The Owner of the Holy Sword -5-
A fierce clash unfolded. The battle between the one-armed Apostle of Temperance and Elysia spread a chilling tension throughout the space where the Holy Sword lay dormant. Elysia distorted the surrounding space, expanding it further to create more room for her attacks. She erased the walls and began widening the domain far beyond its previous limits.
-Kwa-deu-deu-deuk...!
She infused the displayed armor with emotion, forcing it to move like puppets. "Sever that man's head and bring it to me."
The Apostle of Temperance did not remain idle either. He drew up black mana to expand his domain of law, nullifying Elysia's magic while firing spheres of mana at her. Ironically, neither of them took a single step from their positions, yet the chaos they created rivaled a natural disaster.
What I saw before me was clear: Elysia's blue mana and the Apostle's black mana carved lines across the space, claiming their territories.
-Pajik...
On the surface, their exchange seemed evenly matched. Whenever Elysia twisted space to attack, Temperance erased it with his law. But—
"You're resorting to such pathetic tricks…!"
"..."
"Ahaha! Then why do you look so strained while saying that?"
"..."
"You should stay calm, Temperance...!"
Elysia mocked him. The battle raged so fiercely that it was impossible to tell who held the advantage, yet a mad grin never left her lips. In contrast, cold sweat trickled down the Apostle's forehead. Wiping it away, he spoke in an unwavering voice.
"Do not delude yourself, Gentleness. If I draw out my true power, someone like you—"
"I feel the same way."
Elysia’s eyes glowed blue as she began pulling up deep black mana. "I haven't even started yet."
-Saaaaaah...
The space began to stain. Under Elysia's mana, the area tore apart and mended repeatedly. The white floor rippled like waves, forming an abyss beneath, while the ceiling walls sprouted massive spikes that stretched toward the Apostle's head as if trying to grasp the sky.
The Apostle clicked his tongue. "Kuh..."
He hadn't expected Elysia's magic to be this powerful. She was a woman who had lived alone—an Apostle without archbishops or followers under her command. Replenishing black mana normally required vast manpower and complex rituals, yet he couldn't understand how her power never seemed to run dry.
A hypothesis flashed through his mind—one even ordinary people knew.
-Black mana is different from regular mana.
-Depending on one's desires, replenishing it could demand bone-grinding effort or be as natural as breathing.
Recalling Elysia's back as she prayed in the dark sanctuary, the Apostle ground his teeth. The reason Gentleness had continued praying wasn't due to madness—it was to grow stronger.
"Heh..."
Elysia's lips curled upward. The Apostle's law was crumbling. The domain that had never once broken was now shaking. Proof lay in how the floor beneath his feet writhed like slime touched by flame.
"Don't make me laugh!!!"
-Kwaaaaaang!!!!
The Apostle's complexion grew increasingly pale. He had never imagined cracks forming in his unbreakable law. The strongest shield—one he believed even the Empire's sword couldn't pierce—was being breached by a single woman, and it shook him to his core.
Elysia sneered at him. "You're wavering."
"..."
"Your law is shaking, Temperance."
"...Shut up, Gentleness."
"If you let your guard down like that, you'll die."
There were too many things to worry about. He had to avoid Gentleness's emotion-manipulating mental domination and watch for physical attacks from blind spots. Moreover, that man—
"..."
The silent figure watching him could join the fight at any moment. The mana radiating from him was on par with his own—perhaps even equal to the Empire's sword. The unexpected appearance of such a powerful foe made the Apostle grit his teeth and mutter under his breath.
"I didn't want to use this magic..."
In an instant, the air around the Apostle changed. The magic circle of law that had covered the floor began being absorbed into his body, while hazy black walls rose from all sides. Placing his hand on one, he spoke quietly.
"Regret this in hell, Gentleness."
The black walls wrapped around him like armor. Countless spells and laws covered his form, and soon black armor materialized over his body. As the walls vanished, a suit of armor that defied the laws of the world appeared, along with a black blade in his hand.
Yes—a ta-do. A sword with an abnormally long blade, unsuitable for ordinary swordsmen. The black blade, stretched like a serpent, began coiling around the Apostle's hand, bringing a cold wind with it. Holding the two-handed weapon with only one hand, he let out a faint sigh.
"No one has ever survived after seeing this armament."
"What an honor... I'll be the first."
"How arrogant, Gentleness."
"But Temperance, you do know that armament eats away at your lifespan, don't you?"
"Of course I do..."
As a chilling melody began to spread, Elysia transformed the surroundings into a soft liquid, reshaping the battlefield.
"How amusing. Watching a fly struggle..."
-Kugugugugu...
"It's entertaining."
Elysia glanced at me and severed the space. "Saint."
"..."
"Leave this fight to me."
She disappeared along with the Apostle, cutting off the space between us. I watched them vanish into the distance with a bitter smile. The Apostle's armament originally required two blades. The tide had already turned in Elysia's favor.
*
I stared at the Holy Sword still gripping the Apostle's severed hand and let out a hollow laugh. "Impressive."
The sight of the Holy Sword was enough to make one think of a demonic blade instead. It was absorbing the black mana left behind by the Apostle. The hand still attached to the hilt withered like a mummy, losing all moisture.
"At this point, it's more of a demonic sword than a holy one."
Soon, the hand crumbled into sand, losing all vitality. Once the white grains scattered, the Holy Sword radiated its usual brilliance as if it had never tasted black magic.
"..."
I turned to Mikhail with an awkward smile. "What do you think?"
"...Yes?"
"Do you think you can pull it out?"
"Ah..."
"One thing's certain."
-Hwoooooong.
Watching the Holy Sword stir with sword aura, I shook my head. "I don't think I can grasp it."
