Even If The Light Is Lost (10)

Azadine decided to take care of Hathir first.

He grabbed a Shadowsteel Blade he had picked up on the field and fired it with “Yellow Crane” from the Kazas Grimoire.

Riding a curving wind, the arrow traced a path that fell well away from Aldis and flew for Hathir. The arc itself showed how he hesitated for fear of hitting Aldis.

But Aldis stepped and loosed her own Shadowsteel Blade.

—KWAANG!—

The blades collided midair and scattered each other’s paths.

Aldis had enchanted her bow, but Azadine’s draw and bow strength offset much of that magic.

“You’ve grown stronger, Azadine.”

“Aldis…”

Biting his lip, Azadine looked at Aldis standing in his way.

Before she earned the name Arael, she had been called “the Successor of Harkonia.” To be compared with Harkonia meant the strongest existence among the Messenger Clan.

And that strongest existence now stood as his enemy, barring his path.

“To stop you, I’ll have to cut at least an arm or a leg.”

“That would work on me, as well.”

“…”

Suddenly, Azadine’s head cleared.

Right. He just had to subdue Aldis. Even if he severed a limb, as long as he left her life intact, it would be better than killing her.

But could he truly subdue the clan’s mightiest agent so easily?

Just then, Hathir tossed his Shadowsteel sword to Aldis.

“Use this!”

Aldis didn’t catch it. She waved her hand, and the sword floated on its own, dancing in the air as it circled her.

“Then—!”

The Shadowsteel blade shot for Azadine’s knee. Fast, but straightforward. Of course Aldis’s attack was never that simple.

Indeed, as she sent the blade, she also tossed her spear overhead, drew her bow, and fired at Azadine.

—Yellow Crane!—

Arrows poured from her quiver, shedding blue magical light as they circled in the air—like a pack of jackals hunting their prey.

If Azadine showed an opening while catching the Shadowsteel sword, those arrows would pour down and maul him.

But Azadine sent Grimslone’s Club to meet the blade and, without opening a gap, spoiled Aldis’s attack—then kicked up the bottom of his own quiver.

Arrows sprang up; Azadine caught them and shot them. Aldis’s Yellow Crane arrows burst in the air.

He loosed each shot with crushing power, knocking her magic arrows out of the sky.

As the circling arrows volleyed toward Azadine in unison, Aldis charged.

—Shhiiiik!—

Her spear split the air, turning into countless shadows of light that thrust forth.

Seven lightning thrusts in succession—and the longest, deadliest line was invisible to the eye.

It was a technique that hid a shadow-thrust amid dazzling feints—“Shadow Cast on Cherry Blossoms.”

Yet Azadine received it on the Azure Executioner and slid it aside.

He already knew her trump card.

He couldn’t shut it down completely—scratches opened across his body—but the sliding spear closed their distance. Aldis had entered the range of Azadine’s offense.

“Hup!”

Now it was Azadine’s turn. Gripping the Azure Executioner like a tonfa, he surged in.

He was larger than Aldis, but his entry was razor-swift.

Diving low, he began his cut at his own eye level and dropped it toward Aldis’s ankles.

Allowing for her backward retreat, he closed a spear-and-a-half of distance in an instant.

With such mobility he could have traded lines even against a spearmaiden, but Azadine deliberately brushed dangerously close to her attacks, drawing her in.

Then his assault unfolded.

A vertical Azure Steel cleave that looked ready to split Aldis in two—blocked by Shadowsteel. The floating blade she controlled danced in to catch the blow.

And the spear in her hands multiplied—two, then three—whirling in the air to catch and wheel the Shadowsteel sword itself.

Blade and spear intertwined and moved in a knot of steel, absorbing Azadine’s strikes.

Not only that, Aldis drew a curved saber from her hip and raked it down the shaft of her spear.

The saber danced on its own, hooking into the spear like a flail head and spinning. The long spear became a two-headed flail—Shadowsteel blade and saber—whirling in a wild arc.

Aldis swung it like a true flail and attacked. Even when Azadine slipped the spearpoint, the dancing blades at its end sought him.

As expected—overwhelming. Stronger than anyone he’d faced… Aldis indeed.

And above all, even now, some part of Azadine wanted to throw himself onto that spear.

If he died on that spear, would Aldis grieve? Would she remember him forever?

It was a foolish thought, but his heart hurt so much that it came unbidden.

Yet the body clung to life. Reflex carried him on as he fought to protect himself.

His forearm knocked aside the swooping saber and Shadowsteel blade; his knee swept the incoming spear aside and pinned it low. Rolling along the pliant shaft, he closed on Aldis again in a blink.

