Episode 122
Just as the mages of this world project the image and mechanism of a crossbow to wield ‘Bolt Magic,’ Dale was no different.
“Bolt Action, ‘7.62mm.’”
It was an unmistakable incantation of a mage. A ‘universal image’ shared across time and culture, yet an otherworldly concept unimaginable to anyone in this realm.
Perched atop the bell tower of the small town of Polburnham, Dale adjusted his shadow cloak to mimic the form of a firearm. Four circles accelerated, projecting the ‘otherworldly image’ from Dale’s mind through his fingertips.
A sniper rifle, a precision weapon.
Bang!
In a place where not even a breeze stirred, the ‘shadow cloak’ fluttered, taking the shape of a gun under Dale’s will.
The Shadow Rifle.
An artifact of darkness that had transcended being a mere cherished possession to become a part of his very being. Dale, who wielded this artifact with ease, creating what he needed, was the very embodiment of a high demon known as the ‘Shadow Sorcerer.’
The power of a high demon to give form to darkness. It was only after Dale had unified with the artifact through his ‘shadow prosthetic’ that he reached this level.
“Reload.”
The sniper atop the bell tower pulled the trigger once more.
Bang!
A single ‘shadow bullet’ shot through the dark barrel, piercing the distant head of a Saint Magdalena knight.
The helmet shattered, the skull splintered, and brain matter scattered.
Bolt action, a manual reloading mechanism operated by pulling back the bolt attached to the breech. This method sacrifices rapid fire for the sake of durability, minimizing malfunctions in harsh terrains like swamps, and ensuring precise long-range sniping.
Unlike casting shadow bullets on the fly, each shot carried unmatched destructive power, speed, and accuracy. Even the aura knights couldn’t predict the lethal precision, falling one by one.
The cavalry of Saint Magdalena tried to turn their steeds, but explosives planted by the shadow court’s assassins detonated throughout the city streets.
Bang!
Amidst the chaos echoing through the city, Dale calmly operated the bolt of his Shadow Rifle. He reloaded silently and pulled the trigger again. Each mechanical action by Dale brought down another knight of Saint Magdalena.
In their confusion, the aura masters, led by the ‘Holy Sword,’ unleashed their full power.
There stood the ‘King of Pigs,’ leading the mithril-bodied, pure white knights.
A boar’s head with tusks like horns, exuding the ferocity of a beast determined to fight to the end.
A war god was present.
“Three aura masters, the rest are aura knights or below.”
Dale operated the bolt of his shadow rifle again, reloading and firing a shot that should have been an unavoidable death blow for any ordinary person.
Clang!
But Dale’s ‘shadow bullet,’ projected with the image of a sniper rifle, ricocheted off something. The blade of the Holy Sword. The ‘King of Pigs’ turned his head, calculating the direction from which the bullet was fired.
For a moment, the figure of the ‘Black Prince,’ hidden and prone atop the bell tower, entered his view.
“That Saxon brat…”
A mobile unit of about three hundred, protected by the Holy Sword as an ‘extraordinary force.’
Bang!
Another death blow descended. The Holy Swordsman moved to block Dale’s shadow bullet.
However, Dale, holding the high ground, targeted the rear of the cavalry. In the densely packed stone structures of the city, turning the unit was no easy task.
This strike wouldn’t kill the Holy Sword, but it could steadily chip away at the enemy’s strength.
Death could come from anywhere.
The cavalry of Saint Magdalena wavered, their formation unraveling as they tried to turn. The city’s entrances and streets were already collapsing, with broken stone structures forming natural barricades. Even the renowned knights of Saint Magdalena had no easy solution.
Except for the leader of the Saint Magdalena knights.
Reading the trajectory of countless shadow bullets, he identified the ‘sniper’ hidden atop the bell tower. To prevent further sacrifices to the sniper, the Holy Sword had only one course of action.
The boar began its charge.
Thud, thud, thud! Like a boar smashing through everything in its path, it ran, exuding the fighting spirit of a male beast. It crashed through the stone barricades blocking its way, charging fearlessly toward the bell tower where Dale was.
A distance of several hundred meters. Even with stone barricades blocking the way in the city, nothing changed.
Bang!
After firing the final shot, Dale didn’t hesitate. Even he couldn’t confidently claim victory against the Holy Sword, one of the continent’s Seven Swords.
But not all battles in this world are fought honorably. Just as he had hidden atop the bell tower, taking the lives of the Saint Magdalena knights with his Shadow Rifle.
From the height of the bell tower, overlooking the city, Dale leaped without hesitation.
As he jumped, the artifact ‘shadow cloak’ enveloped him, transforming him into a shadowy form that raced beyond the city.
Wraith Form.
Dale, like a specter, began to race through the city, leaving the boar’s pursuit behind. Passing through the stone barricades as if they were nothing.
It was then.
Boom!
“Did you think you could escape me, Saxon brat?”
Without a sound, the ‘King of Pigs’ blocked Dale’s path.
Despite his hideous appearance, the Holy Sword in his hand shone with a purity unmatched by anything else.
“Who said I was running?”
The ‘Black Prince’ asked calmly, looking at him.
