Ding!
The ringing of the sword echoed.
The moment Death drew the sword, the sound of the blade was low and chilling. Though the ring resonated for just a moment, its echo engulfed the canyon, carried by sword upon sword.
Gwwwww.
Dozens, hundreds of swords stuck in the Grave of the Sword.
Before the Death, who had unveiled itself here, the ruler of this canyon, the swords without masters trembled loudly, kneeling in submission. Some of them couldn’t withstand the echo and broke.
The ringing returned as a scream.
Amid the quivering sword grips, Death raised the sword. The blade pointed at a beast that had stepped into its domain. As Death indicated the beast with the sword’s tip, it gripped the hilt with its right hand. Once belonging to the beast.
“I ask.”
Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.
The proud knight threw down the question.
“Are you a beast?”
Or, if not that…
“Do you still wish to be a knight?”
Death recognized the beast.
The knight who had once challenged itself. After centuries had passed, Death questioned his long-time rival again. Are you still the same knight you were back then?
“I am.”
And the beast replied.
“I am, Barta.”
The King of Beasts, Barta answered Death’s question.
The King of Beasts, Barta raised his sword. With his left hand, he pointed the sword’s tip toward Death.
“I yearn for the rematch of that day.”
The sequel to that day.
I wish to see what comes after what I couldn’t see on that day.
Barta provided his answer.
“Is that so.”
Death threw the sword into the sky.
Whoosh, as the sword twirled once in the air and fell, Ganikalt reached out toward it. The extension was that of a human arm. Ganikalt grasped the hilt with his left hand.
“Then, you are a knight.”
With the sword gripped in his left hand, Ganikalt readied his stance.
Honoring his rival, who reappeared before him after centuries.
“Ah, ahhhhhh!”
Barta laughed widely with his mouth agape, joyfully adopting exactly the same stance as the knight before him. In this moment, Barta recalled the past. He mulled over his final moment facing death.
So much had changed since that day.
Even the proud knight’s appearance had changed, but…
‘That doesn’t matter at all.’
Really, it doesn’t. The author is still a knight, and he too wishes to remain a knight. Many things have changed, but that hasn’t. That was enough. No more conversation was necessary.
A knight is one who speaks with their sword.
What lies upon the blade is conviction.
The trajectory drawn by the blade signifies the path they have walked.
Thus, the path charted with the sword… the path of the sword ultimately signifies the knight’s life.
If one proclaims themselves a knight, what must be seen is the path of the sword, and what must be shown is just a single sword. Barta’s pupils flickered fiercely. Ganikalt’s eyes cooled.
At that exact moment, both knights stepped forward. Boom, the ground vibrated. Beyond the trembling earth, two swords traced the exact same line. The strike was impossibly fast, almost untraceable by the eye.
Galatrick Style, 1st Form Initial Killing Strike.
A flash of light in an instant.
Swish.
A cutting sound resounded.
The noise echoed first, followed by the resulting phenomenon.
The canyon’s walls, the bouncing stones, the rising dust, the countless swords driven into the Grave of the Sword, the debris, the traces of death, everything, everything in sight split apart.
Cha-a-a-a-a-a-ck!
As blades collided, Barta lunged forward, pushing off the ground. Ganikalt stepped decisively ahead. A clash of swords erupted, the energy scattering in all directions. Cutting through the flying energy, Barta swung his sword. Ganikalt also swung his sword.
Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.
Barta, the King of Beasts.
A rematch that had come to fruition after centuries.
The moment the two swords (劍) and their paths clashed, a thunderous sound shook the canyon.
2.
The torn space revealed the Death’s Blade.
Even in the bewildering situation, Lac moved his body. Supporting the fallen Kalt, he began to rush towards Natida.
Clang, ka-aaaang!
The sounds of clashing swords echoed in his ears. Lac had to strain all his nerves to avoid being caught up in that fight. Every time the swords clashed, the energy burst forth. The canyon crumbled, and fallen stones shook the ground.
“…Ugh!”
As the slicing energy threatened to cut his skin, Lac finally reached the fallen Natida. Right in front of Natida was a space that had torn open, serving as a shield to protect her.
Beyond the torn space lay a vast meadow.
Lac recognized that meadow.
Having received information about Alkeia, where the traitor resided, he remembered the stories he had heard. The place where the Death’s Blade resided. A vast expanse of black fields.
The place where Death remains silent, Gehete.
The fields visible beyond the space. The sky of those fields was violently torn apart, as if sliced by a sword. Glancing at that scenery, Lac hoisted the fallen Natida onto his back. He needed to escape this place quickly.
Ka-a-a-a-a-a-ang!
A thunderous roar echoed.
Turning his back to the canyon and distancing himself, Lac glanced back. There, an unwritten duel in history continued. Two knights, each having reached the highest realm, swung their swords towards each other.
Every swing tore the space apart.
With each clash, all visible things turned upside down. Boulders that shot up into the sky were driven into the walls by the strikes, while debris that had fallen suddenly soared back up.
…When he first faced the Death’s Blade.
