Let's rewind the hands of time.
"Alus the Star Runner… I can't believe it. You're…still alive!"
Psianop the Inexhaustible Stagnation, having analyzed Lucnoca the Winter's fight up until moments prior, was genuinely flabbergasted.
The ooze's amorphous body didn't appear to contain any organs that allowed him movement, let alone swift movement, yet he flew over the complex terrain at terrifying speeds. He fluidly adjusted his center of gravity, his agility resembling a flow of water with a mind of its own.
A sound that the howling winds nearly drowned out. A rumbling from the very core of the world.
Even this was enough for Psianop to comprehend the tremendous abnormality.
There was a battle underway at the Mali Wastes. One between two of the most frightening monsters in the land.
There were still over ten kilometers between Psianop and his destination. With his speed, it would take no time at all to cover that much ground.
Nevertheless, given the combatants, the outcome would be decided far before Psianop could intervene.
"Toroa the Awful… This was your intention from the very beginning, wasn't it…?!"
From the slightest ground tremors and air currents transmitted across the still wastes, he could predict a fight to the death in the bowels of the planet.
Ground Runner raced along the rock wall. It reversed course to appear behind Toroa. Wind, huh? Must have blocked it with the enchanted wind sword. But that was to give Alus an opportunity to act. Toroa is…
The fire rushed, the wind deflected it, and even high above on the surface, there was a faint change in the air pressure.
This conflict… If this is all supposed to be for revenge, then it is a fruitless endeavor.
There came a concussive blast.
An explosion of flame erupted from an earthen fissure far out on the horizon, as if part of an active volcano.
It was the technique Psianop had witnessed on that day. The secret enchanted sword technique combining Nel Tseu the Burning Blade with Mushain the Howling Blade, Gathering Clouds.
When he had looked at Toroa the Awful during their carriage ride, Psianop hadn't seen any hint of rage or hatred on the dwarf's face.
He had believed the man had successfully managed to escape from the spiral of shura killing each other in battle.
"Toroa the Awful! You…aren't supposed to fight…!"
I pierced his wing. I restrained one limb and severed another. I infected him with venomous ice crystals.
These weren't Toroa's thoughts. They were combat judgments that came in a flash, guided by his instincts.
I cut down the Greatshield of the Dead. He only has his musket and Wicked Sword Selfesk left. He can't use them at this range. He won't have the opportunity to change his equipment again.
Faster than his own instincts could process his next action, Toroa's moved to cut off Alus's head.
However, the Howling Blade's slash…
I missed…
…through the wyvern's skin severed his carotid artery and dug into the flesh beneath. He had felt the blow. Too shallow. It hadn't reached the bone.
Alus had moved—without using his wings, or his forelimbs—toward the
upper rock wall.
The wyvern's mouth quietly muttered. "Wicked Sword Selfesk…"
He applied magnetic force to the wedges embedded in the wall.
Toroa had understood he could evade attacks this way. More than that, it was a technique that Toroa the enchanted swordsman knew for himself. He had rejected the possibility because from that range, it would've been far too late to dodge.
"Why don't you die?" puzzled Toroa. "...Good question…" Alus replied. Cling, clank.
With an unpleasant creaking sound, his severed forelimbs, the nearly severed base of his wing, and his mostly severed neck had been replaced with microscopic machines, and they were slowly healing him.
Yet there was even more unbelievable development as well.
The crystals from the frostvenom blade, which had been eating at his body, had been burned away with fire, limb and all.
This was the reason he had sent Ground Runner ahead of him. With the flames behind him, Alus murmured.
"…Consider the source; take countermeasures."
The apex rogue's combat judgment showed no signs of decline at all.
The farther he was pushed into a corner, the more he learned, and the more he surpassed every tactic his enemies brought against him.
"Consider the source; take countermeasures." "…Ah, I get it now."
Alus the Star Runner was now immortal.
"I'm the same way… I'm trying to kill you even if I die in the process…"
Toroa was invoking the secret techniques of several enchanted swords with his entire body and soul.
