Chapter 211: Soar, Vermilion Bird
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 211: Soar, Vermilion Bird
First, for the sake of peaceful negotiations, I laid out the situation for Historia.
“You want to drag me to Public Safety to interrogate me and uncover the truth. I get it. Mhmm, you definitely need the upper hand to force someone to do something.”
Just like me. Look. Now that I have the advantage, I’m the one initiating the conversation.
“But the tables have turned, haven’t they? To be honest, it’s not thanks to my own power, but my companions are so strong that we’re the ones with the overwhelming advantage now. I’m the one in the favorable position, right?”
“…Get to the point.”
“So impatient. This is what I'm trying to say. Since our situations are reversed, why not reverse your plan to capture me?”
‘…What is he saying? No way.’
Perhaps because we were once classmates, Historia quickly understood what I was getting at.
Her delayed reaction was only because the content was so hard to accept.
“Looks like you've got the gist of it. That's right. Is me getting caught the only way? Isn't that just your fixed mindset? Now that things have changed, shouldn't you be a little more flexible?”
There’s no need for me to get caught just to reveal the truth.
Flip your thinking! Reverse it!
Instead of me, you should just let me capture you and become my prisoner!
‘…Me? Get captured? By you?’
“Yes! It's not a bad deal. If we have a hostage, we can rest easy. The Military State won't want any more losses, so they'll stop this pointless chase. Plus, with the pursuit off my back, I'll be in a much better mood to talk. You might even hear the story you're looking for! How about it?”
A paradigm shift that shatters preconceptions. If she just accepted this, her safety would be guaranteed, and we could shake off the Military State’s pursuit at the same time. The Military State would also benefit from not wasting its strength.
I was almost proud of myself for coming up with it. Thinking outside the box is easier said than done. It's so difficult in practice that I had to admire my own genius.
And yet, Historia showed her chronic suspicion.
“…Even if I let you take me prisoner, there's no guarantee you'll tell the truth.”
“Ah, was that the problem?”
Such a trivial issue. I laughed off Historia’s suspicion.
“Hahaha. Ria. You're making a huge mistake. Do you really think I'd tell the truth if I was taken to Public Safety and subjected to something like torture?”
“…You.”
“No. And even if I did tell the truth, surrounded by so many interested parties, would you be able to believe me?”
‘…Honestly, I can’t. This bastard could trick someone even with a gag in his mouth.’
I couldn’t tell if I should be happy that my plan was working as she immediately denied it, or sad that my credibility was at rock bottom.
Is the only thing I can be trusted on the fact that I can't be trusted?
“But I'll make you a promise. My companions are also quite curious about what happened back then. If you let me capture you, you might be able to overhear me telling them. You don't really think I'd lie to the new companions who just saved my life, do you?”
‘Yes.’
Historia affirmed it in her mind but didn’t dare say it aloud.
‘But… if I don't trust a single word he says, I'll never hear the story of that day. In the end, I have to compromise to some extent….’
It seems she’s made up her mind. Good, this worked out well. I’m glad Historia is a rational person, just like the Military State.
Sensing her resolve weaken, I slowly approached her.
“Good. Now, just play along. Remember what we practiced in sparring? Let's go with Move 3.”
Historia didn’t answer. Instead, she simply raised her arms.
The second reason I wore armor: it makes me look strong. Even if my movements are clumsy and slow, no one will notice from a distance.
Now, let the charade begin.
*
The general's combat arm. A Triplespear. It was a weapon made for Patraxion's ultimate techniques, a three-sectioned staff with spearheads attached to both ends.
When infused with Qi, its joints would lock, giving it the unique property of becoming a long spear, a flail, or a three-sectioned staff depending on how it was wielded.
Clad in his armor and wielding his combat arm, Patraxion stood fully equipped to face the Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka.
“Hup!”
The curved shaft of the spear struck the Progenitor's head. CRACK! The Triplespear, in its flail form, slipped past Tyr's guard and smashed into her temple. Tyr's head snapped to the side.
It was a blow that would have been fatal even to a bear. But to the Progenitor, a bear was a mere trifle.
Not a single drop of blood emerged from the slightly torn temple.
“…Impressive. There have been few knights in history your equal.”
The wound he had painstakingly created healed, and her turned head returned to its original position. Nothing had changed from before his attack. Faced with such an irrational exchange, Patraxion let out a hollow laugh.
“Ha, not to brag, but I'm in the history books myself... Which is to say, I'm pretty famous.”
Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Patraxion leaped forward. Sliding across the ground with the momentum of his charge, he unleashed his ultimate technique. The firmly gripped shaft combined countless curves into one, drawing a clean trajectory.
Ultimate technique, Sunderspear.
A single curve, nearly a straight line, pierced through space.
The spear that pierced a kingdom, the ultimate technique that defined an era, unfolded from Patraxion's fingertips.
The attack tore through Tyr’s blood, bone, muscle, and flesh, shattering her collarbone and emerging from her back. It would have been an irrecoverable, grievous blow for any human.
