Chapter 269
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 269
Chapter Title: Part 2 Chapter 26: Balisada (2)
The light flowing from the blade gradually faded, leaving a faint aura swirling around the sword.
It was a sleek silver blade.
Perfectly proportioned in length, its razor-sharp edge seemed like it could slice through anything with the slightest touch.
Jamie ran his fingers lightly over the flat of the blade.
Made from a Red Dragon's Dragon Heart, yet the edge felt as cold as midwinter.
He flicked it lightly with his finger.
Ding—
A clear, resonant tone rang out.
He transferred the sword from his right hand to his left, gripped it firmly with both hands and raised it high.
He shifted the angle this way and that, testing its weight and balance.
The grip felt especially good.
It was superb, as if it had been his sword for ages.
Jamie focused on the sword and channeled his mana into it.
Whoosh!!
As the mana seeped in, flames erupted from the blade on their own.
"It was impossible to contain the flames since it was made from a Red Dragon's heart. Looks like my skill wasn't up to par."
"It's because it's a Dragon Slayer. Even Gram can't fully suppress its lightning. It's not a mistake on your part."
Ironril spoke in a regretful tone, but Isis comforted him as if to ease his disappointment.
But Jamie wasn't listening to them at all.
He was in a state of utmost concentration.
Ignoring the flames, Jamie slowly began to draw forth his aura.
The mana, following the Sword Master's will, started transforming into the form of aura.
Very slowly, and calmly.
Vmmm—!
The sword's hum resonated.
A tingling vibration traveled up to his fingertips.
The sword sang out in strong response to the aura.
But it wasn't a negative reaction.
On the contrary, it vibrated powerfully, as if demanding more strength.
"Isis."
"Yes?"
"I need a favor."
Jamie, holding the sword at a diagonal slant, looked at Isis and spoke.
She knew exactly what he was asking without needing to inquire.
Isis spread her right hand wide, summoning the Thunder Dragon Sword Gram amid crackling blue lightning.
As she gripped the hilt tightly, a menacing boom! of thunder exploded.
"We might damage something here, so let's go somewhere open."
"Sure."
Near Avalon, there were vast open plains where no one lived, so the two headed to an empty spot and took their positions.
The onlookers followed them.
"Everyone, keep your distance."
At Isis's request, all the spectators backed away about a hundred meters.
Jamie looked at the yet-unnamed sword and spoke.
"I'm going to swing with full power."
"Sounds good~"
The two faced off, pouring all their focus into their respective swords.
And the moment they locked eyes, they swung with everything they had.
The two Dragon Slayers clashed in midair.
Flames and lightning intertwined wildly, creating a ferocious blast of air.
Kwararararak!!
Kuwoooo!!
A vortex of fire and lightning formed around them, instantly laying waste to the surroundings.
Even the onlookers, a hundred meters away, were shocked by the immense clash of power.
"Just two swords colliding, and this?!"
"So this is a Dragon Slayer."
"Jamie's sword isn't losing to Gram at all?"
"The light's intensifying! Everyone, fall back!"
Hawks flew backward while warning the others.
As he said, the energy from the two swords began transforming into an increasingly intense form of light.
The light expanded in an instant.
All of them being experts, they retreated swiftly as the light burst forth.
Vuuuuuum!!
The light, composed of fire and lightning, appeared calm on the surface, but violent chemical reactions raged within.
It seemed like a contest solely to determine whose power was greater.
But Jamie did not yield to the sword's will.
'Follow my will.'
Vmm!!
The sword resisted, but Jamie's unyielding mental strength crushed its will.
Gripping the hilt even tighter, he let out a silent shout of resolve.
Kuwoooooong!!!
Cracks appeared in the expanding orb of light from above, spewing forth a massive energy mass.
A tremendous shockwave erupted.
Dust billowed outward in concentric circles around the light.
The ground shook violently as if an earthquake had struck.
It was hard to believe this aftermath came from just one clash, but knowing the caliber of those involved and their weapons, no one commented.
