A thin blade, glittering in all the colors of the rainbow as the light of the flames hit it. The line of steel stood straight up in the dirt as if pointing to heaven, a single magic orb shining on its hilt.
...It was the magic sword, Stingfeather, and Gaius Beldarus was resting on the grave of White Fog, his dear friend.
＊
I wonder if this is how it feels to be an insect. Wyatt almost felt as though his bones and muscle were no longer holding up his body, and it was only the thin red plate covering him that supported him. That was how badly his insides were twisted, torn, shattered, and crumbling.
After this battle was over, if his wounds healed, he’d probably never be able to move like he used to...he may never even walk again. But what does that matter? I don’t care. I don’t care! How can I?!
Muttering to himself almost like he was trying to cast a curse, Wyatt took one step forward, then another. Agony gnawed at him with each movement, his heart pounded like a maelstrom, and the elation he felt at defeating his sworn enemy was bringing him back to his original state of mind. He no longer cared whether he won or lost this war. His own destruction was far from his mind. Rather than Wyatt the knight, who always used logic to seek out every advantage, he was turning back into Wyatt the warrior, a man fighting for his own pride. Because of this, he was feeling a great amount of emotion now.
Wyatt had given up everything that he’d built for himself until now, everything that he’d obtained, and all of his future for the sake of this confrontation, and because of all that, he’d managed to surpass Gaius Beldarus. That fact filled his heart with a blissful warmth.
Though his senses were fading with every step he took, Wyatt continued putting one foot in front of the other until he finally had Gaius at his mercy before him. The Kobold King knelt on the ground, hunched over with his back exposed, like a criminal awaiting execution via decapitation.
Wyatt said nothing to him. He had neither the strength nor the patience anymore to move his tongue. Still, he was careful to stay out of range of his opponent’s arms as he silently raised Sword Eater. It was less a calculated act at this point than it was the response of the reflexes ingrained in his body. Right as he was about to step forward...
“Please, lend me this, Fog!” Gaius stood, twisting his body and thrusting his arm out in a stabbing motion.
Wyatt was ready for a counterattack like this. Even if his foe now held a weapon in his hand, his thoughts immediately accelerated, ordering his deteriorating arm to defend.
“Sting!” howled Gaius.
The highly sophisticated magic blade extended, aimed straight at Wyatt’s face. Wyatt had never seen this kind of magic sword before, and could not have expected Gaius could possess one, so he had no way of anticipating this. However, the red-armored knight’s reflexes were enough to best even this. He responded to the threat instantaneously, blocking the tip of the blade with his Sword Eater. The point of the sword was quicker than an arrow, sharper than a spear, fine like the point of an awl.
Gaius Beldarus thrust out the beautiful, brittle blade with all of his monstrous strength, but Sword Eater intercepted it before it could reach Wyatt, and Gaius’s weapon fell to pieces just as the previous one had.
It was a speed bordering on godlike. The quality of Wyatt’s swordplay was the highest it had ever been in his entire life.
...However, that was enough. That one moment was enough time.
When the red-armored knight moved his sword out from in front of his eyes, his enemy was already right in front of them. When his warped sense of time returned to reality, a massive hand was grasping the gauntlet around his sword hilt. Gaius grabbed the blade of Sword Eater in his gauntleted left hand and pushed the blade into the base of Wyatt’s neck.
Thuck. Their eyes met. Snap. Something tore.
Wyatt’s hands dropped from Sword Eater’s hilt as his fingers weakened in time with his heartbeat. It took less than a few seconds for Gaius to plunge the blade into Wyatt’s flesh. Wyatt could feel the sensation of the sword tugging at him as it moved, but there was no pain.
It shattered his collarbone, pushing through the red armor to dig deep into his chest. Gaius then twisted the blade, snapping half of it off within Wyatt. The cursed blade had either reached its limit in this battle, or perhaps it had been activated so much today that its curse had finally been turned around on itself. Maybe it was simply following its master into death.