“Splendid.”

Aldis admired him.

Already back in close, Azadine swung the Azure Executioner once more.

But—

Huh?

Something about Aldis’s movement felt off.

She’s… not trying to evade?

For the briefest moment, she looked frankly proud that he had broken through her offense. Perhaps she was caught by the fact that the boy once weaker than anyone in the clan had grown enough to pierce her assault.

Even in a fight where lives were at stake, that warmth stung Azadine’s heart.

That instant’s wavering proved fatal to both.

As he swung, Azadine switched his grip on the halberd to a tonfa hold.

It was excellent for receiving and bleeding off heavy blows. If you extend a long haft to take the enemy’s swing, all the load hammers your wrist; the tonfa grip spreads it through the whole arm.

But it was short. Azadine had insisted on the tonfa hold, masking the short reach with explosive entries—only to switch grips at the critical instant.

He did it so quickly and deftly it looked as if the weapon itself lengthened in his hands.

He caught the cut-off halberd shaft; now it was as long as a short battle-axe.

But Aldis recovered and countered. The Shadowsteel sword knifed for Azadine’s neck.

—THUD!—

—CHARRRRIP!—

Chainmail tore, and shattered flagstones vomited broken rings.

At the same time, Azadine’s Azure Executioner struck Aldis’s arm.

Strictly speaking, she had met the neck-cleaving blow with a dagger—but the dagger sheared clean through, and the axe bit into her arm.

The Azure Executioner carved on, dealing a ghastly wound. Her arm severed and flew.

But the Shadowsteel blade Aldis launched for Azadine’s nape also flew true; he curled his left arm up to shield his throat.

Armor ripped and bone cracked. Not the wax-packed forearm Scott had fitted him with—the blade punched through the shoulder above the elbow.

Aldis and Azadine had taken each other’s arms.

“…Splendid, Azadine.”

“Aldis…”

Even so, Azadine did not lower his guard.

Aldis carried royal blood. She was the one who had seized the throne of Coral Sahar, and from what he had seen, that throne remained untainted—a potent source of white mana still.

The King’s Healing. Aldis could likely invoke it.

However—

Her knees buckled. Too much blood poured from the wound.

Unlike Azadine, who had only taken a thrust, Aldis had been struck by the Azure Executioner.

The axe generated a lateral separating force along its edge; it had hewn her arm away cleanly. From her left arm—close to the heart—blood gushed in torrents.

By contrast, Azadine’s wound was a stab. His arm eventually tore free, but unlike Aldis he could clamp his armpit and slow the bleeding.

Beyond all that—

Aldis did not seem particularly willing to live.

As with Kazas, when her conviction and the clan’s long desire clashed, her will to live had dimmed.

She had been fair and compassionate enough to embrace Azadine—eyeless and monstrous—without a qualm. It had been wrong from the start for such a woman to follow the clan’s wish to massacre the Hubris folk.

“What are you doing? Use the King’s Healing! Aldis! Your life isn’t yours alone! The clan’s desire! The dream handed down by our ancestors—will you betray it? You can do it! If you’re my daughter, restore yourself and slay the traitor!”

Hathir raged and urged her on. Aldis started as if waking.

“I’m sorry, Azadine. I—”

Golden light sparked from her—a sign she had begun the King’s Healing.

But when that miracle flared, its target was not Aldis—it was Azadine.

“I’m sorry, Father. I… choose Azadine…”

Aldis’s head sagged and dropped to the floor.

“Aldis!”

Seeing Aldis heal him, Azadine started up in panic—but with so much blood lost, his body failed him; he pitched forward, face slamming into the floor.

“A… gh…”

A voiceless scream boiled in his throat like phlegm.

Aldis was dead.

Kazas—and Aldis as well…

And Aldis, even, he had killed with his own hands.

‘She was my star, my light—my everything!’

‘What were these Hubris folk to me, that I had to kill Aldis with my own hands?!’

‘Was the ideal worth protecting to that extent? Truly?’

Azadine crawled toward the fallen Aldis.

Wounds struck by Shadowsteel rarely closed cleanly even under miracle—ragged flesh hung. As he dragged himself, his arm split and spattered blood, but he felt no pain.

His heart was already torn to shreds; his body’s pain did not register.

“Foolish boy. And… a foolish daughter.”

Hathir rose from the throne. His wounds were much recovered; when he lifted his hand, the Shadowsteel sword on the floor shuddered and flew into his grasp.

—Rrrrumble!—

Another quake shook the hall, and black smoke spewed from the corrupted Quartz Throne.