“Charging through the Carapace Dragon to enter Alkeia, what awaits you at the entrance of the temple is the masterpiece of the Betrayer.”
A being dubbed the masterpiece by the Betrayer.
“Sword Master, Kuntel.”
Based on Kyle’s awakening, Kuntel stood at the pinnacle of humanity in the field of swords. And, as it usually goes for a peak Knight…
“He’s an excessively troublesome opponent. Especially for Mages.”
Kuntel is practically a natural enemy to Mages.
Not only does he read the prelude to a spell and cut it down, but he also disrupts the flow of Mana. With a Hero’s body intertwined, Kuntel maintains the prowess of his prime, and his swordsmanship has reached the realm of the divine.
“To counter him, we must go for a battle of attrition, but we have to keep fighting in the heart of Alkeia. If we don’t enter the temple, hordes of Beasts will continually swarm us.”
Alongside Kuntel, hundreds of Beasts.
Once time starts dragging, the tide of battle can turn in an instant. Raniel struck the operation board on the blackboard with her knuckles, making a thunk sound.
“The key to Alkeia is speed.”
A race against time to reach the center.
The moment it drags, it’s our defeat.
“Thus, here…”
Raniel looked at Kalt.
Kalt slowly nodded his head.
“I will take on Kuntel by myself, as per the plan.”
Kalt declared.
“That’s why I’ve become a Superhuman.”
2.
Before the wave of incoming Beasts, the expedition split up.
Draka and Lac, Natida.
Destel and Chloe, Belnoa.
Kelharlem and Resti.
The expedition team, scattered in threes, sprinted towards the temple, bypassing Kuntel standing in the center of the filthy wave. Their goal was to enter the temple’s interior. Addressing Kuntel was not their role.
Swish.
However, Kuntel wouldn’t just stand by and watch that happen.
With a glance, Kuntel swung his sword at those trying to pass by. Keeping the blade parallel to the sky. The blade pointing to the right suddenly vanished as if it had evaporated.
Zing.
Accompanied by the sound of ringing steel, the tip of the sword now pointed left. An instantaneous strike so fast it was impossible to follow with one’s eyes. A thin line was drawn in the air as it aimed to engulf the expedition team with a silent slicing sound.
Instead of a scratching sound, the clash of blades erupted like a KAAAAAAANG!
Interfering with Kuntel’s drawn sword path was Kalt’s sword. Only Kalt had the awareness to detect the rapid strike that sliced through the realm of perception. The horizontal attack twisted along Kalt’s sword line.
Clangclangclang!
The tilted sword energy plunged vertically into the ground rather than horizontally. As the ground split with a crack, Kuntel frowned at the moment the sword path contorted.
“……”
Kuntel silently gazed ahead.
There stood Kalt, wearing a faint smile.
“Where are you looking?”
Kalt sheathed his sword.
With a quick flick of his sword, the filthy wave crashing towards him scattered into irrelevancy.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen my disciple.”
Kalt smiled.
“Please show me a technique, Master.”
Kuntel’s gaze no longer directed towards the expedition.
The aged knight stared at the young man before him. An old rival appeared right before Kuntel. Gradually, Kuntel began to take his stance. Upon observing Kuntel’s preparation, Kalt let out a soft exhale.
The expedition team passed Kuntel to head for the temple’s door.
Destel, leading the charge, glanced back.
A brief exchange of gazes. Moments later, Kalt nodded and took a step forward. To carry out the mission assigned to him. To prove the path he had walked.
*
“Charge in!”
Kicking the temple’s door, Destel rushed inside. The scattered individuals converged into one point, passing through the door. The moment they entered, they were greeted by a workshop covered in filth.
A workshop of an alchemist filled with traces of betrayal, it could be called the worst. Although they had heard of what awaited them here, seeing it with their own eyes induced uncontrollable nausea.
Leaving behind the horrid scene, they scattered again.
Divided into three, they aimed to obliterate the major stronghold in the workshop and infiltrate the center, ultimately surrounding Gletus the Betrayer from all sides. That was the core of the raid against the Betrayer during the annihilation of Alkeia.
Draka and Lac, Natida.
Destel and Chloe, Belnoa.
Kelharlem and Resti.
On the opposite side, Raniel and Remia were approaching.
While the expedition raced toward the temple’s center, there was someone left behind. Karioth, standing at the very rear of the expedition, halted his steps. He stretched out his hand towards the temple door.
What he grasped was a sword adorned with a red cross.
As Karioth drew the cross sword, he swung it with a swish. The wave rushing through the temple door shattered with a schwing sound, splitting apart.
Thud.
Resisting towards the deep end of the temple, Resti snapped his fingers. What burst forth from the space was part of the summoned creatures Resti possessed. Three great golems bearing large coffins.
“Oh. Quite reliable.”
Gazing at the golem approaching him, Karioth let out a chuckle.
“Thank you, Miss Witch.”
As he cast a glance at the retreating backs of the expedition, Karioth turned back to gaze outside the temple. There lay his stage. A place where the black filth waves swirled.
Rustle.
Swinging his sword, Karioth moved outside the temple. The waves swirling outside sought to pursue the expedition that had ventured deep into the temple…
“That won’t do.”
At the entrance of the temple.
Karioth gestured, and the three golems followed suit, closing the temple door. With a thud, the temple door slammed shut.
“Behind me.”
The three golems slammed the coffin onto the ground.
With a thud, the lid of the coffin opened.
“Beyond this door.”
Inside the coffin lay countless blades.
All sorts of weaponry, alongside magically inscribed swords and artifacts densely packed. Gripping the red cross sword, Karioth’s expression hardened.
“Not a single one shall pass.”
