He stayed as still as a mouse.
Hadn’t he summoned Kkingkking as a last resort?
He had activated Reaper Summoning not to call forth baby Kkingkking, but to moderately intimidate the enemy with adult Kkingkking’s presence and to bolster Teordo with the deathly energy filling the area.
He could no longer use Thunder Emperor or Blue Flame, but he had little mana left anyway, so it truly was his last resort.
But what in the world was this…?
—So you mean to continue to the bitter end. Hio Pavlenko.
Gloomily.
Ataolf’s voice, laden with power, echoed from afar.
Even as he heard those words, Hio merely stood still.
His hat set straight, his staff in hand.
‘But I was standing still…’
So if he would just clearly explain what exactly he meant by “continue,” Hio could actively reflect that opinion and behave even more quietly, couldn’t he?
“Pay it no mind, mage. I trust you.”
The Sword Saint glanced back as he spoke, and Hio gave him a faint smile and a nod, as if to say not to worry.
Surely he hadn’t seen the corners of Hio’s mouth trembling.
‘I won’t pay it any mind, so can’t you just fight on your own?’
He was behaving himself perfectly well, yet those two were going back and forth making a damned spectacle of it.
Of course, he desperately wanted to do something, but there was nothing he could do.
All his skills had been sealed, and all he could rely on were the Death Knight Teordo and the Sword Saint Vitalianus, who had appeared like a savior.
All Hio could do was use Kkingkking to keep feeding Teordo deathly energy, and yet…
‘Kkingkking is great in large-scale battles, but in a fight like this, he’s not very useful.’
In other words, he was ornamental.
Had Kkingkking read Hio’s thoughts?
His gaze turned toward Hio.
His red eyes grew round, and his face swiftly crumpled as if he were about to cry.
Grievance overflowed from his eyes.
A ghost who, in name, governed death, reduced to an ornament.
He was hurt.
‘Ahem. You’re supposed to glare.’
But true to Kkingkking, who would do anything for Hio’s words, he once again widened his eyes fiercely and stared forward.
Ghostly energy flickered around his body, and the aura of death rippled.
That form was undoubtedly that of a Reaper one feared might appear in their dreams. The presence of a ghost beyond common sense.
…Which was precisely why Hio still couldn’t shake the thought that he was ornamental.
—In the end, you choose the worst possible path. Hio Pavlenko.
As if he had made his decision, Ataolf let his dense killing intent pour out without restraint.
What he needed was overwhelming power. Indiscriminate destruction.
Omnipotent destructive force that could shatter anything, regardless of what it aimed at or what power might be hidden within.
It was an explosion of power he had built up over decades, and even for him, it required shouldering a considerable burden, so it would leave its mark.
However, it was not as though he had any other method.
After all, driving both Vitalianus and Hio Pavlenko into a corner at the same time and escaping this crisis was no easy task.
“The worst choices are everything you have chosen until now, Ataolf.”
Facing him, Vitalianus also raised his aura with all his strength.
Two enormous forces, each imbued wholly with will.
A black fog blanketing the sky and waves of golden aura surging up from the ground.
If those two forces collided in full, there was no one who could predict what outcome would unfold.
And in that hair-trigger situation.
The one who moved first was, unexpectedly, Hio Pavlenko.
* * *
—From the look of it, he seems frightened of that Reaper.
It was Purnel’s conjecture, and Hio happened to think the same.
Hio’s final card.
A Reaper that only looked impressive on the outside.
—If those two monsters collide, nothing will be left.
He was right.
This was inside the academy, and not only the main buildings, but survivors as well, were surely still here.
What would happen if those things clashed in such a situation?
Therefore.
“Kkingkking.”
He had to move first.
“Let’s put in some work.”
Ataolf was clearly conscious of Kkingkking.
Even if he pretended otherwise, the moment Kkingkking appeared, he had easily pierced through his fog and set a scythe against his neck, so how could he not be?
From the perspective of someone who did not know that was an adult Kkingkking-style entrance performance and greeting, it was enough to fill them with terror.
Even the strongest person on the continent, so long as his foundation was human, could not help but feel fear toward the unknown.
“Scare him as much as you can, and draw out his mana too.”
