* * *
* * *
Two swords clashed in the blowing sandstorm. The moment the swords clashed, the sandstorm cleared due to the rushing wind pressure. A roar echoed through the sand grains bouncing in all directions.
Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Unity.
The moment the swords collided, Barta’s body and Lark’s body stiffened at the same time. A moment of embarrassment. A moment of stiffness. Even though it was only a split second, the two prosecutors shared the same sentiment.
The weight contained in the sword is different.
The weight I felt the moment the swords collided was on a completely different level from when I shared my sword with the swordsman in front of me in the past. The sound of the body pounding through the fingers holding the hilt of the sword is strong. Much more than in the past.
···In a way, it is natural.
Barta, the king of demonic beasts, faced the sword of death. Through the reunion that took place after hundreds of years of waiting, Barta grew. He regained his past self.
Lark Van Grace swung his sword in numerous melees. In the battle to subdue apostates, we faced forgotten ancient gods, and witnessed the feast of a man who wished to be a ghost at the end of his life.
Both prosecutors gained experience and enlightenment. They had advanced further than before, and both had stopped one step away from reaching their limit. The moment their swords clashed, the two understood each other’s state.
Kang, kaaaaaaang!
Hesitation and stiffness are only fleeting moments.
The two swords that bounced off each other collided again, following the same trajectory. This time, it is Lark who is being pushed back, but Lark does not try to force it like before. Accept being pushed out.
Okay.
Lark’s feet moved gliding. Accept the shortcomings of your body. By accepting inadequacy, Lark finds a different answer. As if it were as smooth as the sword of the sword saint Kalt.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga!
The sword swung fluidly and struck Varta’s sword. Three combinations. With three clashes occurring in a split second, Lark and Barta took a few steps back. Withdrawing does not mean avoiding. A moment of leisure does not mean a moment to catch your breath.
Squeak.
Barta’s sword swung, scattering afterimages.
Sword energy exploded along the sword’s trajectory and swept the area. A sword energy that devours everything it touches. In the past, Lark had to risk his life to block this blow.
But, as if to prove that things are different now.
“Cow,” Lark put his foot down. He swung his sword with his eyes wide open at the surge of sword energy. The moment Lark swung his sword, a blizzard struck. It is Lark’s mana and his own sword energy embodied by Lark.
The sword energy biting like a wild beast was enveloped by a blizzard. The sword and sword energy collided and the sound of swords clashing rang loudly. And then, the attack.
Sword energy and sword energy were offset.
Blood splattered from Lark’s forearm, as if it wasn’t completely offset. But the wound is shallow. So much so that there is no hindrance to the battle. Lark wiped away the blood that had sprung up and sharpened his sword.
“It won’t be like this.”
Lark opened his eyes wide.
“At best, I know it’s not like this. King of Demon Beasts.”
Lark knows.
The swordsman in front of me doesn’t open his sword like this. The prosecutor in front of me is looking at Son Dae-jung. As if testing to what level he had reached.
“Fight with all your might.”
Lark cooed and stamped his foot.
The driving snowstorm became a little stronger. White steam rose from the heated body. The red eyes became a little redder.
Those eyes.
That intense gaze.
The King of Demonic Beasts met that gaze and smiled inadvertently. Yes, that is it. I wanted to see that. With a smile, the King of Demonic Beasts slowly opened his mouth. What came out between the corners of the mouth was a human voice.
“indeed.”
The driving sandstorm has already cleared up.
Even if there is a wilderness beyond, and even if a strong sand storm blows, this space is isolated from it all. This is because the wind pressure created by the clash of swords removed everything.
“As expected, my choice was not wrong.”
Barta laughed.
He slammed the sword he had raised into the floor of the temple. Slowly raising his left hand that was holding his sword, Barta pointed at the young man in front of him.
“Ganikalt van Galatric. I had a rematch with him. However, I did not feel the same enthusiasm when facing him as in the past.”
Barta says while pointing at Lark.
“He is still a proud swordsman. He is still a swordsman located in a far, unreachable place. But…”
Barta groaned.
“I no longer felt any brilliance in him.”
The light that Barta longed for.
A brilliant light that cannot be understood. The light was no longer felt in the human. Unlike the past, the swordsman who had become a disaster no longer exuded brilliance.
“He is still terribly strong, but he wields a terribly beautiful sword… but that is not what I wanted. What I wanted was not a reunion with such a monster.”
Barta pointed to his chest with his raised hand. He pointed to the numerous scars left on my body. These are the wounds that a swordsman scratched his body with hundreds of years ago. He said, tracing the scar that could never be erased.
“What I wanted was a reunion with a human, Ganicalt Van Galatric. Brilliance. It was a reunion with a brilliant ‘human’ who sacrificed his life to prove something.”
A human being who has lost his splendor.
A prosecutor who became a disaster.
During the rematch with such a monster, Barta realized that his heart was not beating. He was a good teacher, but he was no longer a worthy opponent.
In the end, a rematch in the true sense could not take place. forever.
“so that.”
Barta glared at Lark.
I saw a young man standing in front of me.
“It’s you. Just you. Lark Van Grace.”
In my second life, only you gave me pride, only you made me realize will, reason, and purpose…
“Only you can be my opponent.”
And only you, who followed me to the bottom, can be my worthy opponent. My heart, which did not beat during the reunion with the sword of death, is now beating vigorously.
“So, please show me.”
Barta grabbed his sword again.
Barta drew out his sword with his left hand and let out a long breath. White breath escaped between my teeth.
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“Shine. Brilliance. Show me once again the light you showed me that day.”
Squeak, squeak.
The space creaked around the raised sword. Lark had a hunch. come. Everything that disaster has. There comes a huge wall that he must overcome.
