Episode 29

Fierce magic flew back and forth as sword techniques clashed in rapid succession. A battle faster than two years ago. The growth of both fighters was plainly on display.

“Shhk! Shhk! Shhk!”

Lightning magic fired in quick bursts alongside thrusts that fully exploited the rapier’s traits. Aaron’s fighting style—putting his strengths front and center—had been refined even further.

“Hmph. A little faster. …Is that all?”

Zeke twisted his body aside, dodging the flurry of thrusts. At times he parried them with his sword and managed the exchange, altering his approach while instantly reading the lightning magic occasionally riding on the rapier.

“Now we’re talking, my worthy rival! Bolt Whip!”

A lightning whip cracked out from a backstep.

By imbuing his rapier, Aaron could attack at range—swinging his magic weapon in a wide arc that made full use of the spacious training hall and forced Zeke onto the defensive.

“The dance isn’t over yet! Lightning Spear!”

While deftly controlling the whip, Aaron fired another spell. The ease with which he used double casting was the mark of a true prodigy; the “genius child” name had never faded.

“…”

Zeke continued to evade the storm of magic. He sprinted freely across the hall, generating ice footholds midair and flying through the entire space.

“Do you have wings, then!? If so—how about this!”

“Don’t get cocky.”

Zeke’s figure blurred and vanished. By the time Aaron realized it, Zeke had moved above him.

“Moonlit Strike.”

A kick fell like a crescent moon. A body-technique combined with teleportation from a blind spot—Zeke’s own original.

“Tch!? As if this would—!”

Aaron rolled aside without even looking.

It was instinct born of experience—he’d completed countless jobs alongside Zeke. He immediately generated lightning around himself to deny Zeke’s follow-up.

“No openings, no carelessness. Against you, distance doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“Annoying. I planned to end it with that.”

“Hah… terrifying.”

Under the pressure radiating from Zeke, Aaron felt his body threaten to seize. If this were a real fight to the death, he judged it would have ended quickly.

(He really is a terrifying opponent. But you’re not my enemy.)

Aaron wasn’t underestimating Zeke. There was no need for a battle of life and death. Aaron considered Zeke a friend.

He’d used the grand word “duel” because he wanted to hurl everything he had at Zeke as he was now—and because he wished to convey something.

Aaron was born into the Izosaar Marquess House, a prestigious family of rank and power in the Kingdom of Diabalet.

A lineage anyone would envy, but he himself had never cared much.

As the third son, Aaron had neither the right nor the desire to inherit the house. No matter how many times he explained that to his brothers, they refused to understand and continued to push him out.

His skill with the slender rapier and his lightning magic were fruits of relentless effort—earned so that he would be acknowledged as his own person. Yet those very talents only deepened the rift.

Day by day, switching between his two faces—Royal Guard and intelligence agent—slowly ground Aaron down.

—He only wanted to be recognized. By his two brothers. As true blood siblings.

(Meeting you was in a time like that.)

He lashed away the hail of ice raining from above with a flexing lightning whip. He blocked it all, yet had no moment to relax.

Sensing danger, Aaron sprang back—just as a reaper’s scythe passed over where his head had been. Zeke swung a massive scythe formed of magic as if it weighed nothing.

When Aaron first met Zeke under Aktor’s orders, he felt one thing: solitude.

That insolent posture that ignored the hateful stares aimed at him as Lagias; the stream of insults that never stopped even before the powerful.

He was shocked by a way of being that seemed ready to turn the whole world into an enemy. He couldn’t help but wonder what drove him so. And he was moved—Zeke never viewed others through colored lenses; he rejected everyone equally.

(Father treated me like a tool. My brothers wouldn’t acknowledge me. The world only saw me as a “genius.” You were the only one who never treated me as special.)

Zeke lived without pretense. A solitary existence advancing without regard for the Lagias name. Aaron began to want to see the scenery Zeke saw—and to swing his own strength for that purpose.

(The truth behind the Lagias everyone condemns doesn’t matter. If you stain your hands with evil… then I’ll walk that wicked road with you.)

