Wounded Paladin – Chapter 158

Chapter 11: Sword Saint IV

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I had repeatedly told myself that this must be some kind of mistake.

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The battle against the boss of the second layer and the Holy Knight.
And then the fight against the boss of the third layer and the companions he brought along.
Both were on a level beyond dimensions.

But still, Eris Gladius thought—

Certainly, those two possessed extraordinary combat power. The speed of their swords was something I could barely follow with my eyes.

However, if it were my master, if it were the Hero, he would surely handle such feats with ease. As I pondered this, the Holy Sword at my waist began to glow.

In that moment, my thoughts were interrupted, and a sharp pain shot through my head. It was common for the Holy Sword to shine during my thoughts, and for that to trigger a headache.

Strangely, this light was something I could only feel. No matter how many times I asked Mika, Angelica, or the Hero, “Did you see that?” they all shook their heads.

Each time, Mika and Angelica would chide and comfort me, saying things like, “That must have been tough,” “Are you getting enough sleep?” “Are you eating well?” “You’re exhausted,” “Stay strong,” and “Forget about what happened the other day.”

On the other hand, the Hero would say, “Good grief, are you trying so hard to get my attention? It’s so childish and immature. You should know shame. But, well, I suppose there are such illnesses, so I can’t completely dismiss the possibility… Oh, and they say mental illnesses can be contagious, so please don’t come too close to me,” keeping his distance.

After these exchanges, I realized it was impossible for them to understand. From that point on, I never mentioned the Holy Sword’s glow to anyone. Yet, even without speaking, the Holy Sword continued to shine, and the headache that had struck me countless times still tormented me. Despite this, I could never seem to grow accustomed to the pain.

Once, my master entrusted me with the Holy Sword during our quest through the Blade Labyrinth.
From that layer onward, the Holy Sword became my partner.
Every time I drew the sword and swung it, the blade would shine brighter, and the Holy Sword felt astonishingly attuned to my body as a Sword Saint. It was as if it were an extension of my limbs. I found it strange, perhaps even callous, but the Holy Sword I inherited from my master felt more like family than the sword I had received from my father and used for many years. It was as if it had become an inseparable part of me.

Even when faced with formidable foes emerging one after another, the sword responded to my feelings.

───If only my master were here.

───As long as he acknowledged me,

I felt I could achieve any technique.
I felt I could cut through anything.

It wasn’t just a figment of my imagination; I somehow understood that it was a feasible image.

A monster existed with a body made of orichalcum, one of the few remaining pieces of the legendary Divine Stone in the kingdom—a super-rare metal.

His enemy was the most formidable and notorious monster guarding the door to the depths of the Blade Labyrinth.
Its name was the last number of the “Moving Board”—the Queen of Divine Stone (Orichalcum Queen).

Yet, at that moment—Eris found that whether it was a strong enemy, orichalcum, or even a gourd, none of it was worthy of fear.

She lightly swung her sword as the image naturally welled up in her mind, turning the monster into literal dust.

Her heart trembled at having the Holy Sword she had longed for throughout most of her life, even in her dreams.
But more than that, she was overjoyed to be recognized by her master.

“Master, look at me.
I have become this strong.”

With that thought in her heart, she felt every cell in her body rejoice as she unleashed her full power before her master.
Fighting alongside him—standing back to back with him—was her greatest pride.

Yes.
It should have been that way.
It should have been that way—?
Then why was it different now?
I don’t understand.
I don’t understand.
I know nothing.
There are so many things I don’t understand.
Exchanging swords with him was the utmost joy.
He was the only one who could dispel my suffering.
He was the one who healed my unending loneliness.
Then why was I now tormented by such a profound sense of loneliness?
That feeling, which I had long sensed, had grown so large that it could no longer be ignored, firmly and heavily seated at the center of my heart.

Usually, this quiet feeling would rise up and stir violently at the slightest trigger.
The triggers were varied.
Seeing close siblings.
Watching a party fight together.
Observing two people with a strong bond of trust.

In those fleeting moments of everyday life, that feeling would visit—
And once it did, it would overwhelm me with thoughts like “It’s painful,” “Why,” “Why,” “Lonely,” “Master,” “Please don’t be cold,” “Again,” “Again,” “Why can’t we exchange swords,” “Why,” “Why,” “How did it come to this,” “Master,” “Master,” “Master,” “Help me,” “Help me,” “Help me,” leaving my mind and heart in a chaotic turmoil.

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I filled my stomach with the meal provided by the Holy Knight’s party. I could hardly swallow the portable food, but somehow, the plate they gave me was empty before I knew it.
Seeing Saintess Mika, who seemed to be gazing off into the distance, and Angelica, who was inexplicably sobbing, I hugged my shivering body, perhaps from the cold, and fell into my usual contemplation.

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This was the first glimpse into the inner thoughts of the heroine.

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