42. Sunset of the King (2)
*
“···Do you know what it means to draw a sword in front of me?”
Guimerin sneered as he observed Fernandez’s stance. A wounded body that posed no threat to anyone. Even if he had conquered the Verelide Magic School, there was no remaining magical power left in his body.
He already knew that Fernandez was Diemonica. But even if Diemonica had the nickname of “Butchers,” the limits of what could come from such a frail body were obvious!
-*Clash!*
Fernandez charged toward Guimerin. The acceleration was something unimaginable for someone wielding a greatsword. But Guimerin was an elf. Elves are a race that decides battles in an instant with their sword strikes!
-*Swoosh!*
Light flashed from Guimerin’s empty hand, and a blade emerged. Low-level magic like this was simpler than breathing.
Fernandez and Guimerin’s swords clashed, scraping against each other’s blades. Fernandez’s cold eyes burned close to Guimerin’s face.
-*Clang!*
For a moment, their powers clashed. When Fernandez swung his sword and stepped back, his blade was already riddled with marks of wear.
Full Saintmetal wasn’t a metal focused on durability. It was blessed steel, a sword designed for hunting demons.
-*Clang!*
Guimerin’s sword flashed, scattering light like waves. A tremendous pressure weighed down on Fernandez’s body. But he could still block it. He could still hold on!
Guimerin wasn’t using magic right now. This was likely due to the ritual he had been preparing until now. This was almost the only chance to attack Guimerin directly!
And Guimerin’s weakness was—
-*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
Fernandez frantically blocked Guimerin’s onslaught and retreated. Guimerin swung his sword wildly, laughing maniacally.
“Is this all? Is this all you’ve got to oppose me? Little human. Agent of the human god! Pathetic and miserable! Look at you!”
-*Clang! Clang!*
Fernandez bit his lip and kept retreating. Guimerin’s strikes were manageable, but the difference in the length of their swords made it impossible to counterattack. An elf, abandoning speed and choosing a battle of strength!
-*Grit.*
‘Right. The worst five minutes.’
Five minutes. The remaining time until the overload of the Bronze Throne subsided. The greatsword’s blade was gradually denting and breaking. Would it hold until then?
-*Clang! Swoosh!*
King Guimerin changed the pattern of his attacks. The strikes that had been aimed at Fernandez’s body now clearly targeted the cracks in the blade.
“Hohoho, let’s see how long you can hold on. I won’t kill you! I have so many questions for you. You’ll make a good conversationalist!”
-*Swoosh!*
Guimerin’s eyes gleamed viciously. Yes. A conversationalist doesn’t need arms or legs. Guimerin licked his lips and swung his sword toward Fernandez’s shoulder.
-*Crash!*
It was a fierce strike. The hand gripping the greatsword’s hilt trembled from the impact. The blade’s scream echoed in his ears. The sword’s lifespan was almost over.
Fernandez took another step back. Guimerin grinned and swung his sword wide.
-*Slash!*
“···?!”
Blood splattered. The dull impact of the blade cutting through flesh. Guimerin sensed that he had sliced through flesh, but Fernandez was smiling as he stepped back. He slowly turned his head.
“Cough···Ugh.”
The subordinate who had been performing the ritual at the altar fell, deeply cut from shoulder to chest, spitting blood! Guimerin hurriedly adjusted his blade.
“W-What?”
“King Guimerin. You should’ve been more aware of your surroundings.”
Somehow, they had reached the center of the altar! A cruel smile spread across Fernandez’s lips. You got too carried away with your attack.
“You bastard!!”
“I don’t start with just one move, Your Majesty.”
-*Slash!*
The Bronze Throne? That was just one of his many moves. Fernandez deflected Guimerin’s blade to the side and cut down another subordinate.
“Stop!! Stop it!!”
Desperation crept onto King Guimerin’s face. Fernandez smiled and raised his blade. The blade was on the verge of breaking.
The better the swordsmanship, the more it minimizes the load on the blade during combat. Moreover, unlike longsword techniques, two-handed sword techniques are optimized for deflecting enemy attacks, contrary to many people’s misconceptions.
Yet, they had exchanged such intense blows that the blade was nearly destroyed. It wasn’t just because he was on the defensive.
