Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Borrowed Knife Stratagem
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*
Richter drew his longsword as he watched Fernandez charging toward him. A steel blade gleaming with a sinister grayish hue appeared in his grasp. Its tip protruded sharply, resembling a beast's fang.
-Clang!
Fernandez swung his greatsword downward in a single stroke. Though the impact was tremendous, Richter easily parried the attacker's sword path.
-Clang!
The greatsword spun around, gaining rotational force. Fernandez's body flowed forward like water, his navy-blue eyes leaving a long afterimage amid the thick darkness, between the thick snowflakes reflecting the mana lantern's light. Richter and Fernandez began their sword dance.
-Clang! Clang!
Once, twice. And then continuously.
-Kaang!
Fernandez's greatsword bit into Richter's crossed longsword guard and pushed forward. A fierce clash of strength. Richter glared at Fernandez and poured power into his arms. The strength he had built by devouring countless lives transcended that of humans—but
"You're no pure human. Reveal your true nature."
-Karduk.
Richter's sword locked with Fernandez's greatsword in midair, sparks flying. His eyes blazed red as he glared at Fernandez. It was a demonic gaze that would make an ordinary person's legs buckle and body stiffen like stone. Despite the unique mana of a high vampire, Fernandez moved without any sign of resistance.
"Inquisitor Angelo."
"Inquisitor, huh. Dogs of Beitasser. This power... Yes. I know the type. Demonica, are you?"
-Kaang!
Richter shoved the greatsword away with brute force. Demonica fought using overwhelming physical prowess. They were far from refined technique. Fernandez, whom he faced, was no different.
-Kaang!
Yet the blades clashed once more. And again. The greatsword whirled through the air like a falcon diving, then rebounded—each time, Richter felt a dull ache in his wrists and retreated.
-Kang! Kang! Kang!
Sparks scattered in all directions. Like a whirling storm, Fernandez's greatsword drew circles with added rotational force, striking relentlessly from above, below, left, and right. Blows that had been lightly parried grew heavier. Each rebound added counterforce—
-Kadududuk!!
It glanced off Richter's longsword, slid along his blood vessels, and flicked upward!
"Such...!"
"It's been a while since real combat."
Fernandez whispered from his lowered stance. His voice was close to a suppressed beast's growl. The greatsword reflected light once more. Now, strikes so fast and ferocious that only afterimages were visible!
-Kaang!
Some instinctual defense honed through Richter's long life saved him. Richter stumbled back two steps and regained his footing. Fernandez did not pursue, merely glaring as he slowly smiled.
"Not bad. The threat of death, I mean."
Until now, his close-quarters tactics had been very simple. Crush enemies with a Demonica's overwhelming power and ignore incoming attacks on his body. Give bone and flesh, take the enemy's life.
But now he had no immortality's blessing. Life was now like an endless race with death charging alongside him. Fernandez sheathed his greatsword and assumed position.
This was his first real combat since losing the blessing. Now he stepped into the realm of counterattacks, defense, and true technique. It was swordsmanship fundamentally different from his previous style that pursued only destruction—true swordsmanship in every sense.
-Crunch.
Fernandez loosened his stiff, aching wrist. His body was fully warmed up, heart pounding, muscles trembling. It was the threat of death. No matter how much of a Demonica he was, he couldn't survive a blade piercing his heart or throat.
That kind of threat awakened his senses—not touch, sight, or smell, but a sixth sense entirely different. Crossing the line of death. Literally traversing 'death' itself, the culmination of experience blooming forth.
-Tat.
Fernandez charged forward from his crouched stance. The holy sword's light left a long afterimage, illuminating the deck. Richter could barely block the strikes now. Sparks flew again. From all directions.
-Kang! Kang! Kang! Kang!
It was like a storm forged of steel. Fernandez's greatsword was a never-ending vortex. Each parried strike returned with greater centrifugal force, larger and stronger, plunging toward Richter's neck, heart, arms, and legs.
