Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Breaking the Hesitation
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I'm not here to talk. So there's no need to hold back.
The sword blazing with flames targeted Agnes's nape.
If she took the attack head-on, it would be fatal. But Damian had no intention of stopping midway.
Clang! Faced with that, Agnes had no choice but to draw her sword.
Unlike Damian's command to go all out, however, she didn't use aura.
Pure physical strength clashing head-on would leave Agnes at a disadvantage. Knowing this, she deliberately leaped back.
Whoosh. Even as the distance grew, Damian's assault didn't let up. Green flames scattered in all directions, pressing down on Agnes.
"Urgh!!"
She reinforced her body with aura, but it couldn't fully block the hellfire.
Burns appeared here and there on her exposed skin.
Tsk. Damian clicked his tongue. It was only natural her defense was sloppy when she still hadn't steeled her resolve.
"Didn't you hear me say to go all out?"
"I can't do that. I might hurt you, Lord Damian."
"You're talking like you'd win if we went at full strength."
"That's..."
Damian sneered mockingly. Seeing his expression twisted something deep in her chest.
She couldn't understand why Damian was acting this way.
Why was he blaming her like this?
A few days ago, she had acted impulsively, but it wasn't enough to warrant this treatment.
Before Agnes could voice her complaints, however, Damian's next attack came faster.
Boom. As Damian stomped the ground, a massive boulder surged toward Agnes.
If she didn't go all out, she herself would be in danger.
Whoosh. A translucent energy emanated from her body.
She knew the power of that technique well. Meeting it head-on would be suicide.
Scraaaape! Instead, Agnes scraped the side of the boulder with her sword to deflect it.
No matter how sturdy, the point opposite the attack direction was always a weakness.
'A bit more.'
She also read the boulder's flow with Sword Dance.
No matter how tough, nothing was impossible to cut.
The aura Agnes wielded made it possible.
Slash. Agnes's sword cleaved through the middle of the boulder—the weakest structural point revealed by Sword Dance.
"That's more like it."
Even though his attack was blocked, Damian smiled instead.
What was Damian trying to gain from this spar? Agnes still couldn't comprehend.
Before the halved boulder fully crumbled, Damian kicked off it and leaped high.
This time, no flames coated his blade. Because of that, Agnes could predict how the next attack would come.
Unity with the sword.
In all their previous spars, Agnes had never overcome that strike.
Moreover, Damian always pulled back at the last moment. She had tried to make it her own, but it always remained just out of reach.
'He's serious this time.'
Her lips suddenly went dry. Instinct told her Damian wouldn't hold back now.
Pure physical prowess alone couldn't withstand that strike. To survive, she truly had to go all out.
Swoosh. Damian's sword and Agnes's sword crossed.
Spurt! Spurt! Blood sprayed from each of their shoulders.
"Your Sword Dance is the most threatening in that regard."
Damian said, staring at Agnes.
Overwhelming insight and control over the sword. It applied not just to his own blade, but to the enemy's as well.
The Mountain Sage, Cadrel, and the Master of Memories—those were the ones Damian had cut down with unity of sword.
Their skills far surpassed Agnes's.
But they didn't truly understand the weapon called the sword. Thus, they couldn't respond properly.
Agnes was different.
Through countless spars with Damian, she had faced unity of sword innumerable times and embodied that experience through Sword Dance.
Even in her hesitation, her talent shone through.
"Here I go again."
"..."
The ambiguous fight—neither pure practice nor real combat—continued.
Swords clashed, black magic and aura pressuring each other.
Agnes still hesitated. She focused on deflecting rather than counterattacking.
Damian didn't let it slide. Whenever an opening appeared, unity of sword would engulf her.
That technique couldn't just be deflected. If she didn't counter, Agnes herself would suffer a fatal wound.
Spurt! Spurt!
Wounds accumulated on their bodies. This was the situation Agnes had always dreaded.
"Haa... Haa..."
Yet her body kept moving.
The thought of stopping this bizarre fight no longer lingered in her mind.
Life returned to her unfocused eyes, her breathing turning fervent.
Her sword swings grew smoother, her footwork lighter.
'More, more, more!'
The atmosphere was starting to feel familiar.
Like their daily spars.
And at some point.
"Oh...!"
"Urk!"
Clang! Both swords flew into the air simultaneously.
The impact threw off their balance. Agnes ended up straddling Damian.
"......"
"......"
A moment of silence. Only their ragged breaths mingled between them.
"...Why are you doing this?"
Agnes bit her lower lip. Something burned rising from within her.
"Why? I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing?"
"..."
Faced with Damian's retort, Agnes could only avert her gaze. She knew full well this was her acting spoiled.
Her heaven-and-earth blessed beauty felt more terrifying than anything today.
"How long are you going to mope around? Is that all your sword amounts to?"
Each of Damian's words stabbed like daggers into her heart.
"I didn't know you were such a pathetic woman. If I'd known, I would've broken off the engagement ages ago."
It wasn't empty talk. He was genuinely disappointed.
He knew the current Agnes was a different person from the one before her regression.
Damian had even contributed to that change.
But he hadn't expected her to fail to overcome something like this.
He'd thought giving her time alone would let her shake it off somehow, but apparently not.
A woman whose spirit would break here held no value to Damian. She'd only hinder his revenge.
So today, he had to see the true depths of Agnes Schubert.
"What... What do you think you know to talk like that? What do you even know about me!"
It hurt. It stung. It ached.
Her relationship with Damian had mended, and she'd harbored her own feelings despite the impropriety—that made the pain even worse.
"Losing my father to my brother, being used by the uncle who orchestrated it, and in the end, not even able to cut down that brother! What do you know about a weakling like me!"
