Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Arc 30: Climax (1)
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Beryl stared in disbelief at his own arm rolling across the muddy ground.
He had definitely reacted to the enemy's attack.
He had judged that he could block it sufficiently.
Yet, his arm had been severed.
"Beryl!"
"Sir Onyx!"
From above came the voices of the Bell Marquis and Jamie.
Beryl gave a bitter smile.
He had shown such an unsightly sight.
Should I draw Gram?
Isis had told him not even out of curiosity not to use it.
But wasn't this different, now that he was in mortal danger?
Can I win by swinging that thing?
Though both were Sword Masters, the gap between them was like heaven and earth.
...This can't be happening.
This wasn't his first clash with another Sword Master.
It wasn't a life-or-death battle like this one, but he had crossed swords several times before. Yet he'd never been so utterly overwhelmed.
A devastated state of mind.
But he couldn't give up.
"Hoo—"
"You're tough."
The floral scent made his head throb.
Sable spoke to Beryl, who calmly resumed his stance despite losing an arm.
"It's pointless."
"Shut your mouth."
"You're outclassed. I acknowledge your skill. The Power of Wind is simple, yet astonishingly effective. But the time since you became a Master is different."
Sable's expression twisted into a cold smile.
Unlike his youthful appearance, he was actually over fifty.
Experience, presence, skill—superior in every way.
"You and the Welton Count you consider your rival... before me, you're both mere greenhorns."
The Sword Sage of the Selden Kingdom.
Unless it was him, young Sword Masters were still unripe.
"For someone who got such power by sheer luck to talk about skill... that's a bit much."
"The excuses of the defeated are always ugly. Bad matchup of powers, poor weather, off condition. Even if our powers were swapped, the outcome wouldn't change."
"Easy words!"
Though he had only one hand left, the Power of Wind made everything light.
The crumbling balance from his missing left arm was more than manageable with the Power of Wind.
Beryl closed the distance in an instant.
"Which is why you're no match."
Once more, the sword didn't move.
Beryl's eyes widened. He felt sharp killing intent, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.
In that situation, Beryl saw a red line appear on his side.
There was no time to ponder what the red line was.
But he had a strong feeling that ignoring it would lead to disaster.
Beryl twisted his body and unleashed his aura to the maximum.
The wind softly enveloped him, naturally altering his trajectory in midair.
He thrashed desperately to escape the red line.
As a result, the killing intent vanished, and the red line receded.
"Hoh."
Sable's side split open as if it had been slashed.
Feeling the flowing blood, he curled his lips upward.
In that brief moment, Beryl had reversed the outcome with aura and power.
Astonishing sense.
So this was why Sword Masters weren't made lightly.
Landing on the ground, Beryl breathed heavily.
That line on his side.
Now that he had some leeway, he had an idea what it was.
A line that twists fate!
If he hadn't become a Sword Master, if he hadn't faced the crisis of losing his arm, he never would have noticed it.
But even seeing it, dodging wasn't easy.
The enemy's power had reached that level.
"Didn't expect you to dodge."
Ignoring Sable's words, Beryl eyed the wound on his side.
A new wound had appeared where there was none.
And it looked freshly made.
"When your power fails, it rebounds on you, huh?"
"Where in the world is a power without risk?"
Sable nodded as he watched his foe resume his stance.
"Indeed, you're a cut above that executor I saw earlier."
"Underestimate me, and next time it won't end with your side."
"I'll give you credit for dodging. But..."
Sable kicked off the ground.
The aura-wrapped blade drew a beautiful arc, leaving afterimages.
Beryl saw lines that twisted fate appear all over his body.
He can wield his sword and power at the same time!
He'd never fought like this before.
His thigh was slashed. Then his calf, collarbone, forearm, and back.
So much blood flowed that a red mist formed in the air.
Amid it all, Sable's sword flew at him.
Clang—!
The two sword auras clashed briefly twice.
Even with the wind's power added to his heavy greatsword, he was pushed back in strength.
Sable pressed close, laughing as he spoke.
"Even without my power, you're no match."
His forearm split, blood flowing.
The Authority of Causal Reversal was fulfilling his every desire.
"This is the end for you."
The adjutant Sable that Beryl knew no longer existed.
The one before him wielded absolute force, Zenith's mightiest sword.
Damn it.
A red line traced his neck.
This close, dodging or interfering was impossible.
"If you hadn't shown up, I could have enjoyed my wandering a bit longer."
"...You bastard."
"Frontier must regret losing such a key asset."
Beryl could only grit his teeth at the sneer curling Sable's lips.
"Farewell."
His neck should have been severed.
That was certain.
"...What?!"
Sable's eyes widened.
Beryl was right in front of him. He should have seen the head fly upward.
But...
"Where'd he go?"
He had vanished without a trace.
Beryl blinked and looked around.
It was an empty space.
The old floor was embedded with weathered bricks, and the walls looked like mud crudely packed together.
Beryl rubbed his neck.
What happened?
A line that twisted fate had traced his neck.
He was sure he was dead, but when he came to, he was here.
Was this the afterlife?
[No need to worry, you're not dead.]
Then Jamie's voice came from the ceiling.
Beryl finally realized where he was.
"You moved me into Gremia."
[Yes. I was worried you might resist, but what luck.]
Just before Beryl's head flew, Jamie had teleported him into Gremia on a do-or-die gamble.
If Beryl had sensed something off and resisted, it wouldn't have worked, but the situation allowed a smooth pull.
"I owe you. You saved my life."
[No need. If you lost, we're finished too. Anyway, time's short. Want to hear my plan?]
"Got a good strategy? Hate to admit it, but he's a step above me. No ordinary plan will take him down."
[No guarantees, but it should work.]
Jamie sounded meaningful.