My intuition told me the Holy Sword was rejecting me. If I tried to take it, it would unleash fierce resistance, refusing even to let me approach—let alone acknowledge my worth. The only person who could draw the sword here was Mikhail.
"...Gulp."
If this were the novel, Mikhail would naturally be able to pull it. In the story, when Rowan and the Apostle faced off, Mikhail had rushed desperately to find the Holy Sword under Rowan's orders.
-Don't worry about this place and find the Holy Sword.
-But...!
-That's an order. If we retreat without achieving anything, it'll be disastrous.
-...Please hold on a little longer.
In the novel, she had found the sword that way and helped Rowan escape the temple safely. The qualifications to wield the Holy Sword were those of a hero and a heart of pure white. Considering the sword's sorrowful nature, Mikhail's qualifications were more than sufficient—they overflowed.
The only thing that worried me was that my presence had become part of her journey so far.
"..."
I was concerned about how this variable—me—might affect things. Still...
"Will you try grabbing it?"
The outcome wouldn't change. It was worth attempting. Mikhail looked at me once, then nodded. As her hand reached for the Holy Sword without hesitation, I raised an eyebrow.
"You're going to grab it just like that?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you scared? You saw someone's hand get cut off."
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Because Ricardo said I could pull it out."
"..."
"Honestly, saying I'm not scared would be a lie, but still..."
-Grab.
"I'm dumber than Ricardo, so..."
"..."
"I trust my friend."
Mikhail closed her eyes and grasped the Holy Sword. A thrilling energy surged through her fingertips as her mana harmonized with the sword's power. It mixed cleanly, as if they had always been one body. I couldn't help but admire the warmth of the Holy Sword.
But—
-Pajik.
"Ah...!"
The Holy Sword was not a gentle creature. I could see it struggling, as if it had discovered a single flaw in the pure mana. The once-clear mana began to clash, and Mikhail's brow furrowed deeply.
"...!"
Startled, I called out to her, telling her to let go of the sword even now. "Misa!"
"..."
"Misa...!"
Cold sweat poured down Mikhail's forehead. As she convulsed as if she couldn't hear my voice, I gritted my teeth. Where did things go wrong? Mikhail becoming the Holy Sword's owner was a confirmed fact... So where had the timeline twisted?
Mikhail was a good person. Though the story had diverged from the novel, there was no reason for the sword to reject her based on her character and actions. There had to be another cause—one not from Mikhail or me, but from an external factor...
'Ah...'
Could it be because of the Apostle's black mana?
-An ancient text once read:
-Those without qualification who grasp the Holy Sword shall suffer great pain.
-Yet if they endure that pain and hold the sword to the end with wickedness and arrogance, the evil spirit sealed within shall awaken.
-This is ruin.
Recalling the Apostle's words too late, I grabbed the Holy Sword. Mikhail alone couldn't handle the Apostle's mana. The Holy Sword's energy, which might have slumbered for hundreds or thousands of years, should have been pure and calm. But a sword that had absorbed the Apostle's power could easily cause backlash during its transformation. If so, the sword was now in an overloaded state, and Mikhail might have to bear the Apostle's mana as it changed.
In the worst case, the entity called "Ruin" sealed by the sword might be craving black mana to seek even stronger dark magic.
Confused by information not even in the novel, I quickly grabbed the sword and poured my strength into it. And then—
'This isn't the Holy Sword...?'
I realized something beneath the sword was devouring mana. A massive, explosive force was using the sword as a medium to crave greater power.
'...'
It was absorbing. The entity desiring stronger black mana was yearning through the sword as its conduit. The blade we held was indeed the Holy Sword, but beneath our feet, something that had tasted the Apostle's black mana and awakened was struggling against the sword's restraints.
A mistake. My failure to account for this variable. I could feel strength draining from my body. My fading consciousness sensed the mana left in me being sucked away. It was clear—the Holy Sword and the thing that was not the Holy Sword were clashing.
-Saaaaaah.
-Kagagagagak...
My ears began ringing. And then—
"Ah... This is bad."
The temple began to darken. The once-pure white sanctuary gradually lost its light. Only the area around the Holy Sword remained brilliantly white, while the rest was swallowed by darkness.
It was a dangerous situation, but if I let go, Mikhail's mind could collapse. Her mana circuits might shatter beyond recovery. I needed to think of a way to protect both the sword and Mikhail.
'I remember...'
-The Saintess has an extremely high affinity with black mana. Honestly, I think it's amazing that the Saint managed to endure black mana strong enough to harm the Lady's body.
-...Why do you call the young lady the Saintess, Hans?
-From a black mage's perspective, the Lady—
-...
-Surpasses even a Saintess.
Black Magic Resistance Lv.5
I recalled the remnants of black magic within my body. Thinking back to when I had taken the Lady's black magic in her place, I released the suppressed black mana all at once. As the massive black mana began vanishing through the Holy Sword, the remnants inside me started to disappear completely.
Yes—black magic. The moment I unlocked the resistance, the black mana I had been suppressing began to flow out. The black mana that had been blocking my mana pathways was now vanishing to the point where resistance was no longer needed.
Vitality surged. Mana so clean and pure that I couldn't imagine my previous self coursed through my entire body, pressing against my veins. But I had to draw the sword. I couldn't let that craving entity steal this mana.
We needed time for Mikhail, who had regained consciousness, to pull out the sword. Right now, I couldn't move because I was suppressing the entity below. Yet there was no way to make Mikhail draw the sword with a body that couldn't even twitch a finger.
As complicated thoughts flooded my mind—
"Stop right there!"
A savior appeared. "Don't steal my fainting scene...!"
Seeing Shuen arrive covered in talismans, I smiled. "Wow... Nice timing."
Shuen grinned with a blank expression. "Hehe!"