Chapter 312: The Tin Knight and the Meaning of the Sacred Treasure (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 312: The Tin Knight and the Meaning of the Sacred Treasure (4)
KRAAANG!
SHASHASHASHANG!
The Tin Knight and the White Knight.
Their battle, as before, was nothing short of spectacular.
Sword and spear clashed ceaselessly, mana-infused strikes threatened to tear space asunder, and the roles of attacker and defender shifted in a constant, dizzying exchange.
The White Knight initiated a power struggle with its characteristic, overwhelming output, while the Tin Knight parried with its unique combat finesse.
At a glance, the situation didn't seem much different from their battle in the world inside the library.
However, there was one crucial difference.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ expresses confidence, declaring that it won't be running out of fuel this time!]
A remote mana supply.
That’s right.
The supply function, which had been a unique feature of the White Knight last time, was now also possessed by the Tin Knight.
Of course, comparing the White Knight—a state-of-the-art, over-spec model built without any consideration for cost—to the Tin Knight—originally an antique of antiques that had been painstakingly upgraded through several modifications—it was true that the White Knight was still superior.
This held true for its base output, its enhanced output, and even the speed and volume of its remotely supplied mana.
But it didn't matter.
Unlike before, when it had to run back to Dorothea for every resupply, its mana now replenished continuously, albeit slowly, even during combat. The fundamental conditions of the fight were completely different.
This was especially true for the Tin Knight, whose mana manipulation had reached a transcendent level.
Shwip!
The White Knight thrust its spear with ferocious momentum.
The Tin Knight used its shield to deflect the overwhelming attack, one that had literally pulverized a castle before.
If the White Knight used 100 mana for its attack, the Tin Knight consumed less than 10 to counter it.
This was made possible by a technique so meticulous it was almost obsessive: skillfully deflecting the point of impact, perfectly controlling the flow of force, and circulating mana sequentially to the exact point where the spear and shield met, rather than coating the entire shield.
Previously, the Tin Knight would have conserved mana by not even using that full 10, taking the brunt of the impact with its body, but now, it had no need to do so.
And this surplus of mana wasn't just useful for defense.
Screech!
A sword mark was carved into the White Knight's left arm, from wrist to elbow.
It was a minor injury, merely scraping the surface, but considering the White Knight was a being that could take a direct hit from a siege catapult without a scratch, it was an astonishing wound.
But as if to say this was only the beginning, the Tin Knight continued its assault.
Deflect, slash, parry, slash, dodge, slash.
People tend to think of shields as purely defensive tools, but in truth, a shield was a very aggressive piece of equipment.
This was partly because the shield itself could serve as an excellent blunt weapon, but more importantly, the act of blocking an attack with a shield guaranteed a bolder and more ferocious opportunity to counterattack.
The White Knight's attacks failed to land a significant blow on the Tin Knight, but the Tin Knight's attacks were slowly but surely finding their mark on the White Knight.
It was the reverse of what had happened in the world inside the library, where the Tin Knight had tenaciously endured the White Knight's onslaught while taking hit after hit.
Merely having a slightly easier mana supply had created such a drastic difference.
Despite the disadvantageous situation, the White Knight neither panicked nor despaired.
It endured the Tin Knight's chilling counterattacks with its characteristic durability, and without faltering even when its own attacks proved futile, it unleashed the next, continuing to fight.
Some might have considered it the mechanical action of an emotionless doll, but the Tin Knight, who was crossing swords with it, knew better.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ expresses its satisfaction, declaring that a rival who grows is the best kind of rival!]
The White Knight wasn't just mechanically carrying out a predetermined mission.
Its spear grew sharper with every thrust, its movements became swifter with every step, and its eyes, though calm, burned fiercely with a fighting spirit directed at the Tin Knight.
As if it were analyzing the Tin Knight's techniques, making them its own, and vowing to one day surpass them.
The Tin Knight couldn't help but be pleased. What a worthy opponent to strike down.
The battle between the two magic dolls, representatives of their eras, thus grew ever more heated.
*
“Hahahahaha! Excellent! Wonderful! My blood is boiling!”
If the fight between the Tin Knight and the White Knight was an intricate waltz of fierce attacks and precise counters, the one unfolding between Alonso and Adelaide was more like a heroic tale of a knight battling a mythical beast.
Alonso's main weapon was, surprisingly, a lance.
Not a thin, slender type, but an ambiguous object—was it a spear or a club?—with a conical base boasting a 30-centimeter radius.
It was a colossal weapon that would seem difficult enough just to tuck under one's arm in a couched lance position on horseback, yet Alonso wielded it skillfully while on foot.
