Episode 200
* * *
Avatar of the Master of the Sword.
Pierrot was there.
He was a clown wearing a ridiculous clown mask, and countless threads were hanging from his fingers. He was an instructor with a blood-red aura.
And one of those wires was wrapping itself around Dale’s Auror Blade, blocking it.
“A clown. In a way, he’s quite plausible.”
Dale smiled bitterly at the sight. But Master Baro did not smile.
“Now, I really don’t know if my balls will fly away.”
The clown in the clown mask said. A clown who doesn’t smile. Under his eyes were white and black tears drawn in ink.
Master Baro moved both arms. The blood-red wires tied to each of his fingers began to swirl with a cold, murderous aura.
“Yeah, it should be like this.”
“Confucius… … !”
“Both of you, I entrust you with my life when the time comes.”
Dale said. No matter what, even Dale couldn’t guarantee 100% survival against the continent’s Seven Swords, which were deploying the Avatar, and even against the Salgeom. Especially when he was trying to recall the unfamiliar sensation of the Aura without the Avatar of Magic and Shadow Armor.
But this is just right. Because I can’t recall the feeling of that time without standing on the border between life and death.
To regain the self of when he was a warrior, and to obtain the avatar of the ‘Black Prince’ instead of the Shadow Lord. Without becoming an Aura Master, he would never be able to survive against the strong men in the ‘Trial of the Sword’.
Just like the sword and the clown in front of Dale right now.
The bloody thread tied to the clown’s hand swayed. There was no doubt about the cutting power of that wire. An eerie feeling of death swooping in from all sides ran down my spine. However, neither magic nor the armor of the dark blood could block that blow.
Only the sword. With just the sword, I have no choice but to trust the aura and body that resides in each and every cell of Dale.
Kaang!
Bloody threads were swirling around in all directions, and Dale was dancing in front of them. Between the black aura blades in his hands, a red glow like magma was engraved, and each swing of the sword cut through the bloody threads with a destructive power like an explosion of flames.
Choaack!
But just as he thought the wire had been cut, a fresh pool of blood was forming on the clown’s hand. And the blood began to surge forward, writhing like a living snake.
It was fast. There was no time to even counterattack. And then it happened.
As he swung his sword to block the blood flowing in front of Dale’s nose, a rage followed behind him.
‘Phase manipulation… …!’
At the same time, Dale squeezed every last drop of mana contained in his Auror Heart, and the Auror mass exploded and swirled around.
Kaang!
He condensed the blue aura into a strong energy and barely managed to block Master Baro’s surprise attack.
‘This is definitely not ordinary.’
The assassin’s sword, with its already cleverly swirling bloodlust, has the added ability of phase manipulation. If he really rushes in with a death-defying determination, it will only take a few seconds for Dale, who doesn’t use magic, to be decapitated.
“As a knight to knight, do you have any advice for me?”
Dale asked, adjusting the hilt of the knife.
“Haha, you still call me a ‘knight’ after seeing my appearance?”
Master Baro chuckled as if he found it ridiculous.
“Everyone says I am a disgrace to a knight. They say I am a bastard who stabbed his master in the back. So I thought. Since it has come to this, I will show you the real bastard’s sword.”
The fool is the very form of thought that the Master himself is looking at.
“Is there any difference between the two?”
Dale answered. Although he could not put his own identity into words, he could finally understand the inexplicable kinship he felt with him.
It was just then.
“… … Was that so?”
After thinking about it that far, Dale burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
What Master Baro’s words brought to Dale was the trigger that revived the Auror’s senses, now in Dale’s hands.
It wasn’t an article.
It doesn’t make any difference if you use Aura. From the beginning, Dale and the Master of the Sword were the same.
The otherworldly warrior, the empire’s greatest assassin.
The hound and the clown.
From the beginning, the warrior of the other world was not a knight. Just like the fool in front of Dale. Likewise, the aura and magic power used by Dale were not for the nobility of a knight or the magic of a wizard.
From the beginning, it was intended to thoroughly hunt down the enemies of the empire.
As soon as I realized this, the mana contained in my Aura Heart began to surge as if it was exploding.
“… … !”
Dale adjusted his grip on the hilt, finally realizing what his sword was for.
It was a sword for hunting.
“Hoo.”
In the still air, Master Baro swallowed his breath as if he was interested.
The air was different. I can’t tell exactly what changed. But what I can tell for sure is that something changed.
Taat!
Dale kicked the ground, causing the aura within him to explode.
The hound’s sword swung at the clown.
* * *
At that time, the Duke of Lancaster’s Castle.
The Duke of Lancaster, a knight with the nickname of the Heavenly Sword, was there. He was the last pillar of the Lancaster family, who had lost their second son Michael in the War of the Roses and were on the path to ruin as they were reborn as a puppet of the House of York.
Thinking of his trustworthy son Mikhail, he pulled out the hilt of the sword at his waist.
Sling.
