Matz and the others simply bowed their heads in sadness. They had known William since childhood. Most of them had gray hair on their heads, and the sad streaks in William's hair carried more sorrow than the sorrow on their faces at this moment.
William was no longer just a prince to them. He was a brother, a friend, family. Over the years, Albert had added hundreds of new blood to their group, but none of them had the warm blood and sorrowful heart of William. None of them were religious, but they all prayed silently for William from the bottom of their hearts. Matz even gave him his word that he would protect William for the rest of his life. He would work harder and stay by William's side no matter how much William grew in strength.
After taking a few steps forward, William approached the armored figure. "I wish to duel with you," he said, crossing his twin cavalry swords in front of him. He was a bit nervous and had begun to sweat. However, the cool air of the cave made his sweat cool as it left his body, cooling his skin in the process.
The armored figure did not react. He simply raised his longsword parallel to his body and took slow, deliberate steps forward. Each step sounded like the tread of an elephant to William's ears. He even felt as if the man's heartbeat was synchronized with his steps.
William didn't want to make the first move. He remained in a defensive stance, waiting for the man to make a move, wanting to gauge his opponent's strength.
Finally, the first attack came. The man took a step forward and swung his longsword downward as if to split William in two. William responded to this slow and lumbering attack by crossing his swords and shifting his lower body slightly to the side. If the man was as strong as they suspected, he would have to move aside quickly.
The sound of clashing swords filled the cave. Albert couldn't even remember the last time he heard a sword clash like that in all his years. The sound had a vibration that sent shivers down his spine and seemed to stop his heartbeat.
As the clash of swords continued, Albert felt like he was losing a year of his life with each stroke.
William realized that he had made the right decision. A voice inside him had told him that they had to face these men one on one, no matter what. The thought crossed his mind that the bodies in the cave had attacked this man together, and now he had proven his deductions correct. The man's strength matched his own perfectly. William had the chance to see the man's sword up close, and he realized that it was far superior to his own. However, his sword had managed to withstand the man's sword. This meant that the armored man was holding back his full power.
As the swords continued to clash, William began his dance. He moved around the man like a bee circling its target. His twin swords darted in and out of the gaps in the man's armor, probing his weaknesses and even testing the toughness of his flesh.
Despite the man's strength, he couldn't keep up with William's speed. This made William feel like he was facing Albert again. The man before him was definitely not ordinary, just like Albert. He had to defeat him, the only milestone that could temporarily interrupt his training. In an instant, the armored man's head turned into Albert's in William's eyes. He resembled an old, but attentive, experienced mountain that solved things.
No matter where William attacked from, Albert's eyes were connected to his. None of his attacks escaped Albert's gaze, and each was met with a single longsword in response.
He attacked, attacked, and attacked relentlessly, ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times. His swords seemed so crooked and jagged as he swung them that they looked more like whips than swords.
At times, his thumb and forefinger trembled without recoiling, and even as the skin between them slowly began to open and bleed, William continued his attack. Slowly but surely, a bright but blackened light began to appear in the depths of William's mind.
Unknown to him, his eyebrows were furrowed, and behind them, perhaps a significant factor was the love he felt for his grandfather, but also the stern countenance his grandfather had shown him, as unyielding as the castle gates.
William had not been able to surpass Albert, the great warrior, for years. Albert, who had spent years as a knight riding from battle to battle and surviving thousands of duels, was not someone to be surpassed in a few short years. But William believed in himself. He knew that he, too, was descended from Albert's blood, and throughout his childhood, he had received training that proved his abilities. So far, he had been able to defeat many formidable figures, even those who could be considered elite soldiers in battle. He wasn't sure if his primary target was Albert, but in his eyes, Albert had grown in stature.
The steep and impassable mountains of the north looked like Albert to William at that moment. These unfamiliar mountains, he was sure, left him with a feeling similar to facing Albert in battle.
William was running out of steam. The armored man, on the other hand, continued to attack with the same strength and speed without pausing. It was as if he were not alive and could fight for years. William couldn't help but think about that. Perhaps in a moment, he would fall, exhausted, and the armored man would plunge his sword through his neck. But at that moment, he remembered a book that Albert had told him about and that he had read later.
The Life of the Demon. This book was written by Pope Joel Hengsbach, the leader of the Enlightenment Church, five hundred years ago. The book has been read by almost every educated person today.
The beginning of the book went like this: "God wanted to punish us because we, His servants, had made great, irreversible mistakes. Then He showed us a way. To repent, to be forgiven, and to protect our future generations. This was to kill the Demon sent by God Himself."
The endless, intimidating, yet reassuring words in this introduction were written so that people would understand something. That something was the subject, the name mentioned in the book.
'Demon.' Even the Pope referred to it by that name in his book. Only in one paragraph did the true name of this 'demon' appear.
"Duke Reiner Detmond gave his full support, to Ulrich. In the background, however, an army of dozens of families slowly began to take shape." You won't find the name Ulrich on any child. For five hundred years this name, once very popular, had been forbidden. The reason for this was that the pope had accidentally written his real name here when he spoke of 'demon' in his book.
"Stone spoke with the voice of God, but the thoughts came from the demon. Every temptation whispered in his ear drove him to do more evil. One day, when we faced our greatest problem, an immortal army appeared at our doorstep. No matter what we did, they wouldn't die, they kept fighting. The only way to get rid of them was to shred their limbs and immobilize them. These living dead were the crystallization of his deepest hatred and evil thoughts," the Pope had said. Throughout the book, he had poured out his rage against Ulrich, and finally, with this book, he has almost erased him from the history of the world.
What came to William's mind was that last paragraph: "The only way to get rid of them was to break their limbs and immobilize them." He had stabbed his limbs a few times with his twin swords, but apart from a brittle sensation, he had received neither blood nor any reaction from the armored figure. He was getting tired, and he felt that after a few more moves, death would be knocking at his door.
No matter what he tried, he wouldn't be able to defeat a mountain like Albert. Besides, he had fantasized about defeating the most powerful sword masters in the empire. Was this how he would win? Was this how he would reclaim what was rightfully his? Was this how he would get his revenge? William succumbed to his rage. Thick veins appeared beneath the white hair that clung to his forehead. His face flushed and an involuntary dark smile appeared on his lips. He took a step back and bent down, lowering his legs as much as he could. At that moment, the armored figure's longsword struck the hard cave floor right in front of William, sending several pieces of debris flying into the air.
Then William jumped. With all his might, in a way he had never done before, giving everything, staking his life on it, he leaped. His twin blades crossed, resembling a pair of scissors. Crossing the two meters of the longsword's reach was shorter than the blink of an eye. The twin blades locked onto the armored figure's neck simultaneously, and William pushed with all his might.
It felt like cutting through a bale of straw, and they both fell backward. William couldn't stand it any longer, and he had to let go of his beloved twin blades, which had shattered between his index and middle fingers during the attack. He wasn't even sure if his attack had been successful. He fell to the side and looked up at the top of the cave, unable to move on his back. His eyes dimmed as he gazed at the lights reflected on the cave ceiling and the dreamlike, mystical feeling they created. He was in awe, feeling as if he had found peace as if he had been liberated. He could describe that peace in that moment with a single word - death.