The Hand That Lurks on the Island (3)
The moment the two-pronged sword was about to fall, Chester coiled every muscle in his body with elastic power and, like a feline beast, spun while still lying on the ground before launching himself upward.
The two-pronged sword slammed into the spot where Chester’s head had been. Mid-air he twisted into a landing stance, hit the ground, and charged straight at Urgo.
Can a human even move like that?
Urgo marveled at the absurd athletic ability and springiness Chester had just displayed, yanking the two-pronged sword free and swinging it in one fluid motion.
Chester, for his part, was equally stunned by the sight of Urgo casually retrieving and swinging a sword that had driven into the earth with a sound heavier than a sledgehammer.
Inhuman strength that left one speechless. It was the clearest hallmark of a hero that ordinary people could recognize.
“Kh!”
Even as Chester drew a knife and lunged, the two-pronged sword—already recovered and swung with perfect form—was faster.
Whoooom!
A savage sound tore the air apart. Chester, who had thrown his entire body forward in a charge, flung himself backward just in time to evade the blade.
“Catching him is going to take a little while.”
Seeing that reaction, Urgo conceded the point.
He might not quite reach the level of a true hero, but the man before him was unmistakably special.
Similar to Rotin, maybe? Physically this one is superior, though.
It felt like fighting a cat shaped like a man.
Elasticity flooded every inch of his body. No matter how he moved, he could change direction into whatever form he wanted at any moment.
Next came the ominous shape of those forearm muscles.
The ridges of muscle rising under the skin of the hand gripping the knife, the veins writhing—anyone could tell they were extraordinary. It almost looked as if the knife itself were screaming in pain from being held.
Judging by how long he harassed us during the day, his stamina must be considerable too.
In pure endurance, Chester probably outstripped even Urgo.
But Urgo had no intention of fighting long enough for that advantage to matter.
He swung the massive sword with ferocious speed—a weapon so heavy that an ordinary man would shatter his shoulder, elbow, and wrist merely by lifting and swinging it.
The two-pronged blade ripped the air to shreds; before the violent wind it created could even settle, the blade tore through the same space again.
Wind piled upon wind. Chester somehow kept dodging the edge, yet the gale that howled around them shook the forest into a frenzy.
“What the—!”
Watching it, Chester was appalled.
Wielding that heavy sword as lightly as Chester himself swung a knife—seeing it up close made it impossible to believe.
He’s a monster. Seriously!
Chester forced down the shock and calmly fixed his eyes on the blade.
He was neither a warrior nor a knight. He had never learned the instinctive art they drilled into themselves—reading an opponent’s next move from the body alone.
So he tracked the tip of the sword with his exceptional dynamic vision and used his astonishing elasticity and reflexes to keep slipping past it.
The instant he evaded the blade, Urgo’s kick came flying. Chester simply stepped onto a rock behind him and vaulted onto it, dodging that as well.
Then Urgo locked the sword he had only been swinging into place and thrust his body forward in a sudden lunge.
With arm and blade fixed, he leaned his torso alone, naturally forming a thrusting stance, then drove the sword at the feet of Chester, who was still unbalanced atop the rock.
Chester leapt backward at once, but Urgo also exploded forward, extending the thrust’s reach.
In a panic Chester tried to parry the incoming blade with his knife. The knife could not withstand it and snapped clean through.
He broke the knife like it was a twig!
Still reeling, Chester rolled across the ground and yanked out his machete—only for the two-pronged sword to smash it to pieces from the side.
Kra-shaaang!
“Urgh!”
Fragments of the shattered machete sprayed toward his face. Chester blocked them and frantically rolled again to avoid the next strike.
He tumbled wildly, then scrambled to his feet—just as Urgo’s fist slammed into his chest.
“Got you.”
KRAAANG!
It did not sound like a man striking another man.
If Monia, watching the fight, had to find a comparable sound in her memory, it resembled the noise the People of the Summit made when they sparred.
Of course, the Summit folk only played around with light scuffles; Urgo had put every ounce of his strength into the blow that produced this sound.
“Guaaaagh!!”
The instant the punch landed, Chester felt every organ inside him wrung out by the impact.
His body flew backward and smashed into a tree.
“Kh! Guh! Grrraaah…!”
It had been a human fist, yet it felt exactly like being hit by a bear.
“……!”
While Chester lay frozen by shock and pain from that single blow, Urgo closed the distance in a flash and swung his sword.
“I won’t miss this time.”
The blade descended.
At that moment an arrow came whistling from behind.
Hearing it, Urgo kept the downward momentum of the sword while twisting his entire body; the torque redirected the falling blade into a rising diagonal slash.
It happened right after one tip of the two-pronged sword had already pierced the edge of Chester’s chest.
“…….”
Having cut the arrow, Urgo looked at Monia, who was staring at him through tears.
“Get away from Chester.”
