Midnight Festival ② – Decisive Battle.
The arena at midnight. VIP area.
Not all, but some First Class Seekers were there watching.
Alhazardo Abramelin, seated in the place of honor, stroked his beard and said.
“He truly intends to win, doesn’t he? Your disciple.”
“Well, well, that’s only natural, you know. We’ve done all sorts of things for that very purpose. I’m sure you already know what and how we did them, don’t you?”
The Witch’s jade-green eyes gazed at him bewitchingly.
Alhazardo Abramelin sighed.
“…Honestly, I never thought you were that overprotective.”
“Oh my, oh my, it’s only natural for a master to be devoted to their disciple, you know.”
“That’s true. It seems you’ve matured thanks to him as well. How delightful.”
“Kon was an adult to begin with, you know.”
Alhazardo Abramelin laughed at the irritated Witch.
Seated directly below them were Pachira and Megatia=Megalopolis.
Pachira had Dagaa on her lap. Dagaa was curled up, sleeping.
“…Strong, ‘e is.”
“Indeed. More than I expected.”
“I didn’t know… Wof was that strong.”
“He must have gotten stronger. The Witch did something, you know.”
“That may be so, but…”
“Is it such a shock that you didn’t know?”
“That… might be part of it.”
Pachira replied softly, intertwining her two white Tails.
Megadia murmured.
“Wof-kun. He’s quite popular, you know.”
“…That he is.”
“Heroes are fond of romance, so Aashi thinks that’s fine, though.”
“Is that so?”
Pachira showed disapproval.
Megadia chuckled.
“It’s just that Aashi doesn’t particularly mind, you see.”
“You…”
Pachira gave her a reproachful look.
Megadia touched a finger to her lips and smiled even more bewitchingly.
“That time, when I said I wanted to make him my Hired Pup, I’m still serious about it, you know.”
“That lad’s already a Seeker, ‘e is!”
“Oh my, there’s no rule saying you can’t make a Seeker a Hired Pup, is there?”
“That may be, but there’s a huge obstacle. That vixen.”
“Oh my, oh my, oh my, White Cat. Do you have some business with Kon, I wonder?”
The Witch called down to Pachira from above.
She wore an elegant smile so captivating it would make anyone stare.
Pachira, stroking Dagaa on her lap, said with composure.
“Eavesdropping, what a fine hobby you have, Witch.”
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, the kittens were speaking loudly enough for me to hear, you know.”
“Is that so?”
“I think it was a normal volume, Witch,” Megadia interjected, sounding somewhat exasperated.
The Witch smiled vaguely.
“Hmm, hmm. So, you have no business with Kon, is that it?”
“More importantly, should a master be taking her eyes off her disciple’s crucial match?”
When Pachira said that, the Witch fell silent. Megadia gave a wry smile.
Dagaa yawned softly and blinked his red eyes.
A scene reflected in the corner of his eye for just an instant.
It was the sight of Wof lying in a pool of blood.
I was troubled and getting flustered.
It was because I’d used too many of my cards and lacked a decisive move. And then a thought occurred to me.
It’s not really important, but [Rêve Move] isn’t attached to the ‘Gauntlet of Still Saint,’ huh.
That ‘Gauntlet of Still Saint’ had also been shattered to pieces.
It regenerates automatically, but somehow I feel bad for the Witch.
For me, shattering Alveld’s armor and wounding him was a major upset.
But to do that, I’d used up all my [Knife Magic], and it was on cooldown.
I had one use of my trump card, [Rêve Move], left. My [Deep Silent One] was also nearing its usage limit.
For offense, I had [Vanish] and two knives.
I slightly regretted not preparing one more knife.
Alveld possessed swordsmanship far surpassing mine, along with [Crash] and [Impact].
And [Brechen], was it? I think it’s a Relic of collapse or destruction.
He said he hadn’t intended to use it on a person, but I kind of understood.
For him to use it against me was quite an honor.
However, he has many offensive options. And beyond that, he’s strong. I knew it, but he’s too strong.
His use of Relics is one thing, but his swordsmanship…
I think he has natural talent, but the greater part of his skill must be the fruit of his training.
Alveld is a man who doesn’t see training as a hardship.
That’s why he possesses a strength I can’t help but respect, almost to the point of resentment.
Alveld wore black innerwear-like clothing beneath his armor.
There was a hole in his side. The wound must have been shallow, as the bleeding had completely stopped.
Alveld said.
“The Witch’s dedication in bringing you to this level in such a short time is nothing short of admirable. And you, who responded to it… I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you very much.”
I was genuinely happy. To be acknowledged by Alveld von Rootbelt was an honor.
Alveld’s black eyes, holding a gaze sharp enough to cut, looked at me.
“That being said, I have no intention of losing.”
“Neither do I.”
I decided. I steeled myself to use [Rêve Move].
And it was Alveld who moved first.
“[Crash]!”
“Hyaaah!”
Without using [Vanish], I cut through [Crash].
Alveld, unfazed, unleashed his next attack.
“[Brechen] — [Impact]!”
“[Vanish]!”
[Brechen] was nullified, but the shockwave that followed was unavoidable.
I wouldn’t make it in time to swing my knife—no. I’ll make it.
This is my last [Rêve Move].
“Single Stroke Demon Slayeeeer!!!”
The sword strike I unleashed with all my might tore through [Impact].
And it reached Alveld. Inflicting a brutal vertical wound on his body, he crashed into the wall.
At the same time, I was also cut. A flashing, sweeping sword strike created a vivid horizontal gash on my torso.
In that instant, Alveld had counterattacked. No, was it a counter?
I coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground. Blood flowed from my abdomen, forming a pool.
I saw. Alveld was down too.
“…”
Fighting my fading consciousness, I somehow managed to take a small vial from my pouch and put its contents into my mouth.
My wounds healed in an instant, my consciousness cleared, and all my fatigue vanished.
There’s no rule saying you can’t use an Elixir as a recovery potion.
Still, feeling like it was cowardly, I stood up.
Alveld, leaning against the wall, was breathing heavily and spat out blood.
From between strands of his golden hair, he stared at me with eyes darker than anything, darker than night itself.
A shiver ran down my spine. And I felt it.
I felt as if, for the first time, I had caught a glimpse of Alveld von Rootbelt’s heart.
I felt as if I had seen, even if just for a fleeting moment, a part of his heart that perhaps no one else could ever see or touch.
Watching him, I took another small vial from my pouch.
“Alveld-san.”
I tossed it to him.
Alveld caught it, looking puzzled.
“Let’s settle this in the next five minutes. You understand what I mean, right?”
“…………Yeah.”
Alveld nodded and drank the contents of the vial.
His wounds healed, and he stood up.
Then, grinning, looking genuinely happy for the first time, he chanted.
“I am the thousand gods who protect the king. Pseudo-Deification Relic, [Thousand Kill Archos]!”
The final battle with Alveld von Rootbelt had begun.