A Legend's Final Stand
Accepted. One hour before the princess arrived at the lodging. At a location two hours away from the capital where the academy stood.
— "Linnet. If it looks dangerous, run without hesitation. I don't want to lose you."
The maid dispatched by the blue-eyed man. As Linnet headed toward the academy, she found herself murmuring her master's words without thinking.
"Master. What should I do in a situation like this?"
"Heh. The world truly has gone to ruin."
It was a coincidence that defied any notion of bad luck. While traveling along an empty road leading into the capital, she encountered the former Knight Commander, Walter Abrams—the second strongest being in the kingdom, the very man she had been ordered never to meet.
"How in the world is something like you walking among humans?"
"It's on my master's orders. Can't you just pretend you didn't see me and move along?"
"Your master… To think someone would raise a monster like you. While I'm still breathing, I'd very much like to separate that head from its shoulders."
"Old man. Watch your tongue. You might die saying things like that."
The expressionless maid slipped her hands beneath her short skirt and drew out the pair of daggers strapped to her thighs.
"Had I watched my tongue, your kind would never have feasted on humans."
"My master said it himself. Eating because you're hungry isn't a sin."
"Sophistry. You can eat fruit and beasts, yet you choose humans out of mere preference."
"Humans eat other living things out of preference too. Don't be so stingy about it."
The old man stroked his snow-white beard, then drew his sword from the staff he had been leaning on—without a sound. A faint blue haze rose along the blade that had accompanied him through countless years. Magang. The mark of a 2nd class knight, the pinnacle of martial prowess that only those who had reached the extreme of mastery could wield. Even without being a mage or an enchanter, coating an object with mana allowed it to slice through steel as though it were paper. In someone's previous life, it had also been called a [Skill].
"I shall return you to the place where your kind belongs."
"A knight wielding Magang at nearly eighty years old… My master's bad predictions really never miss."
The maid's black eyes flooded with the color of blood. Unlike Carix's ruby-red eyes from birth, hers were pools formed from the blood of living creatures.
"Those eyes…? You can't possibly be—!"
"Don't feel too wronged. I heard you're almost eighty. For a human, that's already a long life."
Beneath the twilight sky staining red, the maid delivered her verdict with a blank face and melted into the world. At the same moment, the old knight swung his final sword without looking back.
—Crack.
The sky, still bright before nightfall, shattered, unable to contain the clash of two monsters.
*****
"Sir Jena…"
Leng's worried voice drifted through the air.
"……"
Before the white cloth covering the corpse, now slowly soaking red, the bronze-skinned female knight stood without blinking, without shedding a single tear. She looked like a canvas drenched in the color of despair.
"Leng."
"Yes."
"Stay by her side."
"………Thank you."
Exactly three hours earlier, the sky in this region had collapsed, and an enormous clash of mana had shaken heaven and earth. No survivors remained nearby. Fortunately, only five people had died caught in the battle—but one of them had been one of Valcart Kingdom's greatest powers. No amount of words could make that fortunate.
"Hic, ugh…"
"Did Your Highness know him as well?"
"Ah, no… I've never even met him…"
She had come with the princess who had summoned me. Since I was, laughably, the strongest escort she knew besides the king himself, she had rushed over with tears in her eyes and personally requested my help. And when I moved, the Valenitia Ducal Knights stationed in the capital naturally moved with me. The Royal Knights and the Ducal Knights—the strongest knight order in the kingdom and the duke's order joining forces meant the princess could personally visit the scene. That had been the calculation.
"But… Jena… hic! Jena is so pitiful…"
"……"
"…Is there no way to find out? Who on earth… hic! Who did this to Jena's master…!!"
The moment we arrived by carriage, I covered the princess's eyes. The old man's corpse lay with his head and limbs burst open like fireworks. If the princess had seen it, she wouldn't have been crying—she would have been vomiting up her dinner.
"It must have been a monster."
"Ugh!! Of course it was!! Anyone capable of defeating a 2nd class knight would have monstrous skill…!!!"
"No. That's not what I meant."
"Then what do you…!?"
