Chapter Index





    The Great Sword is not the Main Body!






    Chapter 158 – Twilight

    “Huh…? B-Baldy!! Breathe, damn it! Breathe! Hey! You promised you’d pay me back! HicSob…” Delia, having already spread her mana to sense Heinzel’s breathing, was the first to reach him.

    “Heinzel!”

    Yuria followed, summoning her plants to encase him.

    Last came Hermilla. She cautiously extended her senses, assessing Heinzel’s condition before slowly turning.

    Heinzel, transported by Serr’s spirits, was a horrifying sight. His armor was mangled. Teeth shattered. Body drenched in blood. Legs crumpled, bones likely crushed. Artificial arm twisted grotesquely. And his heart… silent.

    Hermilla gritted her teeth, her jaw aching, and closed her eyes.

    “Kalt… Is Kalt down?” Her voice was low, strained.

    “…Yes. Confirmed annihilation…” Yuria relayed Juur’s report, her voice trembling.

    “He’d already died once. No soul left for the ritual.” Serr’s tone was unnervingly calm. She approached Hermilla, a disturbing grin on her face. “Fortunate, really. He was the most troublesome opponent.”

    “Fortunate…?” Even through her tears, Delia heard Serr’s words. She glared at her, face contorted in grief and rage. “You… call this fortunate?”

    “Indeed. Lady Noah explained that killing Kalt required striking within a 0.2-second window during his attack. Near impossible for ranged fighters like us. Close combat was impractical with the other Masters present. We were lucky to have Mistilteinn. Without it, Heinzel…”

    Crackle!

    A bolt of lightning arced around Serr.

    “…Shut up.” Delia seethed.

    “He would have died, accomplishing nothing.”

    “SHUT UP!!!”

    ROAR!

    A massive lion formed of pure lightning erupted around Delia.

    Serr dismissed it with a flick of her wrist. “Lady Delia, I’ve told you before. Mages mustn’t be ruled by emotion. Magic is too easily swayed. Rationality is paramount.”

    “Serr, please… stop. Heinzel was our comrade, our family. Let us grieve. I know there’s no time, but… please.” Yuria, holding the sobbing Delia, began to cry herself. Finally, Serr fell silent.

    As their cries subsided, a chilling voice broke the silence.

    “Hm… To have comrades grieve for you so… For the first time, I envy you, Heinzel. Pfft… Hahaha…” Serr’s laughter was laced with amusement.

    Then—

    “Khaha… Kahahahaha!!!” Heinzel’s hearty laughter, impossible after his apparent death, echoed across the battlefield.

    “KYAAAAAHHH!!!”

    SLAP!

    Delia, startled, recoiled from Heinzel’s chest and slapped his bald head hard.

    “Ahahahaha!!!” A bright red handprint bloomed on his scalp, but Heinzel just laughed harder.

    “H-Heinzel…” Hermilla stumbled towards him, tears streaming down her face. “You’re… alive?”

    “Mhm! Just messing with Serr!”

    “You’re… really alive? Not some… blessing or revival…? Truly alive?”

    “Of course! I wouldn’t lose to the brat who lost to me! Hahahaha!!!”

    Hermilla’s tears flowed freely, her face soaked.

    “You… you people…” she choked out.

    “Hmm? Hermilla?”

    With a fist clenched white-knuckle tight—

    “Your jokes… go too far.”

    “W-Wait! A wrong hit now and I’ll actually die! Serr, help—!”

    CRACK!

    Hermilla’s fist connected with Heinzel’s face.

    ***

    Smack! Smack!

    “Hey! Wake up!”

    Smack! Smack!

    “Guh?! Huff!” Heinzel’s eyes snapped open. He clutched his cheek.

    “Did I… get knocked out by Hermilla?”

    “Yeah. Serves you right for those stupid pranks.”

    “Oho! Charlotte! Long time no see!”

    “You idiot. Call me ‘Princess’ in public.”

    “Right. Sorry, Princess.”

