219

The situation was moving in the least desirable direction.

Now that we were on the verge of entering combat, there were only two things I could do—run, or fight.

However, there was an even greater problem before me.

Rachel had taken a sword from the case I had used to store the spirit sword.

Its shape was exactly the spirit sword I knew… but I could not sense its crucial presence at all.

(What would be the point of going out of their way to prepare a fake?)

Perhaps it had already been transported somewhere, and this was a trick because they were concerned I would move to stop that.

“I’ll ask one last time. Do you intend to switch sides to the Council-State?”

“No.”

I was a little surprised at how immediately I answered, but when I thought about it, I had answered the draft and become a soldier as a “model Imperial subject.”

If I nodded here, then the choice I had made in the past would become a lie.

That was my pride as an older brother, but now there was no turning back.

“…It isn’t as if I have no thoughts on the matter. But I am an Imperial soldier.”

“The Empire no longer exists. Don’t you want to be saved?”

“I do. However, the moment you did not use the location of a third test subject as a bargaining chip, I understood that the Council-State either has absolutely no intention of making concessions to a single individual, or that the remaining materials contain none of the essential parts. To begin with, I cannot believe the Council-State’s current science and technology can recreate the Nemesis Code. I had intended to use the holy sword as a bargaining chip… but now even that is no longer in my hands.”

Seeing me lightly exhale and ready myself, Lieutenant Colonel Kavasa stepped forward as if to shield Rachel.

“Honestly, I think it’s a shame things turned out like this.”

“We are both soldiers. It cannot be helped.”

The instant I said that, Kavasa came slashing at me.

I caught the first strike with both fists, but it was terrifyingly heavy, and the impact was strong enough to chip my hardened outer skin.

As expected from its appearance, it seemed to be a weapon meant to cleave by striking, and its ability as a cutting weapon was not especially high.

The moment I judged that, the arms I had used to stop the holy sword were pushed back.

I instinctively leapt backward out of caution, but as if refusing to let me create distance, Kavasa raised the sword he had swung down back into an overhead stance and closed in.

(His physical abilities are probably boosted by the spirit sword, but isn’t this too much of a boost!?)

I had never expected there to be a human who could trade blows with me head-on.

Every fist I threw was handled, and countless scars were carved into my hands.

Without my regeneration, I could see a future where I would be worn down and killed.

It seemed his self-proclaimed title of “strongest human” was no empty boast.

“Too soft!”

The fact that he said that and then stomped down on the tail I had used to sweep his legs really made me wonder what was going on.

On top of that, there was no doubt he had abundant combat experience.

I had not expected him to handle my fastest attack, which took advantage of my tail’s elasticity, on his first time seeing it.

Then came a volley from the rear.

It dealt almost no damage, but I could not avoid the reflexive stiffness from being shot, and as support for Kavasa after he had stopped moving, it was perfectly proper and irritating.

When I looked at Rachel, who was commanding it, she was observing me with a cool expression.

(The situation is seriously bad! This is not an opponent I can afford to hold back against!)

Then what should I do?

As usual, I would break through from the weakest point.

It would be difficult to shake off Kavasa while we were locked in offense and defense, but creating an opening for an instant should be possible.

I had not thought I would have to play this card so soon, but if it was to break through the situation, it could not be helped.

I struck back against the sweeping blow with my blackened fist, prepared to take damage.

From the clear pain in my fist, I understood that even in Assault Mode, I would not come away unscathed against the spirit sword, but the real move came next.

I opened my mouth and blew fire magic at Kavasa with all my strength.

It was merely a small trick to make it look like I had breathed fire—but its effect was outstanding.

No one saw through it at a glance as simple fire created by magic, and Kavasa also failed to perceive that it was nothing more than ordinary magical flame, forcing him onto the defensive.

He took one step back.

That alone opened the path.

I passed beside Kavasa and struck him with my tail, buying even a little more time.

My target was the rear guard—now there would be no one to cover his opening.

It seemed he could match me well in power, but what about speed?

The tongue click I heard told me the result.

However, before I could reach the soldiers holding their guns, someone appeared to stand in my way.

(Is she trying to die!?)

Rachel held the sword in one hand and pointed it at me, remaining motionless as she faced my charge.

I could not imagine her standing before me without a plan.

However, what she held was not the spirit sword.

Then what could she do?

(Does she know I can’t attack her?)