"You... bastaaard!!"
Richter bared his teeth and growled. In this life-or-death melee, Richter was a high vampire who had survived countless battlefields. His years of life and the skills and techniques honed from them were in no way inferior—but
The quality of experience differed. Fernandez had literally walked through death countless times. A realm no mortal could reach unfolded before his eyes. For all mortals, death was merely endured in that single final moment of life, a kind of endpoint.
-Kaaaang!
To Fernandez, up until now, death had been merely a gateway. The quality of that experience, the synthesis bridging life and death. Somewhere in between, the life experience tempered by treating his own life as mere expendable fuel, poured without restraint—his experiences overflowed as his wealth—
-Kwadududuk!
Space tore. Richter stared at his left arm splitting apart in the midst. The hand gripping his longsword flew through the air, and amid it all, Fernandez's navy-blue eyes gleamed.
They looked like the eyes of the Grim Reaper. The embodiment of death he had avoided his entire life.
"You... bastaaard!! No one, no one dares kill me, Grand Duke Fang of Franzrit! I am different from you mortal blood sacks, I am—my name itself is death!"
"There was another who said the same."
-Kwadududuk!
Once more, the greatsword tore through space, leaving a long trajectory.
"Even the God of Death was not free from death. Vampire."
Richter's body split vertically.
*
"Worthy of the War God's apostle."
Leya watched Fernandez wielding his greatsword like a storm, filled with admiration. Inquisitor, apostle of Beitasser. Martial prowess befitting the War God's warriors. At first it seemed evenly matched, but at some point Richter was driven to the edge of the deck.
"He's not the type to stop there."
Beside her appeared Abel, her clothes, cheeks, and hair soaked in the vampire's bloodied fluids. She shook the blood from her longsword and gazed at Fernandez.
"A man who will become the War God himself."
Abel could see Fernandez's swordsmanship shattering the boundary called 'realm' and advancing. It was akin to magic manifested through physical technique. A warrior was a pilgrim traversing the long, arduous path beyond realms to the pinnacle.
Fernandez underestimated his own talent. That was Abel's view. In his previous life, he had faced countless heroes, and those battles had harshly defined his standards for swordsmanship and talent.
To Abel, his talent was closer to martial prowess. Magic? An astonishing achievement, no doubt. But that achievement was the product of his efforts accumulated over a long life of struggle, pursuit, and flight—his entire previous existence.
His talent was exceptional too. But from the previous life's story he had told her, throughout that era he had aimed simply to survive.
Dagger throws and ambushes, poisonings and schemes. Even if all black mages chose such ways to survive, how many truly lived long enough to amass experience until their natural end? To Abel, what sustained that process was his innate martial talent.
-Kaaang!
Watching Richter's arm fly off, Abel was certain in this moment. Fernandez had undervalued his own talent. But now, with immortality's blessing gone, the talent buried in his instincts was awakening.
-Kwadududuk!
At first, she thought it was the lingering talent from Dain's soul melting into his body aiding his swordsmanship. But no. If the previous life's Fernandez had taken up the sword to survive, his life would have been entirely different.
If only he had met a slightly better master, grown in a better environment...
'What a pity.'
Tears flowed down Abel's cheeks. Knowing his life as she did, every moment was heartbreaking. He could have had a more glorious end. He could have become a hero acknowledged by all, loved by multitudes.
Instead of a heart growing cold with misery, lament, and regret, the rights he should have claimed. If not for some malevolent fate twisting his life.
'If I had been by your side.'
If I had been by your side in your previous life. You would have become a hero. Knowing vaguely the regrets he carried, Abel's heart ached.
'But now I am by your side. Fernandez.'
-Kwadudududuk!
Watching the greatsword cleave Richter's neck, Abel wiped her eyes. Her eyes glowed blue. You say there's no fate? No, there is. The rights given to you, the talent you possess. That was your fate.
'And I as well.'