The emotionally shouting Princess Lilith swallowed her words. In the darkness that had settled over the scene, my impassive red eyes moved ceaselessly, taking in every trace of the battlefield. It was as though the battle that had taken place here was being replayed inside them.
Before long, Carix was certain. The old man reduced to fireworks had not been weak, and his opponent had suffered considerable wounds. However—
"Why was the opponent here in the first place?"
"Pardon?"
"Look at the traces on this side and the bloodstains on that side."
I judged that to steady the princess's mind as she grieved the misfortune that had befallen her knight, I first needed to deliver calm yet certain information. Grieving right now was the family's duty. Though we were present, as those in positions of authority, we needed to examine the situation with greater composure—for Jena's sake, who had lost her master.
"……"
"Some of it splashed outward, but if you look closely, you can tell. This impossible amount of blood wouldn't come out unless at least three people were killed."
"The enemy… was multiple?"
"No. There was only one. Look at the bombardment traces continuing behind this… the slash marks."
The devastation that had overturned the surroundings had all been created by the old man's slashes. It truly made one realize how absurd fantasy could be. The traces were so outrageous that I could understand why "Abrams" was in the old man's name.
"If the opponent had been multiple, the slashes should have scattered in various directions no matter what. But seven slashes of the same power struck the exact same spot. That's why this valley-like formation was created."
"You're saying the opponent took that many hits from a 2nd class knight's sword and survived?"
"That's exactly what's strange. Judging by the amount of blood that splattered from direct hits, the opponent died at least three times right here."
Yet the result was the corpse of a 2nd class knight turned into fireworks. Unless the opponent had been multiple and, in a sudden display of service spirit and respect for the elderly, three of them had lined up to die together in a 2+1 promotion, the traces made no sense whatsoever.
"……"
"Please follow me for a moment."
"…Yes."
Leaving Jena, who had lost her mind before her master's death, in Leng's care, I led the princess by the hand with the Royal and Ducal Knights as escort. If we were to empathize with a vassal's pain and plan revenge together, the princess herself needed to understand the enemy better than I did.
"It's the same here. Sir Walter's sword clearly struck the opponent multiple times. There are several similar traces around here besides this one."
"Even so…… does that mean the enemy wasn't multiple?"
"A 2nd class knight stands at the extreme of mastery, just before transcendence. Even if he was an old man nearing eighty, he was strong enough to face at least five 3rd class knights alone. Let's suppose ten skilled 3rd class knights were prepared to kill such a person."
"Suppose all of them sacrificed themselves to kill the 2nd class knight. Would the traces of fatal wounds left here mean that someone recovered all the corpses and left without a single trace of escape? That would require at least the same number of powerful individuals waiting in the rear—strong enough not to die when this battlefield unfolded."
Lilith's eyes widened in shock. It made no sense that the royal family would know nothing if such forces had gathered this close to the capital.
"If that many had moved, the royal castle wouldn't be safe right now. Or did Sir Walter live with enough grudges to warrant a force capable of overthrowing the castle?"
"……That's not it. He was known as a kind and upright knight who upheld loyalty and righteousness even among the old nobility. That's why… I was looking forward to meeting him too."
"Then there's only one conclusion."
An opponent who could take multiple attacks imbued with a 2nd class knight's power and still not die. A literal monster.
"Young Duke. Please tell me. Who on earth… who did this? You… noticed something, didn't you?"
"……Haa."
My head hurt. Not from overthinking, but phantom pain from sheer irritation at the situation itself. There had been no scene like this in the game. If so, I couldn't rule out the possibility that it was a butterfly effect caused by my actions. But did it make sense that my butterfly effect had drawn them all the way here?
"Mazok who occasionally control the monsters found at the Monster Front. Especially among those called nobles among their kind, I once read in a book that there are monsters with multiple lives."
"!"
It was actually knowledge from my previous life's game, but it would be written in some book in this world. Anyway, if my actions were the start of the butterfly effect, then even if the probability was low, it included the possibility that among the bastards who killed my brother, there was a madman colluding with the Mazok… even the possibility that the bastard with blue eyes could be a Mazok.
