“Sorry, but I need you to die, penal hero. You’re used to that, right?”
There seemed to be genuine pity in his voice, but it was underlaid with unshakable conviction. His longsword blurred into a cyclone of steel, each stroke driving Xylo even farther backward until there was so little distance between them that even Zatte Finde would be utterly ineffective. What’s more, Xylo would need to regain his footing before he could use his flight seal to escape.
“Xylo!” cried Teoritta. She was shaking, her right hand outstretched.
That was only natural, however. Goddesses couldn’t use their powers to hurt humans.
Patausche spurred her horse forward. If she could just slip in between Xylo and that man… “Don’t, Goddess Teoritta. Allow me to handle this.”
“But…!” Teoritta’s face was ashen as she desperately tried to channel her power, tiny sparks dancing at her fingertips.
Although Xylo was desperately rolling, there was no way he could keep dodging the master swordsman’s attacks. Adelat Fuzer moved with terrifying precision, his blade spinning in a dizzying arc. He was wielding his two-handed sword single-handedly, as though it were weightless.
Patausche rushed as quickly as she could to intervene, but there was clearly no way she would make it in time.
Almost there…! Just a little farther…!
One coblyn could still move. Sliced in half by Teoritta’s sword, it managed to hop on its remaining leg, lunging at Patausche and causing her horse to rear in fright. She was forced to swing her spear, activating its seal of protection to cover Teoritta.
“Niskeph!”
An azure ray of light blasted away the coblyn, sending it tumbling through the air. But Xylo was now cornered against a wall, with Patausche too far away to help. Adelat Fuzer’s blade flashed through the air, narrowly grazing the edge of Xylo’s dark cloak.
“Goddess Teoritta! You mustn’t!” Patausche shouted.
“But…I must protect him…even if…” The goddess’s sparks grew brighter as still more bogies began to rain down from above the workshop, leaving Patausche with little choice but to cut them down. “Even if I must hurt someone…”
It was clear that Teoritta was pushing herself beyond her limits. Something was going to happen—something irreversible—if Patausche didn’t stop her.
“No, Goddess Teoritta! Don’t—!”
“Heh.” A lighthearted, goofy laugh echoed through the street. “Heh-heh-heh! Ha-ha-ha-ha! If you need someone hurt, then…”
Cornered against the wall, Xylo ripped off his dark cloak… Or rather, a man dressed like him did, revealing a goofy smirk and slightly faded golden locks. It was Tsav. It had been him running from the enemy this whole time.
“Allow me, Teo,” he said. “I’m way better at this than you.”
The discarded cloak obscured Adelat Fuzer’s vision, its hem catching the tip of his longsword. The sudden realization that the man before him was an imposter had stunned him, leaving him momentarily disoriented and wide-open.
He’s using his cloak, like in a duel!
Patausche’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected tactic. Using a cloak or coat in place of a shield or gauntlet wasn’t a new tactic—although it lacked the hardness of metal, cloth of the right thickness and durability could still prevent fatal injuries. The weight of the fabric also helped, especially when caught on a longsword, which needed to be swung with a decent amount of centrifugal force. It was a technique from a bygone era when people would draw their swords in the streets and engage in duels.
“Dammit! You’re Tsav, the Man-Eating Ghoul!” In a desperate bid to free himself, Adelat tried to swing off the cloak, only to find his momentum greatly hindered.
“What an awful, rude nickname.”
Tsav had already closed the distance between them, slipping up close to the man and essentially ending the fight. Quickly parrying Adelat’s elbow, he headbutted the swordsman’s face while simultaneously plunging a unique dagger, its handle designed to be grasped in a closed-fisted hand, into Adelat’s side.
“It’s unfortunate, really,” Tsav continued. “You’d have beaten me in a sword fight. I even bet on you in the tournament. But…you can’t best me in a street brawl to the death.”
Tsav then dragged Adelat to the ground and, kneeling over him, pressed the knife to his throat.
“Why are you targeting us?” he asked. “You knew Patausche was coming, too, right? What made you think you could win?”
“The election…,” Adelat grunted, his voice low. “All I needed to do was buy some time until the election was over. That’s it… Killing Xylo Forbartz would have merely been a bonus…”
“Like, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but the fact that your boss told you to fight Xylo means that you’re disposable. You were sent to die. Why let someone use you like that?”
“You wouldn’t understand, Ghoul. I’m doing this for my son… He has a weak heart, and that doctor is the only one who can save him. That’s why…”
Patausche felt a prickle of unease. Adelat was acting a little too calm, and it looked like he had something in his hand.
“…I’m not afraid of being called a traitor. I would trade my life for my son’s.”
The instant she realized something was off, Patausche was already riding her horse at full speed toward Tsav and Adelat.
“Tsav, hold on!” she shouted.
“Whoa!”
Patausche seized Tsav’s arm, essentially dragging him away—hopefully far enough to spare him from being fatally wounded, at least. Adelat, expressionless, launched a projectile at them. It burst in a flash of blinding light, making only a muffled pop. Its impact reverberated through Patausche’s spine, causing her horse to violently rear. She was forced to launch Tsav into the air while shielding Teoritta with her own body.
The disposable projectile had been a sacred seal weapon, likely engraved with Zatte Finde—an uncommon choice due to its inefficiency. Nevertheless, the blast left Patausche’s ears ringing as she tumbled across the ground, Teoritta clutched in her arms.
I’m sorry.
Patausche placed a hand on her fallen horse’s neck. Luckily it wasn’t dead, but it had probably broken a leg. It needed a veterinarian, and she needed a replacement.
“…Man, was that really necessary?” asked Tsav. “Everyone’s been doing the wildest stuff lately. It’s downright hilarious.”
He was lounging against a wall, his arms crossed as he casually watched the dust settle, revealing Adelat’s mangled remains. Patausche immediately shielded Teoritta’s eyes, but the goddess seemed far too distraught to notice.
“…Wh-what is going on?” she asked. “What are you doing here, Tsav?”
“Sorry, but this was all my bro’s idea. You must be surprised, huh?”
“He tricked us?! Even me?! Xylo! This is unforgivable! How dare he deceive a goddess like this!”
Her anger was obvious, and Patausche knew exactly how she felt.
“Where is he?!” the goddess continued. “I thought he needed my help!”
“Oh, uh… He said to tell you to go back to the barracks where it’s safe and wait,” said Tsav. “He’ll take care of the rest by himself.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Absurd.”
Teoritta and Patausche spoke in unison, the latter pointing her spear at Tsav’s nose.
“Tell us where that idiot went. Right now,” she said. “Goddess Teoritta and I are not in a good mood, and it isn’t because we were deceived.”
“Exactly. How dare he try to take care of everything by himself again?”
“Tsav, spit it out, or I will deliver divine punishment upon you! I’ll take away all your snacks, too!” Patausche’s rage came rushing out like a tidal wave.
Tsav sighed deeply. “I told him this’d happen. I was like, ‘Don’t do it, Bro.’”
“I’m not interested in your complaints! Where is he?!”
“Okay, okay! He’s at the grand plaza!” replied Tsav with his usual goofy smirk, his back up against the wall. “He said he’s gonna beat up some guy called Simurid Kormadino and make him pay! That’s their boss! I’m not lying!”