That was the mission given to the undying Karioth.
To protect the backs of those leading the charge.
Witnessing the incoming tide of Beasts, Karioth offered a prayer. Not to some god above in the sky.
But rather, to his own self. The faith Karioth had resided not in a deific figure above, but in his own being.
He believed solely in his conviction, and thus, even in the land of Alkeia, where faith was scattered, Karioth’s faith remained unbroken. A bright light radiated from Karioth’s body. In the presence of that light, the foul waves of filth surged heavily.
Light, faith, holiness.
The entities filled with rancor and curses appeared before him. The tide composed of Beasts and filth now solely gazed upon Karioth.
“Whew…”
Karioth exhaled sharply.
Facing the tidal wave, he shouted.
More precisely, towards beyond the tide.
“Go ahead, big guy.”
His voice reached Kuntel, who was exchanging blows with Kalt. Kalt realized that all the waves surrounding him had disappeared in that fleeting moment of respite. Taking a deep breath, Kalt made a swift leap backward.
As he jumped, Kalt reached for his waist.
What he drew was the artifact he had received before the operation began. Kalt threw the cubic artifact towards Kuntel. With a swish, Kuntel swung to cut down the incoming artifact, momentarily engulfing both him and Kalt in a blinding white flash.
As the flash subsided, no one remained where they had once stood.
Karioth, staring at the vanished positions of Kuntel and Kalt, soon bloodied his cross sword. The thorns emerged from the cross and entwined around Karioth’s arm, providing him with the pain that confirmed his existence.
“Seriously, she’s quite fiery.”
Remembering his late, fiery wife brought a hearty laugh from Karioth. Chuckling, he threw himself into the tide.
The encroaching waves of Beasts.
Chewed flesh and spewing blood.
Bloodshed, agony, and trials.
The ancient Holy Knight lifted his sword to uphold his conviction.
3.
When the flash subsided, Kuntel looked ahead.
What he saw upon opening his eyes was not the sprawling pastures of Alkeia he stood in moments ago. Looking up at the sky, what floated above was not the sun. Instead, it was a broad night sky.
…Familiar.
Surveying his surroundings revealed towering cliffs.
A steep canyon, indeed. In the center of the canyon stood Kuntel. The Betrayer’s masterpiece was unaware of this terrain. However, the human ‘Kuntel’, forming the core of that masterpiece, recognized this landscape.
Galatrick.
Kirmelt Canyon, Galatrick.
The place Kuntel spent his childhood. Where he honed his sword and collided with his siblings and masters. Reminiscing, Kuntel didn’t immediately swing his sword. At the same time, his eyes pierced through the essence of this space.
…This space does not exist.
A phantasm created by an artifact. To be precise, it’s comparable to the scenery of the Otherworld traversed by Summoners’ creatures. Thus, Kuntel speculated, and his assumption was correct.
The artifact created by Cardi functioned similarly to the Holy Grail. It generates an isolated phantasmal space based on the user’s memories.
Of course, it wasn’t as sturdy as the Holy Grail, nor could the death experienced here be erased. This artifact merely created space.
Thud.
With determination, Kuntel, who could tear apart this space and escape, didn’t do so. More accurately, he couldn’t.
Thud.
The moment he prepared to fracture the space, the knight wouldn’t simply stand by and watch. Kuntel turned his gaze toward the knight walking toward him.
Clop.
Kalt, who bore the name of the Sword Saint, came to a halt.
In Kalt’s hand was an empty vial.
The liquid once contained the essence of life harvested from the World Tree’s core, turned into serum.
“Whew…”
Kalt let out a short breath as he opened his eyes.
Throwing aside the empty vial, he unsheathed his sword. The silver-white blade sparkled under the starlight in the night sky.
“……”
Kuntel raised his sword as well.
The two swordsmen faced each other.
Boom.
A low echo of sword ringing resonated as Kalt and Kuntel adopted the exact same pose at the exact same moment. Their breaths, the sway of their swords, and even the tremors of the ground overlapped.
Though their swords never clashed.
In the numerous futures seen by both swordsmen, swords clashed countless times. Blood sprayed repeatedly. Many futures painted in their minds reminded Kalt of his past encounters with the proud swordsman before him.
“…At that young age, you went to war?”
“Without parents, your only way to survive was to head to war? Truly the end times for this generation.”
“If you live like that, you won’t last long, kid.”
“Follow me. You have to learn something to survive long.”
In the past, Kuntel taught swordsmanship to simple soldiers wandering the battlefield. His hope was for them to survive longer or for the techniques of Galatrick, known only to him, to be passed on to someone else.
Kalt was one of those.
Kalt learned from Kuntel and discovered how to harness his talents. That was why Kalt admired and respected Kuntel. He longed to become a Superhuman, akin to Kuntel.
“…One day.”
Reflecting on the past.
Kalt chuckled.
“I wanted to show you.”
On the blade of Kalt, moonlight flickered with a gleam.
“I’ve become a Superhuman, just as you taught that boy. I stand in the same realm as you.”
He wished to embody his worth.
Although that dream could never be achieved in Kuntel’s lifetime, it had, in a twisted way, been realized. Kalt questioned whether he should be grateful for this or resent the world.
He knew one thing.
‘He must prove it.’
To validate his life, the path he had walked, Kalt drew his sword. He had made it here.
“Please, one strike.”
Kalt steadied himself.
Kuntel prepared his stance.
“Master.”
The former Sword Saint and the current Sword Saint rushed toward each other. With every step they took, the ground fractured. Stones erupted upwards. Dust swirled like a whirlwind.
Same stance. Same movement. Same breath.
As their blades drew exact trajectories, they met in a clash.