“Do you think you can lure me in alone and handle me with your hidden lackeys?”
The Holy Sword smirked coldly, as if he had already figured out Dale’s plan, aware of the high assassins of the ‘shadow court’ hidden in the area.
“Don’t be so arrogant. It’s a mistake to think the whole world dances in the palm of your hand.”
“I’m well aware.”
By now, Dale had adjusted his grip on the hilt of the jet-black demon sword ‘Gluttony’ held by his shadow prosthetic. The two dark artifacts synchronized, exuding endless malice.
The light of the Holy Sword, said to be the most noble in the world, surged.
Four hearts seemed ready to burst from the repeated acceleration.
The opponent was a formidable force, unlike any Dale had faced before. A moment’s carelessness could mean death. Yet, nothing changed.
“Do you remember the war on the island of Britannia?”
Dale spoke.
“During the entire operation until the war ended, I inscribed a geass of absolute obedience to my orders.”
”…”
At Dale’s words, the Holy Sword’s eyebrows twitched.
“It seems that war isn’t over yet.”
Before the meaning of those words could sink in, Dale pulled out ‘two documents’ from his coat. Papers bearing Dale’s signature as the supreme commander of the Imperial Army, and the royal seal of King Charles VII of the Kingdom of Britannia.
“You…!”
It was the ‘indefinite armistice agreement’ between the Empire and the Kingdom of Britannia.
Even though the newly formed Kingdom of Britannia had fallen and vanished into history, and King Charles VII was no longer of this world, the law was inflexible. And the geass was moved by one thing only: legal authority.
“As the supreme commander of the Imperial Army, I ask you. Are there any reinforcements aware of your cavalry’s isolation?”
Thus, Dale asked. To his ‘subordinate’ bound to obey his command. The oath engraved on his heart.
“The, the, the, the Iron Cross Cavalry of Sir Sephelia… has messengers… who regularly communicate with them…!”
“Have they grasped the situation in this city?”
“From the moment your lackeys detonated the explosives in the city…! They would have immediately headed to Sir Sephelia’s cavalry to request aid!”
“How much time do we have until they arrive?”
“Not, not long.”
“Is that so? Then there’s no choice.”
In response to the Holy Knight’s answer, Dale shrugged as if he had no choice.
“As the supreme commander of the Imperial Army, I will speak of the divine contract you are bound to.”
Thus, Dale had no reason to hesitate.
“Pierce your heart with the holy sword and end your life.”
”…!”
“With this, the geass between us will be broken.”
With those words, Dale tore apart the two copies of the “ceasefire agreement” he held. The shadowy cloak’s blade shredded them into unrecognizable pieces, like a paper shredder. If evidence remained that he had threatened the Holy Knight with the holy sword while leaving the ceasefire agreement with the Kingdom of Britannia intact, it would have been Dale’s own undoing.
After tearing the agreement, Dale looked at the Holy Knight without a trace of emotion.
The holy sword in his hand was reversed, and his trembling hands began to move.
Hesitation lasted only a moment.
The “King of Pigs” drove the blade of the holy sword into his own heart.
Thud!
The tip of the sword pierced through his chest and emerged from his back. At the same time, the blessing of the goddess, bestowed by the first White Tower Master who had forged the holy sword, enveloped his body.
The sacred sword, meant to grant the wielder the goddess’s blessing and the power of light, was now paradoxically piercing its owner’s heart, claiming his life.
Unable to withstand the contradiction, an unknown light began to flicker along the sword’s edge.
The light shimmered, alternating between pure white and ashen gray, illuminating the “heart of the Holy Knight” that the blade had pierced.
Clang!
At that moment, the blade of the holy sword cracked like a turtle’s shell. The sound of shattering glass echoed.
Like tempered glass breaking, each fragment of the blade disintegrated into tiny particles, and the particles of light began to overlay the Holy Knight’s body.
In exchange for the sword’s life, the absolute defense power that prevents a fatal blow was activated to protect its owner.
Boom!
“A-ah…”
Amidst the explosion that engulfed the area, there stood the Count of Brandenburg. He could no longer be called the “Holy Knight.”
“A-ah, my fiancée, my love…!”
Despite having driven a blade into his heart, he remained miraculously alive. It was nothing short of the “goddess’s blessing.”
“You… you dare…”
The geass was broken. Yet, leaving the shattered holy sword behind, the man with the pig’s head muttered weakly.
“Do you think I’ll just let you kill me so easily…? I will never forget this. I will hate you in life, curse you in death, and damn you from hell…”
The “King of Pigs” summoned his last ounce of willpower against the “Black Prince.”
“Ah, I expected as much.”
But even in the face of the fierce aura swirling around him, Dale remained unfazed.
Despite losing the holy sword and suffering a grievous wound, he did not fall easily. From the start, Dale had never intended to kill him. He had anticipated this outcome all along.
Dying is not as great a pain as one might think. Just as many choose death over life, the most excruciating pain can only be experienced while living.
Dale adjusted his grip on the pitch-black demon sword, “Geass.”
“Since you put it that way, I’m too scared to kill you easily.”
Dale spoke, and with his last bit of strength, the “King of Pigs” charged forward.