Lac had not understood the sword wielded by Ganikalt, nor that wielded by Kyle in opposition. But this was not that time. Lac widened his eyes.
He could see it. The swords they wielded (劍).
He could see the paths of the sword (劍路) they created.
Perhaps it wasn’t solely because he had become superhuman. It was because they wielded the same sword. Using the same swordsmanship allowed him to see it. And this was the same for Kalt as well. Covered in blood, Kalt, with his vision tinted crimson, saw the same scenery as Lac.
A being who had arrived at the destination a knight aims for.
The skills exhibited by that existence were a realization just from watching, more excellent than anything else as a teacher. As he drifted away from the fight, Lac did not take his eyes off it. He wanted to see as much as he could.
For someday, he would need to stand there.
And at the moment Lac stepped into the entrance of the Kirmelt Canyon, just as he was about to exit, Ganikalt raised the sword to the sky.
“…Ah.”
Lac sighed.
With wide eyes, Lac quickly changed his stance. Facing ahead, he sprinted with all his might, desperately trying to distance himself from that place. His intuition warned him.
And that intuition was correct.
Lac heard it.
The calm slice resonating behind him. The monstrous sound of swords clashing. And the sound of something splitting apart.
Swish.
The slicing sound echoed first, followed by the impact. A fierce wind erupted from behind. Pushed outward by the wind swirling from the canyon’s center, Lac tumbled across the ground. After rolling for a while, he raised his head to the sky, grunting.
“…”
The sky was slashed diagonally.
Beyond the severed clouds, beyond the blue sky, he saw the outside of the world. Following that, a bang, kugung echoed as the canyon crumbled.
A segment of the canyon, sliced at a diagonal.
Covered by sliding piles of stones, the interior of the canyon became invisible. However, the sound of clashing swords still echoed.
‘What the… was that…?’
As Lac gazed blankly at the sky, a laugh resonated beside him.
“Hooh…”
Kalt smirked.
Lying on the ground and witnessing the same scene as Lac, Kalt suddenly chuckled. It reminded him of something he had said earlier.
“What’s going on, Kalt? Can a knight even do this?”
That question posed by his senior.
What had he answered to that question?
“Eh, come on. Is that even reasonable?”
“There’s no way something like that could happen! If it could, then that would mean a knight is a sword magician. A sword magician. Be reasonable.”
Kalt let out a short ha.
“There exists a sword magician.”
3.
At the stronghold, Kremperia, Lac returned.
When the battered Lac, Kalt, and Natida arrived at the stronghold, the forces stationed there had already prepared for battle. They said.
“Hero, Lady Rania…”
Hero, Rania van Trias.
If Lac and the other two did not return by tonight, she had sent an urgent message to delay the frontlines and await her arrival.
Lac replied that he would contact them directly and dismissed the knights. Once inside Kremperia Castle, Lac activated the communication magical device. After a moment of flickering, the communication circuit set in the castle lit up…
“…Lac?”
The voice of Raniel came through.
A flustered, relieved, and seemingly shocked voice. On the other side of the magical device, Raniel’s heavy breaths echoed for a while. The sound of her collapsing onto a seat followed.
“I’m really, really glad you made it back alive. Can you tell me what happened? Why did Ganikalt show up in the canyon with Barta…?”
“That’s something I’ll explain.”
As soon as he entered the castle, Kalt, who had rushed over for treatment, opened his mouth. As concisely as possible, he summarized the report.
“…”
Raniel could not respond immediately.
She couldn’t quite grasp the story she had just heard. Ganikalt appearing in the canyon in response to Natida’s prayer during the decisive battle with Barta? Tearing open spaces? Here all the way from Gehete at the end of the Phantom Territory?
“…First.”
After taking a deep breath, Raniel began to speak again.
“I understand the situation. I’m putting the operation on indefinite hold. I misjudged from the start. If I was going to go, I should have gone myself; I made an error in judgment. I’m sorry.”
“Who would have seen this coming? That it would tear even the gate generator apart.”
Kalt let out a long sigh.
“But thankfully, we survived this. I thought we were truly done for this time. I thought I was going to die without even being able to get back to my senior… Happily, it seems I averted that disaster.”
Numerous high priests rushed in to treat Kalt’s arms and hands, and all they could hear was the sound of bones cracking. Maybe due to numbness, Kalt felt no pain and let out a hollow laugh.
“The Holy Grail recovery… I think it’s something we’ll have to consider once that mad sword magician business is resolved. If we step there now, we might not come back with even our bones.”
“…Sword magician?”
“There is such a thing. I’ll provide details after I’m treated. I’ve bled too much; my head isn’t working properly right now.”
“Alright, then let’s do that…”
Just as she was about to cut off the communication.
“No need… to do that.”
A faint voice.
“There’s no need to reset the Holy Grail recovery operation.”
With closed eyes, Natida slowly opened them. Letting out a groan, she stretched her arms forward. Blood dripped from her outstretched hand. From that hand, a brilliant, platinum-colored starlight emanated.
The starlight soon formed the shape of a cup.
The shattered shape of a cup. The broken Holy Grail that had been the objective of their original mission lay there.
