The Holy Sword and the Ominous Spear
The two colossal powers collided. BOOM—!
The weapons that had slammed into each other while facing one another canceled out their respective forces. A deafening roar that shook the entire dungeon erupted, as if two massive beasts had crashed together. Yet the shockwave that accompanied the roar sent Arty and Aria flying backward.
Both of them were hurled back at the same time.
“Ugh—!”
“Kyaa…!”
Arty ultimately lost his grip on the Holy Sword. The blue blade scattered into the air like mist. His twisted arm muscles screamed in pain. A Skeleton Rider charged past them, trailing eerie flames. The clatter of hooves grew distant, yet the creature still circled the area. It was only natural that it would wheel its mount around and charge again.
A chill ran down Arty’s spine.
“!”
It was an absolute crisis—an instant of being disarmed right in front of the enemy during battle. But something else made him far more anxious.
The Holy Sword can be resummoned, but I have to protect the Saintess…!
Arty gave up on forcing himself to stand. Instead, he wrapped both arms around Aria to shield her. They tumbled across the ground until he was left battered and broken. In the end, he had taken every impact alone.
His clothes were torn in several places, and blood trickled from a small gash on his head. Barely propping himself up on the floor, he spoke to Aria in his arms with a trembling voice.
“S-Saintess… a-are you… alright?”
“Ah, ah…!”
Aria had fallen into a slight panic from the sudden turn of events. But she bit her lip hard and quickly made a decision. Still held in his embrace, she placed a hand on his back. A faint golden light flowed from her pale palm.
“O blessing of the sun… please…! Protect him….”
The light slowly seeped into Arty’s wounds. Aria kept her eyes tightly shut, focusing solely on the healing. She abandoned her usual gentle words. In this situation, she had realized that actions mattered more than words of gratitude for his sacrifice.
“!”
Arty said nothing more. He activated his second heart and drew out the maximum acceleration of healing. It felt as if every fluid in his body was boiling furiously.
Urgh…! It’s hot, but…! Even if I push myself…!
Thanks to their combined efforts, Arty’s injuries recovered considerably in an instant. The two staggered to their feet. They resummoned the Holy Sword and drew holy symbols, preparing for the next attack.
But the Skeleton Rider gave them no time to regain their stance. It aimed its spear at them once more. At its tip, blue ghostly flames whipped violently like a banner.
“Kgh!”
“Haa…!”
Arty raised the Holy Sword, gathering mana as he shouted.
“That thing from before—!”
“…!”
It was an urgent request stripped of all context. Yet Aria understood the vague plea.
“O great sun—! Protect us!”
A golden radiance burst from her hands, forming a thin barrier that barely shielded the two of them.
[GRRRRAAAHH—!]
The Skeleton Rider finally reached them again and struck the obstructive barrier with its spear. At the same moment, the Veil of the Sun shattered like glass struck by an iron club.
CRASH—!
A long spear took time to swing and retrieve. Instead, the Skeleton Rider’s ominous steed reared up, lifting its front hooves high. The two hooves, brimming with blue ghostly fire, aimed to pulverize the head of the leading Arty.
“!”
In that fleeting motion, Arty spotted an opening. The moment it had stopped recklessly to chain its attacks!
Now—!
The judgment came unconsciously. Arty poured mana into both legs. His muscles swelled as if they would burst, gathering the strength to reach that high point.
My target is the center of the blue flames…!
It was the head of the Skeleton Rider looking down from above.
“Haaah—!”
Arty leaped forward with the blue Holy Sword thrust out in both hands. The faint mana flowing from his body drew a straight line. That energy scattered the sinister flames.
The Skeleton Rider flinched at the Holy Sword’s aura that dispersed its own fire. It was the instinctive reaction of an undead monster fearing holy attacks.
[…!]
That brief hesitation created an even larger opening. The blade finally reached its mark! The strike drove precisely into the rider’s left eye socket.
CRUNCH—!
The Skeleton Rider thrashed. Ghostly fire spewed from its mouth and eye socket, but the embedded Holy Sword caused the flames to scatter in several directions.
[GRRRRAAAHH—!]
“Haaah—!”
Still mounted on the ominous steed, Arty desperately focused on the sensation at his fingertips. In his subconscious, his master’s voice echoed.
—Gather your power into a single point. That is one of the essences of swordsmanship.
“!”
He exploded every sensation traveling up his forearm, past his wrist, and to the tip of the blade.
In this very moment—!! I will definitely kill it—!!
At the end of the Holy Sword, faint blue mana condensed. The needle-thin stream of mana shot toward the Skeleton Rider’s skull like an explosion.
SWOOSH—!
Like a compressed jet of water shattering rock, the fired mana pulverized half of the Skeleton Rider’s skull. Blue ghostly flames erupted explosively from the remaining skull fragments.
