Ch.858A Fight Without an Answer

Meiharin’s self-destruction before she could do anything was certainly a stroke of fortune for Hersella.

Had Meiharin, who had manifested the Demon Eye, healed her wounds and rejoined the battlefield to attack her, Hersella would have been in a difficult position.

The sight that sees souls. Eyes that subjugate the mind of those who meet their gaze. An ability that elevates a sorcerer’s capacity to the next level and the power to control all mana in the surroundings according to one’s will.

The Demon Eye was a grand sorcery that combined abilities every sorcerer would covet into one. It was a power so mighty that even Hersella, who had manifested the Divine Flesh, couldn’t afford to be careless against it.

While she could block mental subjugation through her mana resistance infused with the power of devouring, Meiharin’s sorcery itself would have become faster and stronger after manifesting the Demon Eye.

【 G̵͇̫̔̀͢͠r҉̢͔̠̪͕͓͐̊͞rŗ̶̫͓̪̩҇̾̾̇̽ͅrr̶̡̲͉͓̭͕҇̅̂̓rr̴̡̘̗̋͒̂͝rr҉͓̥̘̃̀̇̂̚͢͝….̶̢̟̌͑͡ 】

However, Meiharin ended up self-destructing after unexpectedly facing Vanirgand through the Demon Eye. Hersella hadn’t noticed this yet.

Of course, even if she had noticed, she wouldn’t have let out a cheer of joy at her enemy’s self-destruction.

– Crack!

“Ugh…!”

There was no time to rejoice in the fortune of Meiharin’s self-destruction, as her current situation was hopelessly difficult.

—-

The Sword of Severance.

Rotholandus’s Tale of Heros was a technique that boasted near invincibility in close combat. Even Hersella couldn’t think of a proper way to counter it.

How could one block a sword that tears through space itself? Defense was meaningless.

Even the Unyielding Flesh, unmatched in defensive power, let alone the Divine Flesh, was no different from paper before the Sword of Severance.

Moreover, unlike “Haschal” who had implemented the power of severance through Durandal, Rotholandus was demonstrating that this ability was his original Tale of Heros by wielding the power of spatial cutting not just with his sword, but with his limbs as well.

“Graaak!”

Whether it was a knife-hand strike with his open palm, a kick aimed at Hersella, or even a headbutt—everything tore through space as it approached.

“What, even with his forehead…?!”

Hersella twisted her body to desperately avoid the zombie’s forehead, letting out an exasperated complaint.

A Tale of Heros that couldn’t be blocked with armor or deflected with a sword.

When she had read about it in tales, she had simply accepted it… but now, facing it as an enemy, it was such a troublesome technique that she had no idea how to deal with it.

Moreover, not only was defense impossible, but attacking was also no easy task.

Unless she aimed for a perfect opening that couldn’t be countered, if she swung casually as a feint and it collided with the Sword of Severance, her weapon would be cleanly cut in half.

“Kyaaaah!”

– Clang!

Besides, even if she managed to target such an opening and swing her weapon, it wouldn’t inflict a fatal wound.

Unless it was a full-powered slash, a blade thrust aimed at an opening would only manage to cut the zombie’s clothes and skin even if it hit.

The Blessing of the Fire God. Just like Hersella’s own body, the zombie’s body inhabited by Rotholandus was blessed with protection that weakened the sharpness of swords and spears.

‘No, come to think of it, that side is the original. The blessing in my body was a gift from him to us.’

Defense was impossible, attacking was extremely difficult, and even when successful, it had little effect.

In the end, all Hersella could do was avoid the trajectories of spatial cutting rather than getting hit in the first place.

“Gyaaaaa!”

Against an opponent who, despite some physical limitations, clearly possessed combat prowess on par with her own.

It was not an easy fight. Even by Hersella’s standards.

Wary of spatial cutting, unable to freely extend her hands or feet, and forced into one-sided evasion while desperately trying to maintain distance.

“At least like this…!”

While continuing to retreat, Hersella tried to make something resembling attacks by kicking away obstacles in her path or throwing them, but such crude responses wouldn’t work against an opponent of this caliber.

“Guooo―aah!”

The zombie thrust a fist like a cannonball after pulling it far back behind his side. The stone pillar Hersella had thrown shattered upon contact with his punch. Fragments swept in all directions, and the dust that rose swirled like a whirlwind.

‘So it’s impossible even to bind his feet. There’s no solution.’

Witnessing this, Hersella had to humbly acknowledge that she had no way to counter the Sword of Severance.

Blocking it with Durandal at her waist was also impossible. In her hands, unrecognized as its master, Durandal was no different from an ordinary silver sword, not the peerless blade that wouldn’t break.

If she drew Durandal and tried to block the Sword of Severance, she would shatter her mother’s heirloom, a legendary holy weapon.