The light slowly dispersed into particles, thick smoke billowing from within.
All the onlookers silently enhanced their vision to peer into the smoke.
However, the lingering aftermath of the two powers made it hard to see inside.
That was when it happened.
A wind blew, clearing the smoke.
And everyone looked at the two with astonished eyes.
"How was it?"
Isis slung Gram over her shoulder and asked Jamie.
Gram, unable to calm its excitement from the clash, kept trying to unleash lightning.
Isis continuously supplied aura to suppress it.
Jamie was doing the same.
"It's trying to rampage."
Perhaps because it was forged from a Dragon Heart.
Or maybe from the intense stimulation of the clash just now, it kept trying to spew flames incessantly.
Just like Gram.
Regardless of how well their temperaments matched, it was a difficult sword to handle.
He had expected as much since it was a Dragon Slayer, but it kept trying to break free of his control time and again.
Anyone with a weak will would be devoured by the sword.
And then, it would become a horrific demonic sword, a calamity upon the world.
'But now, it's in my hands.'
If he couldn't even handle this, carrying out his future plans would be impossible.
"So, how is it?"
Isis dismissed Gram and asked again.
There was only one answer to her question.
"Magnificent."
"Ril. Congratulations."
Isis patted Ironril's shoulder with a joyful face.
She looked much like a granddaughter at first glance, but in reality, she was several hundred years older than him.
She was of the same generation as his grandfather.
Ironril cleared his throat awkwardly and pretended indifference.
"Hmph. Nothing to congratulate. I just did what I could."
"Aw, he's embarrassed?"
"E-embarrassed? Who? I've surpassed that old man's level ages ago!"
Jamie chuckled at Ironril's reaction and nodded.
"You made something truly incredible."
"Well. Even I think it turned out well. The materials were top-notch. Mixed the Dragon Heart with the mithril and steel I'd been saving. It won't even get scratched by ordinary attacks. It's the sword you wanted."
"Yes. I felt it clashing with Gram earlier. This sword's hardness surpasses any I've seen. I'll put it to good use."
"Mm. You better."
"But aren't you both forgetting something important?"
Isis, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.
Jamie and Ironril tilted their heads at her.
Isis sighed at their expressions and pointed at Jamie's sword.
"Shouldn't you name it?"
Indeed.
Despite forging such an extraordinary sword, it still had no name.
Jamie scratched his chin as he looked at his sword now sheathed in its pristine white scabbard.
What name would suit this sword?
He had just obtained it, so he hadn't thought of one.
"I was focused on making it, so no name came to mind."
Even the creator, Ironril, was the same.
Normally, he'd name it right away, but this was a special case.
Given the materials, and as he said, he focused solely on completion.
Because it wasn't an ordinary sword.
As Jamie and Ironril pondered seriously, Isis raised her hand slightly.
"If you can't think of one, can I suggest? I have a name that fits perfectly."
"What is it?"
"Tell us."
Before saying the name, Isis explained why she thought of it.
"In Ran's legends, there are several great weapons. The name I'm suggesting comes from one of them."
Ran, the strongest of the three great races in terms of pure martial might—their legendary weapons were sure to be extraordinary.
"It's called Balisada."
"Balisada?"
"A legendary sword said to have been owned by one of my ancestors long ago. The original owner was someone else."
"...What do you mean?"
"Simply put, Balisada's original owner tried to kill my ancestor with it but failed, and instead, my ancestor took it. The problem is that Balisada's power was no ordinary thing."
"What power?"
"The power to cleave through space itself."
Jamie's eyes widened slightly at those words.
A sword that cuts space.
He understood why Isis recommended that name.
The Welton family's swordsmanship cleaved space.
And this sword, hand-forged by Ironril, was made to wield that power effortlessly.
"By the way, my ancestor who owned Balisada is probably well-known even in the human realm."
How would humans know of a Ran's ancestor?
As Jamie made a puzzled face, Isis grinned mischievously.
"Hero Roland. Balisada was one of his swords."