Arty felt a surge of joy. He had done it. He had protected her. He had defeated it.
I… I can do this…!
But then—within the scattering blue flames, he caught sight of the ominous black stake rising from the Skeleton Rider’s spine. A shiver ran down Arty’s back.
“…Huh?”
[…!]
Crunch. Crack.
The body of the Skull Rider, whose head had been destroyed, slowly began moving again. Sticky black energy oozed from the black stake.
The Black Stake’s corrupting power flows. The fallen undead begins its resurrection.
*
Lydia smashed through the flimsy prison and hoisted Mave onto her back.
“…Heave.”
Mave was still rolling her eyes back and twitching. She possessed the most impressive figure and spirit among the four heroines, yet right now she looked utterly pathetic. Foam dribbled from Mave’s mouth.
“Ugh, glurk….”
“….”
Lydia ignored it.
“…Good. At any rate, I’ve rescued the one who was farthest away.”
Three students were already draped over Lydia’s slender shoulders, all squirming. Yet her expression remained completely unchanged. Five skeletons charged toward her from all directions, spewing ghostly fire.
“Kyaaaack—!”
“….”
Lydia kicked them away with an expressionless face. Each kick caused the air itself to explode. At the same time, the skeletons shattered without leaving a trace. More skeletons sprouted from the ground like weeds.
While rescuing the students, Lydia continued smashing the skeletons. She looked exactly like a farmer treading barley while carrying a straw bundle on her back.
…Strange. A mere early-game boss like the Skeleton Rider is maintaining an infinite mob wave like this? Shouldn’t the summoning pattern end and everything calm down?
The Skeleton Rider was certainly a powerful monster “for the early stages.” It was the kind of trap boss that occasionally appeared during dungeon runs, creating tension through bad luck. But that was only in the early portion of the game.
No matter how much one accounted for the differences between game and reality… this was clearly abnormal. At this level, even the skilled veteran instructors and teaching assistants would struggle.
…This endless cursed flame is closer to the firepower of mid-to-late game direct subordinates of the Dark Realm—monsters that are relatively weak but extremely persistent. With summoning power this tenacious, Instructor Zack would have canceled class in the original story as well.
“….”
But there had been no such description in the original work. She had double-checked it again last night in the Dream Library, so she was certain. The Skeleton Rider was not a monster this strong. Through countless real battles, she understood better than anyone how the power level of monsters in this world aligned with her game knowledge. That was why she had felt somewhat reassured, yet…
…Why did it suddenly become this strong?
It had diverged from the original story. She had been prepared for changes, but she hadn’t expected them to appear this quickly. Lydia pondered deeply.
“….”
…No. There had been cases like this. In the original story, there were occasional instances where undead monsters were strengthened by one stage beyond their original state. There were even cases where they revived after being defeated. It happened after the mid-game. It was caused by the “evil” that had begun to entangle itself with this world.
The secret society of the Ember Knights’ mortal enemy—the shadow behind this world—
Could it be that the Black Temple has already…?
“!”
The moment her thoughts reached that point, Lydia urgently looked toward the direction where the Skeleton Rider was fighting. There, ominous ghostly flames, golden lightning, and blue mana flickered faintly.
RUMBLE—!BOOM—!
“….”
Lydia narrowed her eyes and muttered.
“I thought I was the one who had twisted things first. But it seems that side was already twisted as well.”
She continued smashing the skeletons while moving the students to a safer location. It looked like she would need to go help Arty and Aria.
Yet she felt no sense of crisis.
“…Hmm.”
It was an unexpected situation, but she still held the initiative. And she still had a card that had not yet revealed its light. If that card failed to shine, this round would end with no gains. But if it did shine…
A truly reliable sword would be born several months ahead of schedule.
Arty, the one I taught… if it’s the current you…
Would he be able to do it?
Lydia watched over this chaotic board.
*
RUMBLE—!
Golden lightning shot forth, and the floating skeletons crashed down from the air. Aria’s holy artifact also crumbled into dust and vanished.
“….”
It was a relatively valuable consumable made of blessed silver. But she had used it without hesitation to cast holy spells in succession.
“Hoo, hoo…!”
She caught her breath and glanced toward Arty. He, too, was breathing heavily while firmly gripping the Holy Sword. The two remained silent as they panted.
“….”
“….”
Countless skeletons approached, surrounding them while harboring ghostly fire. They were completely encircled.
—Kyahahaha—!
—Kihihihik—!
And at the end of them. The faceless Skeleton Rider, its missing skull now filled with ghostly fire, slowly approached. The spear in its hand was so covered in flames that it looked like a lance from a jousting match.
[….]
The roars it had bellowed throughout the battle were gone. But its silent movements carried even greater pressure than before. The exhausted pair could only remain silent in front of it.
“….”
“….”
They instinctively knew. Death was right before their eyes.
