Sword Pilgrim

“You sound quite fired up, but what the hell can a piece of trash like you even do in this situation? Or do you think I haven’t got any idea about your skills?"

"Oh?"

“I heard from Lutheon, who’s fought with you before. He said you aren’t even at half his level.”

Less than half as strong as that guy?

Hell, that might’ve been appropriate at that time.

The strength of your weapon would inevitably be included in the measure of your strength.

“Do you think I’m weaker than that kid?”

“I know you aren’t.”

“Then why do this, when you know you’re coming to your own execution?”

“Because even if you’re favoured by Lactus because of your betrayal –”

There was no avoiding God's punishment.

‘Valtherus is not some pushover.'

Why was Callius so devoted to the cause of a crumbling country?

Because of the God of the Sword.

Among all the gods, Valtherus’ punishment could be called the deadliest.

“Have you cut off your right arm already?”

“…”

Alhamtra bit his lip.

He only had a spear in his left hand.

His right hand was hidden under his robe, but Callius could already guess that it was missing.

Valtherus' divine punishment was necrosis.

Your most frequently used body part would undergo necrosis, and it won’t stop there.

If left alone, the whole body would become necrotic and you would die, so there was no choice but to cut the damaged area off.

This man had been a priest all his life.

Lutheon, who’d turned his coat at an early age, also must’ve lost a finger or two to necrosis.

But somebody at the level of, say, the orc general or the archbishop, would have to hand over at least an arm.

Losing an arm, to someone who’d been wielding a weapon all their life, was the same as losing everything.

Alhamtra had already lost his right arm.

‘This is good enough.'

The traitor must’ve prepared for even this in advance.

He didn’t suddenly turn traitor one day without any forethought.

But he still wouldn’t be able to show his true skill.

“Count, the archbishop is strong.”

"I know that."

The bastard was strong.

He hadn’t become an archbishop for no reason.

So Callius couldn’t let the fight drag on.

‘I’ll have to put my all into it from the start.'

Callius deflected the incoming spear and swung his sword in a cross cut.

Claaaang-!

Although it was easily blocked.

Simultaneously, Callius pivoted on his feet, grabbed a frost-white sword with his other hand and made another horizontal cut.

That, too, was blocked.

“With that kind of skill… what?!"

Alhamtra’s only remaining hand began freezing up, along with his spear. Startled, he gathered his divine power and brushed it off, causing Callius' eyebrows to twitch.

The purity of his divine power was quite… remarkable.

‘In purty alone it’s between first and second grade.'

That kind of purity was the domain of the Masters, so the former archbishop could be said to be incredibly skilled in this aspect.

But Callius knew his divine power hadn’t been so pure before this.

Originally, he’d probably hovered somewhere between second and third grade.

It was probably his apostasy that had ramped up the purity.

‘His vessel was emptied and then filled back up, after all.'

Perhaps Callius should say, as expected of the archbishop?

He was worthy of his rank.

‘But this is within the expected range.'

Whiiiish.

Boom, clang!

As Callius took out the Blue Thunderbolt Sword and threw it, thunder resounded and azure lightning bolts flew everywhere.

The archbishop's eyes widened, and he escaped into the air, stepping on the floating rocks.

Crackackackack!!

As lightning struck and was deflected by the True Demon Spear, Callius was already rushing towards him.

Silver Flower Wave Sword – Raging Flower Wave.

A cold breeze of petals dyed with pure white chill pounced at the archbishop.

Crackackack!

"It’s useless!"

A quick swing of the spear swept the petals away to all directions.

The power of Raging Flower Wave was no match for the dark red demonic magic emanated by the spear.

However, just at that moment, a pure white burst of energy surged from under the archbishop’s feet and attacked him without mercy.

Silver Flower Wave Sword – White Haze.

The archbishop, face contorted, strengthened his grip on the spear by his side, wondering if he should try and release even more of the ominous demonic power.

Strength entered his muscles, making them swell.

“First Tune.”

With a low chant, he thrust his spear forward.

Screeech! Thoooom!!

The spear pierced through space at a single point, and the aftershocks quickly encompassed the whole area.

Raging Flower Wave and White Haze trembled as if a hole had been blown through them, and the archbishop's face paled to a pasty white colour.

However, Callius had vanished.

That was then.

An ominous premonition made the archbishop jerk his head up towards the ceiling.

Callius’ sword was chopping down.

“Ugh!”

Puff-!

Callius slammed down Dirge with both hands. Claaang! Along with the sound, a hazy chill spread in all directions.

Facing him was the archbishop who’d managed to block his blow.

Callius raised his left hand above his head.

Thud.

“!”

The Blue Thunderbolt Sword that’d been thrown into the sky –

Once again spat out bolts of blue lightning.

Craackkkklllee!!

The True Demon Spear blocked the thunderbolts, but not Dirge.

The archbishop twisted his body as hard as he could, with the determination to exchange injury for survival.

But then –

Callius' lips curved up slightly at the corners. The archbishop reacted quickly and dodged, but the Sword of Sorrow still caught his side with a shallow cut.