Zeke kept moving. The Lagias Devil shining bright.

But now his stride was slowing—his light was dimming. —That must not be allowed. He had to remain himself. No one could be permitted to shackle his path.

“Izosaar-style Court Swordsmanship—”

“—Too slow.”

All killing intent, mana, and presence vanished from Zeke. The strike—an emptiness—hit Aaron cleanly and sent him tumbling across the ground. He only stopped after slamming into the wall.

(A heavy kick. But if it were you then… that blow would have dropped me.)

Aaron’s own growth was part of it, but Zeke had grown too. If so, something else was binding Zeke. —Aaron refused to accept that.

(Then I’ll… break your shackle myself.)

The yellow lightning gradually shifted into a pale blue-white. It mixed with the blood leaking from Aaron’s mouth, until at last it became red lightning.

“Izosaar-style Court Swordsmanship: Roaring Thunder.”

Aaron wrapped himself in a crimson roar of lightning.

He would meet Zeke with the greatest power he possessed.

Aaron, housing red lightning. Considering lightning’s nature, enhanced physical ability was expected—but wrapping lightning mana around the body like armor was something Zeke (Hiroto) had never seen. He bared clear caution at a combat style absent from the original story.

“Calamity Thunder!”

“!? Damn it!”

Crimson lightning surged forward as if chewing up the earth—multiple bolts with both speed and lethal force, lunging to devour their target.

“Icicle Protect!”

Zeke blocked with a hastily formed spell, but some bolts slipped through the ice wall and snapped their fangs.

“Spells have an origin, don’t they?”

Zeke drew his sword and slashed once. The red jaw scattered into mist in an instant.

(He chained spells by himself? Too fast.)

Zeke tried to target Aaron to stop the barrage—only to find Aaron had vanished. With lightning-clad high-speed movement, Aaron took his back.

“Watt!? How are you keeping up!?”

Zeke caught the thrust on the flat of his blade. The exchange turned into a flurry of swordplay, but he continued to handle it without falling behind even against Aaron’s strengthened state.

“Idiot. A Lagias without power has no value.”

“Then that’s exactly what you are right now…”

“—What did you just say?”

Their furious exchange halted, locking them into a close bind.

Aaron still wore lightning. Red bolts crawled and snapped across the floor around them.

“When we first fought, you weren’t like this. You crushed me with unwavering will. —So what is this now? Doubt is showing in your sword and your magic.”

“…”

“If I had to put it into words—maybe you’ve obtained a stronger sword than back then. But— the one swinging it has grown weaker.”

Zeke was the sword, and Hiroto was the one swinging it.

There was no way Aaron understood Hiroto’s circumstances, yet it felt as if that was exactly what he meant.

“Faster! I can still dance!”

Aaron unleashed a storm of thrusts.

Not just the body enhancement—Aaron’s desperate resolve pushed him further. Gradually, Zeke’s blade began to lag, forcing him into defense.

“Do you realize? Your speed is dropping little by little. If you keep taking lightning mana like this, it’s inevitable. …The old you would never have allowed a long fight!”

In Wish Soul, combat used a status-effect system. When you were hit by elemental attacks, you could suffer secondary effects—poison, freeze, burn, curse, and more.

The main cast had different resistance values per character, and enemies were the same. Bosses in particular had high resistances. Zeke was one of them—yet Aaron had obtained a shock effect that overcame even that.

“What have you been fighting for all this time!?”

“—Don’t talk like you understand.”

Zeke threw his sword aside.

He switched to an ice-formed shield and brute-forced the rapier’s thrusts aside. With his free arm, he grabbed Aaron and locked his movement.

“I don’t understand. You never talk about yourself.”

“Don’t get full of yourself, outsider—”

Aaron’s lightning spread even into Zeke through direct contact. Zeke grimaced at pain that felt like burning from the inside.

“I’m not an outsider. If anything… I’m an accomplice.”

“…”

“Izosaar, the Royal Guard… even the intelligence agency—none of it matters. I am me. I want to live as I please.”

As if the red lightning exceeded its durability limit, Aaron’s rapier burst apart and Zeke’s ice shield shattered.

