Chapter 211
Chapter 211
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 211
Chapter Title: Reunion (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Shwick!
The stone floor is etched with erratic sword scars. The number of spells Raniel pours out to alter the sword's trajectory multiplies exponentially.
Clusters of platinum light tangle with blue mana.
But the platinum starlight always surges ahead. The blue mana scattered everywhere begins to dwindle bit by bit. Like that, Kyle gradually closes in on Raniel.
'...I knew it.'
Gazing at the approaching holy sword, Raniel narrows her eyes. She already knew she was being pushed back.
Kyle is strong.
Raniel knows Kyle's strength better than anyone. Because she understood his power and potential, she couldn't let go for the past five years.
He wields the strongest starlight.
He grows with every battle.
The swordmaster Kuntel—a sole survivor of the sword sanctuary Galatrik, a proud superhuman—had declared his 'potential.'
The Hero, Kyle.
'That's not the end of it.'
Raniel watches Kyle's sword.
The trajectory it traces is clean. Its cleanliness makes it beautiful. It's not merely swung by brute force.
The sword sanctuary, Galatrik.
Kyle learned the sword from Kuntel, its sole survivor and proud superhuman. Of course, Kyle's swordsmanship hasn't reached the pinnacle through accumulated time like the superhumans'...
'He had experiences that substituted for it.'
Clashes with countless powerhouses.
Battles against calamities.
Kyle had those.
Through those experiences, Kyle's swordsmanship reached the verge of perfection. He had stepped into a realm close to superhuman. Raniel clearly remembers the day Kyle displayed techniques rivaling a superhuman.
"Pick up your sword, Ganikalt."
"I am the Hero, Kyle."
"Disciple of the proud swordmaster, Kuntel."
The reunion with Ganikalt.
The one minute Kyle endured there.
The path his blade tip traced then resembled Kuntel's sword. That day, in that place, Raniel saw potential in Kyle. She held hope because she glimpsed the realm he could reach if he kept advancing.
And all of it was betrayed.
Expectations trampled, trust sent forth with hope defiled by betrayal.
"You don't fit in our party."
That whisper echoed in Raniel's ears.
Raniel grits her teeth with a crunch.
'You dog bastard.'
Because she saw the realm Kyle could attain.
Because the trajectory his sword draws right now is beautiful. Because he's cornering her.
That's why her anger burns even hotter.
Raniel senses fury from Kyle as he advances through the waves of spells. Bloodshot veins fill her eyes.
'You've reached such a height.'
Perfection within reach.
'You could have. You could have gone further.'
You could have kept advancing.
You could have fulfilled your duty.
'If you just hadn't given up.'
I could have helped you with it.
Yet he ultimately gave up.
He turned his back on responsibility. He abandoned those who sacrificed for him and chose to run.
Crunch.
Her teeth grind. Her bloodshot eyes tremble.
She wants to smash her fist into that loathsome face right now, but dragging the fight on like this makes it impossible.
She's being pushed back.
Continuously pushed.
Raniel keeps retreating endlessly, while Kyle relentlessly presses her.
No matter how adept a Battle Mage is at close combat... unless the skill gap is overwhelming, victory against a swordsman is hard to predict.
"Mages are disadvantaged against swordsmen."
Even compensating for that weakness, a Battle Mage isn't entirely free from those limits.
Let alone against the Hero wielding a holy sword that cleaves even formless spells... a mage becomes utterly powerless.
'Fucking bastard.'
But Raniel had no intention of yielding easily. Surging rage gnaws at her reason. In the end, she makes a choice no sane person would.
Swoosh.
Ash rises over Raniel's body.
The technique she once devised to stand by Kyle's side—she now uses it against him.
Thump.
Her heart pounds hard, and Raniel's movements accelerate. The gap between her and Kyle begins to close slowly.
"...!"
Kyle's eyes widen for a moment.
His blade tip wavers briefly, panic flashing across his face. It wasn't just because Raniel's speed increased.
Scattering ash.
Strengthening the body by burning mana.
It's a technique only Raniel uses. Painfully familiar to Kyle. His pupils shake. Even seeing his reaction, Raniel keeps burning mana.
'If you use it, you'll know.'
It's a technique only she can use.
'You'll realize I'm Raniel.'
Even guessing that, Raniel doesn't stop moving. To land a hit on him, she had to steel herself this much.
She knows it's a foolish choice.
An emotional one.
But it was unavoidable. To Raniel, Kyle's existence was like her reverse scale.
Thwack!
Raniel launches her first counterattack.
Kyle's pupils are still shaking.
3.
The floor cracks.
The shockwave slams the stone. Debris flies everywhere, and slashing blows cleave even the flying shards multiple times.
Kraka-kaka-kak!
The surroundings are already devastated.
Even in split seconds, attacks fly back and forth. The metallic clang of sword meeting shockwave rings deafeningly.
The two elves watching their fight from a distance express astonishment for their own reasons.
'...She wasn't even at full power against me?'
Remia marvels that she didn't go all out against her.
'A mage engaging the Hero in close combat...'
Kardi expresses dubious wonder if that's truly a mage. Amid it all, their battle rages on.
Shing.
Kyle's swung sword cleaves a pillar. Even the thick stone pillar means nothing before the holy sword. He slices it wholesale, aiming for Raniel.
At that instant, the ash explodes.
The exploding ash repels Kyle's holy sword. Before clearing the spell's aftermath, the blast's shock pushes it back.
