But the next second, my attention was diverted as the enhanced swordfighter I was fighting began to swing his sword with reckless abandon.
“GUUUUH! DIIIEEE!”
I dodged his mindless swings…
“Hmph!”
…and hit the back of his head with the butt of my black sword to knock him unconscious and avoid killing him.
“Hmm? I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but there’s no point trying to save them. Once soul-crystal pills have sent someone berserk, there’s no medical technology in the world that can bring them back,” Dodriel said.
“Don’t worry. We have a secret weapon,” I snapped back.
The secret weapon I spoke of was Kemmi Fasta, Liengard’s genius scientist. She was a despicable person who I deeply detested, but her intellect was undeniable. She had achieved some truly incredible things, from the development of microminiature sailplanes to the discovery and mass production of a wonder drug for curses.
If we entice Kemmi with a massive cash reward, I’m sure she’ll be able to find a way to return these enhanced swordfighters to normal!
I held that hope in my heart as I incapacitated the enhanced swordfighters.
“Grrr… That’s very you. Those honest eyes, that unyielding heart, that endlessly positive mindset… You haven’t changed at all from when you used to spend all your time swinging your sword alone in a corner of the schoolyard… That spirit of yours is something else. And I’ve always hated you for it!”
Dodriel leaped off his shadow platform toward me.
“Die.”
“…!”
He swung Shadow Sovereign at me, and I blocked with Rapacious Demon Zeon. The pitch-black shockwave shook the very air.
“…You’re good,” I admitted.
He has so much more spirit power than he did during the Union Festival.
“Ah-ha, we’ve both gotten stronger since we last met!” Dodriel said.
Now that he was close to me, I noticed that his robe was embroidered with the pattern only given to members of the Black Organization’s top management.
“You’re an Oracle Knight now?” I observed.
“Hmm-hmm, impressive, right? I worked my way up in the organization from an expendable pawn to a real big shot!” Dodriel boasted.
“Does your new title really make you happy?” I asked.
Dodriel’s smile vanished in response to my question.
“…You’re mean. You already know the answer to that. Of course I don’t care about this worthless title. All I want in life is for you to suffer and die a more painful death than anyone in human history!” he yelled, his eyes wide with anger. Dodriel was about to draw on his shadow power when an angry yell from above pounded my eardrums.
“Dodriel! What are you doing on the front lines, you fool?! Have you forgotten His Majesty’s orders?!”
“Grk… Oh, fine. Whatever,” Dodriel said, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, Allen. I’ve gotta support our invasion from the rear today.”
He retreated without argument, and a man jumped down from the shadow platform to take his place.
“That boy gives me the creeps… He’s gotten way too big a head since earning His Majesty’s favor,” he muttered reproachfully. Then, he turned his eyes to me, a discerning look on his face. “I am Gauron Leisenberg, one of the Four Imperial Knights. I’ve come here to conquer Aurest on orders of His Majesty the Emperor. I assume you’re Allen Rodol?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
Gauron smiled eagerly and sucked in a massive breath.
“Hrngh…!” he grunted, his voice deep and rumbling. Immense spirit power filled his muscles and caused them to grow significantly in size.
Gauron Leisenberg was about 190 centimeters tall and looked to be in his mid-seventies, with short white hair that stood up on his head. His sharp black eyes, white mustache, and wrinkled face combined to give him a distinctively stern look. There were overlapping slash wounds on his forehead and old scars all over his tanned body, making him look like a grizzled veteran of many battles. He wore a simple black shirt and black pants under his black overcoat. The outfit favored practicality above all else.
He’s one of the Four Imperial Knights… It was safe to assume he was as strong as Sebas, the former Vice President of Thousand Blade Academy. He was likely the most formidable foe in this invading force. The extent to which I could restrain him would have a massive impact on the damage done here today.
Whew… This isn’t gonna be easy. I’d expended a lot of spirit power fighting Shin… But complaining won’t get me anywhere.
I refocused, coated my body in white darkness, and held my black sword at my navel in the middle stance.
Gauron put a hand to his chin, eyebrows raised. “Wow… That’s a masterful stance. Your spirit power is formidable as well. I can see that you’re an even better swordsman than I’ve been told.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Holding back against an opponent of your caliber would be foolish. I’m going to summon my True Attire and beat you into submission! Enter Subspace—Aurum Cube!”
Gauron went straight past his Soul Attire and summoned his True Attire.
What is that…?!
A storm of violent spirit power swept up, within which a giant golden cube appeared by tearing through a rift in the air. It looked dignified and powerful as it shone and floated above Gauron’s head. Upon closer inspection, I saw the giant cube was made up of a number of smaller cubes that spun in irregular patterns.
Between Diehl, Von, and Shin, all the opponents I’ve fought lately have had confusing abilities…
I bit my lip as two small cubes descended into Gauron’s palms.
“Armis,” he said.
The cubes melted and formed around his arms into gauntlets. Gauron clenched both fists, smiled with satisfaction, and lowered his center of gravity.
“Prepare yourself,” he said before rushing at me with shocking speed.
Crap, what kind of ability does he have?!
I was left with no choice but to counterattack without knowing what he could do.
“Hah!” I shouted, swinging my sword down as hard as I could.
“Hmph,” Gauron grunted, using the golden gauntlet on his right arm to block the strike.
““…””
We ended up in a stalemate, yet something had startled me when my blade had met his gauntlet.
That felt totally wrong…
Normally, when you hit something with your sword, the impact travels from your blade to your arms and then to the rest of your body. The heavier the resistance your blade meets, the greater recoil you feel.
However, when my sword had collided with Gauron’s fist…I hadn’t felt anything. I’d swung my sword as hard as I could—and I could tell he’d done the same with his fist—but I’d felt as little impact as if I had sliced through cheese or cotton.