Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: The Last Leaf, The First Sapling -5
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The abandoned factory was on the outskirts of the holy city. According to the informant, Karen was still clinging to life, and the monster was lingering there as if trying to lure someone out.
What was its intention? A trap targeting Cisel?
If so, it meant Karen had been kidnapped because she associated with Cisel. Just thinking about it made her chest throb. Repaying kindness with enmity.
She couldn't let the story end like this. At least Karen had to survive. No matter what the culprit demanded...
Cisel was fully armed as she stormed into the building.
There sat a short figure cloaked in a hood, and Karen—frozen stiff as if bound by invisible magic. She stared at Cisel in disbelief.
That gaze filled Cisel with deep relief from the bottom of her heart. No obvious serious injuries, just pale complexion, but nothing life-threatening. She was alive.
She was really alive.
"Karen, are you alright?!"
"I'm fine... fine, so! Kyah?!"
The joy of reunion was overshadowed as Karen was yanked into the factory's darkness, pulled by an invisible grip. Cisel immediately hoisted her zweihander.
"...What did you do to Karen!"
"Heh, that's what I want to ask. I was the one being threatened—or rather, doing the threatening to get your info. I put in so much effort to lure you here."
"......"
The voice didn't match the lip movements. Nor the expression.
The monster spat out its words with a deeply displeased scowl.
"You can't become the tournament hero. Neither can the other riffraff. We need the holy sword."
"So... you killed innocent participants and kidnapped Karen."
"Didn't expect you'd forfeit the finals for a friend... but perfect. Now you'll be the last victim of the serial killings, and our grand plan marches toward completion."
Boasting one's scheme meant no intention of letting the listener live. Proof: the monster before her had drawn a mace.
She had to win this fight. If she lost, it would kill Karen and slip away unscathed. Like hell she'd allow that.
Her own 'glory' dangled right before her eyes.
Time to stake her life.
Now, what was the aim of this farce?
Did the witch desire conflict between the Redburn family and the imperial house? Or was even that merely a stepping stone to some deeper plot? Or perhaps a scheme so profound that a sane human couldn't even conceive it?
No way to guess. If there was one hypothesis she could form, it was that lacking direct combat prowess, she'd lured Cisel here. There were records of severe injuries from a close fight with Roderus.
But if she was intimate with the Second Prince, couldn't she just summon her without this theatrics? No need for the knight to wear such desperation.
There had to be a hidden underbelly here. Yet she couldn't peer into it. No matter how she turned it over, contradictions arose somewhere.
"Tch."
She admitted it. Couldn't understand.
Couldn't understand, so now it was time for raw power to clash.
As Witch Karen had said, Faceless was a 'Puppeteer'—but only to suit her father's grand strategy of concealment.
She had never once shied away from an open brawl.
Swoosh.
Faceless's meat puppet drew the mace from its belt. A crude iron club-like thing, deliberately rough-made with no clues to its creator.
As the puppet assumed combat stance, Cisel dropped into her lower guard and closed in.
The height gap and weapon disparity were stark.
Faceless sized it up by eye. This 'puppet' was built small for stealth, around 150 cm tall. Two heads shorter than Cisel.
And that was just the start? Mace versus greatsword meant vastly different reaches. A massive zweihander was even more menacing from the defending side.
Plus, weight equaled power. That small frame and mace would struggle to withstand a weighted greatsword blow...
Thinks that, does she?
Faceless made the puppet smirk.
"Father loves power. I always wondered, with so much already... why crave even more. Do you know the reason, Cisel Yurensuto?"
"I don't know what you did to Karen, but I'll collect the price with that neck of yours."
"I think I get it now. It's to confront the unavoidable unknown."
Life brimmed with unknowns. In a world where one person could topple a castle, there was only one way to shield yourself from external threats you couldn't predict.
Crunch. Crackle.
Unpleasant noises emanated from the puppet's entire body.
Not a single sound—this was a complex symphony resonating through its frame, so varied it defied pinpointing the source. But one thing was clear: it reeked of thick death.
And power welled up.
Limit Breakthrough
Overclock flesh beyond safety limits for explosive short-term gains
If you could freely manipulate the flesh, releasing survival safeties was child's play. That alone skyrocketed short-term efficiency.
Strain muscles to tearing, expand joints to snapping, move heedless even as fever cooked the brain cells.
Reject the design for living—embrace one solely for killing. Overlay mana, and a mere puppet could momentarily rival a knight's physical prowess.
Even if it meant no sunrise tomorrow.
This body wasn't hers anyway. She could burn it without a second thought.
And besides... the raw material for this puppet was a special order. Not some peasant farmer's body. No skimping when heading to meet a mage who'd fired off Inheritance Transcendence.
Of course.
The opponent was one of Yurensuto's two monsters: 'Crushing Knight' Cisel. She knew well the might of that gravity sword. But no problem. Thrilling, even.
Probe repeatedly, analyze meticulously, extract her data... and in the end, Redburn would claim victory. After all.
She had spares galore.
Creak-!
The factory's wooden floor shattered in an instant, leaving a small crater. Like a snapped rubber band, Faceless launched into a leap.
Catapult velocity.
Whiiiiiish-!
She closed on Cisel in a blink, legs kicking off to hover 30 cm above ground. Height gap nullified.
Faceless swung the mace down from above. Air tore with a scream as the flanged head targeted Cisel's skull.
The greatsword was slow. How would she block?
Whoosh-! Claaang-!!
