A quiet cutting sound. Red blood drops bouncing.
Lac Van Grace saw.
The gate being cut at an angle, the line drawn on Natida’s body standing on the other side of the gate. Lark saw blood gushing out along the direction of the line. He had to see it.
Throwing in.
Natida’s priest’s clothes were dyed red.
Natida’s body slowly fell forward along with a gush of blood. Clothes stained red. Blood flowing down. Natty is lying down and not moving.
In the long stretch of time, what comes to Lark’s mind at this moment is the scenery of that day.
So many warriors who faced death in front of me. The sight of brothers lying bleeding. The faces of those he had been unable to protect flashed before Lark’s eyes. It was the same then as it is now.
What was not kept. Blood flowing down.
And, the beast at the end.
Lark’s head turned.
The person whose red, bloodshot eyes are staring at is the King of Demon Beasts, who is still in the same position as he was swinging his sword. The same blue eyes as that day. The Demon Beast King was also looking at Lark.
Their gazes cross. Each recognizes the other’s existence.
At that moment, the sound of something snapping resonated in Lark’s head. The holy sword that Lark was holding shook violently. The shaking image of the holy sword splits into several pieces and comes back together again and again.
Barta, Barta, the king of demonic beasts.
Heating.
Steam escaped from the corner of Lark’s mouth.
Lark kicked the ground and rushed towards the target that must be killed. Faster than ever.
* * *
Kaaaaaaaaaaaa!
The moment Lark’s sword and Barta’s sword collided, a loud noise rang out. Kalt gritted his teeth as the ground shook and the remains of the canyon bounced around.
‘···Damn it.’
Kalt swung his sword in sync with Lark’s frantic movements. He filled in Lark’s gap and slightly twisted the trajectory of the sword wielded by the King of Demonic Beasts.
Kang, kagagagak!
Although the battle continues somehow, Kalt knows. It can’t continue forever. The fact is that he will never be able to hold on to victory like this.
Pushed, over and over again.
Power, swordsmanship, and physical ability are all lacking. Kalt was looking at a fragment of the sword of death from the king of demonic beasts in front of him.
‘···Every time I swing, the space creaks. The ground is being dug up and the air is shaking.’
It’s not just about pushing with force.
If I were a mere beast that I encountered in the apostate’s workshop, I might have a chance of winning, but now that I am wielding a sword and using my skills… I don’t think I can defeat that magical beast.
That’s not a witch.
He is a superhuman who broke down walls and a swordsman who sees the future and acts accordingly.
Kalt felt that the future, just a few seconds after his vision, was constantly changing. The only thing you can trust at this moment is your intuition. but···.
“······.”
Kalt looked at Lark in silence.
Lark has grown, definitely.
A boy who stood out since he was a student… has now reached the perfect track. He is clearly a superhuman, and the curve of his growth is steep.
‘Even at this moment…’
The speed at which the King of Demonic Beasts swings his sword becomes faster and faster, and Lark is keeping up with it. Acceleration through heating. Movement using mana. Utilization of auxiliary weapons to bridge the gap between sword strikes and sword attacks. I’m using everything I can to catch up.
Young people are growing up. Steeply.
Natural talent, intuition, specificity, growth rate.
Kalt valued it at 1,000,000.
This is Kalt, who has lived on the battlefield for a long time. Kalt knew well that not all human lives have equal value. He had to choose according to the time.
Kuuk.
Kalt grabbed the hilt of his sword.
With his wide vision, Kalt understood the battlefield. Terrain, escape route, possibility, and… the fallen Natty. Natida has not stopped breathing yet.
It’s probably because the gate served as a shield.
The full power of the sword strike was not conveyed to Natida, who was standing behind the gate. Although it was the fatal wound that led to her death, Natida is a saint. Considering the unique nature of a saint’s resilience, she may be able to survive.
···What should I choose?
Kang, kaang!
Kalt thinks as he swings his sword.