At the name Roland, both Jamie and Ironril looked slightly surprised.
The hero who commanded the world wielding the holy sword Durandal.
His name was renowned not just in the human realm but even in the dwarf realm.
Though his end was tragic, his heroic tales were widely known to posterity.
To think Roland had another weapon besides Durandal.
"Roland was a Ran?"
"Then his legendary transcendent power makes some sense."
"Anyway, seeing that sword, no other name but Balisada comes to mind."
"Balisada..."
Jamie drew the sword from its scabbard.
The dazzling silver blade gleamed sharply, as if ready to pierce space at any moment.
"Alright. From today, this sword is 'Balisada.' Great name."
"Yeah. It suits it perfectly."
"If it's Roland's sword, even I, the maker, have no complaints."
Jamie nodded in satisfaction.
"Yes. Balisada. Here's to working well together."
Vmm—
As if responding, Balisada let out a low hum.
"Heh heh heh. No idea how long it's been since I last dressed like this."
Creon gazed into the mirror while donning the robes permitted only to the leader of the Seven Knights.
His beard and hair were neatly trimmed, and he'd received fresh holy power from the main temple. Thanks to that, he'd nearly regained his youthful appearance from before.
"Looks like someone else."
Locked away for five years in the Sun Church's underground catacomb prison, he'd lost most of his vitality.
Even past fifty, he'd brimmed with youthful vigor, but the hellish environment of the catacombs had been enough to wear down his spirit.
His vitality had naturally withered away.
Unkempt hair and beard, deepening wrinkles, sallow skin, and a shriveling body had made every day a torment.
"This... this is it."
Creon placed a hand on the mirror and smiled in satisfaction.
Then he returned to his original spot.
Not without purpose. In his mind, the war scenario halted five years ago was rapidly unfolding.
Madness gleamed starkly in his eyes, reflected in the mirror.
"Jamie... Jamie Welton."
A name utterly hateful.
Without that wretched brat, the five years of humiliation wouldn't have happened.
He'd heard the boy had now reached a considerable realm as a grand sorcerer.
Having witnessed his talent firsthand, it wasn't surprising.
Rather, the thought of him being no easy prey sent blood rushing below.
He wouldn't die easily.
Crushing him like a bug would be no fun.
The stronger he grew, the fiercer his resistance, and squashing the hope blooming from that resistance would maximize the thrill of revenge.
Creon wriggled his fingers and grinned disgustingly.
"I'll make you beg for your life. 'Please spare me, Lord Creon. I'll be your dog. Your slave. I'll lick your feet. Just spare my life... Ah, no, don't touch my family. I'll be your slave forever. Woof woof! A barking dog in front of Lord Creon... Kehihihihihihi!!"
Creon cackled wildly, drool dripping as delusions ran rampant.
Beside him, a boy holding his robes stood with his head bowed low, shoulders trembling.
A newly assigned servant boy.
As Creon placed a hand on the boy's head, he felt the boy flinch.
Pure terror—it excited Creon intensely.
"Am I scary?"
"N-no, sir."
"Then why are you shaking?"
"I-it's a bit cold..."
"I see. Is it cold here? Well, it can be. Take it easy."
He turned away, gently stroking the boy's head with a kindly face.
The moment the boy sighed in relief and looked up at Creon.
"Huh?"
His vision tilted diagonally, like an illusion.
No, it wasn't an illusion.
The boy's head split diagonally and fell to the ground.
The floor was instantly drenched in blood.
Creon yawned lazily and muttered.
"Take it easy next to Zenith up in heaven. That's a promotion."
Then he stood before a black scabbard-mounted sword displayed on one side.
Creon carefully lifted it and slowly drew the blade.
The holy sword bestowed directly by God Zenith.
Though plundered from its original owner, since Zenith himself acknowledged its power, it was recognized as a holy sword.
Five years ago, he'd infiltrated Upton as a spy and couldn't bring it.
"It's been a while, Durandal."
The corner of Creon's mouth curved faintly upward.