The Sky Sword, known as the knight closest to the new sword, Lord Badel. The frost on the tip of his sword still gave off a cold light.
“The proud history of Lancaster will also end in my generation.”
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The Duke of Lancaster opened his mouth bitterly.
“Is this the price I paid for my loyalty to the Empire?”
The face of an old friend came to mind. He had claimed to be the standard-bearer of the Empire in the Lancaster War, had drawn his sword, and had been forced to watch as his country, which he had walked the path of the sword with, was trampled and destroyed.
The most noble knight in the world, Lord Badel Orhart, the Sword Master.
More important than friendship was loyalty to one’s country. But this is the price of loyalty.
In the Wars of the Roses, the royal family aided in the downfall of the Lancaster family, and was defeated by the York family, losing everything. From the beginning, the military force that the royal family sent to the duke’s family was nothing more than a show.
Even if we later realize that the truth behind the Wars of the Roses was that the York family was active in the ‘Black Prince’, nothing changed.
“It’s all my karma.”
He could only watch as his friend’s homeland was ruined and even the sword he had devoted his life to was lost. What the Duke of Lancaster was going through now was entirely his own fault.
“I don’t know how much atonement this sword will be for you.”
The Duke of Lancaster opened his mouth bitterly, and the tip of his sword glowed with pale frost.
Officially, all records of the swordsmanship of Lord Bardell were erased. Officially, that was it.
But even that memory cannot disappear.
“You’ve come this far, daughter of the divine sword.”
The Heavenly Sword spoke, and the Divine Sword’s daughter, Charlotte Orhart, remained silent with a very complicated expression.
After leaving Dale, Charlotte embarked on a journey of indefinite self-discipline, and at the end of it all, she arrived at the land of the Archduke of Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword. Dale was not the only one growing up. Even if Charlotte had left her lord, it would have been no different.
And ironically, Charlotte’s journey ended in the Lancaster estate where the ‘Black Prince’ had once left an irreparable scar.
The Archduke of Lancaster also knew this fact, but it made no difference.
“Are you prepared to inherit your father’s sword?”
“……yes.”
Archduke Lancaster asked, and Charlotte nodded.
A purple light began to flow along the sword of the Heavenly Sword.
It was the strongest sword technique, Sword of Blossom, performed by the divine sword Badel Orhart.
* * *
He swung his sword, and swung it again.
He didn’t even care that the blisters on his five fingers burst and blood gushed out.
From the time the sun rises in the morning until the darkness of dawn falls and the light of twilight peeks across the eastern sky.
After losing his father, the scoundrel of the Count’s family, Philipp Brandenburg, never missed a single day of sword training.
The majority of the Knights of St. Magdalene, having lost their focal point, left their organization and went to find new lords, and so the situation of the Count’s family could be described as a ‘fallen aristocracy’.
But there were those who stayed by his side until the end.
They were the ones who swore loyalty to the Holy Sword, and they willingly stayed by Philip’s side.
Although Philip had no talent and nothing, he still did not stop swinging his sword.
Some time later, when news came that a new holy sword had been forged, and that the holy sword had been resurrected from the ashes of a virgin who had been defeated, the sword’s owner was chosen.
The scoundrel of the Count’s family, Philip, was not discouraged.
The last chance to wield the Holy Sword was the ‘Trial of the Sword’ held by the Teutonia Knights.
I will prove it on the spot. It is not a false virgin who is worthy of the Holy Sword, but the son of the Holy Swordsman, himself.
* * *
“The sword test will begin in the Teutonia Knights.”
The one standing at the top of the white tower and church, the Lord of Heaven and Light, ‘Cheon Sang Gong’, spoke.
A false standard-bearer loyal to the Emperor of the Empire.
At those words, the false virgin holding the holy sword Durandal quietly nodded her head. She was wearing a pure white armor that was incomparable to anything else.
“May the mercy and loving-kindness of the sister gods be with you.”
The Celestial King spoke, and the pure-white maiden Aurelia smiled quietly. She left behind the blue spiderwebs that bound her body to carry out her beliefs.
* * *
Some time later, around Dale’s sixteenth birthday.
To prepare for the ‘Trial of the Sword’, swords from all over the continent began to gather one by one towards the Teutonia Knight Nation.
To perform a ritual to determine the strongest sword on the continent, the Seven Sword Ranks.
Dale, who had regained the realm of the sword, was no exception, and the three swords under his command and ‘Lady Shadow’ were no exception.
At the same time, the Archduke of Lancaster, the Sword of Heaven, and Charlotte Aurahart, who inherited his vision, the scoundrel Philip, and the virgin Aurelia…
Finally, the second-in-command of the Knights of the Iron Cross, the Swordsman Sepilia, as well as the Empire’s 7th Prince Modred and 1st Prince Lancelot have expressed their intention to participate.
Swords of various meanings gathered together, and the test finally began in the ‘Blade Mountains’, where the traditions of the old Teutonia Knights were embedded.