The possibility that she had identified that crossed my mind, but I could not detour around her.

I knew from the distance between me and Kavasa, who was closing in from behind, that I did not have that kind of leeway.

Judging that “this was the only way,” I drew back my right hand.

She was not foolish enough to take the attack head-on.

If she dodged, I would adjust to match.

In the worst case, I would grab her and slam her into Kavasa behind me.

There was only a little more distance until she was within reach… My hand moved, and my eyes met Rachel’s.

She was smiling—meaning this was within her expectations.

As if matching Rachel as she stepped forward in this situation, I heard a gunshot, and immediately after, felt pain in my abdomen.

The moment a bullet pierced my side, my body stiffened from a full-body numbness as if electricity had run through me.

A small “Gah” slipped from my mouth, and then Rachel’s sword came at me.

A mere sword with no spirit sword presence should not have been able to hurt me.

However, I chose to dodge.

I bent my still-numb upper body back and avoided the strike that had probably been aimed at my eye.

Then my neck was sliced open.

There was no way a completely ordinary thrust should have inflicted that kind of wound.

(I can’t sense its presence! No, did she erase its presence and disguise it as an ordinary sword!?)

I had no idea how she was doing it, but more important than that was the fact that Rachel had been chosen as a wielder of the spirit sword.

As if anyone could have predicted such a rare case, I spat inwardly and put distance between myself and her.

At the same time, while dealing with Kavasa’s follow-up attack and weathering the support fire, I somehow managed to reset the fight.

“To think you could erase the presence of a spirit sword…”

I wiped the fresh blood flowing from my neck with my thumb and showed them the wound as it vanished.

Facing two wielders at once was dangerous, even for me.

As for that interfering shot from the side, I still did not know the details, but it was fortunate that I had at least understood what it was.

“And you combined magic with a gun. I had wondered why one of the bullets had been embedded in my body…”

I honestly praised them by saying it had been unexpected, but unfortunately, everyone was unresponsive.

By tracing the mana, I knew the shooter was hiding among the soldiers, but it seemed the gun’s owner was skilled at hiding, and I had completely lost sight of them.

The situation was bad.

I nearly sighed, but held it back and lowered my stance.

Come at me—that was what my solid posture seemed to say.

Now that I understood I could not attack carelessly, I would switch to the defensive and aim for a counter next.

I had already shown them that minor wounds regenerated in the blink of an eye.

They must also understand that in a half-hearted exchange of damage, they would be the only ones losing.

(Now, what will you do?)

Standing in front of me as I tried to wear a fearless smile was Lieutenant Colonel Kavasa.

He held his greatsword-type spirit sword and faced me without the slightest hesitation.

As expected, they had no choice but to use him as their main axis, probably because the other wielder lacked the power to fight me directly.

Here, I considered my own victory conditions.

Originally, my first priority had been confirming Rachel’s survival.

However, an unexpected fact had been revealed here.

Rachel had become a wielder of the spirit sword.

In other words, she could no longer escape the front lines.

It was possible that she had no intention of doing so herself, but since that involved danger to her life, it was not what I wanted.

Therefore, seizing the spirit sword was newly added to my objective.

Would she stand on the front lines with the spirit sword in hand?

Or would she command the soldiers?

This was the result of my judgment that the latter gave her a higher chance of survival.

I knew full well that it was nothing more than me forcing my wishes on her.

Even so, I wanted her to live even a little longer.

“What’s wrong? Not coming?”

Kavasa invited me in with the greatsword in his hands, but I smiled and replied,

“I saw how your side defended in the previous exchange. Next, I’d like to see how you attack.”

“Kaah, acting all calm, huh? Are you analyzing the Council-State army or something?”

His tone was exasperated, but I did not think I was imagining the faint enjoyment in it.

Once someone possessed power, they wanted a place to wield it.

I felt like I could understand him enjoying this moment where he could fight to his heart’s content.

However, Rachel, standing behind him, admonished him.

“Lieutenant Colonel. I believe you understand.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s how it is… Sorry, but I’m going to end this.”

What Kavasa took out as he said that was a tube small enough to hold in one hand.

I would soon be made to realize that I had been mistaken.

Why had I, in a completely rationality-lost Assault Mode state, fled?

Why did they, who should have been fighting me in that state, show no visible injuries?

They had already investigated me thoroughly—I was about to learn what that meant.