Episode 151: Killing the Knight Order Grand Master

“Impossible…!”

Zefard, his body severed by Beatrice’s sword, cried out in shock.

“Our immortality has been cut off? How could that even—”

“Your mana and Lugdura’s mana. The boundary between them… I severed it with this sword. You can no longer wield Lugdura’s power.”

“What…!?”

He could understand it in theory.

But his experience as the Knight Order Grand Master told him otherwise. It was an extraordinary feat. Conceptual severance—the pinnacle of the way of the sword. A height he himself had yet to reach.

“You… accomplished that!? You’re saying you’ve reached that realm…!?”

Zefard’s upper body collapsed. And then—with a dull thud, the separated halves of his body fell to the ground.

“Guh… I can’t end here—not like this! I still… haven’t reached the pinnacle of the sword—!”

The pinnacle of the sword. He didn’t want to die until he reached it.

“I still…!”

“Oh…?”

A chilling voice echoed through the alley.

“You can’t die until you’ve aimed for the pinnacle of the sword, huh—”

Zefard immediately recognized the owner of that voice. It was the man he’d been glaring at earlier on the western wall.

“Siegfried…!”

Before he knew it, the silver-haired young man was standing right beside him.

“Very well. If you say you’re aiming for an even higher pinnacle of the sword—then go ahead and aim for it.”

With those words, the pain vanished from Zefard’s entire body.

“This is…!”

His body, which should have been split apart—upper and lower halves—were somehow connected again.

Though Lugdura’s mana had completely vanished, his body was fully restored.

“In light of your resolve, I’ll give you a chance. —You know what you need to do, right? Zefard von Lugardis.”

“…Of course.”

Suppressing the turmoil swirling in his chest, Zefard dropped to one knee. Then, he bowed his head before Siegfried.

“Lord Siegfried. —I shall become your subordinate.”

Inside, calm thoughts raced through his mind. This man, Siegfried, was a prodigy far beyond his expectations. After all, even his subordinate Beatrice was a swordsman who surpassed him.

(If we ally ourselves with this man… even overthrowing His Majesty King Luverios wouldn’t be impossible…!)

From the start, Zefard had no deep loyalty to Luverios. He only desired to become stronger, and served the king merely for that purpose.

And if he joined Siegfried’s side here, he’d likely be welcomed as a key figure. He could gain the power of a vampire and obtain even greater strength.

(Yes. By following this man, we… will aim for the strongest once more!)

In a quiet, weighty voice, Zefard declared.

“For granting this defeated one a chance… I am deeply grateful. From now on, this Zefard shall become your sword—”

“—Disqualified.”

Along with Siegfried’s sigh, cold words of rejection fell.

Unable to grasp the true meaning, Zefard repeated in a confused voice.

“Disqualified…?”

“That’s where, as a martial villain type, you should say something like ‘Then I’ll challenge you’ or ‘To reach the pinnacle of the sword, I’ll make you my stepping stone’ and come slashing at me. —I’m disappointed, Knight Order Grand Master.”

“What are you… saying?”

He’d shown his intent to submit. So why the disappointment? —What utter unreasonableness.

But unreasonableness was only natural. After all, Siegfried was evil.

“You make excuses to avoid challenging the strong, and mercilessly crush the weak—that’s your true nature. In other words, you’ve given up on being the strongest from the very beginning. …Isn’t that right?”

The coldness in Siegfried’s voice was like ice.

“Let me ask you. Why did you cut off Felix Nightray’s arm during the royal tournament?”

“Of course, to make him my stepping stone—”

“That’s not it.”

With a clear denial, Siegfried quietly shook his head.

“You couldn’t have beaten Felix without resorting to such means. If you truly sought greater strength—you shouldn’t have cut off his arm. Because you could have chosen the path of growing alongside him.”

Felix and Zefard’s skills were evenly matched. In that case, a path of competing and elevating each other surely existed.

Standing side by side and continuing to fight—that should have been the best way to gain even greater strength.

“But—you were afraid. Afraid of losing. And afraid that Felix would grow even stronger in the future. So you nipped that bud in the bloom. In exchange… you abandoned the path to your own strength.”

“You’re wrong! We—”

“You’re not wrong, Zefard.”

A blue glow of mana ignited in Siegfried’s eyes. Overwhelmed by that pressure, Zefard involuntarily lost his voice.

“—Even if you had other thoughts inside, what does it matter? I’m the strong one here, and you’re the weak. And the truth—is defined by the strong.”

The right or wrong of facts didn’t matter. —The moment the powerful decided it, it became truth.

Zefard himself had lived in such a world.

“Well, in any case, you’re no longer useful. —Beatrice, finish him off.”

“What!?”

Zefard reacted instantly, twisting his body and readying his sword.

At the end of his gaze stood the blood-soaked red-haired knight—Beatrice.

She was utterly battered. Wounded to the point where she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

From behind Zefard, Siegfried’s voice reached him.

“If by some chance you defeat Beatrice… I’ll add you to my subordinates.”

(Mocking us like this—enough is enough.)

Zefard cursed inwardly.

(Does he really think I can win in this situation…?)

In the earlier battle, he’d had the upper hand.

Though he’d been defeated by Beatrice’s lethal strike—the Unreturning Slash—he’d clearly been dominating until then.

And while Zefard had lost Lugdura’s mana, his body was healed.

But Beatrice was different. Her body was near its limit, and she must have expended an enormous amount of mana with the Unreturning Slash.

“Then as you wish… I’ll slaughter you!”

Zefard kicked off the ground, closing the distance in an instant.

Even without Lugdura’s power, his sword strikes retained their deadly sharpness.

But in the instant that blow was swung down—

—A keen sound.

The sound of metal slicing through the air reached Zefard’s ears.

“Wha…!”

In the next moment, his body was once again slashed diagonally in two.

What Beatrice had unleashed was a flash surpassing the speed of the previous one.

“Im-Impossible…!”

Until just now, he’d been evenly matched with Beatrice.

He’d lost, but he’d been dominating the fight up to that point.

At the very least, their skills should have been close to equal.

“It can’t be, you…!”

Zefard’s massive body collapsed to the ground once more.

“Did you… make me your stepping stone…!?”

The current Beatrice was no longer the same as before.

By defeating Zefard once, her swordsmanship had sharpened dramatically, surpassing her former self.

Now, the gap in their abilities—was so vast it couldn’t be bridged.

“Why…! I wanted to be the strongest…!”

“Don’t worry, Zefard. I’ll make sure to leave your story in the history books for posterity.”

Siegfried’s voice rang out mercilessly.

“—As the foolish Knight Order Grand Master who despicably cut off Felix’s arm in the royal tournament and clung to Lugdura’s mana to fake his strength. Etch your name in history as a weakling, Zefard.”

“Stop… I, I…!”

Zefard reached out his hand toward the void.

No one was there to take that hand.

If he’d chosen a different path, perhaps someone would have grasped it.

But he had cut off that person’s arm with his own hands.

The red-haired knight before him overlapped with the figure of his former strong rival.

“Felix… We…”

His voice sounded tear-soaked.

For the end of one who had walked the path to master the sword, it was poignantly pathetic.

Beatrice’s sword was quietly brought down—perhaps as her form of mercy.

Zefard’s voice would never echo again.