Only Ramza and Marco stayed on the front line, gritting their teeth through the pain as they carefully hunted for the opportunity to mount a counterattack. The shafts of light bearing down upon them soon became too many to count, and while the pair could slice through any vine, the onslaught was simply overwhelming. As cuts appeared all over the warriors’ bodies, they could no longer ignore the pain and their movements gradually dulled. Marco could sense that he was reaching his limit, and as his last act, rushed forward to defend Ramza.
“Captain!” he shouted.
Even in this situation, you still choose to protect me, Ramza thought. His heart grew warm, but at the same time, he was frustrated with himself.
“You never change, do you?” Ramza muttered.
“I never will!” Marco declared. “For Ishtarica’s royal family, I will always—”
“No, I know that your loyalty will never waver. I’m talking about how pathetic I am...”
Like Marco, Ramza had been turned into a pin cushion with a litany of serious injuries and blood gushing from his wounds. And yet, the hand that gripped the Living Armor’s shoulder was anything but feeble, a display of Ramza’s strength like never before as he forced his subordinate to stand back. Of course he was in pain. But above all, Ramza was most pained by his own shortcomings.
“Marco, I’m certain that you must have regrets about yourself. During that war, you were unable to protect our home,” Ramza muttered. But he’d also rued his past, just as much as the Living Armor did. “I have no right to be shielded by you. I forced my own son to murder my sister.”
Not once did Ramza want to be protected either.
“Gaze upon me, the King of Swords, second to none with a blade.”
The Dullahan spoke nothing but the truth. This chant gave him the strength to stand proud and unleash all of his power.
“Gaze upon me, who shall never permit such a creature to stand before my boot.”
Despite the millions of lights wildly shooting through the air, the shafts of light surrounding Ramza suddenly scattered and dissipated. In a display of great power, he raised his sword to the heavens and a tempest started swirling around him.
“Marco,” Ramza murmured.
“Y-Yessir!” Marco replied.
“You’ve only seen the most wretched side of myself. You’re right to mock me as a man who was unable to protect his family. I’ve done nothing but bark orders at you, and met my end long before you did. I’ve been a truly incompetent commander, and any insult you hurl at me shall be warranted.”
Marco could never bring himself to make such remarks, even if he’d be lying through his teeth. The knight gazed at Ramza, only further convinced that he was right to follow his command.
“And because of my pitiful shortcomings, I have no right to be protected. I put my life on the line to save this kid from his ensnarement.” Ramza turned back. “You’re probably wondering why a guy like me is speaking with such grandiose words.”
The faintest of smiles appeared on his face, attesting to his humanity despite the despair he found himself up against. Merely gazing upon him filled one with a sense of relief and renewed their confidence. The piercing shafts of light were a second away from striking his body when the expression on his face suddenly changed. Before the Living Armor stood the King of Swords, his gloriously intimidating aura blinding those who laid eyes upon him. He quickly faced forward to grasp his trusty weapon.
“Don’t underestimate me, World Tree of Gluttony,” Ramza growled.
As the King of Swords and Ishtarica’s founder, he saw this to be a matter of pride. Wielding the sharp wind that surrounded his blade, he swung downward and unleashed his attack. The crack that ran along the ground suddenly grew deeper, and the dark clouds that hung over the city instantly dispersed. The powerful gust reached the tree itself, slicing its branches, leaves, and even its robust vines to bits. All fell victim to the King of Swords’s mighty strike.
“Gah...” Ramza grunted.
Even the shafts of lights had all disappeared, but Ramza had used so much energy that he needed to lean on his greatsword to remain standing. However, his actions had transformed the battlefield in an instant.
“That was splendid,” Marco said.
“I’ve no need for flattery,” Ramza muttered.
“I’m not flattering you. When you swing your sword with that much finesse, I’ve no choice but to be convinced that I was correct to follow you all along.”
This time around, Ramza accepted his knight’s assistance. As Marco lent him a shoulder, the Dullahan turned to face his subordinate and grinned.
“I’m certain that the World Tree of Gluttony has used up quite a bit of its power,” Marco said.
The tree’s vines started wiggling about once again, but it had been visibly weakened. Clearly, Ramza’s attack had left a lasting mark.
“Misty, I’ll cut it short because we don’t have time,” Ramza said.
Misty couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen her husband so exhausted. He hadn’t been this tired during the war, and he had been more energetic even in his skeleton days. The Dullahan, that stubborn fool, had the tendency to believe that there was beauty in hiding any and all weakness. The epitome of masculinity, Ramza always carried himself with an air of strength, and he wasn’t one to needlessly engage in pointless conversation.
“An aria,” Ramza said. “If he’s gonna go all out, we must do the same, or we won’t be able to fight back.”
Misty gasped as her expression changed.