Veterans Are Better - 4

At my brother's call to come out, I moved to the vacant lot behind the building. It was a space I knew well from our usual kickball games, but standing here for the sake of instruction made tension wash over me.

"I didn't mean for everyone to come out."

My brother, standing in the middle of the lot, opened his mouth with a faintly awkward expression.

It wasn't just the two of us. Luise and Sera from the clubroom, Ainter, Ryutis, and Later were all there—along with Tanian, who had stayed to watch the practical exams to the end out of concern for injuries during sparring, and even the Demon Duke, who had finished scoring the Magic Department students and returned. Every single club member had somehow gathered. The coincidence was so perfect it almost felt as if they had been watching from the hallway and simply joined in.

"Haha, if not now, when else will we get to see our advisor's true skill?"

"What's so entertaining about watching that?"

My brother answered Ryutis indifferently, but this once I agreed with the prince.

I already knew my brother was strong. He had fought in the war a few years back, and last year he had overwhelmed Ryutis—someone even I couldn't confidently beat—by a crushing margin. Throwing an opponent to the ground bare-handed wasn't something you could do with an ordinary gap in skill.

But I had never seen him use a sword. I knew he was strong; I simply had no way to measure how strong. That curiosity was probably even stronger in Ryutis, the one who had been on the receiving end.

"Wouldn't it be better to have plenty of witnesses if something happens? Everyone will understand if it's an injury sustained during a proper spar."

Tanian's smiling remark sent a chill down my spine. Even if I coughed up blood or broke a limb sparring with my brother, the club members would simply testify that it had happened in a match.

I had no intention of complaining if I got hurt in a spar either, yet the way they already treated it as a settled fact left me feeling strange. And with the next ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Saint standing right there, I couldn't help worrying that my brother might fold my spine in half.

"This isn't a spar. An older brother can't lay his younger brother out flat."

The chill deepened. Did that mean he would have done it if I weren't his brother? That explained how he had knocked Ryutis unconscious without the slightest hesitation back then.

"Oh, then you'll spar with me? I'm game!"

"I said it's not a spar."

My brother's firm refusal settled both relief and disappointment over the club members at once. The relief belonged to those who feared he might assault royalty again; the disappointment, of course, belonged solely to the red-haired prince.

"Experience isn't only what you gain by clashing bodies. Watching with your eyes counts as experience too, doesn't it?"

"Exactly right. Observing a master's skill from a third-person perspective is often the foundation of growth."

At my brother's words, the Demon Duke rested a hand on Luise's shoulder and nodded.

With the Demon Duke backing him, the argument suddenly carried far more weight. When the very pinnacle of magic—someone who already had a disciple of her own—spoke that way, how could anyone refuse to believe her?

Yes. No matter how many times I thought it over, the Demon Duke was right. Learning through the body only worked when the skill gap was reasonable. If the difference was overwhelming, you would hit the ground without even realizing what had struck you. Simply watching the sword path with my eyes would be more beneficial.

"Let me borrow a sword for a moment."

"Ah—here."

I hurriedly unfastened the sword at my waist and held it out. It was only a mass-produced sparring blade I had prepared for today; nothing precious. After today I had planned to wipe the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠edge and stick it in a corner anyway. The sword itself would probably be happier in my brother's hand.

"Pretty sturdy."

He tapped the blade a few times, nodded, and wrapped his right hand around the hilt.

"Honestly, the gap between us isn't small, but if you keep working steadily you'll reach my level someday. Anything I can do, you should be able to do as well."

He stepped forward with his left foot and extended the sword-bearing right hand, as if a knight offering formal courtesy before a bout.

"So for now, aim for where I am. Look too far ahead and you'll lose your way; that should be about right."

With those words he slowly lowered the outstretched hand to the right. Arm extending diagonally from his body, blade pointing toward the ground—an upward cut stance.