It was all a performance prepared for this very moment.
-*Slash!*
Guimerin’s attacks grew faster and more intense. Not because he had the upper hand. Guimerin was growing anxious. He kept glancing at the sun hanging from the ceiling.
One by one, with each attack, an elf subordinate was slaughtered by Guimerin’s hand. Fernandez skillfully retreated and swung his blade wide.
-*Swoosh!*
Guimerin’s blade slid along the greatsword’s blood groove. A perfect deflection, as if straight out of a textbook! A swordsmanship unique to humans, unseen in elf techniques.
Fernandez deflected Guimerin’s blade to the side and twisted his wrists, crossing his hands. With the sensation of flicking a lever, his wrists flexed elastically.
-*Clang!*
Like a silk cloth fluttering in the wind, Fernandez’s sword slid along Guimerin’s blade and aimed for the tip under Guimerin’s chin.
Guimerin desperately blocked and stepped back.
“Damn it!”
By now, half of the magic forming the altar was distorted. Half of the subordinates maintaining the magic in his place were dying. Fernandez turned his back to the remaining subordinates and glared at the panting Guimerin.
-Fernandez. It’s ready.
‘Ah, I shouldn’t get used to this.’
-*Tch.* You’re funny.
As Fernandez grumbled, Faijashi chuckled. The Bronze Throne was ready. The overloaded Bronze Throne had calmed and now shone with a deep blue-black light.
Fernandez crossed his hands on the hilt and leaped into Guimerin’s embrace. Even if he couldn’t deal with the remaining subordinates, the magic had already reached a point where it couldn’t maintain balance unless Guimerin directly controlled it.
When a Great Magic of this scale collapses, the backlash’s direction is obvious. The fate of this half-destroyed capital ship, already losing its functionality, would be decided in that moment.
“Youuuu!!!”
-*Clang!*
King Guimerin roared and swung his sword.
Facing Fernandez’s attack, straight and direct. The blade of the greatsword like lightning, Guimerin’s sword dug in—
-*Crack!*
Slipping through the cracks between the blades—
-*Clang!*
The shattered blade of the greatsword flew into the air! A glimmer of hope flashed in Guimerin’s eyes. Finally, his sword had broken!
‘Ah, it finally broke.’
Fernandez smiled self-deprecatingly as he watched Guimerin’s blade slowly approach in slow motion. Faijashi chuckled. Guimerin’s face grew closer. He was soaked in ecstasy.
-*Stab!*
Guimerin’s sword pierced Fernandez’s chest. A short, intense pain shot through Fernandez’s mind. *Cough*, blood spilled from his throat through the gaps in his lips.
“Hah, hahaha!! Fool! Regret this moment when you dared to oppose the Eternal King!”
-*Crack!*
Guimerin twisted the blade sadistically, tearing through Fernandez’s body. Fernandez’s lungs tangled with the blade, shattering into pieces. His breath no longer continued. A choked groan escaped Fernandez’s lips.
‘Yes. Like the body, the sword is a consumable.’
Fernandez, with his fading vision, forced himself to look at Guimerin’s triumphant face. Their gazes met in the air. Fernandez’s hand slowly released the sword hilt.
And his empty hand, embroidered the void.
-*Splat!*
Guimerin’s sword pulled out of Fernandez’s body, and blood splattered onto his face. Fernandez slowly collapsed, kneeling.
Through Fernandez’s clothes, the stigma glowed.
The organs, shaken by the heavy backlash, quickly returned to their positions.
The lost blood replaced by divinity flowing.
-*Thud. Thud. Thud.*
When the fading heart began to beat heavily again.
Fernandez’s hand, which had been flailing in the air, finally intertwined. The beastman was complete.
Behind Fernandez’s head, a sinister black halo burst forth and burned!
“Immortal!! Vaitas, how dare you! This is not what we agreed upon!!”
Guimerin hastily retreated, attempting to counter Fernandez’s magic. Slowly, the light forming the sanctuary’s magical formation began to fade.
Guimerin bit his lip. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t unleash another magic before the ritual he was preparing was complete. The balance of magic was disrupted. It was already beyond control.
Hope quickly faded from the king’s face. The magical energy forming the ritual began to rage like flames. The backlash had already begun. Overload started to take its toll on Guimerin’s body.