Weeping, knowing full well she was no match for Urgo, she nocked another arrow and drew it on him again.
Her face was streaming with tears, yet her body did not tremble.
“Brave. A fine woman.”
When words of the kingdom language she could understand came from Urgo’s mouth, Monia was briefly startled, then hardened her expression once more and kept the arrow trained on him.
“I thought it a bit foolish that Rotin was so smitten by a girl he saw as a child that he made reckless choices… but for you, I will accept it.”
With that, Urgo looked down at Chester, who was bleeding where the sword tip had lightly pierced the edge of his chest.
Whether from the direct impact to the sternum or not, Chester was gasping and could barely move.
Then Urgo pressed the split tips of the two-pronged sword gently against Chester’s throat.
“I will spare this man.”
“……!”
“In return, you will come with me quietly.”
If he harmed Chester any further, there was no telling what the woman might do.
For Urgo, who wanted to deliver Monia to Rotin unharmed, that was not desirable.
“…….”
Monia stared fixedly at Chester.
He was trying with everything he had to move, yet he could not stir an inch.
Chester had fought a bear into a similar state before, but the shock of taking Urgo’s full-power punch square in the chest was enough to immobilize even him.
“……You’ll really spare him?”
“Yes.”
Urgo met Chester’s glare.
For a moment the image of his own past rose—himself captured by invaders, forced to watch his family violated before his eyes.
A dark, foul feeling welled up in his chest, but he forced it down.
“I’ll go.”
Seeing Urgo’s brow furrow, Monia decided he was growing irritated by her delay and answered in a rush.
“I-I’ll follow you, so please spare Chester!”
“…….”
The instant Urgo withdrew the two-pronged sword from Chester’s throat, he turned his back on Monia as well and strode toward the ship.
“Huh?”
When Monia made a bewildered sound at the action, Urgo glanced back at Chester.
“You’re a good man too. A woman’s actions make it plain. Both of you love each other deeply and truly.”
Chester glared at him while desperately trying to force his body to move.
Urgo looked from that glare to Chester’s chest, already hideously swollen with bruising.
In this environment, a wound like that won’t let him live long.
Every rib must have been broken.
Urgo silently offered a brief prayer for Chester’s soul, then turned to Monia.
“I’m sorry.”
His homeland trampled by invaders rose in his mind.
His family violated before his eyes rose in his mind.
The thought that he himself had just committed something so vile made him want to vomit.
……Damn it.
And so he said to them both:
“I’m sorry.”
There was nothing else he could offer but this apology.
I should tell Rotin he ought to give up for the sake of the woman he loves.
With those words Urgo vanished. Monia, who had been standing frozen, unable to understand his behavior, suddenly snapped out of it and rushed to Chester.
“Chester! Chester! Are you all right?! Chester!”
“…….”
Chester tried to speak, but the crushing pressure in his chest would not allow it; he clenched his teeth.
“Kh…”
He had let his guard down. It had been a dangerous job against dozens of men, yet things had gone so much better than expected that he had grown careless. That was something he should never have done.
Did meeting people after so long get me excited?
Chester assessed himself coldly.
No. That’s not it.
In truth, he had probably thought that even if he were spotted a little, it wouldn’t be a problem. That was why he had acted so boldly.
Even if discovered, escaping from sailors who had just woken in the middle of the night would be no trouble at all.
That was what he had believed.
I completely misjudged.
He had known Urgo was strong.
A man who could block every arrow and stone thrown from a distance—if someone capable of such feats were weak, that would be the real joke.
But at the same time, Urgo’s strength had far surpassed the level Chester had estimated.
So this is what a hero is.
He had known such people existed. Knowing and experiencing them firsthand, however, were very different things.
I never thought he’d be this strong. ……Damn it.
Chester somehow managed to move a hand and place it on his chest. The added weight sent a horrific surge of pain racing upward.
Kh…!
His consciousness was slowly fading. Through heavy eyelids he looked at Monia.
“Chester! Say something!”
He saw her crying.
Chester kept his eyes fixed on that face.
Until his consciousness cut out, he kept looking.
After Chester finally blacked out, how long did he lie there?
Ant, who had vanished somewhere after Chester fell to Urgo, came racing back to his side and howled toward the direction from which it had come.
— Awooooo! Oooooooh!!
Ant continued its mournful howl in the voice a wolf uses to call its kin. Monia looked at the creature.
“Ant?”
As if answering the cry, the underbrush shook for a moment, and a massive furry form emerged.
Their appearance was so different from humans that individuals were hard to tell apart, yet Monia’s sharp eye immediately recognized which Person of the Summit stood before her.
“Wind…!”
— Chester…?
Clutching a piece of the Grace of the Summit in one hand, Black Wind stared at Monia, who sat weeping on the ground, and at Chester, collapsed with his chest hideously ruined—then his eyes flew wide.
— What happened?! Hey! Chester!