He continued to battle in the depths of the frozen soil, hungrily clawing away at his opponent's life.
His enemy alone possessed a limitless life force.
"Wouldn't have been fair if you hadn't done the same, hm…?" However, right now, Toroa the Awful was truly perfect.
He had never felt stronger. This newfound strength was derived from something greater than a sense of obligation or thirst for revenge.
He was blessed with a mightier body than his father's. Toroa had never once
exhausted all his stamina. This was true even now.
"…This fight with you has been the most satisfying to date," Alus muttered. Even his melted forelimb was regenerating.
High in the sky, from where enchanted swords couldn't reach, he aimed his musket.
Was there any means for Toroa's attack to reach him?
His past opponent Psianop had seen through absolutely all of his enigmatic enchanted sword techniques and had demonstrated he could run up through the air without any footing. If he was going to kill Alus the Star Runner, Toroa would have to do the same.
"…It's been a long time, Toroa the Awful…"
These words must have come from the remnants of Alus's hazy consciousness.
Was that truly how he felt?
If so, that would make Toroa happy.
From here on, he was going to fight in a way that didn't resemble his father in the slightest.
"With all my swords, I'll cut you down." He took a long, deep breath.
Toroa the Awful stabbed into the ground with enchanted swords in both hands and both feet.
Like the limbs of an insect.
While he was receiving medical treatment after the first match, Toroa had spoken a lot with Cuneigh the Wanderer and Kuuro the Cautious. While they both said they felt indebted to him, Toroa felt he was the one who truly owed them his life, with them and the currently absent Mizial being the first friends he had ever made.
"…Do you think that some inanimate objects can think and feel, Kuuro?" "Where is this coming from?"
"That Clairvoyance of yours can perceive things ordinary folk like us can't even comprehend, right? I wondered, if that's how you perceive the world, maybe you could hear the voices of, like, a shoe, or a plate, or a sword."
"C'mon, you're talking crazy here."
Kuuro strained a smile, looking exasperated, and appeared to have interpreted
Toroa's words as a joke.
"Objects are objects. Of course, every sort of material out there can give off some odd bit of sound or light, and my Clairvoyance will grant me information on an object, such as what it is or where it is… But you're asking if I can hear the voices of objects?"
"Well, actually…I've heard a voice before." "…Oh?"
"It's true."
Could the idea of enchanted swords possessing wills of their own have been nothing more than a myth?
Toroa would be lying if he said he had never doubted it before.
In the middle of the first match, Toro the Awful had practically become possessed by his blades.
He surrendered his body to the influence flowing into him, becoming a mythical beast of slaughter.
However, if this was a concept that even Kuuro the Cautious couldn't comprehend, perhaps enchanted swords had never possessed wills of their own, and all of it had simply been the impulses Toroa himself contained from the very start.
They discussed it all with each other.
"That's totally not right!" Cuneigh objected, leaning her body forward from where she sat on the edge of the bed.
"I mean, you saved Kuuro back then, right?! There's no way that someone who saved someone else, when they were in the most danger of all, could be a bad person!"
"…That's not true. I'm a murderer."
He had killed the bandits who'd come to steal his enchanted swords. They were opponents he should have been able to incapacitate without killing. But the next time similar adversaries came along, he couldn't stop himself from taking their lives.
Above all, during his match, Toroa had fought with the intention of killing Psianop. The reason he was able to end the match without killing his opponent was because he hadn't known that Psianop was capable of using Life Arts that completely regenerated his body.
Psianop must have felt Toroa's bloodlust for himself, too. Even then, he had been able to settle the match without taking Toroa's life. It had been a total defeat for Toroa.
"Alus the Star Runner's dead, too. From here on, I won't need to fight in any battles with my enchanted blades… But I'm afraid that if a day comes when I need to wield them again, I may be overcome with the desire."
"Toroa, I've learned a great many things about the brain and its perceptions. I've investigated every avenue at my disposal for the sake of learning about my own power of Clairvoyance," Kuuro began. "There's apparently a nerve in the brain that serves as a behavioral mirror."
