The giant leapt at Wyatt, sending a heavy yet quick slash his way. This was the “carriage-driver” slash, an attack so wide it went around and hit the target in the back. With all the power and momentum behind Gaius’s blow, by all rights it should have smashed through his opponent’s defenses and split the man in twain, but Wyatt immediately activated the Scarlet Plate to attain the power to block the slash. He twisted around and used his Sword Eater to defend. Wyatt’s perception and skill had to be extraordinary for him to react to and stop this incredible attack. The power of the Scarlet Plate, too, was frightening, to give him the strength to stop the full might of Gaius Beldarus’s attack with only one arm.
There was a crash as sparks and pieces of metal flew. Meanwhile, Gaius was already making his next move. He swung sideways at Wyatt’s head and Wyatt shifted immediately to a two-handed stance, blocking Gaius’s swing. Gaius broke from the bind and swung at his other side, but Wyatt blocked this as well. He flipped his faussar and tried to cut into Wyatt’s neck, but Wyatt flicked his Sword Eater and deflected the attack up.
All of this happened several times faster than it would take two regular swordsmen to perform the same moves. Another blow, and another. After all this, the two finally pulled apart and faced each other from a short distance away. The guildmaster had kicked Emon aside the moment he had activated the Scarlet Plate, and the dwarf was now lying near the Command Center, unmoving.
“Gnnh...” A beastly growl came from the Kobold King’s throat, a grunt of pain from the knight in the red armor.
“Black Rose of Igris...!” Wyatt howled in a low, dark voice full of hatred. His anger had boiled over into pure loathing.
“My current title is the Kobold King. Please stop calling me by that old nickname, Sir Wyatt.”
“‘King?!’ You claim to be a king...?! Just how...how far must your ridicule go?!”
“I ridicule no one,” Gaius said, blade still facing Wyatt, then he called out to his pupil. “Emon!”
“...Yer late...old man...”
“...You did well.” They were probably the words the boy most wanted to hear. Emon smiled, satisfied, and laid his head on the ground as he finally ran out of strength.
“...Thank you, Emon,” said Gaius. The words were quiet but heartfelt.
“Your Majesty!” Sashalia called out.
“I really put a burden on you, didn’t I, General?”
“No!” the loyal retainer exclaimed hurriedly, then continued in a more professional tone: “Your Majesty, I’m busy commanding our troops to clean up the rest of our foes, so may I ask you to deal with this?”
“Of course. Carry on, General.”
“Yes, sir! Okay everyone, one more push! Please make sure the wounded get treated, too!”
“Yes, ma’am!” The housewife alliance all answered in unison, their energy restored.
“‘Clean up’...?! Girl! Did you just say ‘the rest of your foes’?” Wyatt’s eyes practically popped out of his head with rage.
Sashalia smiled in response. “Yes. Your soldiers who were heading north through the forest have been reduced to less than a third of their original number. It’s really too bad, after you managed to get that many together again.”
The old kobold in Gaius’s rucksack popped his head out and joined in, waving his arms about. “And the group we faced by the river turned tail and ran after we cut down half of them! Hohoho!”
Things were exactly as they’d said. Heatley’s squad had run after losing their commander and half of their men. Ashcroft’s forces had come under attack by Rain Grass and the attack squad, Red Eye’s magic staff squad, and other kobold fighters all brought together and working skillfully to bring their numbers down steadily. The adventurers were almost routed. This was all, of course, due to Sashalia’s continued leadership of the kobolds.
Wyatt could only listen to their words in mute amazement, but he quickly collected himself. “...No, it’s not over yet. If I cut you down here, if I kill all of you...! I can keep moving forward!”
“All I’ll say is it’s futile.”
“It’s fine. This is no longer a matter of gains and losses.”
“Is that right? I suppose there’s nothing for it, then.”
They both took up their swords once again, measuring the distance between each other, slowly, slowly stepping closer. Then the clash resumed.
“Groooh!”
“Nwaaah!”
