True Sword Duel
His body isn't in as good a shape as I expected. Once the fight starts, he'll struggle just to breathe, let alone talk.
Kiriol took a half-step back. Jian understood it as an invitation to skip the wind-up and come at him directly.
"So I'll ask right from the start. What's your connection to the Sword God?"
Jian quickly raised his sword into a defensive stance. He couldn't gauge how fast the man would charge. If it was anything like before, he wouldn't need to worry too much, but the odds were high that Kiriol hadn't gone all out earlier. Since he was likely hiding his full strength, Jian couldn't afford to underestimate him.
"...Looks like you don't plan on answering."
Kiriol stepped forward. The axe blade traced a swift oval arc and crashed into the sword. Two vicious edges scraped against each other, screaming with a sharp metallic ring. A shower of sparks lit up the corridor in a blinding flash before vanishing just as quickly.
Jian shoved the axe away with his blade and took a step back. Kiriol gave him no breathing room. The next attack came in a rhythm-breaking feint, and their weapons clashed again. Sword and axe ground together, the serrated edges howling in protest. As their razor-sharp blades wore each other down, their eyes met.
A conversation clearer than any words passed between them in that instant. Then they pushed each other apart.
While Kiriol worked to steady his ragged breathing, Jian showed not even the slightest sign of strain. Jian spoke first. Kiriol held back, quietly observing his opponent's movements. There was nothing particularly threatening in them.
"Why did you suddenly take over Henry's body? If all you wanted was to clear your bad name in the arena, you could've just stayed quiet."
"...It's because of your swordsmanship. No matter how I look at it, your technique is a carbon copy of the Sword God's. It makes me wonder if you're the same person."
Whether he'd said it to buy time or simply answered honestly, even Kiriol himself couldn't tell.
"So? Are you out for revenge?"
"Who knows. Do I have any reason to be? But the only thought in my head right now is that I want to fight you."
"You might end up unable to clear your name at this rate."
Kiriol raised his axe.
"I know."
Jian lifted his sword to meet him. Neither moved. Yet in that brief moment, they crossed blades dozens of times without stirring an inch. Having survived countless battles, both could see exactly how the fight would unfold even without actually striking.
If I raise my axe, he'll definitely block with his sword.
He's faster than me, so he'll try to swing the axe in some unpredictable way.
The subtle shifts in their eyes, the tiniest adjustments of their feet, the way they held their bodies—everything revealed their intentions.
But he'll block any ordinary move I make.
From his perspective, dragging this into a long psychological battle would be the safest option, but...
With this wizard's body, even that won't be easy.
There was no easy path to victory. Neither of them was the type to fall for cheap tricks. In the end, the only viable option was a fast, powerful strike.
If he lacked confidence, he'd back off and try to drag it out, but he doesn't seem like that kind of guy.
Reaching the same conclusion at almost the same moment, they both settled into their stances.
It's going to be decided in one blow.
Not a single word was exchanged, yet it felt as if they'd already agreed on how the coming clash would play out. Both were certain of what the other would do next.
Kiriol poured every ounce of his focus into his axe. At the same time, he felt an eerie sensation, as if the entire sequence of events was dragging him back into the past and driving him deep into the ground.
When was that? I've felt this once before. The Sword God. No... maybe even before that...
He couldn't quite describe what the feeling was, but one thing was clear: the deeper he sank into the past, the more transparent everything else became, and the sharper his blade grew. That much was undeniable.
He stepped forward. The distance between them closed in an instant. They brushed past each other in the blink of an eye. Neither showed any change yet. The scene was frozen like time itself had stopped, wrapped in perfect silence.
But the outcome didn't need to be shown through movement. The moment the sword flowed, the match had already been decided. Time simply revealed what was already done.
"Damn it..."
Kiriol whispered the words so softly they were meant only for his own ears. With that single murmur, he collapsed.
All strength left his body. Kiriol somehow managed to roll over, but that was all he could do. He couldn't move another inch.
Jian laid his sword down beside him and sat near Kiriol.