‘With Star Extinction, perhaps it might work…’

Star Extinction—a technique that breaks the Tale of Heros itself with lightning of stacked Karma of Murder pushed to the extreme.

The weapon would suffer tremendous strain, so even the Crimson Sword couldn’t withstand more than one strike, but it might be able to directly counter the Sword of Severance.

At least, it had definitely been able to destroy Orhan’s Unyielding Flesh.

‘…The risk is too great.’

But even for Hersella, this was a gamble. If she failed, she might lose both her weapon and her arm at once.

No, with such an outcome, she’d have no chance of victory, so it was a dangerous gamble that could cost not just an arm but her life.

‘What should I do….’

Hersella pondered.

Whether to stake her life on a once-in-a-lifetime gamble. Or to choose the ‘rational’ method that she had tried not to even think about due to her pride…

—-

The time for deliberation was short.

Not because Hersella had a decisive and resolute personality, but because her opponent was forcing her into a situation where she had to make a decision as quickly as possible.

What does that mean?

“…Don’t strip! I said don’t strip!”

The answer would be found in the sudden exclamation Hersella blurted out in shock, while she had been busy throwing rocks and pillars.

“Gryuu…?”

In the midst of their fierce battle, Hersella suddenly burst out in astonishment, pointing accusingly.

For the soul of Rotholandus inside the zombie, whose rationality had largely evaporated, it was impossible to understand why his opponent would react this way.

He had merely torn off some tattered cloth that was flapping around and getting in the way—why would she stop fighting and gape in shock?

– Rip.

His instinct was telling him. This form was precisely how he should appear when revealing his full power.

– Swoosh.

So this wasn’t something to be shocked about, but rather something to be celebrated. At least by his standards.

“Gyarr…!”

After all, he, Rotholandus of the Great’s Twelve Knights, had acknowledged his opponent as a worthy adversary who required his full strength.

“I said don’t strip, you crazy ancestor bastard!!”

Of course, for Hersella, it was enough to make her rage and jump in fury.

She completely abandoned the refined speech she had cultivated since childhood and freely used vulgar curses like a common thug.

In fact, Hersella felt like she was about to lose her mind from the shock.

A woman who looked exactly like her mother, except for black hair and missing eyeballs—

– Slide.

She had torn off her entire upper garment and even undone her underwear, revealing her supple nakedness before Hersella’s eyes.

Should she consider it fortunate that the woman had stopped halfway through tearing her skirt, perhaps in response to Hersella’s shout?

‘Fortunate my ass!’

Hersella couldn’t think of it that way.

The upper body was completely naked. The lower body was barely covered by tattered cloth pieces pretending to be a skirt, through which the pale skin of the inner thighs was clearly visible.

It was an appearance so vulgar that even a prostitute would turn away in disgust.

“This… crazy…!”

Hersella could only sputter curses, at a loss for words.

Given her personality, if the opponent had simply been her enemy, she would have merely mocked the vulgar appearance rather than being shocked or trying to stop it—

“Who do you think you’re doing this as…!”

But the woman before her eyes was, despite being mixed with garbage and madness, undeniably also her mother.

For Hersella, the current situation was literally no different from an ancient ancestor stripping her mother naked.

‘First, somehow, I need to clothe her… No, is that even possible?’

Before humiliation or anger, bewilderment surged first, making her head spin.

She could understand the sudden reason for stripping. Her ancestor, the crazy exhibitionist lunatic Rotholandus, apparently liked to fight naked, as recorded even in his biography.

Of course, his fighting naked was supposedly to maximize the power of the blessing residing in his flesh, but…

‘No, isn’t that just an excuse? There doesn’t seem to be much difference.’

Hersella considered this a mere excuse to justify his exhibitionist tendencies.

After all, Hersella already knew.

Although she hadn’t directly experienced it herself, she knew that the difference in protective power of the Fire God’s blessing in her body wasn’t that significant between being naked and clothed.

At least in Hersella’s judgment, the difference wasn’t worth tearing off perfectly good clothes to increase defensive power.

Then wouldn’t the original be the same?

“Crazy exhibitionist bastard…”

Thus, Hersella concluded that Rotholandus was a mentally ill exhibitionist.

Of course, this was close to a misunderstanding on her part.

Hersella’s belief that there wasn’t much difference in protective power between being naked and clothed was because her usual attire was already quite revealing.

Having lived in such attire for years, Hersella herself was completely unaware, but her usual outfit was little different from wearing underwear with a short cape. At least by Imperial standards.

In other words, unlike Rotholandus, who normally covered his entire body with uniform and medium armor, Hersella’s everyday appearance was practically half-naked, which is why the difference in the blessing’s protective power wasn’t significant.

Then.

Between the two people here, which one should truly be called an exhibitionist?

Hersella will never realize the answer in her lifetime.

People are naturally adept at spotting others’ flaws but fail to properly see or know their own.