The zweihander traced a refined arc from below. Greatsword met mace midair. The clash's shockwave rattled the factory walls, dust cascading down.
Gears meshing—like the pinnacle of honed technique and tempered physique.
Yet power yielded.
Graaaawrl! Sparks flew as Cisel's waist bent backward, heels scraping trails in the dirt.
The comparatively small mace was crushing the greatsword by sheer force.
"......?!"
"That look like 'a greatsword getting overpowered?! Right?!'"
Mass was absolute. Light yielded to heavy.
"That's why I packed it in—this body's worth two people...!!"
A 150 cm frame fusing two well-trained wandering knights. Muscle compressed to the absolute limit, far heavier than appearances suggested.
Cisel judged swiftly. If overwhelmed, deflect.
Clang-!
She pivoted her body around the clashing point. Sparks scattered as the mace gouged along the blade's flat, sliding off.
She released her left hand from the hilt for a split second, clenched a fist, and snapped a short jab at Faceless's side—targeting the ribs. Crack. Thud.
Felt like pulverizing five bones. Never mind how five ribs could cluster there.
"Kihihit, wanna trade blows?"
"Not even pretending it hurts...?!"
No expected reaction.
"It's someone else's body anyway! Figured you'd flinch honestly... Gah!"
Whip—Smaaack!!
"Guh...!"
A whip-like kick lashed the zweihander's flat. Blocked, yet the impact resonated beyond steel, shaking Cisel's entire frame.
No quarter given—violence chained on. As if vowing to pulverize any shield upright, Faceless hammered the blade relentlessly.
Bam-! Booom-!!
The pounding barrage buried Cisel's ankles outright.
Even a master-forged zweihander would suffer under repeated shocks like this. The blade began to warp and dent bit by bit.
That was Faceless's aim.
Cisel Yurensuto wasn't the terrifying technique type. Pure transcendence. Counter that monstrous spec, and victory was hers.
Yes. Laughably optimistic. No different from nonsense like 'beat the imperial sword saint by disarming him' or 'take down a magic tower master without magic.'
But.
"Transcendence... holding back?"
"......"
The final leaf quivered. With one strike left, Cisel's hands trembled with hesitation. Faceless smirked at the sight.
Clang, claaang-!!
Iron storm raged. Mace swings that could shatter a tower shield left the zweihander scrambling to parry. She exploited fleeting gaps for counters—
Heavenly Severance
Mana-extended blade cleaves roof in twain
"Heavenly Severance──!!"
"Arm? Take it."
Shwick—
Mana-clad blade extended nearly threefold. Blinding light erupted, bisecting the factory roof. The slash caught the puppet's arm, sending it skyward.
But.
"Spare."
Blink, and a fresh arm had regrown. The mace exploited the counter's opening. Cisel hastily retracted her zweihander to guard her centerline.
She'd called it 'two servings,' so pseudo-regeneration until reserves ran dry.
Claaaang-!!
Blown back hard. Cisel's back slammed the factory wall.
But Cisel had her own calculations.
The foe wielded blatantly unnatural body control. Drag it out, and it'd break down. Even now, sweat couldn't vent the internal heat—it was cooking from within.
Buy time, and the monster would collapse on its own. Maybe rescue Karen without a goodbye.
Faceless moved fluidly despite her sweat-drenched puppet, murmuring.
"Rumor of your illness was true... Thought it a lie. That quirky parry style, freakish hybrid swordsmanship from mixed schools, right-foot pivot habit... Got enough data yet?"
"Cr... ugh...!"
"Bet you're thinking long fight? Transparent. But between us, who's stronger in a marathon—"
Crimson mana gathered at the mace's head. Flesh-hued, the meat-forged club seemed to writhe grotesquely.
As Cisel focused mana to counter.
Shake.
An unseen lantern swayed.
Sudden weakness buckled one leg, foot slipped; coincidentally, falling dust scraped her cornea. Bad luck. Vicious misfortune.
Redburn Duke Maximuss's transcendence ability, Precognitive Lantern, had activated.
Send infinite replenishable meat-puppet legions to force marathons even on elite foes, relay intel to the duke for real-time fate manipulation.
An endless spiral of negative feedback. A strategy without flaws.
This was the Redburn house's 'ace in the hole.'
To the disrupted Cisel flew Faceless's belatedly unavoidable strike──.
Time crawled to a crawl.
A strike brimming with death inched closer.
To block it, slay the monster, save Karen... she'd have to use transcendence.
It had come to this, after all.
What if she'd saved it just once more? No regrets using it when she must. But squandering it on that paltry 'glory'...
Rejecting comrades' aid, hurling herself solo into the gate for it.
She could've held back, yet gambled her life on trivial glory. Bitterly regretful now. That single choice had drastically altered this moment's fate.
But regrets came too late.
Too late.
If transcendence was the only way. If this was her final instant.
Then gather all this futility and pathos into one strike—to pulverize that thing, and save at least Karen──
Cisel, that's not the path.
I muttered aloud to myself.
Cisel Yurensuto faced a multitude of forks ahead. The one she'd chosen was way out on the periphery. Extreme.
Her resolve was admirable—far from wrong...
But she'd be a bit happier this way. And pushing transcendence that extreme would turn her into a literal time-bomb self-destruct. Can't even make wedding guest.
Maybe lend a hand, then.
Right. Clear the throat.
"Forged Inheritance Transcendence—〈Cogwheel: Narrator〉."
⟨ Narrate ⟩