"Huh... Weren't you supposed to take me to that priest? Something about exorcising me."
"Don't rush me. We'll go eventually."
Jian immediately asked, "Why did you jump in? If you wanted to erase the stigma from the arena, staying quiet would've been better. Win or lose."
"Well... I don't really know myself. I just suddenly wanted to fight, I guess."
It wasn't that he was trying to lie. Kiriol genuinely couldn't understand it. At this point, he was starting to feel confused about himself. Hadn't he lingered as a vengeful spirit just to shake off that bad reputation?
"More importantly, you're a real monster. Even more than the Sword God. To pinpoint the exact pressure points in that short amount of time..."
"You've grown dull. From what I heard, you were far better than this."
"Heard? From who?"
"The Sword God."
At those words, Kiriol's eyes widened. He tried to sit up in shock, but his paralyzed body only managed a slight twitch.
"Careful. That's Henry's body you're using."
Despite the warning, Kiriol couldn't calm down.
"The... the Sword God? He talked about me?"
"Yeah. A few times."
"H-how do you know that? And before that—what exactly is your relationship with the Sword God?"
Watching Kiriol fail to hide his panic, Jian answered quietly.
"He was my master. Died a long time ago."
Kiriol still looked bewildered, but now everything seemed to click into place. He finally understood why this man's movements had felt so eerily similar to the Sword God's.
"That guy... he occasionally mentioned the man he met in the arena finals. Said he was looking forward to their next match. That his movements were outstanding. That's what he said."
"...I don't understand. That guy should've seen through my moves instantly."
"Well, I said the same thing, but he just shrugged and answered like this."
Jian cleared his throat and did his best to imitate his master's tone.
Kiriol remained silent for a moment.
"And he added that if you kept going like that, you'd become much stronger."
"Did he mean it?"
"How would I know? But he wasn't the type to say things like that as empty flattery, so yeah, he probably did."
Unable to fully grasp the Sword God's words, Kiriol quietly recalled their battle in his memory, replaying the man's form over and over. Each time, other fragments of his own life slowly drifted in as well. Strangely, this time he felt no regret at all.
It might have been emptiness, but what he felt more strongly was relief. It was as if a weight that had been hanging in his heart had been casually cut away.
Soon the slight tension that had remained in his body completely melted. His gaze drifted up toward the ceiling.
"It's funny. The arena, my reputation... none of it really comes to mind anymore."
Jian glanced at him and said, "I had a feeling from the first time I saw you. You're not exactly what I'd call a good man. It was probably less about honor and more that losing the fight itself bothered you."
Hearing that, Kiriol let out a natural chuckle.
"Yeah. I'm not much of a good man."
Jian brushed off his backside and stood up.
"Mind giving me a hand? I don't even have the strength to walk to the priest."
"You don't need to go to Laverre. Just stay around here, rest up, and leave Henry's body once the arena matches are over."
Kiriol understood Jian's intention. Though the man acted prickly, he was clearly trying to help clear away the last of Kiriol's stigma.
Kiriol thought for a moment, then called out to stop him.
"No. It's fine."
"Why? Changed your mind?"
"Yeah. I don't have any lingering attachments now. This seems like the right time to go."
Kiriol stared at the ceiling. He couldn't see the blue sky like he had when he lost to the Sword God, but the empty ceiling somehow reflected an even bluer sky inside his heart.
"Sorry for causing nothing but trouble until the very end."
"Say that to Henry, not me."
"Then could you pass it on for me?"
"That's all?"
Kiriol grinned as he answered.
"If possible, tell him to get some exercise too."
The arena's ghost, Kiriol, closed his eyes for the final time simply as one warrior.
It was fun. Disciple of the Sword God.
Repeating that single phrase to the end.
A moment later, the eyes opened again. But the calm expression from before instantly crumpled and twisted. At the same time, a scream-like groan burst out.
"Aaaah... Go easy on me..."
Jian smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in relief.
"Hey. He said you should get some exercise."
Henry Morrison answered with a distorted expression.
"...You guys are the real monsters."