Chapter 376

Asel arrived at the scene at noon, when the sun was high in the sky.
Every time the wind blew, the dust was rising.
A few days ago, we received multiple reports of a monster rampaging in the wilderness of the western Empire.
We’d gotten the occasional report of a mistaken identity, but dozens of them at once meant something was really going on.
Asel looked around from above and gasped.
“Oh, my God. What is this?!”
There were no signs of monsters or volcanic eruptions.
But that wasn’t the problem.
The barren wilderness had been transformed into an unspeakably complex terrain.
You could have sworn a beast as big as a mountain was on the loose.
“What the heck happened, did a monster really show up?
Thank goodness it was in an uninhabited area.
Cracks dozens and even hundreds of meters in diameter carved across the wilderness.
There were also several huge holes that resembled craters.
I wondered if it was a meteor shower, but there was no sign of a meteorite impact.
A few of the cracks were stained black.
It was so deep that even in the noon sun, I couldn’t see the bottom.
The sight of desertified sand pouring into black cracks reminded me of a golden waterfall.
“That trail is—!”
Ilsun Asel’s eyes widened.
He lowered his altitude and approached the Sacaman Rift.
Up close, I was convinced.
The black cracks were not immeasurably deep, but rather a tear in space itself.
And there was only one person he knew who could do this.
“Ms. Jaifa.”
It was an obvious Auror of Zaifa.
If so, this horrific destruction of the terrain was most likely the result of Zaifa’s battle with something.
But who the heck would do this?
And that’s what gives the rejuvenated Jaifa this much power?
My head was spinning.
He decided to first determine if there were any injured people around.
He closed his eyes and focused, and the waves of mana that acted as radar spread out in all directions.
His radar, which could cover the entire wasteland, was superior to any mage’s.
“Found.”
Sure enough, Asel quickly found the survivor.
Life signs were being detected down a crack so deep and wide that it could have been a valley.
Asel flew toward him at full speed.
We didn’t forget to repair any terrain destroyed along the way.
The cross-section of the dark crack was as smooth as a bar of soap.
The deeper I went, the more I smelled the fetid odor of blood.
Soon, facing the survivor, Asel clapped his hands over his mouth.
“Oh, my God!”
****
“Mr. Alogin. May I come in?”
“Alas–is that you? Come in.”
Nabiroze tugged on the doorknob.
A spacious room came into view.
The interior itself was old-fashioned, but the weapons on display gave the place a murderous air.
In front of a large fireplace.
An old man in a rocking chair greeted her.
“Welcome, Gongsheng.”
“How have you been?”
“Meh, same old, same old. By the way, I don’t know why you’re so polite when you’re a swordsman.”
The old man clucked.
There was an undeniable seasoning in his desert-cracked voice.
Alogin, the elder who once presided over the Sword Ritual.
His wrinkles, far more pronounced than those of a typical old man, testified to his age.
“Because you deserve an example.”
“I’m just an old man. My title lost its meaning the day the Holy Sword found its master, and the list of facets will end with my death.”
Alogin twitched.
The walls he looked at were lined with portraits of those who had served as elders.
All of the portraits except Alogin’s had white flowers.
“I thought I’d be the first to go, but longevity is a mystery, and I don’t know what keeps me alive so long now that I have no taste. Unless you’ve regained your youth.”
“You can do it, Elder. You once rose to the position of Swordsman.”
“No–I can’t reach it. The wall you broke is too far for me, and the privilege of staying in the season of your choice is not given to everyone.”
Alogin stroked his beard and laughed.
It was an objective realization, not a defeatist one.
There are some things you just can’t get to through hard work alone.
He’s had a rough life on social media, too, but he’s never been as strong as Nabiroze.
Nabiroze fidgeted with his fingers, unnecessarily anxious.
Every small gesture seemed to drain Alogin’s soul.
She was about to tell him to stop laughing.
“I’m glad, though. I’d like to see you become a swordsman again. You’ve lived long enough to know that’s possible.”
“Hmmm–I guess you could look at it that way, although I’m not sure it will remain black after today.”
“Huh? That’s not like you, why are you so confident——Ah, yeah. Zaifa, that friend of yours told me you were going to join the war.”
Alogin snapped his fingers.
It was understandable that Nabirozze was unsure.
Jaifa Turgun.
The creature that first taught Nabirozé the bitter taste of defeat had recently reached the point of metamorphosis.
If anyone could beat her now, it would be the tiger.
Nabiroze checked his watch and spoke up.
“If you don’t mind, let’s go, shall I give you a hand?”
“No thanks, man, I can still walk under my own power, and I don’t want to be treated like an old man who can’t cover his bowels.”
Alogin leapt from the rocking chair.
His original height had shrunk even further over the years.
Nabiroze breathed an inward sigh of relief that he hadn’t died of natural causes upon landing.
After exiting the elder’s room, the two entered the hallway.
“By the way, are you—.”
“Yes?”
