Chapter 26 - Isn't This a Little Excessive? (2)

Delman, a Master Knight of Callivan known as the Third Sword of the Five Great Swords, was in an excellent mood. On this expedition, he had killed Kulkan, one of the eight chieftains—and one rumored to be particularly powerful even among them.

Of course, the method he had used to kill Kulkan would have been condemned by Callivan and the barbarians alike. He had challenged Kulkan to a duel, then killed him with troops he had hidden in advance, along with all manner of traps and poisons, when the chieftain came out alone. Though Callivan and the barbarians were at war, they had always respected each other's honor. By those standards, his actions were despicable beyond belief.

But rather than dwell on his treachery, Delman smiled at the thought that he would no longer have to surrender his position as Third Sword to Deus, the newest member of the Five Swords, and slaughtered every barbarian present.

Every last one, so that not a single person would leave that battlefield alive.

He could never have accomplished it alone, but the countless soldiers he had stationed outside beforehand, preventing them from witnessing the duel, made it possible.

Having successfully secured his achievement, all that remained was to return and report it. Yet when Delman returned to one of Callivan's outposts...

"..."

He saw it.

His hair was red, befitting his signature ability to wield fire. With tension written across his face, he and his knightly order, Crimson Flame, stared at the outpost on the dark gray earth.

At what had once been an outpost.

At the red bloodstains, scattered ruins, and thousands of corpses strewn heedlessly over the gray ground.

But it was not the ruins that drew all their eyes. It was the lone man at their center. Clad in the leather garments characteristic of the barbarians, he stood proudly in the middle of the ruined outpost. Then he turned his gaze toward Delman and began walking toward him.

At first glance, it seemed he was hastening his own death. Unlike the barbarian approaching alone, Delman had a hundred knights and countless soldiers. He was accompanied by an army so large that even one of the eight chieftains could never face it alone.

Yet despite being fully aware of that, Delman's expression remained tense. One reason was the devastation: the ruins had been shattered so thoroughly that they could no longer even be called an outpost.

The other was the presence he sensed.

Despicable though his actions had been, he was still a Swordmaster. He had entered the realm of the superhuman, capable of slicing off a mountain peak with a single stroke and taking the lives of dozens of barbarians with one swing. And he could clearly feel the ominous presence emanating from that man.

Then the man's voice rang out.

[Are you Delman?]

The voice sounded utterly inhuman. Merely hearing it shook his mind for an instant, but his astonishment lasted only a moment.

"Who are you?"

Delman instinctively summoned his aura blade as he answered.

[Then tell me, Delman. Why did you defile a great and sacred duel?]

"... What?"

[Answer me. Why did you defile a great and sacred duel—a mortal struggle in which two warriors staked their honor?]

[Speak.]

At the barbarian's next words, Delman realized that this ominous stranger was referring to his duel with Kulkan.

"Ha. This is a battlefield. Wasn't he the one at fault for believing a promise of a duel here?"

He spoke as though he had nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of, dismissing duels as foolish nonsense. The barbarian stared straight at him.

[You dare speak of a great duel in such terms?]

His tone was unmistakably filled with displeasure.

"... I already told you, didn't I? This is a battlefield."

[This is your last chance, mighty warrior who has reached lofty heights for a human. Duel me. If you win, I shall let you go.]

Delman did not respond to the man's offer of a final chance. He merely gave his knights an order.

"Everyone, prepare for battle."

The moment his order fell, the knights and soldiers drew their weapons in perfect unison. The knights of Crimson Flame, who had fought alongside Delman in the northern war and won dozens of battles, drew their swords and unleashed their auras, their faces resolute.

Watching them, the barbarian muttered with something like lament—and contempt.

[So these beings called 'knights' possess no honor after all?]

CRACK—CRACKLE!

The corpses around them began to rise.

"W-what—!"

The knights were aghast at the sudden change, but regardless of their feelings, it was already happening.

A knight whose head had been split in half.

A soldier with half his body blown away.

A standard-bearer with a tenth of his upper body torn off.

Slowly, they awoke.

And—

"It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts—!"

"Kill me—kill me, please—grrk..."

"Ghrkghkgrrkgh..."

The screams of the dead filled the gray landscape.

[... Mortals who possess not even honor have no place in this world.]

No—it vanished.

"!?"

It moved so quickly that even Delman, who had entered the realm of the superhuman, could not follow it for an instant.

But then—

[However—]

Delman turned toward the voice that suddenly reached him. The barbarian was already slamming down into the earth.

BOOOOOM!!!

The ground burst apart the instant he struck it. Boulders and gravel flew into the sky, and the soldiers and knights who had taken their stances were all hurled into the air.

Then the barbarian swept his foot through the air just once.

CRRRUNCH!

The airborne soldiers and knights were struck by the flying boulders and shards of stone, their bodies reduced to lumps of flesh. Without even time to scream, those scraps of meat splattered across the ground, forming countless red spider lilies.

"!"

Belatedly trying to swing his sword, Delman suddenly realized that his arm was gone.

"Aaaaaagh—!!!"

As Delman's scream rang out, the soldiers who had failed to understand what had just happened finally grasped the situation. In a single instant, a Master Knight and most of the knightly order he commanded had been devastated.

Fear swept through the soldiers.

"A-aaaaagh—!"

The terror that took root in their hearts spread like a plague in moments, robbing them of their will.

