I wanted to know the frequency of its combat loop: vanish, attack, vanish, and attack again. While I remembered the failure of my past, there was no way for me to recall the exact flow of time in that battle. I’d sensed it attacking me just now at the very last second, but I wanted more information for when it struck again—being able to foreshadow its attacks and analyze the aftermath of them would be very helpful.
So yes, this analytical part of my mind definitely existed, but my anxiety and fear were more prominent. I felt entirely different than when I’d fought Zeno Grable, Lono Ambrosia, and the griffon in Hugenbite. I could admit to being excited—I was, after all, battling a strong foe—but that excitement was plastered over by a viscous sense of unease that refused to be wiped away.
I need to stop. I can’t let it consume me. If I do, then Surena, Pisces, Pauford, and I will all die. I can’t let that happen.
I understood that, but would my body even be able to perform at its full potential? My tendency to worry endlessly had manifested in a horrible way.
“Whoa!”
“Graaah!”
Lost in thought as I was, it was only natural that I didn’t react when Id Invicius suddenly appeared out of thin air once more. I could do nothing to counter its downward slash.
“Master?!”
It felt like time slowed down as Surena’s sorrowful shriek echoed in my ear. I could still hear. My brain still worked. At the very least, I wasn’t dead. However, my left arm was probably out of commission for a while. I hadn’t been able to lift my right arm—my sword arm—in time, and my body hadn’t moved out of the way fast enough.
A sharp pain shot from my left arm to the rest of my body. But the fact that I could still feel pain meant I wasn’t out of the fight just yet. A part of me, fostered by my experience as a swordsman into a certain kind of instinct, was able to calmly assess my current state—despite my anxiety and fear toward Id Invicius.
“Shhh!”
Before even staggering from my wound, I swung with my right arm, knowing that the left one was now useless. Last time, I’d been blown back by the strike, but this time, I was still right next to my target. I counterattacked before a groan of pain could escape my lips. If this hits, it means that it’s possible to counterattack during the tiny window in which Id Invicius strikes.
“Tch!”
My hopes were half right and half wrong. My sword definitely reached Id Invicius. It was agile, but it wasn’t able to retreat fast enough to get away from a counterattack. Though it was definitely still fast, I felt like we stood a chance of fighting back.
However, my hopes were betrayed by the fact that I clearly hadn’t dealt any damage. The feedback in my hand after I dealt the blow was somewhat similar to striking an extremely hard object—like Lono Ambrosia’s core. Even if I’d struck with perfect posture and a perfect slash, I doubted I could’ve cut through this. That irritating sensation lingered in my hand.
To an onlooker, it must’ve looked like my sword had come to a sudden stop in midair. But that proved something: When the monster couldn’t be seen, it was definitely still there and wasn’t escaping to another dimension or something.
That said, if my sword couldn’t penetrate its body, we’d have to try a different approach. I felt like we needed more than just simple blades and swordplay. That puts it beyond my abilities, though. My only choice was to somehow get Surena and Pisces out of here, then turn to the higher-ups to sort the rest out.
“Master! Are you all right?!” Surena yelled.
“Y-Yeah... Ow ow ow!”
Id Invicius’s presence had vanished once more, but we couldn’t be careless, and my wound needed treatment. Considering the situation and our list of priorities, jumping into a fight to the death while trailing blood behind me wasn’t a great idea. Surena had surely come to the same conclusion.
Dammit. Really sucks that I can’t sense it. Normally, I’d get to take a breather if I found that there was nothing hostile around. This is getting on my nerves.
“Master, do you have more potions?” Surena asked frantically.
“I think I still have some... Look in my backpack... Ow...”
I’d handed out potions and bandages to Surena and Pisces in the cave, but I was pretty sure there were more. Even without potions, I wanted to at least get a bandage around my wound. At worst, I could tear up my clothes for a makeshift bandage, but I didn’t want to resort to that if I didn’t have to.
“Found it! Master, please—”
“Wait,” Pisces said, cutting Surena off. “Lysandra, I know you’re worried, but focus on keeping watch. I’ll treat him. I doubt I’ll be of any use against that thing right now, anyway.”
“R-Right... Understood...”
Surena managed to fish a potion and clean bandages out of my backpack as Pisces put Pauford down and took over. His judgment was correct, so I kept quiet. Surena seemed reluctant to agree, though—her personal feelings had to take a back seat to our needs.
Pisces emptied the potion over my open wound.
“Gh...! That stings...” I grumbled.
“You’re lucky it didn’t tear,” Pisces said, wrapping a bandage around it. His expression wasn’t cheerful in any way. “But...”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “It’s my body.”
I’d suffered the wound—my body was telling me what the situation was. The gash ran from my left shoulder down my bicep. It was pure luck that the muscle had refused to separate from the bone. However, it’d done everything but physically rip flesh from bone. I clenched my left hand. Well, I tried to, anyway, but I didn’t have any strength. Though I tried to move my fingers, they remained still. I was right-handed, so while losing my left was inconvenient, it wouldn’t hamper my daily life. For a swordsman, however, losing one arm was fatal.
There were one-armed swordsmen out there in the wide world, and you could surely find a strong one if you looked hard enough. However, using my metrics for good swordsmanship, being strong with only one arm was extremely unlikely. It was perfectly obvious—to accomplish any task, having two hands was more convenient than only having one. Swordplay was no exception.
“Well, it’s not too expensive a price to pay in exchange for your lives...” I said. “It’s not cheap either, but at least my arm didn’t get lopped off.”
“You’re amazing...” Pisces told me. “It’s rare to see a guy prepared to go that far for a stranger.”
“It’s not like I’d do it for just anyone,” I said. “I’m not that much of a saint... Ow.”
After using the potion, Pisces quickly applied pressure and stopped the bleeding. He moved with very practiced motions, even while talking. There was no longer any blood leaking out, so it seemed I would be able to move for a while longer. Doing emergency treatment using only one hand would be precarious—I wanted to avoid having to do so.
“I-It’s not too late for your arm!” Surena yelled while keeping an eye on our surroundings. “If you get a skilled wizard to look at it, you can still—!”
“Only if such a wizard happens to be around,” I retorted.
“Gh...!”
I didn’t want to give up either. I wasn’t so optimistic that I could simply claim, “Well, my left arm is broken, so let’s aim for the summit one-handed!” However, just as I’d said, this price was worth paying if it saved Surena. I would surely have done the same for Allucia, Curuni, Ficelle, and Mewi.
I wasn’t a saint or anything. Say I got the verdict that my arm would never heal—I couldn’t confidently say that I would still be okay with the decision after years of living with the consequences. The human heart was fickle, after all. Still, regret was an emotion that came after the crisis was over. Regretting a future that had yet to come was ridiculous. I could only make a decision based on the information I had right now, and from that perspective, I was okay with the loss.
“Okay, that should do for now,” Pisces said as he finished up my treatment.
“Thanks,” I told him. “You’re as good as I’d expect. Not much to be done about the pain, though... It won’t get in the way.”
“You’re welcome...doesn’t quite seem like the correct response.”
“Ha ha, you’ve got a point there.”
He’d treated my wound, but he’d technically been partially responsible for it, so he struggled to accept any gratitude. But I’d come here of my own volition and had suffered this wound because of my choice. I had no intention of passing the blame. Bit of a deep injury to be called an honor scar, though...
“My legs still work,” I said. I stood, my sword in my right hand. “For now, let’s just focus on getting out of its territory as fast as possible.”