Chapter: 590
The reason I found Garad’s castle was not only to show Benedict my current skills, but also to objectively confirm how far I could go now.
Anyway, the fighting style I’ve chosen so far has been about gaining the upper hand and overwhelming my opponent, whether through stats or information.
If all else fails, I also used provocation to shake my opponent and disrupt a normal fight.
So, figuring out what level I’ve reached in the Realm of Nothingness was pretty difficult.
Since I was recognized by the God of Martial Arts as having one skill, I thought that was a decent level, but if I couldn’t feel it, it meant nothing.
In that sense, the knights guarding Garad’s castle were excellent test subjects.
If I could test how far my weakened self could go against those who were directly taught martial arts by the hero Garad, I thought I could feel what level I had reached.
The reason I didn’t use provocation and chose not to take the shortest route to conquer Garad’s castle was simply this.
“Thank you. O hero of the future.”
My lighthearted thoughts changed when I heard the dying words of a knight who was becoming dust.
The knight, created by the hero and who had followed his commands for many long years, expressed gratitude that sent indescribable waves through my heart.
Like when I saw the doll that inherited Garad’s memory leave one day.
Feeling complex emotions, I wondered whether I could embrace their lingering feelings after dealing with a few more knights.
The conclusion came soon. I am the Apostle of God, endowed with the Authority of Embrace.
If I can embrace even the Authority of Evil God, why wouldn’t I be able to hold their lingering feelings?
Having made that decision, I charged into the castle’s main gate and challenged all the knights there to a duel.
To compete in martial skills so that my opponent could acknowledge me and feel deeply that the hero they recognized was moving forward.
“Wow, you’re really strong! Truly worthy of one who wields that shield!”
This process wasn’t easy.
I was far from being in perfect condition.
In this situation, facing skilled knights solely with my own body and martial arts, while limiting the powers I could use like provocation or divine abilities, was horrifically difficult.
“I was deceived by your cute looks! You’ve got me!”
“That’s nonsense. You put your full power in from the start and lost.”
“It’s just a path of disappearance anyway. Who’s going to criticize a pathetic excuse?”
“I’m criticizing! You trashy ally.”
“Hehe! Ally my butt! We are brothers! Did you forget?!”
“Ah, right. That was true.”
My breaths became ragged.
My mind suggested that I should act instinctively instead of thinking.
My heart, racing like mad, protested to its owner with pain.
My trembling hands felt unstable enough to drop my weapon at any moment, and my once light steps became bound to the ground.
“How about taking a break? O hero of the future. At this rate… Um. I apologize. I underestimated your resolve.”
My mind told me I needed to rest, but my heart refused to stop.
I couldn’t slow down now because I had embraced too much, or so it seemed.
Being a person who acted more on emotion than reason, I willingly lifted my weapon, responding to my heart’s call.
Thus, I took down knights one after the other, step by step, until I reached the top of the castle, where a knight with a pure white shield and longsword, similar to what I had, awaited.
The knight flinched upon seeing my shield but soon smiled and took posture.
It was undoubtedly the same stance as Garad’s that I faced months ago.
Back then, I couldn’t afford to show awe against Garad. I didn’t have the luxury to do so.
To be honest, I wouldn’t say I’m in a particularly comfortable situation now either, but at least I didn’t feel like I was going to be utterly annihilated like back then.
I lifted my shield and took a step forward.
Having faced various knights on my way here, I felt this: I cannot be the heavy shield often seen in fantasies.
I do dream of being the iron wall that doesn’t waver against any attack, but my small stature is a significant problem.
Even if my strength is exceptional compared to my appearance, and even if my shield techniques are marvelous, it’s impossible to overcome the weight my small body bears.
Even if I can block fierce winds, how can I endure rising into the void?
Recognizing this, I finally saw a new path.
Instead of clinging to what I couldn’t do, I should focus more on what I can do.
Not as a warrior, but rather…
Like a Mesugaki.
Seeing my rush, Garad stepped back with one foot and pointed his sword straight.
A thrust. He intended to deflect the force of my rush concentrated at one point.
If an ordinary human tried that, they’d be called insane, but not Garad.