Thud.
Gripping the hilt of the repelled holy sword tightly, Kyle slashes through the blast's aftermath. Brushing away the shockwave and dust reveals a robed woman standing there.
'Just who.'
Kyle narrows his eyes.
'Just who the hell are you.'
His pupils still hold bewilderment.
The more he swings his sword, the more he closes distance, the stronger the sense of incongruity. It felt like facing a terribly familiar opponent.
Sporadic glimpses of blue eyes.
Ash-gray hair leaking from the robe.
Not just those distinctive features—even the techniques resemble. Kyle's gaze turns to the ash drifting in the air. Traces of a technique only that one could use.
The Ashen Mage, Raniel.
The comrade he drove away with his own hands.
The one who made Kyle feel inferior his whole life.
'Just...'
Recalling that guy's face, Kyle looks at the opponent before him. Unlike that guy, the one he's facing is a woman. The curves over the robe are unmistakably feminine.
In this unfamiliar woman, Kyle sees his old comrade.
Instinct screams she's his old comrade. But the stars deny his instinct. The stars merely whisper steadily in Kyle's ear.
The one you let slip away.
This woman before you is merely someone you let go. Not the comrade you knew. That continues to confuse Kyle.
'My head's a mess.'
Kyle steps forward, narrowing the gap. Leaving just a handspan between them, he stares into the woman's blue eyes.
'You.'
Kyle's black pupils.
'You, just who the hell are you.'
And the woman's blue pupils reflect each other's colors.
Tap.
She steps back. Kyle closes in another step. Desire to see inside that robe moves his body.
Boom.
The ground shakes under Kyle's step. Cracks spiderweb across the stone with creaks. Raniel, planted on the ground, loses balance for an instant.
And Kyle takes another step.
The distance closes completely. At breath-touching range, Kyle swings his sword. Raniel can't read the close-range swing's path, blocked by Kyle's body.
'I'll be cut.'
Not knowing the trajectory, she can't gauge distance. In that split second, Raniel chooses. She clenches her fist tight.
Ashes to Ashes.
The surrounding ash explodes. Caught in the blast, Raniel's body is hurled back. Even in the explosion, Kyle swings through. And Raniel does the same.
Snap.
Raniel snaps her fingers.
A spell completes instantly, emitting light.
Spell-Smite.
Double-Spell.
A beam slams Kyle's jaw. His head snaps back. But Kyle grits his teeth, refusing to release the sword. Even with his head thrown back, the blade tip never wavers.
Ting.
The blade tip finally reaches Raniel. But it doesn't touch her body. It was a distance she could dodge if aimed at her, but Kyle never targeted her body from the start.
The robe's hem.
The upper part covering her face.
The sword slices through them. The robe parts softly, severed fabric fluttering in the air. Kyle lowers his tilted head to look at the woman's face.
Swoosh.
Amid drifting ash, hair the color of ash waves in the wind. Kyle's eyes widen. He finally faces the revealed countenance as the robe falls away.
Ash-gray hair and blue eyes.
But there stands a girl with a face utterly unlike the one in his mind. Snow-white skin, slender eyelashes... and pale pink lips enter Kyle's view.
A face nothing like that guy's.
Though her eyes strain fiercely, their soft shape gives no sharp impression. Unlike that guy, whose mere narrowed eyes felt like they'd kill.
And that face.
"...We meet again."
It's the face he encountered at Aphria before.
Kyle clearly remembers her name.
"Lania van Trias."
The girl with that name.
"...Why are you here?"
Lowering his blade tip, Kyle poses the question.
To that, the girl slowly raises her arm. She touches her face. Realizing her robe hood is gone, she furrows her brow.
"...Tch."
The girl clicks her tongue briefly.
But only for a moment. She regains her stance, clenching her fist. Robe hood torn, Kyle's holy sword lowered... yet she looks ready to continue fighting.
"I asked why you're here."
"None of your business? Shut up and raise your sword."
Snapping back like that, the girl steps forward boldly.
The moment she swings her clenched fist. A fluttering cloth scrap from the air drops before her eyes. Her pupils shift to it.
The flapping cloth.
By sheer coincidence, it's the same white as her robe... same material. Her eyes narrow.
"......"
She halts her steps.
Wordlessly, she reaches out, snatching the drifting scrap. Then she fiddles with her nape.
The bunched-up remnants of the robe hood at her nape.
But somehow, her nape feels oddly bare. Pulling the hood part yields only half a cloth. Where did the other half go?
"...Ah."
The answer lies in the girl's hand.
The cloth scrap clutched there. She belatedly realizes it's part of her severed robe. Her pupils shake violently, like an earthquake.
Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly.
Lips twitching, she finally bows her head deeply. Like a puppet with cut strings.
"Asking again. Lania van Trias. Why is Aphria's professor like you here...?"
Kyle obtusely repeats the question.
She doesn't answer. Kyle senses something off from the girl with head bowed, shoulders trembling.
'Didn't she hear?'
Kyle steps toward her, asking once more.
"Didn't you hear? Answer the question..."
"Hey."
A chilling voice cuts Kyle off.
"You fucking..."
The girl lifts her bowed head.
"You, you, you goddamn..."
Her voice trembles with rage.
Bloodshot eyes glare at Kyle. He flinches, shoulders twitching at the venomous stare.
'...Why?'
She seems even angrier than before.
Facing her like she's about to charge, Kyle instinctively steps back.
Author's Note
Daily updates...!