Kuuk.
Lark, holding the sword, straightened his posture. His calloused palm wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Veins appeared on Lark’s forearm. His red eyes were bloodshot.
“······.”
There was silence in the carriage heading to the northern tip of the continent. Because everyone was watching Natida. That has to be the case. Everyone here knows. How strong is Barta, the king of demonic beasts?
An ancient disaster, Barta, the king of demonic beasts.
Everyone knows that he is a strong man comparable to the Ganicalt of the past, and that he is a swordsman who has reached the level of overpowering superhumans. Moreover, there are even rumors going around that he achieved success in the reunion battle with Ganicalt, the sword of death.
“···Lark, are you okay?”
Chloe finally opened her mouth.
That was also the question everyone here had. Lark set out to subdue the King of Demon Beasts alone. And, Raniel respected Lark’s decision.
Although they did not express it on the spot, everyone had the same thoughts about Lark’s decision.
“You’re reckless.”
It’s reckless. It’s difficult.
No one commented on Chloe’s muttered words. Because it was a topic that I sympathized with to some extent. It was the moment when Chloe tried to continue speaking, saying, “I would rather do it now.”
“well.”
Belnoa, who had been quietly listening to the story, cut Chloe off indifferently.
“I don’t think it’s that reckless.”
“···What do you mean, Belnoa?”
“That’s because you don’t know him. I don’t think it’s that impossible.”
Belnoir knows.
I know this because I am Belno, who has been bickering with Lark since my school days and fighting for the position of head and second head. To what level is Lark now?
“That guy, Lark, is much stronger than you think. Last time, I was a long time ago… but I became convinced after going through the battle to subdue the traitors. Ah, the difference has already widened too much.”
Belnoa laughed bitterly.
“He was originally running next to me, but now he’s far away. I don’t think he actually noticed it, but he’s different. He’s just in a different area.”
It was during the battle to subdue apostates that I realized that fact.
The sword that Lark unfolded there. Belnoa had a hunch as he watched Lark moving forward, sweeping away the forgotten gods. Lark was farther away than she thought.
“So, I’m not worried.”
“Belnoa…”
“Thank you for your words, Chloe.”
Chloe turned her head.
There was Natida, quietly closing her eyes. She slowly opened her eyes. The saintess’s green eyes slowly looked at Chloe.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I just wish for that person’s well-being and I’m not particularly worried.”
Natida smiled.
“That man swore. He would come back alive. He would come back victorious. I believe that. He is a man who never breaks his promises.”
Trust.
“What we have to worry about is the stage we must stand on. This is also a formidable and unknown enemy.”
Natida looked out the window.
The carriage, which had been moving for a while, was gradually slowing down. It meant getting closer to the destination.
With a squeak, the carriage stopped.
“Do your best on each stage. Didn’t Warrior Rania say that too?”
Natida slowly got up.
Natida smiled as she pointed to the open carriage door.
“Let’s go to our stage.”
Outside of the carriage. An endless wilderness.
There was a tower standing tall there. A half-collapsed tower. There is a tower there that collapsed at an angle and fell into the ground, splitting it into two buildings.
The tower at the end.
A punitive force arrived at the madman’s residence.
Squeak, squeak.
Raising the vibrating sword, Barta glared at his rival. He thought he was just a weakling, but before he knew it, he looked at the young man who had followed him to his feet. He must have been a young man who could have easily crushed him when we last met him in the canyon.
‘Not now.’
It’s different, the momentum.
It’s different, the posture.
It’s different, the atmosphere.
Just as Barta regained his past memories and became complete, that young man was also becoming complete in the battle between life and death. It is being completed by quenching itself to remove impurities. It’s shining.
“iced coffee.”
Barta was delighted.
Exulting, he grabs his sword. It’s just as the young man said. There is no need to hold hands. There was no need to swing the sword as if testing. This is an opponent that requires you to swing your sword with all your might. That would be respect for that person who made up his mind.
Cooung.
Barta put his foot down.
unstable body. In the reunion with the sword of death, half of his body, which was further damaged, was unable to overcome the sound and was shaking, but on the contrary, Barta’s sword became sharper than before. The tip of the sword, which had been shaking, settled down for a moment.
Suddenly.
Barta’s sword disappeared, scattering afterimages. A line was drawn along the place where the sword disappeared. The space begins to creak and distort along the drawn line. What protrudes from the twisted space is a huge sword.
In the past, it was a sword that defeated Lark in one blow.
The sword energy attacked towards Lark in a more perfect and sharper form. Barta does not leave Lark to react quietly to the surge of sword energy. Kicking the ground with a thud, Barta lunged at Lark at the speed of sword energy. Because that means giving your all.
Every time he took a step, the ground cracked. The path along which the sword was dug and raced was stepped on by Barta’s feet and turned upside down once again.
Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
A sword energy that races through space, tearing it apart.
A swordsman running through a space torn apart by sword energy.
Just before the sword energy reached Lark, Barta slammed his foot into the ground. Barta captures all of the recoil that occurs when a body that accelerates repeatedly stops for a moment in his sword.
Killing at first sight.
It is truly a technology worthy of the name given to it.
The moment the rapidly fired sword energy reaches the opponent, the swordsman who approached at the same speed swings the accelerated sword. The weight of the sword is placed on top of the sword energy once again.
It is a technique that can be performed because Bartai has the body of a demonic beast that transcends humans, and it is a technique that he has used repeatedly in the past. Most swordsmen could not withstand this blow and fell down.
Even the Ganicalt of the past had to take a few steps back from this blow.
‘Show me.’
Barta is delighted and swings his sword.
‘Show me everything you have.’
Show me your best shot against my might.
fantasy,