Arty gripped the Holy Sword while gasping for breath. But the Holy Sword finally lost its form and scattered once more. His stamina had reached its limit, so it could no longer maintain its shape.
“?!”
“?!”
Arty and Aria despaired at the sight.
“Kgh…?!”
“….”
At the same time, the Skeleton Rider spewed ghostly fire from its entire body. A massive flame surged into the air like a barrier, shaking the dungeon floor.
[—!]
The surrounding skeletons also stretched out their arms in sync, emitting ghostly fire. Flame intertwined with flame. An ominous funeral rite was beginning.
The space was filled with the energy of a curse. Arty and Aria felt an extreme chill.
“Huk…!”
“Hngh…!”
It was a sinister aura so powerful that the living could no longer endure it. It was slowly devouring those who still drew breath.
Even while gasping, Arty looked up at the flames with a desperate expression. He needed something to break this situation.
“….”
If things continue like this… the Saintess, Aria will…
At that moment, a quiet voice came from behind.
“…Hero, please run away.”
“…?!”
Arty turned around. Aria was smiling.
“Run away and ask the princess for help.”
“…Saintess.”
“And while following her teachings, please continue thinking endlessly for the sake of the people. Even if the approaching fate is unreasonable. Endure it without cease.”
“….”
Arty was at a loss for words at her calm smile.
Just what… in this kind of situation… how…?
The moment he tried to answer, he noticed Aria’s trembling hand. She was not calm. She had made a resolution.
“….”
Arty agonized as he watched her helplessly shaking hand.
…Why did someone as incompetent as me become the Hero of the Holy Sword?
In his heart, he recalled the most reliable person he knew.
….
Beautiful and strong master of mine, please answer my question.
Why am I the Hero?
Just two months ago, I was nothing more than an ordinary boy who dug the earth.
Is it merely because of fate?
“….”
There was no answer. She was currently saving people. People whom only he could save if he won….
“….”
What exactly is fate?
To that question, the Holy Sword Danan, which had been dormant beneath his right hand, answered.
Fate is will.
“…!”
Will.
The moment he heard that word, a realization flashed through Arty’s mind.
—To follow is your freedom.
—I want to help you.
—An… invitation to the academy?
Not a single thing that had happened so far had forced fate upon him. Even on the day he received the Holy Sword….
That night. The one who had chased after Lydia—
“Everything… I chose myself.”
Wield your will.
Arty clenched his empty hands tightly. Then he answered Aria.
“…No. I will not run. I have decided that.”
“Hero?!”
Arty turned his back and walked forward. Ahead, the flames of countless evil spirits blazed, pressing down on him. A suffocating curse weighed heavily upon him. Yet he kept walking.
Aria screamed.
“No—! Run away—!”
“No, I will absolutely not run.”
“Why?!”
Arty looked at Aria and smiled.
“This fight is one I chose.”
He didn’t know about the Hero’s fate or the princess’s cause, but….
“At the very least, I will not abandon the people behind me and run.”
The swordsmanship his master had taught him. Attack and defense. There was no such thing as “running” among them.
The boy stood with empty hands and slowly assumed a sword-holding stance.
“…?!”
Aria swallowed her breath at the sight. That back view was more…
—Brilliant and heroic than when he had held the dazzling Holy Sword.
“…Hero… sir.”
A blue light sparkled from Arty’s body. It was not mana simply drawn by the Holy Sword. The will he had chosen was awakening true power.
Arty made his decision. With a clearer mind than ever before, he could hold the “sword.” He closed both eyes… and recalled.
—Recall the form of the famous sword with the blue blade. Its name is not ‘Danan.’ It is the boy’s will.
Wield your true will.
“…!”
Before he knew it, a sword had appeared in Arty’s hand. But the light was not the blue he had seen until now. It was clear and brilliant, like sunlight sparkling on a lake.
Arty murmured the word that had surfaced in his mind.
[Holy Sword, Manifest—!]
A dazzling light sparkled from the boy’s hand. He swung the sword of shining light. The path it traced was the swordsmanship he had learned alongside his master… an endless series of choices.
Arty chose. To protect the people.
SWOOSH—!
That light moved more freely than anything, cutting swiftly across the air. It was like the sun rising at a dark crossroads. The brilliant sunlight purified the flames of countless evil spirits.
That light was one that had reappeared in the world after five hundred years. It was the light of the true Holy Sword. Though it was only a very small part… it was more than enough to protect the people.
*
Lydia watched that light with satisfaction.
“….”
She had not been wrong. It was not the strength of someone satisfied with and swayed by the original story, but the power drawn from the boy’s own choices that was now shining.
The light that should have appeared only after countless hardships, the light of a distant future, was sparkling right now.
…For a first step, that’s not bad at all.
She smiled.
“Well done, Arty.”