Vortigern fell silent. His attacks halted. He landed on a nearby roof and stared intently at Crow.
Mercifully (or maybe not—who knew, really?), Muramasa declared, “YOU LOOK TIRED, VESSEL. TEN-SECOND BREAK,” allowing Crow to land on a nearby dwelling in turn.
“Phew, thanks for the break! Wait, ten seconds?! No! I need to talk to the guy! You sit tight!”
“Tell me, Vortigern. Your brother I understand, but why harm the people too?” Crow questioned (to buy time). “They’ve done you no wrong!”
Many had been injured and killed during the attacks on the Four Cardinal Cities and the black dragon’s release. What justification could Vortigern have had for that? Unlike Zilsonia, they’d done him no harm.
“Yeah, you’re right,” the vengeful prince admitted. “The common folk have done nothing to me. For what I did to them, I truly am sorry.”
“Then you’ll—!”
“But sadly,” Vortigern continued, “I’m not stopping.”
The next second, Crow leaped to the side—a split-second reaction from his puppeteer, Muramasa. A thunderous flash followed, and the house on which he’d been standing mere moments ago was crushed by a massive hammer enveloped in lightning.
“What?!”
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Our. Leader!” roared the man Vortigern had introduced as Girag, one of his top subordinates.
The man was a grotesque giant, about three meters tall. Wielding his electrified hammer, he shot Crow an intense glare.
“He took me in! Fed me!” the man yelled between ragged breaths. “You hurt him, I crush you!”
“Wasn’t Iris dealing with you?!” Crow exclaimed in shock as another attack came his way.
His black sword swung itself upward, parrying the overhead attack from young Nya.
“You! You’re another of Vortigern’s—”
“That’s ‘Lord Vortigern’ to you, scum!”
While being controlled, Crow was strong. He could shake off a small girl like Nya in an instant, with no fear of damaging his muscles.
But Nya exhibited superhuman strength to rival his. She took a second dagger into her free hand, her dual-wielding skills gradually pushing Crow back.
“Lord Vortigern is the king of the outer dwellers! Our hope and our light! We will never allow the likes of you to extinguish it!”
The sound of snapping bones echoed through the air.
They came not from the target, Crow, but from the attacker, Nya.
“Don’t tell me you’re controlling that body, pushing it beyond its limits?!” That’s, like, basically the same as me!
Yes, Nya’s bracelet—Tamamo-no-Mae, the Ashen Killing Stone—was her vessel, where her soul resided. In other words, her current body was nothing but a temporary puppet for the aethereal arm.
Just like Muramasa, the bracelet could control the wearer’s body as it pleased, destroying joints and muscles to unleash insane sword techniques.
“Nya! I’ll help you!” the giant man exclaimed as he drew closer, hammer in hand.
“Let’s go, Girag! We protect our king, together!”
The two fought against Crow in perfect harmony. The man’s thunderous blows threatened to sear and crush the swordsman, while the girl’s serpentine slashes weaved in through the gaps.
It was a joint effort, forged through their bonds—not as forces of evil, but as passionate friends.
Vortigern glared down at Crow as the onslaught pushed the younger man back.
“Hellthunder Girag and Nya of a Thousand Faces,” he began. “My beloved subordinates, both once on the brink of death in a cold village in the outer zone. Many like them exist within our organization.”
The outer zone—in other words, the area beyond the Spirit Wall of Berlin—was a dreadful place. Remote areas, far removed from the heart of the country, were especially bad. Few knights were ever dispatched there, and people were under attack from aetherborn day after day, constantly exposed to life-threatening dangers.
“Some get eaten alive by aetherborn, of course. But that’s not everything. Their crops, too, are consumed, and many die of starvation. They are the sworn enemies of the people living peacefully in the inner zone—every last one of them. They all want the inner dwellers to suffer. Why wouldn’t they?”
This was why Vortigern fought. He wanted to bring suffering to those who knew neither hunger nor pain, as was his people’s desire.
“It’s a king’s duty to grant the wishes of his people. And my people are the comrades I met and forged bonds with in the outer zone, where I was driven, who have entrusted me with their hopes.”
Vortigern readied his fist again as his fighting spirit surged once more.
“Hero, I’ve heard you, too, are from the outer zone. But if you insist on serving the evil emperor... If you say you’ll protect the people of the inner zone...” He took another thunderous step forward, more intense and heavy than the first, shattering the building underneath it in an instant. “If you insist on getting in the way of my people’s grudge...!”
As the wreckage of the destroyed building scattered, Vortigern raced across the fragments, each step stronger than the last, seeking to destroy Crow with maximum momentum—to fulfill his duty as king.
Behind him, Iris came running, shouting, “Stop!”
But before she could intervene, another female voice cut in. “You’re not going anywhere, Iris of the White Blade! I will protect our king, though my heart be crushed in the process!”
Vortigern’s beloved comrade, Karen of the Scarlet Blade, stood resolutely in Iris’s path, wielding her two powerful aethereal arms.
“For everyone’s sake,” the outer king said, “I will end you, Crow Titus!”
Thus did the end draw near.
Taking one final powerful step, propelling himself forward, he lunged at Crow like a bullet.
