Ch.245Enlightenment

Valenstein’s goal was to create more than thirty thousand deaths in this place.

He didn’t mind losing the battle, but losing without resistance was problematic. If that happened, only a few thousand would die at most.

If that occurred, both the destruction of the Holy Grail and reaching the realm beyond the wall would become distant goals once again.

How much time would be needed for a war of this scale to happen again? He wasn’t confident his aging body would last until then.

Yet he was reluctant to engage in single combat because he couldn’t assess his chances of victory.

That strange slash that seemed to cut through even Jineum, and that bizarre power burning crimson while consuming Karma. The opponent’s skills had improved remarkably since he’d last seen them.

Especially problematic was that flame. Even with the Ghost Sword, he wasn’t immune to fire.

If those flames were scattered around, half of his techniques would be effectively sealed.

The opponent probably couldn’t use such power repeatedly, but… if they could use it just once more than he anticipated, it would be enough to determine the outcome.

‘…The final strike was clearly an ordinary slash. Is he unable to use it again, or is he conserving his strength? Which is it….’

If he engaged, he had to win.

There would be no more miserable death than falling in one-on-one combat.

“Did you think you could defeat me with just this! Living with your head buried between a whore’s thighs has rotted your brain, Valenstein!”

Haschal, noticing that Valenstein was hesitating, taunted him with a triumphant voice.

“How dare that wench…!”

“…Ignore her. It’s merely simple provocation.”

Valenstein restrained his adjutant who looked ready to draw his sword.

Though he too felt anger rising at the young woman’s insolent words, he was no longer young enough to act rashly without thinking.

“Where are you, Valenstein! Planning to hide like a rat again? That’s why you’re so pathetic—at your age and still not skilled enough to defeat me!”

Though he wasn’t of an age to be hot-blooded anymore…

“You wasted old man, if you’ve gone senile, you should be resting in bed! Ah, but you have been in bed, haven’t you? In the bed of that fish-smelling whore, Isabella! Is Ernst the traitor actually your child? The Empire’s First Sword and First Spear—what a perfect pair! Though at your age, you probably can’t even get it up properly!”

…it was provocation enough to make even the calmest blood boil.

Born as the heir to a mere viscount family, rising to the rank of marquis with just one sword.

Until now, not a single person had dared to hurl such insults at him.

‘Fine. I just need to win, don’t I? Just win!’

Finally, Valenstein drew his sword.

=====[Haschal]=====

“Hearing this insolence pierces the heavens!”

So the Ghost Sword has finally appeared.

Jineum saw Valenstein approaching on horseback with a distorted expression, clutching his longsword.

How nice of him to come out. The provocation was worth it.

Judging by Ernst’s condition, ten Parashuvalies wouldn’t be enough to completely break their fighting spirit.

But if even their strongest knight was defeated, things would change. Then neither soldiers nor knights and nobles would want to continue fighting.

The question was whether I could defeat the Ghost Sword… but I should manage somehow.

What Hersella could do, I certainly can do now.

Time to roll the second dice.

“Finally showing yourself, dementia sword! I thought you’d gone deaf from old age!”

“I’ll cut out that tongue of yours!”

Valenstein leaped from his horse and charged forward, with a ferocity completely different from before.

I gripped Durandal firmly with both hands. This wasn’t an attack that could be blocked with one hand.

Despite all my taunting, he was undoubtedly the Empire’s greatest swordsman. Even without the Ghost Sword, he was a formidable opponent.

“I’ll send you to your grave, Valensteiiiiin!”

“Aishan-Giorooo!”

Jineum and Jineum collided, releasing fierce screams.

Crimson tentacles tore through the earth, and azure flashes swirled like a vortex.

Even the air shattered into pieces. Aftershocks wrapped in sparks swept in all directions.

The gathered crowd forgot even to blink, watching in silence the duel between the Empire’s strongest warriors.

A battle that might determine the outcome of this war.

—-

Flashes of sword light flickered chaotically.

Deflected slashes tore up the surroundings, turning the area into something resembling ruins.

Indeed, the ferocity of Valenstein fighting in earnest was overwhelming.

The battle had continued for twenty minutes already.

Neither had used their ultimate techniques yet, but their skills were evenly matched.

Each time a clear line of blood was drawn on my body, he too had to offer his flesh to Durandal’s blade.

There wasn’t a moment to pause. Neither for me nor for Valenstein.

We moved constantly, avoiding fatal wounds and swinging our swords to counter-attack. Ignoring when blades cut into skin.