It was perhaps only a small scratch.

But that didn’t trivialize its impact.

Crummppppptt!

“U-ugh!”

The slight wound suddenly burst with a bizarre repulsive force.

The archbishop's blood and flesh sprayed into the air like some strange imitation of a flower blooming.

Silver Flower Wave Sword – Other Shore Flower.

“Damn it!”

As if he’d been bitten by a venomous beast, the archbishop grabbed his torn side, his body already covered in cold sweat.

“Apostasy has a great price, doesn't it?”

Callius threw Dirge at the archbishop.

Although the man twisted his body to avoid it, the sword became lodged in the floating rock he was standing on.

The archbishop, who’d been wondering why Callius had thrown away his sword, immediately fled when he realized that the ground under him was starting to freeze.

“Don’t go!”

But Callius began throwing lightning bolts one after another in a bid to not let him escape.

Claaang-!!

Callius’ sword flew once again through the scattered stone fragments.

“Crazy!”

The reckless idiot kept throwing away his sword!

That was practically begging to be put down.

The archbishop, deflecting the Blue Thunderbolt Sword with a slash of his spear, found that Callius was already charging at him, holding another sword two-handed.

‘Where the hell is he getting the swords from?'

However, there was no time for doubt.

It continued like that.

A series of actions that left the archbishop no breathing room.

If he blocked the lightning, his body would freeze, and if he broke the ice, the lightning would stun him.

And it didn’t end with just that.

“Ugh!”

What kind of sword was it, that whenever he got the slightest scratch, his body started feeling heavy? Alhamtra was struggling to move as if a strong force was pressing down on him.

Every time he got hit by that sword –

Crummppppptt!

“Aaaaaaah!”

The wound exploded from within.

“You’re tough. Are you wearing some kind of relic armour? Or is this from pure training?”

The archbishop didn’t answer.

Instead, he shrugged off his torn robes, coughing up some blood in the process.

Cradling his missing right arm close, he took a pose with his legs spread apart.

Suddenly, an ominous magic surged from the True Demon Spear, sweeping around him and plunging into where his limb had been severed.

Puff!

The archbishop's face became paler as he coughed up the blood he’d been holding down.

But despite that, he now held the spear with two hands instead of one.

His new, dark red right arm pulsated as it held the spear.

‘True Demon Spear.'

He was using it freely.

The worst of weapons, crafted from the soul and body of a fallen, a true demon.

The archbishop's bare body was now adorned with crisscrossing thin crimson lines that ran along his veins, as if he’d suddenly gotten a full-body tattoo.

“For somebody who wants to annihilate all the demons, you’re pretty free with using the power of a true demon.”

“You know nothing. How could you? How I feel as I’m about to destroy Carpe…!”

But Callius knew. And therefore –

"I’m not really interested."

In any case, the archbishop had to die.

There was no other way.

“Using that weapon, you’re bound to get addicted to demonic magic and lose your life. Tell me, does it scare you?”

“If I were afraid of something like that, I wouldn’t have taken up this spear in the first place.”

Did that mean he didn't care about his own life anymore?

It made sense. He needed to have at least that much guts to do something this crazy.

Callius raised the Tyrant Sword and aimed at Alhamtra.

"Alright, then."

I’ll take your life, as you wish.

The powerless queen could only watch the battles of the knights.

The Guardian Sword that protected the kingdom, versus the Ghost Spear of the empire.

Callius of Jervain who suddenly appeared, versus the former archbishop, Alhamtra.

The battle between the Guardian Sword and the Ghost Spear was truly incomprehensible to her.

Victor's sword that’d been pointing downwards was suddenly floating somewhere else in the air; and the Ghost Spear’s weapon had also stabbed downwards, but when she observed again, several spearheads were emerging out of another point in space.

If one cut at this side, the blade came out from the other side.

If one stabbed somewhere, the point emerged and attacked from another side elsewhere.

It was a battle that couldn't possibly be interpreted by the queen’s common sense, so it was impossible to know who was winning.

However, the battle between the count and the archbishop was understandable even at her level.

‘The count has a bit of an edge.'

Originally, knowing the archbishop's abilities, she’d thought that the count would be at a disadvantage, but that’d been a mistake.

One side was an apostate.

It was only natural that he wasn’t as familiar with the spear as the sword he’d held all his life.

‘And him missing an arm due to divine punishment is another big factor!'

The biggest issue was the lack of one arm. If one wielded a spear instead of a sword, lacking an arm had a huge impact.

The archbishop was taking more and more damage.

As she watched on, her palms slick with nervous sweat, the count seemed to be dominating.

How could he be so strong?

She’d heard that he used the swordsmanship of a saint, but the way he fought looked much too flashy.

There were bolts upon bolts of blue lightning everywhere, and the whole place was inundated with ice that froze you at the lightest touch.

Sword energies shaped like petals fluttered from time to time, and even when the enemy only took a tiny wound, suddenly blood would splatter.

Each time, the archbishop’s blood and flesh would burst in the shape of a blooming flower. It was a very beautiful, and very cruel, sword art.

