent, the strike climbed the wall's face until it finally burst apart at the top, flaring a huge blossom of sparks into the sky.
Whoa.
Cold sweat poured down Simon's back. A deep crack now split the castle wall.
H-he could genuinely bring down the whole wall by himself if he wanted to, couldn't he?
He was Special Admission No. 5, and the saying that he was Kizen's strongest when in top condition hadn't come from nowhere.
Jule stomped down on the greatsword Simon had dropped and spoke.
"A hasty dodge, to be sure—but what do you intend to do now that you've thrown away your weapon?"
Jule raised his sheath upright and charged in a straight line.
Without a word, Simon extended his right arm. A magic circle was drawn across his palm.
Curse!
As Jule's eyes were drawn to the circle, he spun his whole body in an instant, deflecting the greatsword that came flying in from behind with a metallic clang.
So close!
It had been a carefully planted feint, but Jule had a swordsman's instincts.
The greatsword whirled through the air in a wide arc before snapping—tak!—back into Simon's hand.
I got the idea from Pier's Sword of Ruin.
A skeleton's bone, attached in advance, waited at the hilt.
Simon re-gripped the greatsword, and Jule charged. The two boys met weapon to weapon once more and began fighting ferociously, yielding not a single inch.
"HAAAH!"
"Kgh!"
CHAE-AE-AE-AENG!
The hand gripping his sword trembled uncontrollably. Predicting his opponent's blade paths was maddeningly difficult.
CRACK!
For the first time, he allowed a hit to his flank.
His Barrier Gauge plummeted by a huge chunk, and Simon retched dryly. Even swung through a sheath, a clean hit would have shattered his ribs.
As Simon staggered, Jule retreated a single step and took the draw-sword stance, hilt facing forward.
Dodge!
Simon immediately threw himself sideways.
SHWAAAAACK!
Just as expected, the strike launched head-on. But—
KA-AAAANG!
Simon had instinctively thrust his greatsword forward. The crimson sword strike slammed against it.
A second strike with draw-sword arts?
The Cursed Sword's invisible movements were terrifyingly threatening. Neither sight nor sound gave any hint of which way the blade would come. He had to dodge on instinct alone.
And if that instinct failed to fire, or he misjudged? In a real battle, he'd be cut clean in two.
"Fighting blade to blade with a student of Kizen is a pleasure—but I confess I cannot understand why one who aspires to Summoning would fight with a sword."
Jule re-gripped his Cursed Sword as he spoke.
"Show me your true strength. Unless you bring out that 'Royal Guard' you pride yourself on, you have no chance of winning."
So that was the goal all along.
Jule had come targeting Simon from the start. It was surely Elisa's order.
If Jule killed Simon, perfect. And even if Jule fell, Simon would have to exhaust the Royal Guard—a technique that consumed massive amounts of Jet-Black and blood—and collapse afterward. Either way, she wouldn't lose.
...There's no need to dance to Elisa's tune.
If he burned any more Jet-Black here, even operating the Skeleton Mages to set the fires would become a strain.
Run!
Decision made.
Simon summoned a skeleton from his subspace and donned his Bone Armour.
Thinking Simon was finally ready to fight properly, Jule waited with a satisfied smile—but—
FWEEET!
Simon hurled the greatsword straight at him. While Jule blocked it, Simon turned his back and bolted.
"No!"
Jule's face flooded with disbelief.
"Wh-what manner of duelist shows his opponent his back mid-fight! Halt!"
Simon ignored him lightly and sprinted toward the castle wall. Jule panted after him in hot pursuit.
Come back!
He reclaimed the greatsword he'd thrown at Jule, raised Jet-Black in both feet, and ran up the wall.
TAT!
Jule, chasing close behind, scaled the wall after him.
"I told you to halt! A swordsman fleeing with his back turned—have you no shame!"
Sorry, but I'm a necromancer.
Just then, the soldiers atop the wall spotted the two of them.
"Squeak! It's the Commander-in-Chief!"
"The one-eyed one next to him is the enemy! Fire!"
The archer-soldiers unleashed a hail of arrows solely at Jule.
But Jule moved his sheath to swat down every incoming arrow, and at last caught up to Simon.
Y-you're following me all the way here?
Simon crested the inner castle's wall, and Jule, scrambling up behind him, swung his sheath even as he ran.
KA-ANG! CHAENG! CHAE-ANG!
The weapons of the two boys racing along the wall's edge clashed again and again.
"HOOH!"
Jule briefly halted his assault and gripped the Cursed Sword's hilt, while Simon hurriedly raised his greatsword before him.
KA-AAAAAAAANG!
Jule's strike hit Simon's greatsword head-on.
The greatsword finally shattered, and the impact sent Simon's body flying clean off the wall.
"Tch!"
"C-Commander-in-Chief!"
Even as he fell, Simon swiftly extended his fingers.
The teal Cloud shot out like a rope and latched onto the top of the wall. The Cloud pulled taut, yanking Simon's body back toward the wall.
"Out of the way, nuisances!"
Jule came barreling through the soldiers. The weapons swinging at him from all sides he simply smashed apart with a flick of his sheath, closing the distance to Simon, who had barely landed.
Persistent!
Simon flicked out his index finger.
Sickness
The curse of vertigo shot out like a flash of light, but Jule lightly raised his sheath before him and blocked it.
The instant the curse touched the sheath, it shattered into fragments and vanished, as though Cancellation had gone off.
"The Cursed Sword is the king of all curses! Such attacks won't work on me!"
Jule's headlong charge was reminiscent of a berserker.
Attacks flooded in from every side, opening gashes in him and grinding down his Barrier Gauge, yet he paid it no mind whatsoever.
For all his simple, exotic looks, his obsessive devotion to battle was every bit what one would expect of a Cursed Sword user.
"HAH!"
In the end, Simon descended from the wall. This was the heart of the fortress—the central city district, accessible only after breaching the inner castle.
There's no way even Elisa would order him to chase me this far—!
FWOOSH!
But Jule, too, finally came down from the wall. Simon let out a hollow laugh.
If he'll follow me this far, I've got no choice.
Simon raced down the sloped steps of the city district, Jule close behind.
KRRRRRRAK-BOOM!
The moment Jule touched the sheath's hilt, a fissure tore through the residential quarter above, and with a thunderous roar the whole thing collapsed—bricks and houses crashing down to block Simon's path.
RUMBLE!
Simon twisted and darted between the flying debris until a thick cloud of dust swallowed his figure.
"HOOH!"
Jule swept the dust cloud away clean with a swing of his sheath—and in his vision appeared Simon, prone on the ground.
"Got you!"
Jule lunged at him instantly—but an emerald blade-light erupting from straight ahead struck his sheath.
"!"
Jule flinched and fell back a step.
"From this point on—"
Amid the settling dust, a company of skeleton swordsmen in flapping teal cloaks had surrounded Jule.
"—I'll use my full strength."
Said Simon, placing the emerald crown upon his head.
Only then did Jule break into a smile and seize the Cursed Sword's hilt.
"Show me the strength of Special Admission No. 1! I'll gladly take the lesson!"
"Before you do—"
With Simon's outstretched hand as the signal, all twenty-three members of the Royal Guard charged like flashes of lightning.
"—I'm ending this in one stroke."