If she were human, that is.
Patraxion muttered.
“Shit. Shouldn't have used that.”
With the palms of her hands, Tyr struck the Triplespear piercing her body.
One should never break a spear embedded in a body like that. The shaft would tear the insides apart, and it was an act that belittled the grand feat of a spear piercing a living being.
But what did it matter? His opponent was the Progenitor of vampires.
No matter how sturdy, the joints were inevitably a point where force would concentrate. The joints snapped, and the final section of the Triplespear broke off.
Now gripping what had become a two-sectioned spear, Patraxion cursed someone who wasn't there.
“That bastard Warforger... I told him. The best weapon is just a sturdy one.”
“He would feel wronged. It is hardly the weapon’s fault that it broke.”
Tyr pulled out the spear section embedded in her body. Despite having just been removed, not a single drop of blood stained the shaft.
Instead, Tyr grazed her own arm with the tip of the spearhead, letting a drop of blood hang from it before swinging it wide.
Her blood refused to leave her body, but when wounded, she could control it for a brief moment before it was reabsorbed.
She flicked the spear, launching the blood clinging to it. A crimson slash erupted, spreading out in a radial blast.
Patraxion, sensing the threat instinctively, gripped his spear shaft tightly and watched the exploding blood.
‘It’s powerful. I have to dodge or block it!’
The decision was instantaneous.
He leaped back, repelling it with Qi Deflection, swinging his long spear to deaden the momentum, and blocking with his armor. Even after taking the brunt of the bloody torrent, Patraxion was unharmed.
‘Her movements are wide, her momentum ferocious! It's easy to read! However…!’
But could he really say he was unharmed? He had expended a fair amount of Qi and been pushed back.
Feeling a stinging pain in his chest, Patraxion burst into a hollow laugh.
“Haha. How absurd. Seriously. It feels like I'm fighting an entire country.”
“You speak as if you have done so before.”
“Well… Ah, whatever. What's the point of bragging in front of you? It's like teaching a fish to swim.”
Patraxion glanced behind him.
He and the generals were like migratory birds cutting through the wind. The plan was for Patraxion to push the front line by confronting the Progenitor, allowing the generals to follow behind and break through the sea of darkness.
But this last blow had pushed back not only Patraxion but the generals as well, rendering their progress meaningless.
“…Hoo. I can feel the difference in experience here. You don't die when I stab you, you don't flinch when I hit you. Isn't that cheating?”
“I have lived for over a thousand years. If I were to die from a single stab by you, what could be more futile than that?”
“Khahahaha!”
Laughing heartily, Patraxion clutched his stomach and bent over. The laughter echoing from within his armor gradually subsided.
Was the intermittent trembling from laughter, or from fear?
“Hk. That’s true, too. This is fun, so much fun… It feels like my blood is boiling.”
But Patraxion’s fighting spirit only burned brighter. Qi surged from his body once more.
The man who had once dueled a kingdom did not back down, even against the Progenitor who was a nation unto herself. Instead, he scraped the spearhead of his two-sectioned spear against a nearby container.
Screeeech. Sparks flew from the spearhead. The Qi imbued within it used the sparks as a flint, bursting into ferocious flames.
Igniting his own Qi, Patraxion swung the spear wildly. The flame-wreathed spearhead drew letters in the air.
“A hundred times? A thousand? I just have to dodge them all and land all my hits. A nation unto yourself? Ha, I've done it before. A duel with a nation.”
The Sunderspear took a deep breath and pointed his spearhead at Tyr.
“This is a duel, Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka. I challenge you. The victor decides justice... no, I don't even need that. Fight me, and let's see who is superior!”
“Your spirit alone could cover the earth. But your expression is an overstatement.”
In response, Tyr also clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her palms, staining them crimson with blood.
“Human, your blood does not boil. Blood boils only when I, its master, permit it.”
After retrieving her heart, she had been struggling with the blood energy that constantly tried to hide within her body. But Tyr was a 1200-year veteran, an expert second to none when it came to blood. Through repeated battles, she had rediscovered the knack.
The space beneath her fingernails—outside the body, yet still a part of it—was the one place she could sufficiently gather her blood energy.
Realizing this, Tyr fed a great amount of blood to her nails and extended them. The glowing crimson blood energy looked just like flames.
Just as the Sunderspear and Tyr were about to resume their battle.
*
“Hahaha! Is that all you’ve got?!”
Clad in armor, I drove Historia back with a dazzling display, then subdued her by binding her arms with a chain. Placing my foot on the back of the fallen Historia, I pulled a card from inside my mask.
4 of Clubs, Waves and Vibrations, Frequency Wave.
5 of Clubs, A Great Amount of Air, Hecto Pascal.
I opened a fraction of them both. Their purpose: to create sound. To create a wind that would amplify my voice.
Rolling the two cards into a makeshift megaphone and holding it to my mouth, I shouted loud enough to make the Meta Conveyor Belt tremble.
“I have captured the Daughter of the Military State! Hey, Military State! Your daughter is mine now!”