Ch.959Three Against One

The golden-haired youth who suddenly started claiming to be my fiancé revealed his name as Astolfo.

He claimed to be one of the ancient heroes who once swept across battlefields alongside Rotholandus, the founder of House Median… in other words, one of the Great’s Twelve Knights.

It wasn’t an easy claim to accept.

“What nonsense!”

So I dismissed it as the ravings of a madman and charged at him, swinging my sword.

My words weren’t born of disbelief—rather, they came from stubborn refusal to acknowledge something that might have some truth to it.

“Such a dangerous blade against your fiancé. You’re more of a wildcat than Bradamante herself!”

How could I possibly accept it?

That this idiotic lunatic, who had invested all his stat points in charm instead of intelligence, was one of the legendary heroes still celebrated to this day.

“Shut up and die. Stop disrespecting the deceased heroes from eight hundred years ago.”

They say legends tend to be exaggerated beyond reality… but there are limits. This went beyond exaggeration—it was outright fraud.

If Lacy were here, she would have clutched her head and wailed.

This wasn’t a Great’s Twelve Knight—this would have caused her to scream and suffer severe psychological trauma.

Like children who discover that Satan Claus, who supposedly kidnaps naughty children at year’s end, is actually their parents who sold them for money.

Yes.

The Satan Claus tale was an allegory criticizing those who sold their children to human traffickers due to financial hardship.

It happened so frequently that people treated him as though he were real, when strictly speaking, he was a fictional entity.

Anyone could figure this out by age eight at the earliest, or thirteen at the latest. That was when children fetched the highest prices.

Organ traffickers typically insisted on those 18 or older, but others preferred children around ten years old, raising them according to their purposes.

They were easier to train while requiring less maintenance.

I’d heard that even the government of the Republic of Korea mass-purchased such children to raise them as secret agents for the intelligence agency or as the President’s personal guard…

Being a conspiracy theory, its veracity remained unclear, but like most conspiracy theories, it was quite plausible.

“Has your blade dulled?”

Ah, I got lost in thought for too long…!

A greatsword pierced through the clashing spear and sword. Part of my armor touched by the black flame turned to ash and scattered.

“Kuh…!”

I unleashed Frosting to repel the self-proclaimed Astolfo with a mana barrier, and with the rebound, I turned my body and countered the old man’s greatsword with Durandal.

– KWAAANG!

An explosive sound erupted. The true sword that destroys mana shattered the black flame of dark mana, causing it to rupture. Flying flame fragments grazed my cheek, leaving a slight burn.

“Well, a descendant is still a descendant, even if a mixed breed. It’s only natural to be shocked…”

The old man chuckled mockingly.

“Why bother distinguishing purebreds from mixed breeds? We’re not dogs.”

I slid sideways several meters while taunting him.

Dealing with the black flame greatsword wasn’t difficult in itself, but I couldn’t prevent my feet from sliding with each impact when blocking or deflecting.

Of course, I was managing with just a slide, while the old man was being knocked back as if kicked away.

“Ah. Though I suppose your family lineage might be worth examining. Perhaps your father had four, six, or even eight legs?”

“Ho ho, such a sharp tongue on this jumping wench!”

The old man with the greatsword let out a hollow laugh as he swung his weapon.

He seemed irritated. The veins bulging on his forehead were clearly visible among his white hair.

“Jumping wench, you say?”

I twisted our connected blades to deflect his greatsword while asking.

– KARDDRUK!

Was it because of the wavelike curved blade? My wrist shook violently, making it difficult to maintain perfect sword form.

“Only one person ever called me that… and he ended up in a fate worse than death.”

It was an insult I hadn’t heard in a long time. Amin once called me—Hersella—that. A childhood slur, was it?

“Think you’ll be any different?”

I dove in after deflecting his greatsword and threw a punch. The old man, without even showing surprise, calmly swung his sword hilt to meet it.

– KWAAANG!

Frosting’s claws, which I had intended to use to rip out his innards, were blocked by the pommel of his greatsword, and his flowing slash struck my forearm hard, knocking me back.

A blow powerful enough to have severed my arm if not for Frosting. Whatever material his greatsword was made of, its strength was almost on par with a true sword.

“That hurts, old man!”

I channeled the pain into anger and swung my sword.

“Worse than death… Then you’ve already paid your advance!”

“That’s for me to decide, not you!”

A moonlight-like flash tore through the air, and black flames rose like waves, burning the earth.

An even match—no, I had a slight advantage in this clash.

“Ah, what a tragic fate this is!”

In the midst of this, the self-proclaimed Astolfo who had been knocked away charged back in, thrusting his lance like a drilling spear. He was on a trajectory to skewer both me and the old man like kebabs.

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

“Seriously…!”

The old man and I withdrew our weapons and stepped back in perfect unison. Had we continued our clash, we would have both been impaled by the lance.

In the distance that opened between us, the young man rushed in, stopped, looked up at the sky, and lamented in a voice full of grief.

“We haven’t even held the ceremony yet, and already my bride has eyes for another man. My heart feels as though it’s being torn to shreds!”

“Then let it tear! I won’t stop you!”

The nonsense never ceased.

I swung my sword while ignoring his words, and he parried my blade with his lance wrapped in destructive mana, all while continuing to spout disconnected nonsense.

After exchanging three or four blows in an instant, the old man who had retreated earlier rejoined the fray, swinging his greatsword.