Amid the slaughter that had descended into utter chaos, Delman, now missing an arm, stared at the barbarian as though what he was seeing could not possibly be real.

"What... wh-what are you—"

Then the barbarian—

No.

The god of all barbarians, the Father of Duels, spoke.

[An honorable death cannot be granted to savages who know nothing of honor.]

Ultultus crushed Delman's internal organs completely with his rough hand. Only then did he look down at Delman beneath his hand, as though he had finally finished everything he needed to do.

A moment later—

"It hurts it hurts—it hurts—it hurts—it hurts—it hurts—!"

Despite his utterly crushed organs, Delman rose to his feet, spattering blood across the gray snowfield and screaming in agony just like the others. Ultultus smiled in satisfaction at the sight.

[All you savages gathered here.]

He looked at the surviving soldiers, their faces filled with terror.

[Prove through a duel...]

Then he offered them a duel.

[...that you are not savages.]

[If you do, I shall grant you an honorable death.]

Within a blood-red colosseum made from the dead.

####

Biran, disciple of the Master Knight known as the Fourth Sword, could not understand what was happening. All he had come here to do today was rough up a noble from the Kingdom of Asteria at the request of Carmine, his friend—and, in practice, a very valuable supplier.

Of course, with the six kingdoms bound together as the allied kingdoms, he should ordinarily have shown some courtesy even to a foreign noble. If a conflict went wrong, it could become an international incident in an instant.

Nevertheless, Biran had accepted Carmine's proposal without hesitation. The items Carmine offered were part of the reason, but after considering the circumstances, he saw no chance whatsoever of the matter escalating.

There were three reasons for his judgment.

First, among the six allied kingdoms, Callivan effectively held the greatest say, since it was constantly holding back the barbarians descending from the north.

Second, word about Count Pallatio had yet to spread anew. His reputation was still that of an immature brat who had become a count through luck, and he had no connections whatsoever in Callivan.

Third, even if things became a little complicated, Biran believed his teacher Piola, who stood at the pinnacle of Callivan, would somehow smooth everything over. Though his talent with the sword did not match Deus's, it was still abundant, and he had always been cared for under his teacher's protection.

For those three reasons, Biran had intended to rough up Count Pallatio, confident that he would suffer no consequences. Under ordinary circumstances, there would have been nothing wrong with his assessment.

But there was one thing Biran did not know.

Namely—

CRACK!

"Guh!"

Count Pallatio was the benefactor of the Master Knight currently hailed as a hero throughout Callivan—

"Ghk—!"

Deus Makalian, who had earned the epithet Swordless by slaying Kurga of the Snowfields, one of the eight chieftains, in a duel.

"Aagh!"

Biran slammed into a tree with an undignified cry. Fear and defiance filled his face as he tried to speak—

"W-wait! Lord Deus! You can't do this to—gagh!"

—but he could not get the words out. Before he could properly speak, Deus's foot slammed into his stomach.

At that, the knights of Yuzon, who had been showing Deus respect only moments before, instinctively moved to draw their swords.

"I'll leave what happens the moment you draw your swords to your imagination."

"...!"

He merely glanced their way as he spoke, and the knights involuntarily caught their breath and fell silent.

Then the one-sided beating began.

Watching Deus, who had appeared in a flash and was now beating Biran senseless, Alon remained outwardly expressionless. Inside, however, he was smiling with immense satisfaction.

'You've grown up so well...!'

He looked at Deus as though he were a son he had raised exceptionally well.

... What father would think that while watching his son mercilessly beat someone up? Still, Alon at least felt that this was something like a father's pride.

No, to be honest, it went beyond that. He even felt a peculiar trace of gratitude.

Throughout the journey to Callivan, Alon had kept thinking that Deus might not be particularly pleased to see him. Or perhaps he would be pleased, but that would be all. Alon had assumed he would feel absolutely nothing beyond that.

After all, he had never once spoken to Deus personally. More importantly, Deus had never sent him a single letter either.

So when Deus had called him his benefactor earlier, Alon had felt as though all his years of raising a son were finally being rewarded. Contentment showed on his face.

"He's good at beating people up."

"He certainly is."

Alon smiled faintly as he watched Deus demolish Biran before his eyes. By the time about three minutes had passed, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest.

He was grateful to Deus for going this far for him.

But five minutes after that—

"My lord."

"... What?"

"Isn't he going to die?"

Watching Deus mercilessly beat Biran as the latter clung pathetically to his trouser leg, sobbing and begging for forgiveness, Alon began to feel that something was amiss.

"Surely not. He wouldn't, would he?"

"I suppose not..."

Still thinking, Surely he wouldn't actually kill him, Alon watched the beating for another five minutes.

"..."

Biran's face was now so ruined that not a trace of the nastiness it had displayed ten minutes earlier could be recognized. Breaking into a cold sweat, Alon was reminded all over again that Deus, standing before him—

'Uh...'

—was one of the Five Great Sins.

Of course, that did not make his gratitude disappear.

It had not disappeared, but...

'It's nice that he's done so much for me, but...'

Alon watched Deus leave Biran, who looked half-crippled, and walk toward him.

"Allow me to escort you."

Deus bowed his head deeply as though it were the most natural thing in the world, prompting a sudden stir among the soldiers and knights. After witnessing their reaction, Alon answered.

"... All right."

Looking at Biran's bloodied wreck of a body, Alon had one thought.

'Isn't that a little... excessive?'