She hoped so.
*
-Pududuk.
The moment Richter's body was shredded, it turned into a swarm of bats and scattered, reforming a short distance away. Richter, bleeding from head to toe, panted raggedly as he glared at him.
"Let's see how many more times you can survive like that."
Fernandez spun his greatsword in a wide arc and advanced toward him. Richter flailed his arms spasmodically and shouted.
"Block him! Block that bastard!"
-Pududuk!
With his cry, the bats plummeted toward Fernandez. Each one transformed into a vampire, swinging swords, spears, axes, and more at him.
-Kaaang!
Fernandez's heightened spirit, senses sharpened to the extreme by death's threat, detected every attack and traced the optimal path. He swung his greatsword along that line. A half-instinctual counterattack.
-Kwaduduk!
Blades snapped, spears shattered. One stroke per foe, or perhaps three or more. The vampires couldn't halt his advance even a single step.
Sparks flew, blood and flesh scattered everywhere. Slash, thrust, smash, parry, swing. Every attack flowed without interruption. Each blow carried the impact to shatter limbs.
In that instant, he advanced like a storm of steel. He drove his elbow into an enemy who closed too near, then swept his greatsword wide to decapitate two more, and crushed the next's skull.
In this moment, bearing the thread of divinity and walking the path of martial arts, such lowly vampires were no different from ghouls to Fernandez. Richter had only a year at most, and his high vampires were insufficient.
Richter ground his teeth at the sight, then scattered into bats once more. Fernandez cut down approaching foes while watching his escape. The bastard climbed the flagship's outer walls to its tip, the outer castle's spire, and shouted from there.
"You bastard! Don't think that swordplay was all I had!"
Yeah, sure. Fernandez thrust his greatsword into a lunging vampire's open mouth and smirked. Of course the bastard had mastered vampire-specific magic.
What was unfortunate for him was that magic was, to Fernandez, an even more familiar domain than swordsmanship—
-Bwoooo!!
The conch horn blared across the horizon once more. The blizzard had grown fiercer, and Malern's flagship was now visibly close to the naked eye.
'It's here.'
-Finally.
Another of Richter's blunders: the swordfight with Richter had merely been a delaying tactic—
-Kwaaaang!
A harsh cannon shot rang from Malern's flagship. Screeech—a shell's air-ripping trajectory pierced the sky. And soon.
-Kwajijik!!
"Wh-what?!"
It struck the outer wall where Richter stood. Continuous bombardment began destroying Richter's flagship. Massive shells pounded the outer castle repeatedly, cracks widening further.
"Why attack me?! Malern!"
"Did you think a godhunter would think nothing of seeing a divine being hunted without prior notice?"
Fernandez smirked. Malern's goal was to hunt gods, and unfortunately, this fleet held three divine presences. Abel, Fernandez, Melisildur.
Abel and Melisildur's presences were nearly imperceptible. But Fernandez had succeeded in exaggerating his divine presence through hours of preparation. This was the bait to draw Malern in.
"And seeing the Eternal King's flagship, what did you think Malern would assume?"
Malern, upon spotting Gaime rn's flagship, must have felt threatened by Richter. If such a being was secretly hunting gods right under his nose. Naturally—
"Fisherman's profit, borrowed knife murder, sowing discord. Whatever you call it."
-My specialty.
Feizashi Wildcast cackled. Using the enemy's blade to cut the enemy's throat. One of his favorite strategies in his previous life.
-Kwaaaaang!
Another cannon shot from Malern's flagship. Richter's flagship, Gaime rn's fortress, lacked any protective spells that should have been there in the past. It was mere rags dressed up in a fancy exterior.
It shouldn't have been vulnerable to such physical bombardment, but the bastard's ship was shattering in real time.
The vampires panicked and scattered from the battlefield. Richter's control plummeted. Watching Malern's bombardment, Fernandez spun his greatsword and sheathed it.
"Now just deal with that bastard."