There Was, But There Wasn't
“So you really think the Coalition bastards are just going to swallow that? The second we show up we’re supposed to say, ‘Bring out whoever’s in charge, get on your knees, apologize, make sure this never happens again, and if it does, be ready to die’?”
“That’s the idea.”
“And you’re actually telling me to deliver that message?”
“We all want something, Kyle. The Emperor. And us—John Nassen.”
The Emperor wanted the Coalition’s utter devastation, its total submission, and not a single loss on the Empire’s side.
John Nassen wanted to erase the thing that dared to deny blood-soaked training—the thing that ate away at the body itself.
Whatever the demand, the Coalition was never going to answer with a cheerful, “Oh, of course, we’ll make it so.”
They were the greatest power that had fought and resisted the Empire for generations. They still fielded multiple powerhouses said to rival the Imperial 10 Strongest. They had declined of late, but a coalition was still a coalition.
Kyle knew all too well how much pride could decide the fate of a group—far more than most people expected.
Unfortunately they had already committed an unforgivable act out of sheer impatience, and then, on top of that, they had completely botched it and achieved nothing. Their pride, however, was still intact. They would not simply bury their heads without a fight.
“…So everyone already knows talking won’t work.”
Of course. If words alone could have settled this, his brother and sister would never have come.
There were only two situations in which people of John Nassen moved of their own free will: when they could feel an even more incredible progressive overload, and when they were allowed to go completely wild.
And right now, the reason Lia and Lea had shown up leaned heavily toward the latter.
Honestly, Kyle himself had never expected conversation to get them anywhere. On top of that—though he tried hard to pretend otherwise—he half-hoped something big would break out.
No matter how hard he suppressed it, the John Nassen will inside him kept rising. He was starting to understand why his father called it a curse.
It’s not a bad thing. The Coalition deserves punishment anyway. And if a war just shows up, we exchange a few words, and it’s over—is that even a war? You’ve got to trade blows. So of course my body is itching for it.
The words kept whispering at the edge of his hearing, inside his skull. Whether it was a devil’s temptation or an angel’s cheer, he could no longer tell.
“I’ve already spoken with the Imperial Army and the Grand Duke.”
“You already talked to them? When?!”
“The Emperor knew from the moment he sent us here. Everything that happens from now on is our responsibility; the Grand Duke can clean up the results. What could be more glorious than forcing the Coalition into total submission?”
After hearing Lia and Lea in turn, Kyle thought for a moment, then nodded.
John Nassen cared nothing for the Empire’s victory or the Coalition’s surrender. Their only concern was the complete disposal of something that should never have existed in this world—and the absolute certainty and promise that it would never appear again.
“I won’t force you, little brother.”
“Yeah. Kyle, I won’t force you either. You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.”
Lia and Lea smiled and spoke in soft, gentle voices. Up to that point, they looked exactly like an older brother and sister worrying about their younger sibling—afraid he might be dragged into something unpleasant and end up suffering for it.
“Brother. Sister.”
But that older brother and sister were people of John Nassen. And Kyle himself was a person of John Nassen. One look was enough. One glance and you knew exactly what they were doing.
“You just want one more person fighting so you’re trying to push me out of the way. I can see it.”
“Ahem.”
“Heh. Busted?”
Unbelievable. They said it with everything written all over their faces. How was a younger brother supposed to feel, having his opponent stolen like that?
Grumbling inwardly, Kyle began to loosen up his body.
They had come all the way to the western border reeking of something suspicious. If the Coalition had any sense, they would notice the strange atmosphere and deploy their absolute best. And if they even brought out that damned mana-overload nonsense, so much the better.
And sure enough, the figure who finally appeared was exactly as expected—one of the Three Heroes, the Coalition’s supreme fighting force.
In particular, the man radiating an unusually clear and pure aura was a very appealing opponent.
Mathieu, was it? The moment Kyle laid eyes on him, he knew. He absolutely had to fight this man. If he let this opponent slip away, it would leave a regret as deep as missing a whole week of training!
Please, Brother, Sister. Leave this one for the youngest.
Out of courtesy he still asked who wanted to go first, but Kyle prayed again and again that neither Lia nor Lea would step forward.
Even at a glance this was a true powerhouse forged through relentless training. He had to fight him—if only to quiet the John Nassen will raging inside him.
“Mm.”
“Heeh.”
As if they had read Kyle’s mind, Lia and Lea looked a little disappointed yet still nodded in agreement.
Whew.
Kyle let out a quiet breath of relief and stepped forward quickly, before either of them could change their mind.