Their swords struck and they both moved between offensive and defensive positions several times. If Gaius pushed forward, Wyatt activated the Scarlet Plate and pushed back. Each of Gaius’s blows would have had enough strength to rip Wyatt’s arm off, but Wyatt defended with all his might. Meanwhile, Wyatt’s swift slashes could probably cut through rock, but Gaius stopped them with his board-like cleaver. Sparks flew with each clash, the slowly chipping sword glowing as if it were bathed in flames. All this happened at speeds the human eye could barely follow.
“You monster! You damn monster! You have all this power and you waste it!”
“I could say the same to you. That’s something very interesting you’ve got there.”
“I wouldn’t have had to use this toy if not for you!”
Their battle raged like a storm, moving from the square containing the Command Center to the entire village. Their blades clashed over the still-burning wreckage of houses even as the flames burned their bodies. They could smell each other’s hair and skin burning, but still never took their eyes off one another. The clash of their swords only increased in intensity as they grabbed flaming pillars and tossed them aside and stepped over furniture wrapped in flames. At one moment, they pushed against each other’s blades, their faces almost close enough to touch, and at the next, they hid themselves behind houses, watching out for an opportunity to strike. Wyatt used the power of the Scarlet Plate to leap over a dwelling and launch a surprise attack at Gaius, only for Gaius to then thrust his faussar straight through a wall at his next opportunity to surprise Wyatt. All their accumulated experience was put into this exchange of blows, and as it went on, it led to new wound after new wound appearing on both their bodies.
The fighters did not restrict their combat to using their swords. They punched and kicked, and used every technique at their disposal to throw everything they had at each other. All the fatigue and wounds Gaius had accumulated began to weigh him down, while the searing pain and burden of using the Scarlet Plate were straining every part of Wyatt’s body and driving him to the brink of madness.
The king fought with wild abandon to protect his kingdom. The knight was seeing the world with a warrior’s clarity, all thoughts of political ambition evaporating from his mind as he fought to protect his dignity. As the battle raged on, each of them chipped away at the bodies and minds of his opponent.
...Even Wyatt’s sword, strengthened as it was by magic, was beginning to chip away after so many impacts with the other blade. They’d struck each other dozens, possibly even over a hundred times.
Their battle lasted quite a while, but in a way it also felt that it was over instantly. No matter the case, a conclusion was bound to be reached, and it came announced by the sound of a blade shattering.
The moment their swords met for the last time...the huge sheet of steel that made up the length of the faussar gripped in Gaius Beldarus’s hands shattered into pieces.
＊
The steel didn’t bend or break; it merely changed its form from a sword into fragments of metal, crumbling like a dry cookie.
“What..?!” Gaius was shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered and leapt backwards to put some distance between himself and his foe.
Wyatt watched him, narrowing his eyes with glee and smiling coldly. His face still dripped with sweat, however, a sign of the torment he was enduring. “It would have been a much shorter meal if your sword hadn’t been a great sheet of metal.” Wyatt boasted, showing off the pattern on his own sword’s blade.
“I see. It’s your weapon. The reason my faussar deteriorated so unnaturally in our last battle was because of that magic...no, that cursed sword.” Gaius replied. He took a classic “frontal stance” used in unarmed combat.
Even as they exchanged words, there was a palpable tension between the two warriors. Every one of their actions was part of an invisible power struggle between them.
“‘Sword Eater,’ it’s called. You must have heard the name before. Mine’s the original.”
The cursed Sword Eater was a weapon of no little fame, forged by a pair of brothers: one a legendary blacksmith who specialized in magic swords and the other a genius spellcaster. It was a masterpiece among all modern magic weaponry, so famous that all throughout the war, as well as before and after it, countless fakes and copies of the sword had been forged.
“I’ve heard of it. The fourth prince of a neighboring country, known as the Red Tiger, once had possession of it, but lost it when he perished in the Five Year War.”
“It’s true. He did lose it, and now I have it.” Wyatt showed the blade off with a sneer.
“I also heard that the previous Marquis of Northplain defeated the Red Tiger.”
“I was the one who really killed the prince.”
“I see.”
This was a common occurrence. It was more convenient for everyone for such deaths, and such kills, to not be attributed to rank-and-file soldiers.