Of course. The foundation of Crassius swordsmanship—no, of every swordsmanship—was the downward and upward cuts. Was he starting from the most basic of basics? Rather than disappointment, my heart pounded. My ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brother was a warrior who had gone immeasurably farther than I ever had; this was a chance to see how that warrior's foundations had been built.

Same thought, huh.

Ryutis, who had been several steps behind, had somehow drawn up beside me, as if determined to watch the sword path from closer range.

I glanced at his face. For once it held no laughter—only rare, pure seriousness. For all his eccentricities, the man really did possess a strong warrior's spirit.

"I refined myself after seeing this technique too. It gave me hope that if I kept trying, I might one day reach that realm."

The ominous weight of those words froze me solid. What? That wasn't something you said while demonstrating a simple basic motion. Those were words you spoke while unleashing a once-in-a-lifetime strike.

At the same time, an unnatural aura began to pour from my brother's body. Even if a swordsman was less sensitive to mana than a mage, he was still someone who handled it. When violent mana circulation happened right under your nose, you couldn't miss it.

And right now, that violent circulation was happening inside him.

Holy shit.

I could feel it. Mana exploding from his heart, surging into his right chest for a second detonation; the twice-forged mana swallowed his right arm and the sword, radiating a murderous presence—

Wait, what?

Why was the mana visible to the naked eye?

It was staggering. I wanted to check everyone else's reactions—especially the Demon Duke's—but I couldn't tear my gaze away. If I missed even a fraction of what was unfolding before me, I felt I would regret it for the rest of my life.

In silence my brother continued circulating mana, then slowly raised the sword. Extremely slowly—yet every minute movement tore the air with a shrieking roar and split the earth beneath him.

It felt like watching a great beast. A blade leisurely stalking its prey; space itself screaming and vanishing wherever the sword moved.

Then, while calmly lifting the sword, my brother suddenly cut through empty air—

……

I lost everything.

My eyes were open, yet only pure white space stretched before me. My ears were open, yet even the sound of wind was gone. My skin felt nothing, as if it no longer belonged to me; my nose detected not even the faintest scent of grass.

It was as if the world before my eyes had disappeared—or as if I myself had been banished from the world. A strange, hollow sensation.

But the strangeness lasted only an instant.

— ■■■■■■■─!!

A sound like something forcibly dragging a fragile being back from beyond the world slammed into me, and my senses returned all at once.

"How was that?"

My brother, who had spat out a handful of blood, pointed at the empty air with a faint smile.

Following his gesture, I carefully raised my head—and let out a hollow laugh.

"It's the technique the Heaven-Defier showed during the Great Subjugation War."

Ignoring my dazed expression, he continued the explanation.

"He wasn't called the Heaven-Defier simply because he challenged the Mandate of Heaven. If he'd been nothing more than some madman railing against destiny, people would have called him a lunatic. If he'd merely united the nomads, they would have called him a skilled operator."

The sword he had been holding clattered against the ground as if he had simply tossed it away. I could only stare blankly at the sky.

"He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was called the Heaven-Defier because he insulted the heavens and overturned the natural order—because a mere human interfered with the sky itself."

At those words, the existence I had only ever read about in textbooks suddenly felt both wondrous and terrifying.

"The battle in which the Heaven-Defier earned that name. The catastrophe he showed the imperial army—"

Before long, that wonder transferred entirely to my brother.

"The imperial army called that catastrophe World's End."

What kind of person was this brother of mine, who could copy such a catastrophe?

"Well, it's an unlucky name to say out loud, so people usually just called it the Sky Slash."

Another hollow laugh escaped me. Sky Slash. There could hardly be a more intuitive, more certain name.

I still couldn't look away from the empty air—from the several-meter-long, hideous black scar carved into the blue firmament.

"...It was cut."

"It's called Sky Slash, after all."

The sky had been torn open.

Holy shit.

It actually worked?

