Swish Splatter.
Lac von Grace saw it.
The blade slicing through the gate, the line drawn on Natida’s body standing beyond it. Lac watched as the blood vessel burst forth in the direction of that line… He saw it. He couldn’t help but see it.
Thud.
Natida’s priestess robe turned crimson.
With the surging blood, Natida’s body slowly collapsed forward. The red-stained clothes. The dripping blood. Natida, laying motionless.
In the elongated moment of time, what floated in Lac’s mind was the scenery of that day.
Countless warriors confronting death before him. The sight of his fallen brothers bleeding. The faces of those he couldn’t protect haunted Lac’s vision, just as it did then.
Not being able to protect. Blood flowing.
And at the end of it, the beast.
Lac’s head whipped around.
His bloodshot eyes glared at Barta, the King of Beasts, frozen in his stance with sword drawn. Those same sapphire blue eyes as before. Barta was also looking at Lac.
Their gazes crossed. They both recognized each other’s existence.
In that moment, something in Lac’s mind snapped with a thud, and the Holy Sword he grasped shook violently. The image of the trembling sword split into multiple forms, then merged back together repeatedly.
Barta, the King of Beasts.
Heat Rising.
Steam escaped from Lac’s lips.
He launched himself towards the target he had to kill, faster than ever before.
*
KAAAAAANG!
The moment Lac swung his sword and clashed with Barta’s, a tremendous sound echoed. The ground shook, and debris from the gorge bounced around, while Kalt gritted his teeth.
‘…Damn it.’
As Lac’s wild movements rampaged, Kalt swung his sword in tune with him. He filled the gaps in Lac’s defenses and twisted the trajectory of the attack from the King of Beasts, even slightly.
Clang, Clang, Clang!
Though he was managing to keep the fight going, Kalt knew he couldn’t last forever. He understood he couldn’t gain the upper hand like this.
He was being pushed back, continuously.
In power, in swordsmanship, in physical ability, he was losing in every way. Before him, he glimpsed fragments of the Death’s Blade from the King of Beasts.
‘…Every time he swings, the space creaks. The ground is torn apart, and the air is shaken.’
It wasn’t just a simple push with strength.
If it was just a beast he encountered in the traitor’s defense, he might have had a chance, but now, wielding a sword and unleashing techniques… he couldn’t fathom winning against that beast.
That wasn’t just a beast.
It was a superhuman who had broken through walls, a knight who acted after seeing into the future.
Kalt felt the future he foresaw a few seconds ahead shifting continuously. In this moment, the only thing he could trust was his instinct. But…
“……”
Kalt silently watched Lac.
Lac had grown, without a doubt.
The boy who had stood out since his student days… had now reached a complete trajectory. A true superhuman, with a steep growth curve.
‘Even now…’
The King of Beasts’ speed was increasing, yet Lac kept up. Acceleration through heating. Movement utilizing mana. The use of auxiliary arms to fill the gaps between swings. He was using everything he had to keep up.
The young man was growing. Rapidly.
Natural talent, intuition, uniqueness, growth speed.
Kalt measured Lac’s worth.
Kalt had lived on the battlefield for many long years. He knew well that not all human lives held equal value. There were times he had to choose.
Grip.
Kalt clenched the hilt of his sword.
With a wide field of vision, Kalt assessed the battlefield. The terrain, escape routes, possibilities, and… the fallen Natida. Natida’s breath hadn’t yet ceased.
Perhaps it was thanks to the gate acting as a barrier.
The impact of the strike had not fully reached Natida, standing behind the gate. It was a fatal wound, but Natida was a saint. Considering the special recovery ability of a saint, she could survive.
…What should he choose?
Clang, Clang!
As he swung his sword, Kalt pondered.
To save everyone without abandoning anyone.
Those who can do such things are called heroes. Kalt knew such a hero well. He had supported him for a long time. And that’s why Kalt also knew.
He couldn’t become such a hero.
Kalt was not an absolute powerhouse.
To save something, he had to sacrifice something.
‘What must be sacrificed? What must be chosen?’
Kalt weighed the value of lives. When he placed his own life and Lac’s life on the scale, it tipped toward Lac.
It was obvious.
Kalt was a Sword Master. Nothing special.
In contrast to a replaceable resource, Lac von Grace was irreplaceable. Holding the First Holy Sword and possessing a uniqueness, Lac was a force that could not be substituted.
Thus, if there was something to be discarded here…
‘Damn it.’
Kalt snickered.
He had made his decision.
2.
Lac felt his arm creak.
The fingers gripping the sword trembled. One finger was broken, and some muscles torn. With each clash of swords, part of his body was shredded or burst, blood flowing.
As accumulated injuries made Lac stagger.
At the moment Lac’s blade wavered.
The King of Beasts’ eyes glowed menacingly.
Barta bared his fangs at the showing prey. In a moment of acceleration, Barta’s sword swept Lac’s aside. KAAAAANG! went the sound as Lac’s sword was sent skyward.
What he saw was a gap.
Boom! Barta stomped the ground.
The earth shook violently, completely shattering Lac’s stance, and Barta’s fingers gripping the hilt made a crack sound. At that moment, Lac saw.
What he saw was the future moments away.
The Barta before him split into several forms. Just as those forms merged into one, a guillotine fell from the sky. His vision turned red.
The future he saw was death.
Lac twisted his body to escape death, but Barta’s sword followed, approaching him. He was prepared to sacrifice one of his arms.
But then, a silvery-white trajectory intersected the future.
KAAAAAAANG!