The knight who created a mountain out of standard earth would pierce the force packed in my charge and achieve what he desires.
I have no doubt about that.
Having faced him, I am convinced.
That’s why I won’t retreat.
I see his sword coming at me.
I slightly slow my steps, subtly shift my shield to the side to divert his attention, and amidst it all, with obviousness check the tip of his sword before measuring the timing.
This result wasn’t derived from research beyond the monitor, nor was it aided by other skills like iron wall; it was achieved by my own thoughts and conclusions.
The timing for parrying.
Ding!
A light and clear resonance.
I didn’t even feel a tiny bit of pain in my arm. In contrast, the tip of his sword was flung far away.
This is the conclusion I’ve reached.
Why should I take on the full force of an opponent?
That’s a method chosen either by noble knights or thick-headed warriors.
It’s not how a crafty little brat behaves!
The little brat who wants to tease and trample the opponent doesn’t care about being dignified.
Maybe it’s due to the exhilaration from my opponent’s bewilderment. I swing my mace with a forced grin, pressing my mouth shut.
Naturally, Garad tries to block my attack with his shield.
A shield exists to block an opponent’s attack, after all.
Boom! With a heavy impact sound and a slightly dented shield, I can’t help but grin.
It seems the fake shield can’t measure up to the real thing.
Slowly.
Bit by bit.
I crush Garad, the knight imitated.
Breaking through his shield, shattering his shoulder armor, severing the wrist holding the weapon, splitting the legs trying to grapple, and finally bringing my mace down on the fallen knight’s head.
Having lived in this harsh world, I’ve never taken a life.
I felt an instinctual aversion rise, but for some reason, I sensed the opponent wanted this end, so I swung my mace down with all my might.
The last remaining knight turned to dust and scattered.
[Ha! Looks like I've lost to the same opponent twice, huh!]
“I didn’t actually win against Garad. That guy is way stronger than this, right?”
[Then what of that? That's his strength, not the strength of his martial arts. From the moment you challenged this place as a warrior, this was a duel between his martial prowess and yours! And you won! I taught you, and you won!]
“Oh. So, you want to say grandpa won, huh?”
[Exactly!]
Seeing grandpa getting excited like a child, I didn’t even feel like teasing him. After all, he’d probably end up begging for me to ease up soon, so I might as well let him enjoy it.
“Hehe.”
As I stretch and soothe my weary body, I hear crying from behind.
Benedict was crying. The giant face of his was stained with tears.
“Well done. Wooo. It was great. Lucy!”
I tried to dodge his hands reaching to hug me, but he was way too fast.
Oh really! Isn’t it supposed to be that big guys are slow in fantasy worlds? Why is this guy strong and fast too!?
I was in danger of rubbing against Benedict’s filthy face, but suddenly, a Sloppy Fox intervened to block him.
“You! How dare you try to dirty Lucy’s beauty with that ugly liquid!”
“Don’t stop me! I must express my feelings to Lucy!”
“Shut it! You troll! Would your daughter like that?!”
“…Huh?”
Finally regaining my senses, I simulated a gag reflex to Benedict, causing his massive frame to crumple easily.
Ignoring the sobbing apology from Benedict, I stepped forward to reach for the legacy Garad left behind.
His sword, different from the shield he gifted to his friend.
The blade wielded alongside a knight named Garad against the Age of Myth.
A red blade that seemed to have a lineage that couldn’t be touched by even a speck of dirt, entirely different from the pure white shield.
Upon seeing that ominous blade, I froze.
I could use this sword as it is. It’s considered a semi-final weapon among the countless swords existing in Soul Academy.
If you think about it, this might be better than finality. The word “final” hides the notion of inefficiency.
Yet for some reason, I felt that I shouldn’t use this sword as it is.
I felt it when I first heard the knight’s dying words, I felt it while facing the knights of this castle, and I felt it again when I was about to finish off the last knight.
Some inexplicable premonition.
I realized what that premonition’s identity was.
Perhaps this is what powers are.
So, O knight who lived in the Age of Myth.
It’s time for you to pass your lingering thoughts to me and rest peacefully now.
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