The World Tree of Gluttony began to squirm as the trio approached the royal capital. The roots were not only sprawling across the cobblestone roads and constricting homes; they were attacking the trio from all directions. Misty had just raised her staff in the air when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“I’d like to have a few practice swings,” Ramza said unemotionally, his calm face turned towards the tree.
Misty let out a small sigh, almost exasperated by how nonchalant he was being in this situation. But instead of giving him a piece of her mind, she stepped back.
“Oh, all right,” she relented.
Several roots rushed at the trio, and the Dullahan’s greatsword met them halfway.
“I certainly expected as much, but these roots are completely different from the ones that I’m familiar with,” Ramza muttered.
Considering that these roots moved on their own, they were by no means normal. But most critically, these roots were incredibly robust. While they were no match for the Dullahan, he noticed that they were much sturdier than any monster bone he’d cut through.
“Of course,” Misty replied. “We’re not up against a normal tree, you know.”
“Yeah,” Ramza said. “I now know that they’re quite tough.”
There was no doubt in his mind that the tree’s trunk was much sturdier than appearances implied. Based on his prior combat experience, Ramza surmised the bark to be far more robust than a rare metal or massive boulder. But whether this sturdiness would hinder the Dullahan’s attacks was a different story.
Also, Ramza’s swordsmanship far outclassed Ein’s. Proud of his “King of Swords” sobriquet, the Dullahan was second to none in Ishtarica’s long history of swordplay. If the ladies at his side relaxed for even a moment, they would quickly lose sight of his godlike speed.
“How does it feel?” Arshay inquired.
“Not as bad as I expected before I set foot on this land,” Ramza replied.
Even an awakened Demon Lord couldn’t possibly pose a threat using the most minuscule amount of power—no, one required a much greater force. The roots were all sliced into bits as they fell to the ground. They wriggled on the floor for a short while before they quickly wilted away.
Again and again, the roots tried to restrict their enemies, but their attempts were in vain. With a gust of wind, the roots were hacked into tiny pieces.
“Can we join in too?” Misty asked.
“Sure,” Ramza replied.
“I’ll also help,” Arshay said.
The roots continued their barrage of attacks, and the ladies displayed power on par with the Dullahan’s might. The Elder Lich, who had achieved the pinnacle of sorcery, transmogrified the roots into grains of sand. Meanwhile, the Nightmare of Envy only needed to let out a deep exhalation to lull the roots into an eternal slumber. Even so, the roots refused to let up.
The trio ran ahead, making haste to reach Heim’s royal capital. The roots running along the ground had gradually become more languid. When Ramza turned around, he noticed purplish red mana wrapping around the roots like chains.
“Is this your doing, Arshay?” Ramza asked.
“Mhm,” the Demon Lord replied. “They keep coming and coming, so I thought it was just better for them to slowly fall to their ruin.”
“That’s quite the mean attack you’ve got there.”
“Huh?! I-I’m just trying to be efficient, that’s all!”
Amid his joking banter, Ramza made sure to thank the little girl. Thanks to her, the roots had stopped attacking, making it much easier for the three of them to traverse the terrain. The royal capital grew closer and closer, as did the massive tree that loomed over it. With Ramza at the helm, the arena for the final battle was close, but the Dullahan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
Just outside the city gates lay a series of destroyed castle walls. The structure’s sorry state had made it virtually impossible to imagine the city’s former glory, not to mention the similarly ruined castle gates. Before the gates solemnly stood a single knight—a warrior whose loyalty knew no bounds.
“It certainly has been a while,” he said.
“We walked past each other just yesterday,” Ramza replied.
“Ah, but we haven’t been able to exchange any greetings until now, have we?”
“I suppose you’re right, Marco.”
The Living Armor’s body stood out, even at night. Veinlike tubes ran along his body, pulsating and glowing with every breath he took. The color of his veins was even darker than the time when he’d fought Ein. This proved that the loyal knight had reverted to his prime, or possessed strength even greater than that.
“I believe that Ein had told you that you completed your duties,” Ramza said.
“Indeed, your message has been received. And I’m truly grateful my loyalty has reached you,” Marco replied. He placed a hand over his chest and gave a deep bow.
“Then I shall give you a new order, Vice Captain of the Black Knights. Come with us and use your blade to help stop Ein’s rampage.”
As Ramza stretched out his hand, Marco tried to reach out several times as though he were trying to cling to his captain’s command. However, the Living Armor finally shook himself free of his hesitation and shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Ramza asked. “Why don’t you answer?”
“Forgive me, Captain,” Marco said. “I’ve already received a new mission.” He summoned a large sword from the air.
Ramza had expected as much. He felt a sting of lament inside as he drew his sword as well.
“If you cannot follow your captain’s orders, it implies that your loyalty has died,” Ramza said.
“What a funny thing to say,” Marco replied. “My loyalty has not died, and my actions are proof of this. Hence, I choose to grab my sword.”
Despite his vague statements, his loyalty shone brighter than ever before, intent on following Ein’s orders. Instead of expressing joy at his reunion with Arshay, the Living Armor chose to express his loyalty first.
“Lord Arshay, not once have I forgotten the gratitude I feel towards you,” Marco said.
“Yeah, I know,” the Demon Lord replied. “I know that you’re kind.”
“Please forgive me. As you may know, after that battle, I was truly supposed to serve—”
“Silence. That’s enough,” Ramza interjected, wanting to protect Arshay. “We’re here to stop Ein. If you’re planning on getting in our way, we must beat you by force.”
“Then I shall simply remain loyal to ensure my master’s happiness. Should I be allowed to protect him, I won’t hesitate to fight against you, Captain.”
“I didn’t expect a man like you to misunderstand the meaning of happiness.”
“No, not once have I mistaken Sir Ein’s happiness. If you’ll allow me to assert myself, I believe that I more precisely understand his happiness than you do, Captain, for you’re trying to put an end to his rampage.”
“What exactly is going through your mind?”
In truth, Ramza didn’t wish to fight the Living Armor. It seemed pointless to wear himself out here, and he was eager to find Ein as soon as possible. The Captain of the Black Knights couldn’t hide his frustration.
“I’ll say it as many times as I need to,” Marco replied. “For my master, I shall fight whoever opposes him, including my own captain.”
Ramza furrowed his brows. Mana ran thick through the Living Armor’s body, but it seemed like he was using almost an absurd degree—Marco looked like he was needlessly wasting precious magical energy. Just then, the Dullahan jolted as an epiphany hit him.
“Ha ha! You truly are a troublesome man!” Ramza shouted.
He suddenly vanished from sight and reappeared in front of Marco while swinging his blade down.
“Dear!” Misty called.
“Brother!” Arshay shouted.
“You two go on ahead! I’ll catch up soon!” Ramza reassured them.
Marco turned his blade horizontally, easily parrying the Dullahan’s attack but not budging an inch.
“As impressive as always, Captain,” Marco said. “My arms have grown numb from your attack.”
“No need to flatter me. You haven’t moved from where you stand,” Ramza replied.
Every swing was swift, fast, and skillfully done. Any swordsman would’ve been awed and astonished by the battle that was currently unfolding at the castle gates. The apex of swordsmanship had been condensed into this battle of cold steel.