“Missed again...” he muttered to himself.
“That so?”
Lernaean turned to the new voice, spotting the Crestfolk swordsman—one of Cobalt’s pets. He was the first to act during the execution. Lernaean had met many people over his long years. Few were worth remembering, but this man was one of them.
“Keele Strano.”
“Oooh, His Excellency the Prime Minister knows my name! I’m so honored.”
“Not the prime minister any longer. I’m the Sovereign.”
Keele cocked his head. He was insensible to the power of the royal caliber.
“How regrettable it is that you’re Crestfolk. If you were anything else, you would’ve been worthy of living in the new world.”
“Well thank fuck for that. I don’t want no part of this new world you’re makin’.”
“The whining of a sore loser.”
“We don’t know who’s gonna lose until we go at it. Otherwise it ain’t a real fight!”
Keele readied his sword slick with Halahala and charged Lernaean. His swordsmanship was completely different from a knight’s. Lernaean dodged, but the sword’s tip blurred like a mirage. Keele shifted his center of gravity slightly and pivoted on his left foot. Lernaean was deeply impressed as he weaved around the strike. An average knight would be helpless before this man. This was the art of a self-taught master—a once-in-a-generation genius.
“Aah... Truly a waste to lose such talent and techniques,” Lernaean muttered, stirring the royal caliber to action.
Countless slashes wrapped around Keele’s body, but just as expected, his aim was off. Keele’s body blossomed with gashes, his vitals untouched. They weren’t shallow by any metric, but he showed no sign of slowing. Sure enough, Keele immediately regained his footing and stood at the ready.
“Do you see now? This is the power of the Sovereign,” Lernaean said, observing the shock on Keele’s face.
“The Sovereign...? What’s with all the showy crap? It’s totally different from before.”
Lernaean grimaced. “From before? Do you know about my blood caliber?”
“I know all ’bout you. Your old man is Norg Edel Trouta lo Granapalt, the guy who decided two hundred years ago every Crestfolk’s gotta go under the knife.”
“Hmm, what a nostalgic name. But unfortunately, you’re wrong. My adoptive father’s name was attached to the proposal, but the real credit is all mine.”
Today really is a day for reminiscing, Lernaean thought to himself. Keele’s lips curved into a smile like a crescent moon hanging overhead.
“I see. So it really was you.”
Lernaean felt an ominous chill seeing this man’s earnest smile.
“I’ve been lookin’ for you all this time... For the guy who stole my pride, that is.”
“Your pride?”
“They fucked with my body. Made a whole show of it. Didn’t bother using anesthesia. Those goddamn nobles laughed every time I screamed. I’ll never forget that humiliation. I’ve survived until now to butcher the one who did that to me.”
“So long as I possess the royal caliber, that will have to remain a fantasy.”
“Blood calibers fall apart when they lose contact with their owner. ’Cept yours, for some reason. That’s the way your blood caliber works. “Oooohh, it’s a whip, don’t mind me, I’m just your garden variety vampire”—eat my whole ass. I know what a whip cuts like.”
“Wonderful. Only a few people have seen through its true nature over the ages. You’re the only one who still lives. My blood caliber is a flying blade. It’s far too quick to be seen by the eye, but just to complete the picture for you, it’s shaped like a butterfly. As royalty, my blood caliber’s nature has always been closest to the Sovereign’s.”
“So, it’s just like Nagi said.”
“Your little brother... Was he the one to figure it out?”
Nagi Strano. The boy blundered into Lernaean’s plans by meeting Saya. By his initial evaluation of the boy he would be of no further consequence, but looking back on it, his role in the revolution was essential. It was difficult to see, but perhaps that boy truly did possess something outstanding. He, at least, could be preserved if he wished to live, even if there was no saving the elder Strano. Lernaean could always have him disappeared if he proved disappointing.
“He’s just that kinda guy. He gets all clever at times like these. He’s always screwin’ up, but he gets things right when there’s real skin in the game.”
“When it comes to his most important decision, I wonder—will that thread of genius you see in him hold true? Will he bend the knee to me?”
“What a haughty-ass... The Sovereign, huh? Ain’t the little lady the Sovereign?”
“Piece by piece, I inherit her power. When I have drained the last of it, she will be dust, and I will reach the fullness of the Sovereign’s strength. It won’t be long now.”
“That the reason you’re doin’ so much target practice? I gotta show a little gratitude for you takin’ the time to explain your whole business; now there’s all sortsa shit I gotta try. Let’s get it on!”
Keele leapt in once more. Lernaean moved to intercept.
“You still can’t use that power right, huh? Your aim is shit!”
Keele bent backward. A few blades scratched him, but he was beyond caring. His movements were fascinating. Keele flowed into a vicious remise, digging his blade into Lernaean’s body. He managed to avoid a fatal blow, but Lernaean couldn’t dodge the strike entirely. There was no need for him to dodge at all, really. He simply did so out of habit.
“A blood caliber can never prosper against the Sovereign. Halahala is no different. Jubilia didn’t understand this; she fought to the very end.”
“Like I thought... That scar on your chest is from her, ain’t it?”
“Hmm. I’m surprised you could tell.”
“I’ve had that woman’s sword on my mind every night, all so I can beat her next time.”
Keele steadied his breathing as he spoke. It was clear he would strike if Lernaean showed the slightest opening.
“Your dream will have to remain unfulfilled. Jubilia is dead—consumed by her own folly. No matter how much she trained, her sword could never reach the Sovereign. All she accomplished in her desperation was tearing my clothes.”
There was still a scar on his chest, but the wound itself had sealed.
“She died in vain,” he said, clearly provoking Keele.
“Don’t you dare say that!”
Keele unleashed a chain of strikes. Lernaean evaded them and retaliated with his royal caliber. As usual, his aim was off, but this time he left a deep cut in Keele’s stomach.
“That’s a hit.”
“I can still move!”
“Still, it’ll be dangerous if that wound isn’t closed soon. Have you considered giving up?”
Blood stained Keele’s clothes. He acted calm, but sweat was beginning to pour from his brow.
“I should be askin’ you that question. I’ve got your whole style pinned down in my head now.”
Keele went back on the offensive. His movements were marvelous. It was unbelievable, considering the wound he had sustained. He wasn’t bluffing, either. Even when Lernaean unleashed his royal caliber, he could only inflict minor scratches now. He no longer had the means to deliver a clean blow.
Lernaean truly regretted the loss of Keele’s talent. In such a short time, he had outmatched Lernaean for sheer martial prowess. Lernaean was slowly being pushed back. On the other hand, even though Lernaean couldn’t deal a decisive blow, Keele’s wounds were gradually multiplying. None of the cuts were deep, but combined with the bleeding from his stomach, it would take its toll in time. Keele seemed intent on settling this before that happened.