Because hesitation would bring defeat.

“Doesn’t your severed chest hurt, Aishan-Gioro!”

“I’m still young, you know!”

I deflected the longsword aiming for my neck and stretched out my left hand.

Crimson Baltom shot out like an awl. Valenstein’s sword drew a circle. My arm, extended in a straight line, twisted awkwardly and missed.

Four tentacles dug in like hooks toward Valenstein as he tried to counter-attack.

Like a giant demon beast clenching sharp fingers.

“Unlike a dying old man, minor scratches heal quickly for me!”

“I envy that!”

A flash swung like lightning. Two tentacles were cut off instantly.

As expected, mere accumulations of Murder Karma couldn’t withstand the Ghost Sword’s slash.

I twisted my body to avoid a thrust that slipped through the gap. My shoulder armor was scraped off, sending metal fragments flying.

“Of course you’d be envious!”

Valenstein was pushed back after being kicked. Though he blocked with his arm, he appeared uninjured.

Our strength being similar, he wasn’t like the others. If it had been a Parashuvaliye, the blocking arm would have been shattered.

As he countered with similar strength and dispersed the excess force, it was difficult to inflict damage with simple strikes.

“Yes, I’m envious! Envious to the point of madness! That power as if born of divine lineage! That talent reaching heights impossible at your age! Even the flow of time that welcomes you!”

What is he talking about?

Valenstein shouted in rage.

“I don’t know what you’re saying!”

“Of course you don’t! You don’t know how blessed an era you live in!”

Our entangled swords groaned with a screech.

Whether from battle excitement or heightened emotions, Valenstein’s eyes before me were filled with resentment.

“Blessed? What nonsense! After causing all this chaos!”

Absurd words.

I had barely managed to contain the damage through luck; he had nearly caused an incident that would have engulfed the entire Empire in the flames of war, yet he spoke without restraint.

“It was necessary! Without war and slaughter, the strong cannot be born! You’re the same, aren’t you!”

“What is this senile old man saying!”

I twisted the hilt and deflected his attack.

Our crossed blades scraped against each other as they separated.

“Die impaled!”

From my left hand touching the ground, crimson shadows extended, and sharp thorns erupted from the surface.

Valenstein leaped backward and swung his sword to cut down the stake-like thorns.

“That ferocious power! Your strength, tempered through countless slaughters, is proof that I’m right!”

His fluttering clothes were torn like rags.

Having grazed a thorn he failed to deflect, faint drops of blood seeped from his thigh.

“What, so you’re trying to accumulate Murder Karma? To become even a little stronger? You’ve gone completely insane! Why not just hunt demon beasts instead!”

“It’s meaningless! It was all meaningless!”

Valenstein shouted as if wailing.

The passion that had been gradually building with each exchange of blades was now erupting like a volcano.

“Don’t you understand yet! This is the limit! No one can become stronger than this! For hundreds of years!”

A slash swung as if expelling his soul.

For the first time in this fight, my sword was completely deflected.

“Kugh!”

“Look, this is the limit of the current era!”

Valenstein pulled his sword behind his back. As if to cut my exposed waist in half with one strike.

The next moment, a blue flash lunged like lightning.

[Oh no, dodge it!]

The crimson barrier I raised like a wave was completely cut through.

Even with all the power of Murder Karma, I couldn’t withstand this single flash. It was truly a slash containing all the power of the Empire’s First Sword, not just the Ghost Sword.

I can’t block it.

That sword contained Werner Valenstein’s entire life, accumulated over decades.

The soul-infused strike approached, cutting through killing intent.

Time scattered into pieces, and only one sword remained clearly visible.

In my whitened, flickering consciousness, facing sudden death, my overheated brain provided an answer.

I could understand what it was.

The nature of power, its essence, and even what lay beyond.

Yes.

The power of Murder Karma was borrowed, not originally mine. That’s why it crumbles.

To face an attack infused with soul, I too had to fight with the power I had built—my soul.

Achievement.

My footsteps advancing for half a year since falling into this world.

And even before that, the life I had lived.

A door opens in my mind.

It was a gap too narrow to cross through, but the radiance glimpsed through the crack guided me.

It’s not about putting my power into the sword. That’s merely using a tool.

Not wielding the sword, but wielding myself toward the world.

That is the first step toward transcendence.

The world opens.

Everything I am was contained in this hand.

“That may be your limit!”

A slash accelerating at impossible speed cut through Valenstein’s body.