To save everyone without abandoning anyone.
People who can do that are called heroes. Kalt knows such a hero. He has been by my side and assisting me for a long time. So, Kalt also knows.
The fact that he can’t be that kind of hero.
Kalt is not an absolute powerhouse.
To save something, you have to give up something.
‘What do I have to give up? What you have to choose is.’
Kalt weighed the value of life. When Kalt’s own life and Raak’s life were placed on the scale, the scales tipped in Raak’s favor.
It’s natural.
Kalt is a sword master. Nothing special.
Although personnel can be replaced from time to time, this is not the case for Lac Van Grace. Lark, who held the first holy sword and possesses special powers, is a force that cannot be replaced by anything.
So, if there is something I need to throw away here…
‘That’s right.’
Kalt let out a laugh.
Judgment is complete.
Kalt made a choice.
2.
Lark felt his arms creaking.
——————
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The fingers holding the sword shook. Some fingers were broken, some muscles were torn. Every time the swords clashed, a part of the body was torn or burst, causing blood to flow.
The moment when Lark stumbled due to accumulated injuries.
The moment when the tip of Lark’s sword shook.
The Demon Beast King’s eyes flashed blue.
Barta exposes his fangs to the prey that finds an opportunity. With a moment of acceleration, Varta’s sword kicked away Lark’s sword. Kaaaaang! Lark’s sword was raised into the sky with a sound.
What you see is a gap.
Coo! And Barta hit the ground with his foot.
The ground shook, Lark’s posture completely collapsed, and Barta’s fingers clenched as he clutched the hilt of the sword. At that moment, Lark saw.
What you see is the future a few seconds later.
The Varta in front of you splits into several images. The moment the split images overlapped, a guillotine fell from the sky. My vision turned red.
The future I see is death.
Lark twisted his body to try to escape from death, but Barta’s sword moved as if chasing him. approaching death. In the end, this was the moment when Lark decided to give up one of his arms.
A silver-white trail intervened in the future.
Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
The one who got in front of Lark was Kalt.
The moment he received the huge greatsword, blood flowed from Kalt’s eyes, nose, and mouth. A handful of blood bursting out. What resonates is the sound of bones breaking and muscles tearing.
“———!”
Letting out a scream, Kalt twists his sword.
I finally let go of Barta’s blow. The sword strike that was trying to tear apart Lark’s body hit the ground. With a roar, the ground shook and piles of stones rose into the sky.
Thus, the gap created.
But Kalt does not choose to attack.
Kalt reached back and grabbed Rak’s neck. Kalt looked back and smiled.
“Run away, Lark.”
Just like that, Kalt threw away Lark.
Head towards the direction where Natida fell. Lark looked at Kalt with his eyes wide open. Immediately after throwing away Lark, Kalt took a step towards Barta.
And, Barta.
“Are you interfering with the duel?”
I narrowed my eyes and looked down at Kalt.
From the beginning, the only enemy that Barta stared at was Lark. For Barta, the people in front of him were nothing more than an obstacle. It’s an obstacle that can be removed right away if you put your mind to it.
“Get out of the way. “It’s a stumbling block.”
Barta swung his sword.
A sword strike that is more than enough to kill a seemingly defenseless swordsman in front of him. It was the moment when I was about to remove the obstacle and move towards my match.
Kagagagak.
The trajectory of Barta’s sword was twisted.
The tip of the twisted sword was not the person in front of me, but the ground. The moment the sword sticks in the ground, coo! And the weight of something was added on top of the sword.
While trampling Varta’s sword on the ground with his boots, Kalt swung his sword. The sword, which traced a silver-white path, scratched Barta’s shoulder.
Fit.
The wound is thin. But for the first time immediately after the battle, Barta bled. At best, it’s just one or two drops of blood.
“······.”
Barta looked back at Kalt without saying a word.
Gaze into human eyes. A person who thought he was nothing more than an obstacle. That human sword touched me. What Barta feels at that moment is not discomfort.
