Chapter 245

Valenstein’s goal was to create at least thirty thousand deaths in this place.

Losing the battle wasn’t a big deal, but losing without even putting up a fight was problematic. If that happened, only a few thousand would die, and it would all be over.

If that were the case, the destruction of the Holy Grail and the realm beyond the wall would once again become distant possibilities.

How long would it take for a war of this scale to happen again? He wasn’t sure if his aging body could hold out until then.

However, the idea of engaging in a duel made him uneasy because he couldn’t gauge his chances of winning.

Even Jin, with his bizarre slashes that seemed to cut through the air and his strange, burning red power fueled by his life force, had grown remarkably skilled in the time Valenstein hadn’t seen him.

The flames were particularly troublesome. Even if Jin used the Ghost Sword, he wasn’t immune to fire.

If Jin scattered those flames around, half of Valenstein’s techniques would be sealed off.

He probably couldn’t use that level of power repeatedly, but even if he could use it just one more time than Valenstein expected, it would be enough to decide the outcome.

‘…The last strike was definitely a normal slash. Was it because he couldn’t use it anymore, or was he conserving his strength? Which one is it…?’

If he stepped forward, he had to win. If he fought one-on-one and lost, it would be a humiliating death.

“Do you really think you can defeat me with just this much? It seems your brain has rotted from spending too much time between a prostitute’s legs, Valenstein!”

Hersela, noticing Valenstein’s hesitation, taunted him with a triumphant voice.

“That… that woman dares…!”

“…Don’t engage. It’s just a simple provocation.”

Valenstein stopped his aide, who looked ready to draw his sword.

He too felt anger rising at the young woman’s insolence, but he was no longer at an age where he would let his emotions take over and act recklessly.

“Where are you, Valenstein? Planning to hide like a rat again? No wonder you’re so pathetic at your age, unable to even defeat me!”

He wasn’t at an age of hot-bloodedness anymore, but…

“You old fool who wasted his life! If you’ve gone senile, why don’t you just lie in bed and rest? Oh wait, you probably are lying in bed—Isabella’s bed, smelling of fermented fish! Isn’t Ernst the traitor actually your son? The Empire’s greatest swordsman and the Empire’s greatest spear, what a perfect pair! Though I doubt either of you can even stand straight at your age!”

…It was a provocation that could make even the calmest blood boil.

Born as the heir of a mere baron, he had risen to the rank of marquis with just a sword.

No one had ever dared to insult him like this before.

‘Fine. All I need to do is win, right? Just win!’

In the end, Valenstein drew his sword.

=====[Hersela]=====

“Listen to you, your arrogance knows no bounds!”

Finally, the Ghost Sword had appeared.

Jin, gripping a longsword, was charging toward Valenstein with a twisted expression.

Well, at least he showed up. The taunting was worth it.

Judging by Ernst’s condition, it seemed that ten Paladins alone wouldn’t completely break their morale.

But if their strongest knight were to lose, things might change.

At that point, even the knights and nobles might lose the will to fight.

The question was whether I could defeat the Ghost Sword… but surely I could manage somehow?

If Hersela could do it, there’s no reason I couldn’t now.

Time to roll the dice again.

“Finally showing up, huh, you senile old man? I thought you’d gone deaf in your old age!”

“I’ll cut out that tongue of yours!”

Valenstein dismounted and charged with a ferocity unlike before.

I gripped Durandal tightly with both hands. This wasn’t something I could handle with just one hand.

I had taunted him plenty, but there was no doubt he was the Empire’s greatest swordsman. Even without the Ghost Sword, he was a formidable opponent.

“I’ll send you to your grave, Valensteiiin!”

“Ai-shan Gi-orrr!”

Jin and Jin clashed, letting out savage screams.

Crimson tendrils tore through the earth, and azure flashes swirled like a whirlwind.

Even the air was torn to shreds. The shockwave, wrapped in sparks, swept through the surroundings.

The onlookers forgot to blink, holding their breath as they watched the duel between the Empire’s strongest.

A fight that might decide the outcome of this war.

—-

The sword lights flickered wildly.

The stray slashes tore through the world, leaving the surroundings in ruins.

Indeed, Valenstein’s ferocity as he came at me with full force was terrifying.

The fight had already lasted twenty minutes.

Neither of us had used our ultimate techniques, but our skills were evenly matched.

Every time a vivid bloodline appeared on my body, he too had to offer his flesh to Durandal’s blade.