It was Kalt, stepping in front of Lac.
The moment he caught the massive blade, blood spilled from Kalt’s eyes, nose, and mouth. A handful surged out. The sounds of bones breaking and muscles tearing echoed.
“———!”
With a roar, Kalt twisted his sword.
He successfully deflected Barta’s strike. The blade aimed to rip apart Lac sank into the ground. Boom! With a sound, the earth shook, and a mound of rocks shot skyward.
Thus, a gap was created.
Yet Kalt did not choose to attack.
He reached back with one hand and gripped Lac by the nape. Turning back, Kalt grinned faintly.
“Run, Lac.”
He tossed Lac towards the direction where Natida lay. Lac’s eyes widened as he looked at Kalt. Immediately after throwing Lac, Kalt took a step toward Barta.
And Barta…
“Are you intervening in our duel?”
He narrowed his eyes, looking down at Kalt.
From the start, Barta’s gaze had only been on Lac. To Barta, the human before him was merely an obstacle. An obstacle he could remove at any moment.
“Get out of the way, obstacle.”
Barta swung his sword.
The unarmed human before him was easily dismissible with a single strike. Just as he was about to brush aside the obstacle and step towards his rival, suddenly…
Clang!
Barta’s sword trajectory twisted.
The twisted tip of the sword embedded itself not in the human before him but in the ground. At the moment the sword pierced the earth, Boom! something’s weight added on top of it.
Standing with his boot on Barta’s embedded sword, Kalt swung his own sword. The silvery-white arc scraped Barta’s shoulder.
Blood.
The cut was thin. Yet for the first time right after the fight, Barta bled. It was barely a drop or two of blood.
“……”
Barta turned back to Kalt wordlessly.
He gazed into the human’s eyes. The human he had thought was merely an obstacle. His sword touching him was not a feeling of displeasure for Barta.
Quite the opposite.
Barta felt intrigued. By the swordsman before him.
Kalt stepped back, and Barta slowly drew his sword up. He looked at the swordsman who had raised his sword against him.
“What is your name?”
The King of Beasts asked.
The human answered the king’s question.
“Kalt.”
Kalt lightly shook off his sword.
“I am a swordsman.”
Barta silently assumed his stance.
Kalt too assumed his. The two swordsmen looked into each other’s futures. Pursuing their future, Kalt exhaled deeply.
A brief silence.
It was Kalt who broke the silence first.
Kalt lunged at Barta. His movement was not fast. It wasn’t as fierce as Lac’s, nor was it overwhelming like Barta’s. Just humans’ speed. Humans’ movements.
Whoosh.
Late on, Barta’s movements overwhelmed Kalt. Kalt took one step further, not even following the flooding strikes of the sword with his eyes.
Clang!
The tip of Kalt’s sword pierced through the hole in Barta’s great sword. In that moment, as Kalt lowered his stance, he twisted his waist, arms, and sword while swinging.
He was followed by a thin silvery sword gleam changing the trajectory of the great sword.
The sword grazed not Kalt directly, but the distant wall of the canyon. With a scrunch, a section of the gorge cracked and began to plummet. Accompanied by thuds of bong, the ground shook.
Chirp, Barta opened his mouth.
From his opened mouth came laughter. Barta mulled over the strike Kalt had shown him moments earlier. What Kalt displayed was a precise prediction. An excessively precise strike from accurate foresight.
The direction the sword swung, the force applied to the sword, the trajectory that the sword described. The swordsman before him accurately calculated all of it and twisted only the arc.
That meant one thing.
The future this swordsman saw was better than Barta’s own.
He couldn’t comprehend how it was possible. In face of the unknown before him, Barta felt elation. And Kalt…
Thud.
Spitted out a mouthful of blood.
Kalt exhaled with a ragged breath. There was no way he could pull off such a feat without a cost. He felt about to collapse right then, but he gritted his teeth and glared ahead. The imminent death approached again.
The massive sword was drawing near.
Before the encroaching death, Kalt clenched his teeth.
3.
Run, Lac.
Kalt made a choice, and Lac understood what that choice meant. With Natida’s fallen body lifted onto his back, Lac turned to look back.
Crack, Lac gritted his teeth.
His feet wouldn’t move.
I want to join them. I want to help Kalt. I don’t want to let the person I’ve been indebted to since my student days die. But Lac knew he couldn’t do that.
There was no chance of winning.
Kalt’s decision was right.
Charging towards that place without any alternative would be trampling on Kalt’s resolve. It would lead to everyone’s death. Lac felt his back, soaked with the blood Natida had spilled. At the same time, Natida’s labored breathing echoed in his ears.
He carried more than just one life on his shoulder.
He was going to lose again.
Because he was weak, because he was powerless, he had to be robbed by that damned beast again. Blood flowed from his tightly pressed lips. It was right then Lac turned away from Kalt.
“Stop…”
He heard Natida’s voice in his ear.
A thin voice. A voice that seemed about to end at any moment. Lac turned his head and met Natida’s gaze. The usually dull eyes were no longer there.
He saw eyes glowing strangely.
They were not the eyes of an ordinary human. Not even the eyes of a superhuman who could foresee a few seconds into the future. They were the eyes of a god, foreseeing a far-off future. The gaze of divinity.
“Take me.”
The prophet whispered to the human.
“Take me to that place.”
Natida raised her arm.
The trembling fingertip pointed to the gigantic sword embedded at the heart of the gorge. The Death’s Blade, the symbol of Ganikalt.
“Hurry.”
The prophet pointed at death.