    “The honorifics… Just call me Charlotte. ‘Princess’ doesn’t mean much now, does it?” Charlotte sighed, running a hand through her hair and biting down on a mana herb. She surveyed the battlefield.

    A palpable tension hung over the desolate ruins where five Challengers and a Spirit Summoner stood their ground.

    “…This is strange. They should be here. Where are they?”

    “Maybe they stopped to rest?”

    “No, Juur’s Clairvoyance can’t find them. What are they planning…?”

    Clank. Clank.

    “Maybe they had to take a dump.”

    “Seriously?”

    Clank. Clank.

    “What are you doing?”

    “Finding some decent armor.”

    “Why?”

    “I’m going to help them fight.”

    Clank. Creak. Groan. Clank.

    “Don’t be ridiculous. Lie down.”

    “No.”

    “Do you know what kind of shape you’re in?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then just stay dow—”

    Clank.

    Fully armored, Heinzel fixed Charlotte with a serious gaze.

    “I’m fine, Charlotte. I can’t die before I arm-wrestle that brat.”

    “What…? Arm-wrestling?”

    “Mhm. I have to keep my promise this time.” He forced a laugh, rolling his shoulders.

    Charlotte stared at him, then stood abruptly. She swayed, but steadied herself and started gathering her own armor.

    “Then I’m going too.”

    “No, you’re not.”

    “I’m going.”

    Thump. Heinzel gripped her shoulders.

    “When this is over, and peace returns, the empire will need an emperor.”

    “I don’t care about—”

    “And someone needs to remember the heroes who brought that peace, to tell their stories.”

    “…No.”

    “Charlotte.” Heinzel’s usual carefree grin flashed, revealing his broken teeth. “Watch over the heroes. Remember their beginning and their end.” And… “Don’t forget us.”

    “Please, Charlotte. Only you can do this.”

    She couldn’t refuse. She knew she was the last of the imperial bloodline, all others having pledged themselves to Erden. If the Liberation Army won, she would be all that remained. And heroes… heroes deserved to be remembered.

    “I… I…”

    “It’s alright, Charlotte. You’re more suited to the throne than anyone.” His cold, artificial hand ruffled her hair. “Think about how you’ll start their story. I’ll be back soon.”

    Charlotte covered her eyes, fighting back tears. She heard Rubia’s soft breaths, the receding clang of Heinzel’s armor, and—

    The deafening boom that signaled the beginning of the battle.

    ***

    The battle began with the sudden appearance of a monstrous maw.

    Fenrir, Devourer of Worlds.

    Its jaws gaped open.

    “Alex!”

    “You made it!”

    CRASH!

    Countless steel spikes, conjured by Alex, slammed into Fenrir’s open mouth. Simultaneously, Mia loosed an arrow, massive and spear-shaped, aimed at the revealed Masters.

    Just before impact, Serr flicked her wrist. The arrow’s trajectory shifted—upwards. Propelled by the wind, it soared, then exploded into a storm of razor-sharp shards, raining down on the battlefield.

    But the Masters remained untouched. Aran, wielding a massive shield, had nullified the attack with his unique ability.

    Hermilla, seeing her plan unfold, dashed forward, a blur of violet. Concealed by darkness, silenced by the wind, her movements a trick of the light, she reached the enemy lines. As the rain of shards ceased, she unleashed the Force of Destruction, her fist aimed at Aran’s nape.

    Clang! Two invisible swords materialized, blocking her strike. They flowed like water, reversing their momentum to slash at Hermilla’s neck. Undodgeable. Unblockable. Undeflectable. Master Kalluso, wielding the twin blades, unleashed the Force of Decapitation.

    Slash! The sharp slice echoed across the battlefield. A single line cut through the ruins. Hermilla’s form dissolved.

    Flash! A burst of light. An illusion, crafted by Serr’s spirits and Delia’s magic. And through the deception, the real Hermilla’s fist hurtled towards Aran’s heart.

    But then, Serr’s trembling voice changed everything.

    “…Why… are there only five…?”

    BOOOOM! A monstrous roar. An immense gravitational force slammed into the earth. Its source—

    The rear lines. Where Rubia slept.


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