“That’s funny, I used to be pretty popular with the ladies on social media, but I guess I was just a knife-wielding asshole compared to you.”
She was beautiful before the transformation, but now she was speechless.
The short haircut was particularly flattering.
When asked who he listened to and fired, he said he took the advice of his best friends.
“I’m surprised you have friends.”
“I can count them on one hand, and I’ve always been beautiful.”
“Hahaha, yeah, that’s how you come out, Ms. Navarro.”
“You’re going to have to stop smiling, people are waiting.”
“Alas–I see. This is the last sword test of my life. I’ll do my best to watch.”
“And take away the bad words.”
Walking side by side, they eventually reached the end of the hallway.
The sound of shouting was coming from beyond the massive double doors.
Nabiroze, his clothes well-groomed, opened the door with a flourish.
A cold breeze ruffled her bangs.
The view of the giant crater opened up before me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve arrived!”
At the same time, the moderator’s voice crackled.
Thousands of people gathered at the holy site where the search for the Holy Sword once took place.
They came to see a sword fight that had never been seen before.
There was no seating available, so they lined up on the rim of the crater and waited.
The scattered crowd’s eyes focused on Nabiroze and Alogin.
The moderator, holding the magical megaphone, called out again.
“Alogin, Elder of the Elders, defender of Parzan for decades, and Nabirozé, Lady of the Serpents, back on the throne!”
“Waaaaaaaah!!!”
The dead volcano realized its dream of resurrection, albeit briefly.
A wild cheer erupted from the top of the crater.
Contrary to Nabiroze’s fears, Alogin did not collapse, clutching his heart.
Instead, he smiled and waved to the audience who had traveled a long way.
“Greetings, everyone, I am Alogin, the referee of this sword tournament.”
“Nabirozeda.”
Nabirozadeh bowed his head slightly.
The emperor was sent a separate message.
Chairs for them were set up in the main hall in full view of the holy site.
The moderator, seeing that you’re both seated, speaks up.
“This Swordsmanship Decider was unprecedented in many ways, including the fact that it was held in Parzan rather than the Grand Circle, and that there were two challengers left at the end, neither of whom stepped down, so the two challengers will fight it out here to determine who will challenge Swordsmanship.”
There was no stir because it was already widely known.
There was only one man who could challenge Sword Castle.
Only the winner of this showdown would be able to challenge Swordsung.
Of course, fair play must be fair, so he was scheduled to receive intensive care until he was fully recovered.
At the edge of the crater that surrounded the holy site were two gates.
When the moderator finished, he pointed to the door on the north side and called out.
“Then we will enter our first challenger, Schlieffen Siniban de Grancia!”
There were cheers and applause.
From beyond the softly opened door, a handsome man stepped out.
Their handsome appearance, dark hair, and uniforms are always noble.
Aria, who was holding a magpie in the audience, cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted.
“Apa! Come on!”
“The sword that calls the storm, the undisputed genius, is at it again, will he be able to make up for his disastrous defeat last time?”
Schlieffen didn’t say anything.
In a state of extreme concentration, he couldn’t even look at his beloved wife and daughter.
His blue gaze was fixed on the door opposite where his opponent would appear.
In fact, the real final may not be against Nabirozze, but now.
“And now for our second challenger, a man as famous as Schlieffen himself, the black wind that sweeps across the north, the greatest swordsman in decades, Zaifa Turgung!”
There was an unwarranted cheer.
Schlieffen’s fists clenched involuntarily.
This was the first time he had crossed swords with Zaifa since he had usurped the position of Swordsman.
Slowly, the gates opened and The Shadow walked out.
A voice rang out that no one expected.
“Well, I’m sorry to break the ice.”
“What?”
Silence descended on the room.
The outline that emerged was not Jaifa’s.
The shadow, much smaller than a man, was taking the form of a human.
The shadow took another step forward, revealing its shadowed identity.
“Huh—? I don’t think that’s a Zyfa.”
Alogin’s brow narrowed.
Black hair and sunset eyes.
An optimistic gesture, tapping the hilt of his sword.
Nabiroze jumped to his feet.
“How come—!”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I miss you.”
Ronan whistled.
There were countless pieces of armor embroidered like stars.
The cloudless sky was bathed in colors unseen in the islands.
Nostalgia.
People you miss.
Slowly, he looked around, his gaze locked on Schlieffen.
“How are you, thief?”
“Ronan, why would you—.”
“It just happened. Jaifa is not coming.”
Ronan raised his eyebrows.
It looked like it had been in a fight, with cuts and tears everywhere.
Schlieffen frowned.
“You. No way.”
“Let’s get past the bullshit. I’m sure you’re not the most important thing right now.”
Ronan tugged on the hilt of his sword.
The holy sword, once the center of Farzan’s existence, was drawn without a sound.
The hilt of the sword, gleaming in the sunlight, pointed at the naked man.
“Your opponent is me. Schlieffen.”