There was no moment to pause. Not for me, nor for Valenstein.

We moved constantly, avoiding fatal blows and swinging our swords to counterattack. Even as the blades cut into our skin, we paid no heed.

Hesitation would mean defeat.

“Doesn’t your severed chest hurt, Ai-shan Gi-or!”

“I’m still young, you know!”

I deflected the longsword aiming for my neck and thrust out my left hand.

A crimson claw shot out like a spike. Valenstein’s sword traced an arc, twisting my outstretched arm and sending it off course.

As Valenstein prepared to counterattack, four strands of…

The tentacles dig in like hooks.

Like a giant monster clutching with sharp fingers.

“Unlike a dying old man, scratches like these heal quickly!”

“I envy that!”

A flash swings like lightning. Two tentacles are severed in an instant.

As expected, a mere mass of life force cannot withstand the slash of Jin’s sword.

Twisting to dodge the piercing thrust, the shoulder armor is deeply scratched, sending metal fragments flying.

“Of course you’d be envious!”

Valenstein, kicked back, is pushed backward. Though there seems to be no wound from blocking with his arm.

With similar strength, it’s not like the others. If it were a Paladin, the arm would have been shattered.

With a similar force, the impact is deflected, making it difficult to inflict damage with a simple strike.

“Yeah, I envy you! I envy you to the point of madness! The power that seems to have inherited divine blood! The talent that reached a level impossible at your age! Even the flow of the era that welcomes you!”

What are you talking about?

Valenstein lets out a furious scream.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying!”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t! You don’t realize how blessed an era you’re living in!”

The entangled swords creak and groan.

Perhaps due to the excitement of battle, Valenstein’s eyes are filled with venom.

“Blessed, my ass! After all this nonsense!”

Ridiculous nonsense.

It was just luck that the damage was minimized; otherwise, the entire Empire could have been swept into the horrors of war.

“It was necessary! Without war and slaughter, the strong cannot be born! You’re no different!”

“What nonsense is this senile old man spouting!”

Twisting the hilt, the swords clash.

The crossed blades scratch each other as they fall.

“Die already!”

A crimson shadow extends from the left hand on the ground, and sharp spikes rise from the surface.

Valenstein, leaping back, swings his sword to cut down the spikes.

“That ferocious power! Your strength, tempered by countless slaughters, is proof that I’m right!”

The fluttering hem of his clothes is torn like a rag.

Perhaps grazed by a spike he couldn’t cut, a faint drop of blood seeps from his thigh.

“So, you’re trying to accumulate life force? To get a little stronger? You’ve gone completely mad! Instead of wasting time, why not hunt some monsters?”

“It’s meaningless! It’s all meaningless!”

Valenstein screams as if in agony.

The passion that had been building with each clash of swords now erupts like a volcano.

“Don’t you get it yet? This is the limit! No one can get stronger than this! For hundreds of years!”

A soul-rending slash.

For the first time in this fight, my sword is completely pushed back and deflected.

“Ugh!”

“Behold, this is the limit of our era!”

Valenstein pulls his sword back, as if to slice my exposed waist in two.

In the next moment, a blue flash rushes in like lightning.

[Damn it, dodge!]

The crimson barrier I raised is completely severed.

A slash that even with all my life force, I couldn’t withstand. It was the full power of the Empire’s greatest sword, not the Ghost Sword.

I can’t block it.

That sword carries decades of accumulation, the entirety of Werner Valenstein’s life.

A soul-infused strike approaches, cutting through malice.

Time fragments, and only one sword shines clearly.

In the flickering consciousness, faced with sudden death, my burning brain offers an answer.

I understood what it was.

The nature of power, its essence, and what lies beyond.

Right.

The power of life force was never truly mine; it was borrowed. Hence, it crumbles.

To face a soul-infused attack, I too must fight with the power I’ve accumulated—my own soul.

Achievement.

The six months I’ve spent in this world.

And before that, the life I’ve lived.

A door opens in my mind.

Though the gap is too narrow to cross, the light glimpsed through it guides me.

It’s not about imbuing my sword with power. That’s just a tool’s usage.

It’s not the sword, but wielding myself towards the world.

That is the first step towards transcendence.

The world opens.

Everything I am is contained within this hand.

“That’s your limit, isn’t it!”

A slash accelerated at an impossible speed cleaves through Valenstein’s body.