It would have been strange if my head hadn't hurt.
*****
With the sudden death of the former Knight Commander and 2nd class knight, the kingdom fell into mourning.
"Walter Abrams was a knight who understood honor and loyalty. The royal knights he trained continue to protect and devote themselves to the kingdom even now, carrying on his chivalry…"
Under the king's leadership, his death was given a state funeral. The Archbishop, the highest-ranking priest of the kingdom's church, personally appeared before the people to praise him. The academy even closed, and all citizens and nobles expressed their condolences. Even the Empire sent their heartfelt sympathies regarding the incident. Just as the princess had said, he must have been quite an extraordinary knight.
"Sir Jena. I didn't kill him."
"……"
Meanwhile, I was gathering information on the bastards who had killed my brother as usual. I hadn't shed a single tear over my brother's death either. I had no leisure to empathize with and mourn the death of an old man I didn't even know.
In the midst of this, Jena came to the lodging alone, without the princess.
"If you have complaints, draw your sword instead. I've already endured this for two days. How long do you intend to glare at me like this?"
I had heard. Jena, who had lost her mind after losing the master who was like a parent to her, had been judged by the Royal Knights as unfit to guard the princess and was currently on a temporary leave—not a vacation, but a suspension.
Yet if it was leave, she should have been following the procession honoring her master or standing guard before the coffin. Instead, for the past two days, she had been coming to my lodging, glaring only at me, then leaving. And now, even I could no longer tolerate the bereaved's tantrum.
"I heard from… Her Highness."
"The possibility that the culprit is a Mazok. Seventy-eight percent probability. It might seem high, but it's not certain."
"In your opinion, Young Duke… if I continue training as I am now, when do you think I could win?"
"About twenty-five years. And even then, without some heaven-sent opportunity for explosive talent to bloom… that twenty-five-year mark is when Sir Jena would begin to age."
"……You spoke at length, but you're saying it's impossible."
Yes. Given Jena's current growth rate, even if she grew without aging, she might not reach it. If she could keep getting stronger without aging until a hundred, there might be a chance—but there was no reason humans could do something like that.
"Please… help me……"
Yet she couldn't bear not taking revenge. That was what humans, those beasts, were like. Knowing what Jena would say, I quietly closed my eyes and answered in the calmest voice I could muster.
"Based on the traces from that day, I tried simulating… image training a fight between that enemy and myself."
"……"
"I died a hundred times out of a hundred fights. Because I don't know how to kill an enemy that doesn't die."
More precisely, I was confident I could kill the opponent a hundred times. The problem was what came after. Whether there would be a hundred-and-first time. Whether killing them would even end it. Not knowing that, my stamina would run out first in the end.
"Raising Sir Jena to a higher level than now isn't difficult, honestly. I could do exactly what I did for Leng."
"Then…!!"
"The words 'at least do that for me' don't work. If the possibility of defeating that bastard increases even by 0.1 percent once you've grown stronger, then yes, I'd gladly help. I'm a avenger myself. I have no intention of spouting nonsense about how revenge is bad for others."
"Furthermore, since it's Sir Jena's revenge and not some stranger's, I can help as much as I want without getting too deeply involved. But it won't work. Even if you grow stronger through the recovery and physical modification I gave Leng… it would only be multiplying zero by zero."
"Ugh…!!!"
Seeing the female knight finally shed tears of frustration for the first time after hearing my words, I felt pity. Honestly, Jena wouldn't see the same dramatic effects as Leng. I would need to touch her muscles and skin directly to be sure, but even with the naked eye, it was clear her body wasn't in the same brutally overworked, ignorant state as Leng's.
In other words, a sudden rise in level that would break through 2nd class into 1st class transcendence wouldn't happen. At best, she might crack the wall of 3rd class that currently blocked her. So I couldn't help Jena yet. If she grew stronger only ambiguously, the future where she too returned as a corpse was all too easy to predict.
"I'm sorry."
"Hic, uwaa… aaah…!!"
At the reflexive apology, Jena collapsed and began wailing. I could say nothing. And Leng, watching this… couldn't even pat her shoulder despite looking like she might cry herself.