“What?!” Augh! I’m gonna die!
Crow’s situation was hopeless. As he dealt with the two warriors charging at him, their master closed in at the speed of sound. In an instant, Vortigern pierced the air itself, lunging at Crow’s chest.
Roaring, the terrorist leader unleashed his deadly fist.
Impact was coming in 0.1 seconds. Defense was no longer an option. Crow could picture death clearly in his mind’s eye.
I’m dead! I’m so dead!
He’s as good as dead!
Both men were convinced of Crow’s impending obliteration. The ending was set in stone. One side was drowning in despair, and the other basking in joy. This was it!
Yet, just when all seemed lost—
“We won’t let you...”
“...take our hero’s life!”
Two battle maidens descended upon the field of combat, standing defiant in the face of impending death!
“What?!”
Vortigern’s fist fell to the ground. The white-clad knight, Hypno the Crusher, had just swooped in from above, severing his entire arm with a great axe.
Then came the young genius knight, Vita von Kaambl, her violet gales sending Vortigern flying.
“My lord?!” Girag cried out.
“Lord Vortigern!” exclaimed Nya.
Shocked by their master’s injury, the two pulled back from Crow and rushed to Vortigern’s side as fast as their legs could carry them.
“Lord Vortigern! Your arm!”
“It’s fine. Don’t cry, Nya,” Vortigern grunted, staring at Crow. “Damn that man and his charm! Guess he has loyal allies besides Iris.”
The hero, too, found himself facing the concern of his two comrades.
“Are you all right, Crow?!” Hypno asked. “I’ll protect you!”
“What are you going on about, Hypno?!” Vita snapped. “I’ll protect him!”
“I’m elated that you two came to my rescue, but please, don’t fight each other,” Crow said. Ahhh! You guys saved meee! Also, please just protect me! I don’t care who does it!
“Hmph!”
Notwithstanding their friendly banter, the two knights turned toward Vortigern and his subordinates, furious and on high alert.
Vortigern clicked his tongue. “I guess this is it, huh? At this rate, we won’t even be able to retreat.”
This task wasn’t supposed to have been this difficult.
His brother, Zilsonia, was hated the nation over. With rumors running wild about his attempted assassination of the hero, people should’ve cursed at him with wild abandon the second he appeared.
That was when Vortigern, as the second prince, was supposed to come in. He would’ve made a passionate appeal to the people about his own tragic assassination attempt, and the people would’ve no doubt erupted into a riot.
After all, thanks to the efforts of his shadowy organization, the Order of the Black Star, even the inner zone was overrun with aetherborn, and the people were at their limits.
Fed up with the uncertainty and fear, those within the inner zone would’ve had a reason to play right into his hands and use violence against the emperor in defense of the tragic younger prince.
Even the knights present for the ordeal would’ve been unable to fight if their opponent had been an angry public, rather than ill-intentioned enemies.
But that plan had fallen apart.
“Damn it all...”
Crow Titus was strong, kind, and honest, to the point of tugging at even the old fool’s heartstrings. Thanks to him, the emperor had died an honest man, destroying Vortigern’s plan in the process.
As a result, the fallen prince had half given up and instead entered the stage as the evil mastermind himself. He’d had to assassinate the emperor personally, with help from the subordinates he’d brought along just in case. Then they’d been forced to square off against Iris, who had rushed to the rescue. And Vortigern, unable to defeat Crow, had suffered a fatal wound at the young man’s hands.
“The Order of the Black Star has lost this time,” he muttered, acknowledging his complete defeat.
There was no light at the end of this tunnel. They faced four formidable opponents—Crow, Iris, Hypno, and Vita—and now reinforcements were pouring in.
Even the people, whom he’d planned on manipulating, regarded him with anger in their eyes as they evacuated the area.
“It pains me, Crow, but I must retreat!” he said.
“Wait!” Crow exclaimed. Yessssss!
The hero, the man who’d disrupted all of Vortigern’s plans, was pleased as punch that he didn’t have to fight anymore, piece of trash that he was.
Unaware of this fact, Vortigern punched down at the ground with all his might. In an instant, it blew open, sending debris flying everywhere like an explosion.
“Eek!”
It was the people who suffered the most damage. Because such a vast area had collapsed in such a short amount of time, those who had been late evacuating were sucked in, the debris of shattered buildings threatening to crush them.
“You dirty—”
Iris, forcefully knocking Karen away, rushed toward the civilians in a flash of light, rescuing as many as she could.
Hypno and Vita, along with the incoming reinforcements, also had no choice but to help the populace.
“Sorry for hitting where it hurts,” Vortigern told the knights as he and his men disappeared into the haze of dust and debris. “We’re not done yet, Crow Titus! Next time I see you, you will be a dead man!”
“Vortigern, wait!” Crow called out. Just go! Please! Get out!
Thus did the day when the vengeful prince attacked come to be known as the “Crossroads of Lemuria.” As history was being written, Crow—the man at the center of it all—made a solemn vow.
“I will defeat you, Vortigern! This I swear!” I nearly shat my pants! I don’t wanna be a knight anymore!
Solemn on the outside, of course. Inside, he was spouting garbage, as per usual. The irony that such a man would be seen as a hero remained palpable.