"A behavioral mirror?"
"This function allows one to understand the actions of another as if they were carrying out the actions themselves. Animal offspring will acquire their own patterns of behavior by imitating the actions of other members of their group. If one were to develop this nerve to an extreme degree…they might be able to intuit a first-time opponent's thought patterns as if they were their own, even faster than their mind could process, or grant one the ability to perfectly replicate a technique they'd seen only once before."
"Imitation. You're saying that's what's truly happening in those instances?" He recalled his battles against Mestelexil and Psianop.
They were powerful foes he had been unable to kill even after drawing out the near-limited potential of his enchanted blades.
Still, it was because of such opponents that Toroa had finally been able to experience a lengthy battle. He had been able to watch his opponent's fighting style from up close and imagine what their next move might be.
"…Hmm. It might be fine to express it as a kind of 'notion' or 'idea.' The basis for sympathy lies in imitation, after all. By constantly imagining what your opponent's thinking, you can understand what they're thinking and where their thoughts are going to lead them next."
"If that's your explanation, then what about the enchanted swords' voices?
Nerves can't explain that."
"I wonder. When it comes to sympathizing with magic items…there's a lot of uncertainty. For example, there are some that can be manipulated through the thoughts of the user alone. If these items had wills of their own, you'd definitely be able to pick up on that; that's for sure."
"…"
"Even putting that aside, you're able to read how you need to handle a sword, whether it's from its shape, or its center of gravity, to unleash its absolute maximum power. You might be subconsciously perceiving how the previous owners of the enchanted swords used them from the slightest frays of the sheath
or placement of the nicks on the blade. Maybe you're using that information to better understand the one who forged the blade and the ones who wielded it?"
"I'm not sure I'm even capable of something like that…"
"Or maybe, in a more direct way, you saw someone using the secret techniques of your enchanted swords before."
"..."
He wasn't Toroa the Awful.
Ultimately, he had been able to tell this truth to Mizial and Mizial only. "Toroa, kindness stems from having a great amount of empathy for beings
other than yourself. There's even the chance that an excessive amount of it will end up overwriting your own will. It's certainly a risky power to have, but…"
He could take the empathy that he'd been gifted for the sake of saving others and use it to kill them instead.
"Even my Clairvoyance can't see through the realm of the heart."
The enchanted sword mountain was moving.
Alus the Star Runner looked down on it with vague thoughts.
Treasure.
It was either an enemy protecting the treasure, or perhaps the treasure itself, and he would need to defeat his enemy to obtain this mountain of enchanted swords for himself. As he had always done.
"Wicked Sword…Selfesk."
He murmured the name of the enchanted sword in his hand. In response to Alus's thoughts, the countless shards began stabbing into the rock wall in a line. Come to think of it, there was once a time when he had hunted this enchanted sword.
He couldn't recall just how long ago it had been, but even back then, the enemy before him had gotten to it first.
"…Toroa the Awful."
He had mumbled the name several times at that point, but Alus wasn't aware of the fact.
Each time he traced his memories of enchanted swords, he would remember that this enemy of his was Toroa the Awful.
Whenever he traveled the skies in pursuit of treasure, Alus would try to take an enchanted sword for himself, yet the shadow of this man was always there.
The enchanted swords Alus the Star Runner managed to keep for himself numbered only two, Trembling Bird and Hillensingen the Luminous Blade.
And now… "…Toroa."
…he would have them all.
Without really knowing where he was, or even what he was doing, Alus had that alone as the only certainty in his mind.
Alus loaded his lightning bullet. "Give them…to me… Now…"
Like a drill from the heavens piercing the earth, lightning crashed down from the sky.
Light. Sound. Destruction.
The terrain crumbled and broke.
The phenomenon the magic bullet wrought was truly like lightning itself.
"Gngh, lrngh."
Alus heard the growl coming from above him.