Beryl stood, gripping his greatsword.
"Tell me. Now's not the time to be picky about methods."
[Listen closely.]
Jamie explained the plan, and Beryl nodded.
[Can you do it?]
"Easily."
[What's the key?]
"Breathing."
[Here we go!]
Beryl's form blurred inside Gremia.
His grip tightened on the greatsword.
Sable suppressed his agitation and scanned for presences. But nothing.
Vanishing without warning—possible?
Teleportation, maybe...
Jamie Welton, that kid's power could do it.
But no mana was felt.
Meaning it wasn't magic.
Third-party intervention, for sure.
Sable glared sharply at the cliff top. He sensed multiple presences fleeing urgently.
He snorted, tightening his grip on his sword.
His aura thickened, forging the sword aura solidly.
He would cut.
The Authority of Causal Reversal produced the result.
The goal: 'Split the cliff.'
All power focused solely on that.
And the enemy awaited only that.
"You've taken the bait."
The vanished presence reappeared behind him like magic.
Sable instinctively leaned forward.
A stinging pain hit his back. It spread instantly, burning like fire.
"Kuh!"
"You shouldn't have aimed there!"
Beryl leaped over him, swinging for his neck.
Thud! The sword bounced off with a sound.
A blade thrust from below had blocked the attack.
But this was a Sword Master duel. One clash wouldn't end a breath.
The two swords crossed several times.
Though both were in awkward stances for swinging, these superhumans at the pinnacle seemed unperturbed.
But I didn't cut him.
Beryl clicked his tongue upon landing.
"Whatever you did..."
Sable's eyes turned bloodshot.
"Won't happen twice..."
Beryl vanished again.
And reappeared from the side.
Again.
Even right before his eyes, he couldn't track where he went or came from.
The eerie sorcery irritated him, but he wasn't helpless.
Sable raised his sword to defend while targeting gaps with his power. But the foe vanished again, power missing.
A new wound carved into his body.
Where this time?
A blade grazed his thigh.
Turning, Beryl was sheathing his greatsword with a grin.
Muscle slashed.
Sable staggered, propping himself with his sword.
"The Seven Knights' leader looks pathetic."
Beryl mocked, flicking blood from his greatsword.
Jamie's plan was succeeding.
The Gremia ambushes even stumped the monstrous Seven Knights' leader.
Keep the pressure, and he'd crumble.
"Kukuku."
As Beryl grew certain of victory.
Sable let out an unsettling laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"I get it now."
Sable glanced back at the cliff.
Doing magic-like feats without mana traces—only one thing.
"An artifact."
Beryl's eyes widened.
So did Jamie's on the cliff.
Sable burst into laughter at their reactions.
"Don't know the type, but spatial artifact. No mana trace because it's rechargeable, probably."
Rechargeable artifacts worked without mana if charged.
Gremia wasn't, but could run on mana charge, so not entirely wrong.
Concluding, Sable spoke in admiration.
"Jamie Welton indeed."
Only that kid could produce such a variable.
What a curious brat.
And at seven years old, so threatening.
"Should've killed you first after all."
"You'll have to get through me first."
"True. You're a problem too. Starting to adapt to me."
He'd pull another annoying trick.
No more ambushes, but prolonged fight favored the foes.
With his Sword Master ears, he heard hordes of hooves approaching.
"It'll be quick."
Sable gripped his sword two-handed.
In the shifted atmosphere, Beryl swallowed dryly.
He'd probably need to draw the Thunder Dragon Sword Gram.
"...He figured it out."
"So that's his true nature."
Jamie and the marquis grew more grave.
Figuring out Gremia didn't mean instant counter, but ambushes lost punch.
Beryl's fight would harden again.
What now?
As Jamie racked his brain for the next plan.
Sable gripped his sword two-handed.
Chill!!
Even from this high cliff, monstrous killing intent reached them.
The marquis's face darkened.
Though seasoned, his old body couldn't withstand a Sword Master's killing intent.
"Grandfather, you okay?"
"Fine, don't worry."
He gave his grandson a kind smile, eyes back on the cliff base.
In the tension, the two moved.
Jamie began reconstructing Gremia's form.
Ready for when Beryl was in danger or chance arose—to pierce the gap with Gremia.
Won't be easy, but must do it.
No other path to victory!
...Or so he thought—when it ended.
"Hurk—"
Beryl spewed a blood fountain from his chest.
He flipped his eyes back and collapsed face-down.
Jamie's eyes shook violently. Not a missed move.
He vanished and reappeared—like Beryl had been doing.
Difference: the method.
Sable had changed his power's use.
"From attack to defense, or movement."
Sable flicked blood from his blade.
"Causal Reversal—endless possibilities depending on use."
Regaining leisure, he turned to the cliff, voice raised.
"Your turn now."
Sable bent his knees to leap.
One jump sufficed.
Kill them all, return to base.
Stab—
Sable's eyes widened.
"Carelessness... is fatal."
Hearing Beryl's voice, he looked at his chest. A greatsword protruded through.
Turning slowly, Beryl lay far off, collapsed.
But odd—the massive sword was half-missing.
Not broken.
No... it's not halved.
It had pierced his back, crossing space.
"Damn you, Jamie Welton."
Form-construction artifact Gremia.
Wielded by Jamie Welton.
No—the great Black Sorcerer Diablo Volpir, who perfectly understood multidimensional structures.
"This is a wormhole, you fool!"
Jamie paid homage once more to Armion, Gremia's creator.
Without Gremia, they'd be pinned and dead.
Sable's knees hit the ground.
Seeing him, Jamie was certain of victory.
"You filthy scum...!"
Yet this mighty Sword Master was the war god's undefeated spawn.
"You'll beg for mercy."
Deep blue war divinity began enveloping Sable's body.