And not just that, the way the count was using his many swords, putting them away somewhere and taking them out as he wished, was giving the archbishop a really hard time.

The queen didn't know where the swords were coming from, but she could easily guess that it was some kind of an artifact.

At this rate, the victory seemed to inevitably belong to the count.

The queen unconsciously grabbed the hilt from her waist.

‘I want to help, too.'

How long had she stayed frightened like this?

It was terrifying to only be protected. Her hand that held the sword clutched the hilt tight.

Still, her feet didn’t move.

Her lacking swordsmanship and precarious position bound her feet to the floor.

Even if she tried to help, she’d only be a hindrance, and if she got injured or killed, the efforts of the count and all her knights would be in vain.

So she had to be patient.

Don’t forget yourself. Don’t forget your position. Endure, again and again.

Because that was the weight of her throne. That was how heavy her crown lay upon her brow.

"Please…”

This time, too, let us be victorious.

Once the bastard wielding the slimy, sinister spear got back his right hand, he immediately showed his skills.

He spun the spear, and with a twirl, deflected every cut of Callius’ swords.

The hasty stabs became sharp, and the awkward swings became precise enough to make the skin tingle.

And on top of that –

“Tch.”

Splash!

Callius clicked his tongue, avoiding the spray of viscous liquid that splatered on the floor.

The crimson sludge dwelling inside the True Demon Spear could shift its shape as if it were alive, and periodically jumped out of the spearhead to attack him, but because there was no pattern to its movements, Callius had no way to anticipate it in advance.

Besides, the way of the spear was to keep one’s distance from the enemy and maintain that range as you attack.

Callius had never fought a strong spear expert before, so it was difficult to get close to his opponent once he started to use his two-handed spear properly.

“Don’t worry. Once I kill you, I’ll turn you into a spear and make good use of you.”

As if he’d noticed this fact, a smirk appeared on Alhamtra's face.

But Callius didn’t rise to the bait and kept analyzing his enemy with a cold expression.

‘Still, he can’t really be called proficient with his spear.'

He didn't seem too used to using his unique abilities.

Meaning Callius had a chance.

“My apologies, then.”

“What?”

“I don’t plan to turn you into a sword. I don't need such a weak sword."

It was time to end it.

Callius couldn’t let this drag on any longer.

"Cheeky!"

Claaaang-!

The sword’s edge scraped against the spearhead, and brilliant sparks fluttered from the point of contact.

At the same time, Callius' left hand grabbed at the air and pulled out the Tyrant Sword.

Thoom-!

A gravitational field unfolded in an instant.

The range compressed in the next breath.

Flinch.

Burdened with a massive weight, the archbishop couldn’t dodge as the Sword of Sorrow pierced at his feet.

Snikt!

“Ugh!”

But although the archbishop's feet were frozen in that white chill, his spear was still aiming unerringly at Callius’ head.

Whooosh–!

Strands of hair fluttered in the air as they were severed, and a cut opened up on his cheek.

Thud!

With a strong step forward, Callius twisted his body, simultaneously pulling out the Blue Thunderbolt Sword.

“Damn it!”

Screeeech!

A blue thunderbolt tore through the air with a tearing sound, but the crimson tentacles of the True Demon Spear didn’t let it hit.

Whoosh.

With a sneering smirk, Callius let go of the Blue Thunderbolt Sword and took out the Judgment Sword.

"What!"

Alhamtra tried to swing his spear again, but it was already too late.

The Judgment Sword has already come close, along with the dangerous sword spirit that dwelled within it.

“Rip and tear.”

Slaaaaash!

As Callius went past, he left a deep wound behind on the archbishop’s chest, followed by the subdued sound of an explosion.

“Ugh…!!”

Thud.

The body of the archbishop collapsed to its knees with a dull noise.

The spear dropped from his hand.

As the heavy spear’s hilt rolled on the floor, the black tattoos on his body began to disappear. But the man who looked like he had almost no trace of life left, unexpectedly burst into laughter.

“Ka ha ha!”

“What’s so funny?”

“I lost this duel. I admit it. But the final victory in this battlefield will still be mine.”

Whooosh-!

A violent wave passed through the area like a sharp wind.

“…!!”

A strong, pulsing, beating sound.

A gigantic aura that stung at the skin like sharp needles.

“Beware the gleaming teeth of the Bright Lunatic[1], Jervain’s wolf. He’s coming for your throat!”

A warning bell rang through Callius’ whole body in an instant.

Instinctive Intuition made him move.

Swish.

Craaaaaaaackkkkkk!!

Along with a terrifying roar, it was as if a dragon’s claws were tearing through the sanctuary.

– Grrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh.

All of a sudden, in front of Callius –

Was Carpe’s Bright Lunatic, bloody tears dripping from his eyes.

The Mad Prince, holding a sword.

Editor's Notes:

[1] ?? (狂子) as per the author. 狂子 means madman, where ?? can be taken to mean shining man. ? is also the character used in the name of the Light Dragon Sword that drove the prince mad. Since the prince is from the Bright family, translating this as the Bright Lunatic.

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