“KYAAAH!”

“HAAAP!”

It was a formidable joint attack.

Each time the blackened blade grazed the ground, explosions of black flame erupted, burning my clothes, and the destructive mana wrapped around the lance shattered the scales of my winter armor wherever it touched.

“Step aside, old man! This would be polygamy!”

The self-proclaimed Astolfo began barking complaints about the old man’s intervention, but despite his words, his movements coordinated perfectly with the old man’s.

This must be what they mean when they say the body is honest even when the words are not.

The natural yet perfect coordination of those who have fought together for many years.

They complemented each other’s openings while maintaining relentless pressure, making it quite difficult for me to respond.

After enduring for several dozen seconds, the last knight, who had been knocked away and buried under debris, broke free and charged at me again.

“Tch, if you got hit and buried, you should just stay unconscious!”

This was becoming troublesome.

“Did you think I would fall so easily? You’ve greatly underestimated me!”

As the old saying goes, three weak ones together can subdue one strong one.

The one-on-one fight where I had a slight advantage became an even match at one against two, and now with three opponents, I was gradually being pushed back.

“Damn it, no choice…!”

In the end, I had no choice but to unleash the special techniques I had been saving until I could confirm all of my opponents’ cards.

I had wanted to conserve some strength in case these three weren’t the only enemies… but at this rate, I would be the one defeated.

◆◆

Of course, even unleashing my special techniques didn’t significantly change the situation.

“The Sword of Severance. An unblockable technique, but with obvious telegraphing and high consumption. Simply create distance and avoid it.”

The skill level of the three knights who had become serious was such that they could not only handle the spatial severance of my Sword of Severance…

– KAAAANG!

“So this acceleration ability is the true essence of your mental technique, not just an imitation.”

…but they could even respond to the time compression of Defying Fate as if it were nothing.

“No, it’s a bit different from acceleration. The essence seems to be a form of time interference… strange. Unlike acceleration, time interference shouldn’t increase the power of slashes.”

Heroic narrative that dramatically increases reaction speed, combined with the rune of acceleration and the rune of strength.

The red-haired knight, who had blocked my Defying Fate strike by simultaneously manifesting three types of power, asked as he was pushed back by the difference in strength.

Damn this bastard. Despite being knocked down by the first strike, he turned out to be the most troublesome once we actually fought.

Every time I manifested Defying Fate, he would accelerate to match it and block me, causing me to miss several opportunities to behead the other two.

“I never increased the power? I’m just naturally strong!”

I barely avoided the lance that thrust in opportunistically, deflected the greatsword that followed, and shouted as I brought Durandal down on the red-haired knight.

“This much difference in pure strength? You’re a monster…”

The red-haired knight muttered as he blocked my sword with his spear shaft.

“Ha, you’re just weak!”

As I added more force to our connected blades and pushed down harder, his kneecap hit the ground with the sound of breaking bones.

– PUEOK!

His crushed kneecap burst through flesh and protruded. For an ordinary person, it would have been a critical injury preventing them from ever walking again.

But…

[ ᛒ ] [ ᛜ ]

“Berkanan, Ingwaz.”

The moment the red-haired knight looked down at his knee and muttered these two words, the runes of recovery and vitality healed his body, replenishing his health and vitality.

He possessed four runes in total: strength, acceleration, recovery, and vitality. A combination similar to the enhancement miracles used by paladins.

Probably, he had chosen such a combination to compensate for physical abilities that were somewhat inferior to his high skill level.

Plain but truly efficient. Like a cockroach.

“Tch…!”

I clicked my tongue in frustration and stepped back.

I wanted to behead him before he completed his recovery, but the other two knights rushed in, leaving me no opportunity.

If the cost of killing one of the three was losing my arm or internal organs, wouldn’t that be an overwhelming loss for me?

Trading flesh for bone is a tactic only worth using when it guarantees victory. With two more powerful enemies, I might end up being filleted like sashimi.

“…Right. Come to think of it, there was such a monster eight hundred years ago as well.”

The red-haired knight, having instantly healed his knee, muttered as he rose. He claimed to have encountered someone with monstrous strength like mine before.

“A Ka’har with long black hair who brought crimson mist… a formidable enemy. Whether by coincidence or fate, you also have black hair.”

…Well, it’s probably not a coincidence. That was likely Hersella’s ancestor.

Abha Gisaka. The great sorcerer of the Heavenly Killing Star who called himself the Death of Heaven or something and interfered with the completion of Heaven’s Wall.

The monster from eight hundred years ago that the red-haired knight mentioned was probably referring to that person.

…Well, that’s assuming he really was one of the Great’s Twelve Knights.

“Pitch black, as if the darkness of mana has descended. A color that always appears gloomy, ominous, and utterly unpleasant.”

As soon as he rose, he lunged at me and thrust his spear fiercely like a lightning bolt.

With a face contorted as if the mere sight was unbearably unpleasant.

“Is it right to discriminate against people based on hair color?!”

A speed that couldn’t be countered without manifesting Defying Fate. I limited the manifestation range of Defying Fate to just Durandal’s blade as I parried his spear and shouted.

Unpleasant hair color? I was dumbfounded. He should look at his companions before saying such things.

To talk about my hair being ominous or unpleasant when he was in league with someone wrapped in dark mana.

I honestly found it absurd to hear such hypocrisy.