*****
"Young Master."
"Stop it."
"Please train me."
"Are you deaf? If training you would let you catch that monster, I would've done it already."
"Still… I can't just stay still like this."
Even so, as his potential lover, she probably wanted to do something. But what couldn't be done, couldn't be done.
"Leng. You're making a very big mistake."
"Are you going to say it again?"
"Yes. You didn't know, but the training where you get beaten by me every day is already a training regimen tailored exactly to your limits. It's not that your talent and sense reach the heavens and you're getting stronger every day. It's just that because of me, this opportunity, you're getting stronger by luck."
"……"
Reality wasn't a game. You couldn't get stronger with a single click.
"If you keep training like this, you'll at least reach 3rd class mastery within two years. If you're lucky, you might even glimpse the wall of 2nd class. I'm telling you this because I've finally started handling mana and understand a bit of the wall you all feel, but unless you're someone who can turn physical movement into brain work like me, that wall isn't something easily broken."
Even as I pioneered the new genre of magic, I had already felt blocked by walls multiple times. How many times would those less talented than me collapse before that wall?
"An unreachable glass ceiling. The boundary of extremes. Physical limits. The expansion of perception and reason. A heavenly threshold that ordinary humans can never cross. That's the true nature of the wall you all feel. Do you think you can overcome something like that just by getting hit a bit more and increasing your training count?"
"……But Young Master is crossing it."
"Crossing what? Honestly, after seeing the battlefield where the 2nd class knight and that monster fought, do you know what I thought about the most?"
After putting down the 3kg dumbbells among the fifty that the marquis had requested through [Decision] magic—each increasing in weight by exactly 1kg units—I laughed self-deprecatingly.
"It's bullshit. The reality where beings that cause physical errors exist and walk around openly. The fact that I can't keep up with it."
Fantasy. A world where a single human could arbitrarily change their maximum output. I hadn't seen Sir Walter's sword directly, but there were things I could understand from the scene he had created.
"If Sir Walter and I had fought, I would win hundreds of times but lose once for certain. The landscape created by that old 2nd class knight is proof that such an existence would definitely create that one time. Even with an overwhelming difference in skill, it means I'm the one being pressed for time."
Yet that old knight had fought the enemy even as his entire body turned into fireworks—and died. If I assumed that old man charged at me with the same resolve…
'Even calculating minimal damage, one arm would disappear.'
A single attack… no, a bombardment that couldn't be stopped even by death. A man who had refined fantasy into reality for eighty years, and me, who had finally begun to set one foot in it. If I hadn't personally seen this incident's scene, it would have later become the biggest reason for taking my life.
"So Leng. Don't think about overdoing it just because you feel sorry for your lady. I'm saying don't make me have to massage some male bastard's body again after fixing you up only for you to break."
"Lady?! I-I'm not in that kind of relationship with Sir Jena…!!"
"And while she's vulnerable like now, go properly comfort her without wavering. Since you were in that room too, Sir Jena cried like that, but honestly, letting her cry like that in front of me—a man who's not you—is that really the right thing to do?"
"……"
The information from my previous life—that a woman's tears should be shed comfortably in front of a man she has in mind—only made me feel unnecessary emotions. Honestly, even if Sir Jena cried like that in front of me, what was I supposed to do?
"If you understand, get out."
"Pardon?"
"You're on leave after being suspended, yet you're still standing guard at the academy's women's dormitory security office. …Wait. Why am I the one finding this information and telling it to her escort knight? Get out right now!?"
"Y-Young Master!? Wait!! If that hits you, you'll die… ack?!"
After Leng finally left for Jena's side—only after being hit in the abdomen by the dumbbell I threw—I wiped my sweat and stepped out of the academy alone. Even now, many people were mourning the 2nd class knight's death, but my purpose wasn't to join their procession.
"It's taking quite a while. Even though I paid in advance, isn't this too late?"
"……Since when did you know?"
"Since the day I was born into this world."
The assassin guild Silver Fangs. Their leader had finally made contact.