She finally couldn't hold back and poured out her rage.
It was ridiculous. She had no reason to be angry at him.
Just like in the past.
Unable to deal with the true culprits right away, she vented on an innocent target.
Rage was easier to endure than despair and self-loathing.
The target was Damian, then and now.
Why did she only throw tantrums at him?
Agnes Schubert was more pathetic than she could admit even to herself.
"I don't. And I don't particularly want to know."
Yet Damian calmly faced the torrent of emotions.
Even pinned beneath her, his expression didn't waver.
"The Agnes Schubert I know was utterly devoted to the sword. Foolish, in a way. Admirable, too."
His eyes were calm like a winter night lake. In them, she saw herself, unable to contain her feelings.
"Is the sword just a tool to you? Worthless if it can't cut down that traitor?"
To Damian, black magic was largely a tool for revenge, but not solely that.
The process of learning and mastering it had been enjoyable in its own way.
For a bastard with no talent in magic or aura, it was a path to make his mark on the world.
To Agnes, the sword was more than that. A girl who loved the sword, and was loved by it in return.
To her, the sword held value as a purpose beyond mere means. Damian, who had shared it with her so often, was certain of this.
"That's..."
Just a tool? Agnes mulled over Damian's words.
No. It wasn't. Just moments ago, sharing the sword with him hadn't thrilled her?
Then why couldn't she rise again? What made her hesitate with the sword?
—Nice to meet you, Lady Agnes. I'm Ramsay.
He was small and young. His skin was dark, his hair unkempt and frizzy.
But his eyes were clear. They resembled her own and their father's.
—Call me sis.
—How could a bastard like me...
—Father said to treat you as an equal. That makes us siblings, right?
A bastard was an impure existence. How could they let such a thing live in the main house? It might corrupt Lady Agnes.
The Schubert retainers grumbled various objections, but Agnes at the time paid them no mind.
She was just happy to have one more family member.
—Here, hold the sword like this. Try again.
—Yes, sis.
Training with swords together, playing pranks, laughing and chatting. To Agnes, feeling her mother's absence, Ramsay was a tremendous gift.
—Ramsay? Why are you...
That happiness didn't last years.
Ramsay, with his strangely twisted body, killed their father. Behind it was Uncle Ballac.
She had to avenge him. Realize justice. All that was left to her was the sword.
Separate from venting ugly emotions on Damian, she threw herself into the sword even more than before.
And eventually faced Ramsay again.
—Long time no see, sis.
His body was twisted, but his face and voice hadn't changed much from the last time. That made it harder to bear.
She drew her sword and charged immediately.
—You still remember that game. I'm glad.
She had to cut him down, believed she could.
But even when opportunities to strike arose, the tip of Agnes's sword couldn't shake its hesitation.
—Ahaha. I remember the first time you cut me. You cried more than I did, sis.
Hearing that voice brought past memories flooding back—the warmest moments of Agnes's life.
—Try harder. Keep hesitating, and you'll die.
Like Father.
Even after those words, she still hesitated.
So she had to admit it. Agnes Schubert could not cut down Ramsay.
That realization made holding the sword terrifying.
If she kept training, she'd face Ramsay again, and make the same choice.
'But.'
As Damian said, the sword was more than a means to Agnes.
This spar proved it.
She wanted to end it, yet also to enjoy it more—both feelings coexisted.
She had to accept she couldn't cut Ramsay.
But also that Agnes herself couldn't let go of the sword.
"Your eyes have more fire now than before. Not bad."
"Thank you."
Agnes collapsed into Damian's arms.
He felt a tremor in the hand clutching his collar. She was quietly sobbing.
—If a woman nearby is crying, pull her into your shoulder. Don't say a word!
It was Anna's advice.
She couldn't recall if it was before or after her regression. Either way, it was what Damian needed to do now.
"If it's too hard, I can do it for you."
"What do you..."
"I can be your sword."
"B-But I can't burden you with that, Lord Damian."
"Then you be my sword in return. That's a fair trade."
"......"
"It's too soon for an answer. But don't let go of your sword—keep walking. That way, there'll be another chance."
Damian slowly rose, Agnes still in his arms.
"However..."
Agnes leaned her weight against him. A faint, motherly scent like Marian's wafted from her skin.
"You told me to go all out, but you weren't, Lord Damian."
She pouted her lips as she spoke.
She had no choice.
He couldn't use the Book of Hell against Agnes.
To see her depths, they had to cross swords, and other black magics didn't suit this kind of fight.
"Next time, really go all out."
"You're cracking jokes now—looks like you're really okay."
"Yes, thanks to you, Lord Damian. My head's clearer now."
Wasn't it time to separate? But Agnes still clung to his collar.
"Um..."
Her upturned face was flushed. Her eyes were still moist, but the emotion differed from her sobs.
"N-Never mind."
As those words ended and Agnes pulled away.
[Arghhh! How can you end it here!]
"Arghhh! How can you end it here!"
Suddenly, Gremory's and Anya's voices overlapped.
Turning his head—not just Anya, but others were there too.
"I still can't understand kids' romance these days."
Ezekiel shook his head.
"Everyone has their own youthful charm."
Ariella with a hand on her cheek.
"I-I didn't really want to come here..."
And trembling Dylan too.
Too focused on the duel, he hadn't noticed them at all.
"If you have someone you can truly trust, even tough problems become easy."
Ariella approached and cast a healing spell.
The wounds weren't shallow. But with Ariella's magic, no need to visit the infirmary.
"So, what's the plan going forward?"
Ezekiel asked. About Ramsay, still holed up in the sewers.
"Catch him first, think later."
"You have a way?"
"We've cornered the rabbit."
Damian shrugged. His usual relaxed expression.
"Now we set the trap."