Kkingkking gave a short nod and shot forward in an instant.
He was, to begin with, a ghost that should not exist in this place.
Ignoring most laws, the Reaper arrived before Ataolf in the blink of an eye.
At the sight of him abruptly appearing and raising his scythe high, Ataolf responded instinctively.
All the fog surged toward the Reaper.
But there was no way that would work.
No matter how strong he was, if he could be seized by the hand of a mere mortal, how could he be a ghost who governed death?
Thus, all the fog passed straight through the Reaper, and the Reaper’s scythe was swung unfailingly toward Ataolf.
The black fog heaved violently and swirled as if in a desperate struggle, but that did not mean it could block the scythe of a Reaper who existed, yet did not exist.
—……!
The scythe passed far too easily across Ataolf’s neck.
Greatly flustered, Ataolf hurriedly groped at his own neck.
For some reason, strength drained from him.
「You have received +70 mana from the Reaper」
And there was no way the Sword Saint Vitalianus would miss such a large opening.
Rumble—
With a sound like thunder, a golden flash shot forth.
—Vitalianus…!
Ataolf belatedly moved the fog, but there was not enough time for its power to concentrate.
The power he had amassed had already been poured toward the Reaper who had suddenly approached him.
The dazzling golden light advanced, shattering every bit of the black fog.
“Ataolf.”
The curtain of fog protecting Ataolf at his side activated once more.
The absolute barrier that had blocked every attack until now collided with Vitalianus’s golden aura.
And in that fleeting instant, their gazes met.
Dark, gloomy black eyes.
Bright, radiant golden eyes.
The eyes of a villain who had created countless deaths.
The eyes of a hero who had created countless deaths.
Two pairs of eyes that had once looked toward the same place.
Two eyes, utterly different yet not so different, gazed intently at each other.
An eternity-like instant passed.
“Ataolf. My hateful friend.”
Crack— The black curtain that had never broken, not even under hundreds of bolts of lightning or blue flames, began to crack.
“How did we end up like this?”
With those words as the end.
Kwaaaang—!
The curtain of black fog shattered into pieces.
A golden radiance that pierced straight through the darkness soared high into the sky, then slowly vanished.
At that.
“……”
The black fog, too, slowly began to clear.
* * *
“That was a splendid plan, mage.”
When Hio jumped down from the rooftop using Feather Fall, Vitalianus, who had already come down first, extended his hand.
As Hio took that hand, the Sword Saint asked with a faint smile.
“What exactly was that ghost? It was… a peculiar energy, unlike anything I have ever felt in my life.”
“Well, you’re asking the obvious.”
At that answer, Vitalianus finally let out a wry chuckle.
“I see. Magic, then.”
It was the answer that always returned whenever one asked that mage. And it was also the only explanation available.
After all, he called himself the last mage remaining in the world.
Between the two of them, a pitch-black knight strode closer.
The imperial princess’s escort knight and a knight of death, Teordo.
Teordo approached the two, gave Vitalianus a brief bow, and stared down at Hio.
Reading the insolent expression on his face, Hio patted him as if to placate him and said,
“I know. Sorry for summoning you so suddenly. Well, for all that, you fought just fine. You know, when you think about it, you probably have quite a lot of work-related stress built up too… All right. I get it. I said I get it. But if you go alone, you’ll stand out too much, so let’s go together later.”
Teordo looked at Hio sullenly once, bowed his head to the Sword Saint again, and vanished into a wisp of smoke.
He had reverse-summoned himself.
He was worried about Sylvia, but he could not return alone.
Inside the imperial palace might be one thing, but if he wandered around in that ominous, deathly form, unpleasant rumors would certainly spread.
“In any case, setting that aside…”
Hio glanced at Vitalianus’s sword.
A considerable amount of blood stained the blade.
At that gaze, the Sword Saint looked down at his own sword.
“I barely missed him. It seems he opened a passage in that brief gap. Still, he suffered a serious wound, so for quite some time…”
“Or was it that you couldn’t bring yourself to kill him?”
“……”
The Sword Saint’s words caught in his throat.
“…I…”
“It’s fine. I understand.”