They grappled barehanded.

“My friend… what will you do? Throw yourself away for others? Burn your life for a world that has nothing to do with you?”

“…”

“Live by your heart. You have the power to do it.”

Pain like needles from within.

Whether it was the lightning’s effect or the warrior’s words, Aaron’s voice stabbed deep.

Aaron was forcing himself too—grimacing as he maintained his power. —And that sight overlapped with someone very close.

“Heh… I see.”

“!? Surprise—”

He wasn’t swayed. There was no trust, no faith.

From the moment he arrived in this world, Hiroto had always been alone. And Zeke as Lagias was alone too—just as an “alien” like Hiroto. So he built power. To survive. To lose to no one. To be the one laughing at the end.

A way of thinking no one in this world could understand. He’d accepted that—because they were fundamentally made differently.

“To keep that much lightning mana deployed constantly… you need a body that can withstand it.”

“I spent years mastering Roaring Thunder and you—!”

But in front of him was someone like himself—an oddity. A distorted existence in this world, an outlier denied understanding. —Thisguycanbeused.

The thunder that had roared as one became two, overlapping. The amplified lightning tore through the training hall.

“Tch. Annoying to control. Not usable in real combat. …So that’s it? You talked big.”

“…You’re deploying healing magic at the same time.”

Healing the scorched body with magic. Using healing magic to brute-force the resistance he lacked.

Solving hassles with raw strength. Same as always. And it would stay that way.

“You entertained me. —Now scatter.”

“Triple casting!? Are you related to the Sage!?”

Zeke snorted at the idea. Don’t lump me with that hidden muscle-brained old man, he denied inwardly too.

Above them appeared a huge jar radiating freezing cold. Inside was an unknown liquid that froze anything it touched instantly—matter said to exist in the cold realm, something not found in this world.

“I endured lightning. Now then—how far can you endure this cold?”

“A contest of endurance… Of course! I’ll prove I’m not a liar!”

Aaron braced, showing no sign of retreat—his resolve unmistakable. Seeing it, Zeke muttered, “Idiot.” The jar vanished.

“? Why—”

“Hmph. This farce is over.”

Zeke dispelled every spell. Aaron, his tension snapped, collapsed to the ground. He’d run out of mana.

“Why would I break a pawn I can use?”

A soft light wrapped Aaron. His injuries were fully healed by Zeke’s healing magic.

“I’ll grind you down until you die. Be prepared.”

Leaving Aaron behind, Zeke walked out of the training hall.

For the first time in a while, the fog in his thoughts cleared. He felt slightly lighter. It grated that this had been brought about by Aaron—but still.

Maybe he’d been overthinking it. In the end, no matter what he felt or how he acted, what he sought was the same.

There was no need to obey the scenario. Self-sacrifice was out of the question. Crush anyone he disliked. If necessary, be ready to dirty his hands. If people died in front of him, then forcefully save them. If people unrelated to him exited the stage on their own, then let them. He didn’t care.

Zeke (Hiroto) had Zeke (Hiroto)’s way.

When he opened the training hall door and stepped out, a crowd had gathered—Association staff and adventurers alike.

After a fight that violent, it was only natural the sound and tremors reached the upper floors.

“Get lost, trash.”

The spectators scattered like spiders.

Zeke advanced slowly after them.

Aaron remained alone in the training hall after Zeke left. Every wound had been healed, but recovering spent mana would take time. He sat on the floor and rested.

“Hah… that’s more like it…”

Looking over the wrecked training hall, he thought: from appearances alone it might look like he fought well—but in truth, it was a complete loss. Zeke was layers above him.

(Same as two years ago. I got crushed, and yet my heart feels so clear.)

Smiling, Aaron spread out flat on his back. If the Izosaar family saw him like this, who knew what they’d say. —But it didn’t matter.

(My eyes weren’t wrong. With him…)

He felt he could walk together endlessly.

As an aside, the repair bill for the ruined training hall somehow made its way around and ended up being charged to Aktor—another story entirely.

“Wha—!? What is this invoice!?”