“Don’t be ashamed. It was three against one.” The king remarked as the warrior fell to his knees.
“...Yeah, right... You cut down...dozens of men today...” The words came out haltingly, and with blood. Wyatt gave a short huff of laughter, then continued, “But...at the end...my sword...” He sunk to the ground, squeezing out the words. He couldn’t move anymore. His consciousness was fading with every beat of his heart. Wyatt could feel the life pouring out of him. ...surpassed yours. The words didn’t make it out of his mouth. He no longer had the strength to move it. Yes... As a swordsman, I... His thoughts and memory started to cloud as his vision slowly darkened.
...Come to think of it, why did I take up the sword?
“Were you a good boy, Wyatt? Here, I picked this up for you in the capital. It’s another of those picture books you like.”
“‘Iron Knight Iwanoshin and the Crystal Princess’?! Wow, Dad! Thanks! None of my friends have this one yet!”
“Hahaha. Well, good. You really love these books, huh?”
“Of course I do! I mean, Iwanoshin’s super cool, Dad!”
Ah...that’s right. Something hot filled his throat, but he couldn’t even choke on it anymore. Wyatt muttered to himself in his darkening mind, as if just remembering something he’d forgotten. I wanted to be Iwanoshin.
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After having escaped from Wyatt’s control while the knight was battling to the death, Cyril ran through the forest as fast as he could. He was smiling, though the corners of his mouth twitched sporadically.
“Finally! Finally! I’m finally free!” He would escape this battlefield as fast as he could and leave the Marquisate of Northplain behind altogether. He would finally be able to take back the freedom that had been stolen from him for all this time! The cuffs on his wrist were heavy, but this didn’t bother him. Cyril ran through the trees, basking in the sensation of the freedom it had taken him so long to recover.
However...
Shunk. Cyril’s foot sank into the ground. He immediately threw himself backwards, twisting his ankle in the process. He let out a sigh of relief when he looked down at his legs.
“Th-That was close...” A pit trap hidden by the kobolds yawned open at his feet. He cautiously peered over the edge to see a fanged maw of countless sharpened stakes. If Cyril had fallen in, he would have been completely immobilized.
“Oww!” When he backed away from the pit, trembling, he finally noticed the pain in his twisted ankle. “Ouch... Coulda been much worse, though. I should consider myself lucky...” A twisted ankle was nothing compared to getting stuck in one of those vicious traps. Cyril took a couple of deep breaths, thanking his good fortune.
“How stupid would I be if I got this far and then fell into one of these traps? I’ve got to keep my cool and be careful. I’ll be all right. I’m lucky. I’m really lucky.”
Theron was dead. Hubert was dead, too. Wyatt would likely soon follow them. All of Cyril’s problems had disappeared one after another without him even having to dirty his own hands. “What could this be if not my good luck?”
Cyril had spoken that question out loud to no one in particular, but his eyes met someone else’s. That someone had been dozing in this part of the forest, likely tuckered out from getting so much intense exercise earlier in the day. The two stared at each other for so long that it began to feel awkward, as neither one had expected this meeting.
...After a little while, Cyril let out a strangled scream, and the six-legged sleeping beauty gave a grunt of surprise of her own.
“No, no, this can’t be!” Tears and snot ran down Cyril’s face as he set off at an awkward hopping run, trying to lessen the strain on his pained foot.
The furred lady just watched him go, blinking...until she realized she’d gone through all that work earlier without preparing dinner for herself. The lady stretched to wake herself up and ambled lazily after the former hunter.
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Gaius returned to the square to be met with cheers from the kobolds. All the injured kobolds who had retreated back to the village, the housewife alliance at the Command Center, and the elderly, women, and children who had been hiding in the forest greeted him with much jubilation.
“It’s the king!”
“Mr. Gaius!”
“Your Majesty!”
“Gaiuuus!”
Gaius was swept up in a torrent of fur.
“I’m back, everyone.” The king sat down so that he could extend his hands to his people and a second rush of fur leapt at his chest. It was Fluff and Amber Blossom.