At those words, Vitalianus shifted his gaze from the sword and looked at Hio.
Hio looked at Vitalianus and spoke solemnly.
“I’ll take responsibility and finish Ataolf myself. So the Empire’s great star should rest for a while.”
Ataolf’s attack on Imenia had targeted Hio, so he could not say he bore no responsibility.
Even if it was not his fault, his heart could not help but feel heavy.
Therefore, he would certainly finish Ataolf with his own hands.
“Mage. When I look at you… it feels as though you know everything.”
“Well…”
“I see. Magic, then.”
“Of course. Magic.”
They looked at each other and grinned, and then Hio brought up the main point.
“But did you know in advance about Black Fang’s attack? You came faster than expected, even bringing the Royal Knights.”
It had been a sudden attack carried out overnight.
Yet the Sword Saint and even the Royal Knights had arrived, which meant they must have known beforehand, did it not?
But the Sword Saint shook his head.
“It was a coincidence. My original mission was to bring you in.”
“Me…? Why?”
“Have you forgotten your position?”
The Sword Saint extended his index finger and pointed to the left side of his chest.
“Are you not the Empire’s Guardian Knight? And His Majesty the Emperor’s coronation ceremony is soon to be held.”
“…Don’t tell me I have to attend?”
“Naturally.”
Ignoring the displeased look on Hio’s face, Vitalianus turned his head.
Countless people could be seen approaching this place.
A great many people were returning, led by the Royal Knights.
They knew the battle was over and were coming back.
Vitalianus looked at them and slowly opened his mouth.
“I am old. I am already a plant that once defined an era and is now withering away.”
Hio parted his lips as if to say something, but in the end, he simply closed his mouth. Vitalianus’s expression was deeply serious.
“I have felt and experienced many things. It was passion, and it was conviction. Like a certain knight who protects his lord even in death, I, too, had such days.”
But time flowed cruelly on.
No matter how nobly a rock might rise, it was bound to be worn away by the storms of time.
For growing dull was the law and providence of nature.
“Is this not a new era?”
A young emperor. A new regime.
“It will need new hope.”
New hope that could securely follow after the Empire’s sole star eventually set one day.
The symbol of that.
Vitalianus looked at the approaching people, and beyond them.
“Dawn is breaking, is it not?”
Before they knew it, the night had passed, and the sun was beginning to show faintly.
The night of nightmares had finally gone by.
“Morning is not always a good thing. One must prepare. For the things that could be willfully ignored because it was night, because it was dark.”
Dawn broke, and morning brightened.
At the same time as they prepared for a new beginning, they had to resolve what had been put off.
For once the sun rose and the day brightened, some things became clearer.
For instance, the bloodstains scattered all across the ground.
Or the traces of young sprouts that had faded before they could fully bloom.
Or the cruelly trampled corpses.
“So you, too, must prepare.”
Vitalianus sheathed his original sword and drew a new one.
A treasured blade even more splendid than the one before.
It was the sword of one who executed imperial commands.
The Sword of Glory flashed as it caught the sunlight just beginning to rise.
Vitalianus, the Empire’s Sword Saint, who had been a symbol of military might and of hope, raised his voice.
“All of you, kneel! Bow your heads!”
The Sword Saint’s dignified voice rode the chill air of dawn and spread far into the distance.
Between the still-silent buildings.
Past the cruel bloodstains painted on their walls, past the floors hidden in shadow.
Past the cold corpses laid there.
It spread widely, reaching even those walking from afar with the sun at their backs.
At that voice. At the blade of the treasured sword flashing in the new sunlight.
All the approaching Royal Knights knelt.
They bowed their heads.
Everyone following behind them, bewildered, slowly knelt as well.
“The Empire’s great shield and its sharpest sword!”
Vitalianus had thought it.
“The noble Guardian Knight of His Great Majesty the Emperor!”
He had foreseen it.
“Hio Pavlenko!”
That the Empire needed a new sword.
Not an old blade dulled as much as it could be, but a newly sharpened sword. A new hope.
It needed such a symbol of hope.
He believed that the mage Hio Pavlenko would become that steadfast symbol.
“Receive the imperial command.”
Even if he himself were to fall in vain.