His charge, substituting a horse's momentum with the power of his own two legs and a horse's weight with his heavy armor, possessed truly overwhelming destructive force. Yet Adelaide's response was almost simplistic.
She simply lowered her stance, let her two-handed sword hang low, and swung it with all her might as if to intercept the tip of the lance.
Normally, this would be an act so reckless it wouldn't be strange to say she had a death wish.
It was like trying to stop a speeding carriage with a single stick.
KWAAAAANG!
However, the one sent flying was the "carriage"—Alonso.
A tall, giant of a man in heavy armor had charged with his lance, only to be sent flying by a lightly dressed girl standing her ground. An absurd sight!
As cries of astonishment rose from the surroundings, Adelaide, wreathed in violet sparks, charged without hesitation toward the off-balance Alonso.
The sword strike she swung at Alonso's torso was merciless.
It was an action that seemed to completely disregard the fact that her opponent was the king of a nation, or that this was a duel, not a fight to the death.
This was partly because it was the way the Tin Knight had taught her to fight, but it was also a sign of trust in her opponent.
The foolish king absorbed in his knightly games.
It was a trust that if this was the monarch her father had deemed worthy of his loyalty, he could surely handle an attack of this level.
And the foolish king gladly returned the sentiment.
Thwack!
Just before Adelaide's sword came crashing down, Alonso's palm quickly slapped the ground.
He rolled sideways to dodge the attack, and an instant later, Adelaide's sword struck the ground.
THWACK-KRAAANG!
A massive crater formed in the ground.
It was a crater large and deep enough to bury a person whole.
Normally, one would be terrified or stunned by such power, but Alonso, still in his rolling posture, instead kicked out at Adelaide's ankle.
Adelaide's legs held firm against the impact, planted solidly on the ground, but Alonso, as if to use even that to his advantage, hooked his instep around her ankle and bent his knee sharply.
With Alonso's entire body weight focused on one ankle, Adelaide's body finally staggered.
It was a natural outcome, as her body weight, separate from her strength, was not that high.
What followed was so skillful that even the onlookers had trouble comprehending it.
Alonso, who had been rolling on the ground in an unstable posture, had somehow gotten to his feet, while Adelaide was the one forced to her knees.
Alonso swung his gauntlet to strike her down, but Adelaide, from a low position less than ten centimeters off the ground, spun her body and blocked the gauntlet with the sole of her shoe.
Then, with one hand still on the ground, she spun like a top and kicked Alonso with her other leg.
Alonso seemed to be helplessly sent flying by the blow to his chest, but his breastplate wasn't significantly dented.
Proof that Alonso himself had already leaped backward before taking the hit. The lance, once again in his hand, attested to this.
Adelaide thought.
'He's not on Sir Knight's level... but his technique is outstanding.'
Putting aside the Tin Knight, who was in a league of his own, the martial artist who had left the strongest impression of being a technical fighter on Adelaide was Hilda von Lennart.
However, while Hilda's swordsmanship was that of a sensory fighter, swung purely according to her own intuition and instinct, Alonso's martial arts were closer to the orthodox style.
It was hard to see, obscured by the bizarre feat of charging with a lance on foot, but Adelaide's keen senses saw through it all.
How to manage distance, the placement of his feet, the control of his breath, how to cover the gaps between attacks.
None of these were instinctive actions left to talent; they were techniques born from martial arts that had been thoroughly drilled into his body.
And not the flashy martial arts nobles learned for self-defense, but a thoroughly practical, combat-oriented style.
Adelaide's eyes grew calm.
'Father told me. The swordsmanship and martial arts of Ionia are specialized for hunting magic beasts rather than fighting people.'
The techniques for fighting beings stronger, faster, and tougher than humans were ingrained in every part of Alonso's body.
That must be how he could fight on equal footing with the White Knight, which boasted such absurd specs. And the same would apply when facing Adelaide.
'Usually, it's the monster's role to threaten the knight with overwhelming physical ability. In that case, does that make me the monster in this heroic tale? ...No, considering the original owner of the belt, maybe a giant?'
At the sudden thought, Adelaide let out a small laugh.
A giant smaller in both height and build than the knight—it was the very definition of irony.
Unsure how to interpret her laugh, Alonso spoke.
“Hoh, would you care to tell me what you find so amusing?”
Adelaide replied.
“It's nothing much. I was just…”
As she spoke, she casually dug the tip of her two-handed sword into the ground.
“─thinking of a giant who used to create sandstorms with its body.”
And with all her might, she tore up the ground before her.
Faced with the sight of the very earth itself trying to bury him, leaving no room for evasion, even the great Alonso's face hardened for a moment.