“*Cough!*”
“I don’t make a move without a plan, King Guimerin.”
Fernandez’s closed eyes slowly opened. Reason burned hot, instinct cooled down. Even in this contradictory emotion, clearly, precisely, without faltering.
The culmination of his experience as a mage. His magic never lost its precision, no matter the moment. Like a familiar task repeated hundreds of times, he drove a magical wedge into Guimerin’s ritual.
“How did it feel when you killed your son?”
“…What?”
“How did it feel to bury your son with your own hands, King Guimerin? Did you feel what I felt?”
Like the day I killed my son with my own hands. Did your world die that day too? Fernandez looked at Guimerin’s face. Guimerin, with a face distorted by shame, shouted.
“You cannot mock me. No one can laugh at me. I acted solely, solely for the sake of my people. Solely for the peace of my race!”
“Then you should have shared your divine spirit with your precious comrades, Guimerin. The great king of the Six Plains!”
Fernandez, leaning on the beastman, shouted.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think I wouldn’t ‘see’ this spell, this ritual? Did you think you alone could plan and execute this? Did you expect me not to recognize that existence!”
The sun hanging from the ceiling was itself a blasphemy. A greedy king who monopolized the last remnants of a dead god’s spirit to maintain his immortality.
The moment I first saw this sanctuary, I knew. I couldn’t not know. Even without the power of my visionary sight. I had used a similar structure of spells before!
Convergent evolution? No, closer to parallel evolution. Even if the races and schools were different, as long as the desired result was the same, the structures were overflowing with similarities. This spell was an attempt to resurrect a god.
“Judicial authority of the religious tribunal. Immediate execution authority for heresy. Authority to command exorcism troops. Authority to act as a proxy for church sacraments. I will conduct a heresy trial with the authority guaranteed by the Temple of the Gods, King Guimerin.”
Fernandez stepped closer to Guimerin, one step at a time. With his organs twisted by the backlash, Guimerin’s body gradually shrank. With a distorted face, he vomited blood and looked up at Fernandez.
Fernandez grabbed Guimerin by the collar and lifted him. He was light. Despite the heavy burden of sins tied to his soul, his body was as light as dust, insignificant.
“You, you have no right to punish a king! Inquisition Officer! Did you think about the repercussions this would have? If I die, the Guimerin Dynasty ends! The vampires will seize the disaster rights of the northeastern sea, and humanity will groan in pain!”
Fernandez’s grip slowly tightened around King Guimerin’s neck. The emaciated king struggled, bleeding.
“The crime of stealing the divine spirit. The crime of trespassing the Temple of the Gods’ domain. The crime of claiming divine authority. And the crime, as a father, of daring to covet your own son’s body and soul!”
“Sp, spare me! I was wrong. I was mistaken. There must be something you desire. I can fulfill your desires!”
Slowly, the strength in his grip increased. Diemonica’s divinity pulsed through his veins, and his hand, which had crushed trees barehanded, tightened around King Guimerin’s neck.
-*Crack.*
“May the Temple of the Gods bless us. The defendant’s sentence is death.”
-My desire is something you cannot fulfill.
‘Yes. Neither god nor demon can.’
After a brief convulsion, strength left King Guimerin’s body.
-*Rumble!*
The remaining candles on the altar also collapsed, vomiting blood from the backlash that came with the ritual’s failure. The twisted spell absorbed magical energy and began to burn. The magical formation was engulfed in flames.
There was no longer any point in driving a magical wedge. The overload had already begun. Like the core of a melting furnace, the sun hanging from the ceiling began to burn blue.
The sanctuary’s sun was setting.
A massive vibration spread from its center, and the king’s sanctuary began to collapse. The already sinking capital ship would now disappear into history forever.
“Hah…”
Fatigue welled up in Fernandez’s eyes. The backlash of great magic. The intense battle and simultaneous magical duel. From death to resurrection. Fernandez’s stamina was completely exhausted.
Fernandez staggered as he walked. He wanted to collapse and sleep right then. But there was still work to be done. It was time to conclude Infermur.
Fernandez grabbed the sanctuary’s doorknob and twisted it open. He had never settled down in his life.
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