His eyes beheld…the limbs of an insect? Mushain the Howling Blade. Vajgir the Frostvenom Blade. Nel Tseu the Burning Blade. Inrate the Sickle of Repose.
Spreading out the abnormal number of enchanted swords in a radial pattern, Toroa the Awful instantly reached his current position.
…An updraft…
Even through hazy thoughts, Alus the Star Runner's staggering amount of combat experience allowed him to understand the situation.
A tremendous air current was generated from the massive explosion that came in their last clash, erupting from the superheated depths to the frozen surface above. Riding that turbulent wind…and adjusting his trajectory with the Howling Blade, had he changed the topography of the land?
On top of it, the updraft continued to throw Alus the Star Runner's greatest asset, his flying ability, into disarray.
"Graaawl!"
Toroa's entire body twisted in midair, and he brought the explosive heat hurtling downward. The Burning Blade was out of control.
Explosion. Explosion. Explosion. Explosion.
The terrain was hollowed out. The sky burned. Destruction rained over the land like a meteor shower.
Alus's body contorted as he evaded the lethal heat wave.
The magnetic force of the Wicked Sword Selfesk could instantly pull Alus's
own body to the points where the metallic wedges were embedded in the cliff face. He had accounted for this.
Clinging to the wall, Alus was now able to line up a shot at Toroa from a stable position. After Toroa had jumped into the air, what came next was his descent. It was only natural.
"Ngh!"
A shock hit Alus's body. Wailsever. There was interference coming from the vibrations of the crystal blade.
His musket's aim strayed ever so slightly. Toroa continued his descent… " "
…and the trajectory of his fall changed in midair.
As if bounding through the air with some invisible force, occasionally kicking off the rock wall, he came for Alus like a flying insect of nightmare.
"Gwarrrrrrrrngh!" Counteraction.
Alus the Star Runner would have found it difficult to believe his eyes even if he had been fully lucid.
A long-range thrust and lunging slash with Divine Blade Ketelk.
Toroa, using the counteraction from the long-range attack, was kicking the stone wall while in midair. His bizarre emergence from moments ago similarly couldn't be explained merely by propelling himself up the wall with his kicks. Toroa had used this technique at the same time and gotten above Alus the Star Runner.
The enchanted swordsman was fighting a midair battle. It was abnormal.
Propelled by a beast-like instinct, he made rapid and simultaneous use of his magic swords' secret techniques.
"Gwar, hraaah!"
"Rotting Soil Su—"
Before he could make use of the magic item resembling a lump of mud, the Howling Blade's gale slammed Alus into the cliff. His bones shattered. Alus activated Wicked Sword Selfesk's magnetic force. He didn't move.
The arm gripping the sword's hilt was entangled by a chain.
This was Toroa the Awful's enchanted sword that autonomously pursued its target—Lance of Faima. It possessed the ability to release incredibly fast vibrations. With its chain wrapped around Alus's arm, the vibrations caused the metal to shred Alus's flesh away.
"Ha, ha-ha, gwa-ha ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Not unlike the wings of an insect, this was known as flapping.
While Alus held the Wicked Sword Selfesk in a mechanical arm, this enchanted sword's technique was more than enough to sever its structure and completely destroy it.
"Gwaaaarllll!"
As they descended together, Toroa bound Alus's neck with his chain, crushing it with a sneer.
Though it was only a second until they crashed to the ground, he managed to stab Alus at least four times with the Frostvenom Blade.
Even then, the blades of mud coming from behind them repeatedly stabbed into Toroa's upper arm and back, running him through until they pierced his stomach. As Toroa laughed, he coughed up an immense amount of blood. The binds on Alus loosened.
Rotting Soil Sun, which molded and shot bullets of hardened mud, was the magic item Alus had deployed with the intention of raining down death on Toroa as they fell together. Using his enemy's massive frame as a shield, Alus narrowly avoided the blindly fired metal blades.
"…Consider the source; take countermeasures." Riding the air current, he ascended once more.
Toroa the Awful continued to descend alone, spraying fresh blood as he went.
"There have been many others…who've risen over me before."