“Words don’t seem like they’re going to work, so let’s move on to the next step. We’ll settle it with a match, then discuss our futures with clear hearts.”
By this point everyone was expected to catch the hint: armies clashing was fine, but this time let’s do it the way the strong do it.
At Kyle’s words, Mathieu Philibert of the Coalition’s Three Heroes gave a slow “Ahh” and nodded.
In a full frontal war, nine times out of ten the Coalition would lose. Even if they managed to inflict heavy damage on the Empire, the Coalition itself would still be swept away. Better, then, to establish some justification through a duel like this one.
“…Hypothetically speaking.”
As they walked toward a wide open space convenient for fighting, Mathieu—walking opposite Kyle—slowly opened his mouth.
“If you and I duel, and you win, I will convey your proposal to the Coalition. Conversely, if I win, the Empire quietly withdraws. Is that the arrangement?”
In truth Mathieu’s suggestion was completely unacceptable from the Empire’s perspective. The Coalition had launched the surprise attack first; the Coalition had also destroyed the very pretext that had been restraining war. And now they were asking whether the army would pull back depending on the outcome of a duel. If he had merely asked for one more chance at negotiation it might have been different—even Mathieu himself found the proposal absurd.
“If that is what you wish, I will say we accept.”
But Kyle only smiled and nodded several times. Mathieu blinked in surprise at the answer. Of course the next words were the important part.
“Provided you can actually win, that is.”
“….”
A blatant provocation—yet Mathieu did not grow angry. Instead he seemed to decide there must be a reason for such confidence, and he raised his fighting spirit.
The title of Coalition Three Heroes isn’t wasted on him.
Kyle had worried that his youthful appearance might make the other man careless. But even after a sudden challenge to a duel, Mathieu showed not the slightest hint of underestimation. On the contrary, he was taut with tension, as if he had already roughly gauged Kyle’s level.
The real ones really are different, Kyle muttered inwardly, and for the first time he relaxed and drove in first.
KRAAAANG!!
“Guhk?!”
Just as Mathieu was about to ask where the sword was, his body was already soaring into the air. It was no ambush—just a perfectly ordinary, perfectly straightforward punch thrown from the front. Yet the result was anything but ordinary no matter how many times one looked at it.
CRACK-SNAP!
Mathieu barely regained his balance and staggered to his feet. His body had already been driven far back across the border, deep into Coalition territory.
“….”
“….”
The Coalition soldiers who had been wondering what was happening all lost the ability to speak. Exactly what kind of attack could have driven Mathieu—foremost among the Three Heroes—that far? Thoughts flooded in: Forget winning today’s fight; would they even survive it?
“Kh.”
Mathieu was no fool; he could read those thoughts. He had been completely overwhelmed from the very first exchange. He composed himself as if nothing were wrong and immediately launched himself at Kyle. Any thought of pointing out that the boy had not drawn a sword had already vanished. At that age it should have been impossible, yet instinct told him the truth: this was a powerhouse on his own level, someone who would not look out of place among the Imperial 10 Strongest. Worrying about whether such a person was armed or not was pure madness.
CLAAANG!!
Just as Mathieu expected, when sword met bare fist there was no blood, no torn flesh—only the dull, heavy sound of metal striking metal.
He already knows how to wrap mana around his body. At that young age… already!
Testing the waters or gauging skill was nothing but arrogance. From the start he had to pour everything he possessed into the assault. Even then he would not win; he would only barely avoid defeat.
SHAAAA!!
He concentrated every scrap of mana and expelled it outward. A translucent aura settled along the blade and began to form the shape of sword aura.
“Haaat!”
The supreme technique that split heavy shields and thick armor with equal indifference—sword aura. Even veteran knights struggled to raise anything more than a heat-haze shimmer. To be called skilled one had to at least reach the entry stage of sword aura. The handful of true powerhouses on the continent wielded it freely. In that sense, sword aura was the decisive measure of strength. Which meant that nothing in the world could stand before that razor-blue edge!!
CLANG!
“…?”
For a moment Mathieu thought he had misheard. His sword was clearly wrapped in sword aura—so why did he hear the sound of a blade being struck aside? And against an opponent who was not even holding a sword?
“Tsk.”
At the sound of a tongue clicking, Mathieu slowly turned his gaze. There stood Kyle, looking down at his own fist where a thin line of red blood was flowing.
“That stings.”
He had taken sword aura head-on and was talking as if he had merely nicked himself on paper. Something faint and cold quietly raised its head inside Mathieu’s chest.
It was fear.