Quite the opposite.
Barta is intrigued. To the prosecutor in front of me.
Kalt took a step back, and Barta slowly drew his sword. He stared at the swordsman who raised his sword towards him.
“name is.”
The King of Demon Beasts asked a question.
The human answered the king’s question.
“Kalt.”
Kalt lightly shook his sword.
“I’m a prosecutor.”
Barta straightens his posture without saying a word.
Kalt also takes a stance. What the two prosecutors foresee is each other’s future. Kalt let out a long breath as he chased after the future.
A moment of silence.
It was Kalt who broke the silence first.
Kalt dug into Varta. The movement is not fast. It’s not as violent as Rak’s, nor is it overwhelming like Barta’s movements. human speed. human movement.
Huh.
Barta’s movements, as he swung his sword belatedly, overwhelmed Kalt. Without even following the sudden wave of sword strikes, Kalt took a step forward.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga!
The tip of Kalt’s sword pierced the hole in Varta’s great sword. At that moment, Kalt lowered his posture and swung his waist, arms, and sword.
Following the sword path drawn by the silver-white blade, which is small and dwarfed by the great sword, the trajectory of the great sword is reversed.
What the sword scratched was not Calt, but a side of a canyon far away. With a loud sound, one side of the canyon split at an angle and began to fall. The ground trembles with a thudding sound.
“Wow!” Barta opened his mouth.
What comes out of the open mouth is the sound of laughter. Barta pondered the sword strike that Kalt showed a moment ago. What Kalt showed was an accurate prediction. It is an extremely precise sword attack that comes from accurate prediction.
The direction in which the sword is swung, the force at the tip of the sword, and the trajectory the sword draws. The swordsman in front of me calculated everything accurately and only twisted the trajectory.
That means this.
It means that the future that that prosecutor foresees is more sophisticated than what Barta himself sees. I don’t know how that is possible. Barta is delighted with the unknown before his eyes. And Kalt…
Patter.
He vomited out a handful of blood.
Kalt let out a shaky breath. There is no way that a stunt like the one just was performed without any consequences. He looked like he was going to collapse at any moment, but Kalt gritted his teeth and glared right in front of him. Death comes again.
The approaching great sword.
Kalt gritted his teeth in the face of death.
3.
Run away, Lark.
Kalt made a choice and Rak understood what that choice meant. Raq lifted up Natida’s fallen body and put her on his back and looked back.
“Suddenly,” Lark gritted his teeth.
My steps don’t fall.
I want to join there. I want to help Kalt. I don’t want to let that person, whom I have been indebted to since I was a student, die. However, Lark knows that shouldn’t be the case.
There is no chance of winning.
The choice Kalt made was right.
Rushing towards that situation in this situation without any alternative is an act of trampling on Kalt’s resolve. It’s a path that leads to everyone’s death. Lark felt his back getting wet with the blood that Natida had spilled. At the same time, Natida’s rapid breathing also rang in my ears.
It’s not just my life that rests on my shoulders.
I have to lose it again.
Because it is weak, because it is helpless, it must be taken away by that damn beast. Blood flows from my tightly bitten lips. Ultimately, this is the moment when Rak turns his back on Kalt.
“Stop… dance.”
Natida’s voice reached Rak’s ears.
A thin voice. A voice that seems like it will break at any moment. Lark turned his head and met Natida’s eyes. The usual sunken eyes were not there.
Eyes with a strange glow.
These are not ordinary human eyes. Even more so, it is not even possible for a superhuman to see the future just a few seconds from now. God’s eyes look into the distant future. Eyes that seem to be possessed by a god.
“me.”
The prophet whispered to the human.
“Take me there.”
Natida raised her arms.
The tip of the trembling finger is pointed at the sword stuck in the center of the canyon. The sword of death, a great sword that is the symbol of Ganicalt.
“hurry.”
The prophet pointed to death.
fantasy,