I was impressed with myself. I hadn't tried it once since the war, yet it succeeded this smoothly. I had even prepared a graceful pivot in case of failure: "Well, the Heaven-Defier used to make the upward cut look pretty cool too."

Honestly, after taking that sword wound from Kagan I hadn't even dared attempt it. The moment I tried to activate the technique, my body would scream. Amplifying the mana inside me would have simply made me explode.

But drinking the Demon Duke's potions had restored my health at an absurd rate, and now I could reproduce a miracle that had existed only in theory. As expected of the Demon Duke. Incredible.

Monster bastard.

I spat out the blood pooling in my mouth again and wiped my lips. My insides must have been wrecked; blood kept rising. The sword I had borrowed from Erich blazed with brilliant light before shattering into fragments. Fuck. Now that I noticed, there was no sensation in my right arm. Had a nerve been severed?

Anyway, reproducing it made me feel all over again what a monster among monsters Kagan had been. This was a weakened copy of the original—and even that wrecked my body after a single use. Kagan had thrown around the upgraded version like it was nothing.

Of course it might have been bluffing, but unlike me, who was visibly leaking blood, that bastard had looked completely fine. At least on the outside.

"Pretty amazing, right?"

I spoke to Erich, who was still staring at the empty air. Slowly lowering his head, his face was a tangled mess of every emotion imaginable.

"The first time I saw it, I thought, what kind of freak is this? No way a human being should be able to do that. I wondered if some evil god had descended."

I meant it. The scriptures of the Dawn Church said Enen had sealed the evil gods in the northern reaches of the continent, and the nomads just so happened to live in the northern reaches. I honestly thought they had dragged out some evil god and made him their chief.

But that bastard was still human, and if a human could do it, then I could do it too. That twisted will was what kept me going.

...Well, he wasn't just human—he was an apostle of a god—but the category was still "human."

"That feeling you're having right now? Turn it into competitive fire. Then you'll be able to become like me too."

Probably.

"O-Oppa...!"

While light was returning to Erich's dazed eyes, Luise—who had kept silent until now—rushed over in a panic.

To make a small confession of conscience: part of the reason I pushed harder was because Luise and the Demon Duke were watching. Wanting to look cool in front of family was a head-of-household's—

"Y-Your arm!"

"Huh?"

At Luise's tearful cry I checked my arm, only to find that the right arm that had lost all sensation was now lying on the ground.

Ah. So the nerve hadn't been cut—the whole arm had just been severed...

"M-My dear! Are you all right?!"

The Demon Duke, who had run over with Luise, stroked my cheek with trembling hands.

Of course I was fine. Losing one of your limbs had been practically daily life up north. With this continent's magic and divine power, reattaching an arm was quick work.

Besides, if I thought of it as something I had left behind in a new era, it wasn't even that sad. If today's spectacle stimulated Erich, an arm was a small price.

I had overdone it. Maybe it would have been better just to spar with Erich and let him cough up a little blood instead.

First shocked by the torn sky, then shocked again by my arm that had torn along with it, Luise and the Demon Duke showed no intention of keeping my stunt quiet and immediately shared it with Margeta and Irina as well. Thanks to that I spent the whole day soothing four people... Tanian healed the injury itself in no time, but unfortunately a startled heart couldn't be treated.

Up to that point it was fine. Even I would have been horrified if my lover's limb exploded right in front of me, treatment or not. That had been my own carelessness; something I ought to reflect on.

Damn it.

The real problem came afterward. The otherworldly noise and the scar carved into the sky threw the entire Academy into an uproar.

And when an incident has many witnesses, someone has to take responsibility.

Within a single day the Crown Prince's summons arrived. Was it only my imagination that "detailed explanation" sounded like "come make excuses for why you did something so stupid"?

Well, even if it wasn't my imagination, it was fine. Last time I was detained, my disciplinary stack got reset.

One disciplinary action is nothing.

A person is boldest when they have nothing left to lose.