4
The white light pressed forward, threatening to blot out the aurora.
Even after pouring out everything he had and borrowing the strength of the six spirits, Julius was still being overwhelmed.
He had used his greatest trump card while his opponent had simply swung a sword seriously for the first time in this battle. He was astonished at the absurdity of the situation. At the same time, there was an emotion welling inside his breast that agreed this was how it was meant to be.
A sword stroke that could split the world. The ultimate technique of a Sword Saint to rival Reinhard’s.
In the middle of a life-or-death struggle, Julius had an idle thought.
If Reid and Reinhard fought, who would come out on top?
Legend versus legend, Sword Saint against Sword Saint. In a battle that could never happen, who would claim victory?
Unfortunately, he would never get the chance to find out.
“In which case, I will have to find out myself with my own body.”
The only people who would ever have the chance to cross blades with both Reinhard van Astrea and Reid Astrea were those who had reached this tower. And the only ones to actually do so were Julius and Emilia, who had gone to the upper floor. Julius had no intention of yielding that role to anyone else.
All that remained was to win.
He had to break through the white light and defeat Reid Astrea with his rainbow.
For the sake of that, he poured his whole spirit into his sword and took one step forward…
If even the tiniest bit of his pride and strength as the Finest of Knights could be infused into the tip of his blade…
“Julius.”
It was a voice that should not have been able to reach him. And yet it surely did.
Or perhaps it echoed not in his ears but somewhere deeper, in the depths of his soul.
If he had determined to live without breaking from the shell of a knight, then he had no choice but to answer it…
“—Go, my knight!”
Those words gave him the final push his blade needed.
“Ire! Qua! Aro! Ake! Ine! Ness!”
He called out to the spirits who had each become a part of the aurora. The enemy stood before them, just beyond the white light. They had to reach him.
The tip of his sword had to break through…
“Ooooooooooooooh!!!”
With unusual fervor, he let out a bloody roar.
Prepared for death, he chose not to prioritize poise, but he reassured himself that this was not the same as abandoning his core tenets wholesale. Julius advanced with absolute confidence in his guiding principles.
“ ”
Reid’s slash cut through space, severing sound and color alike.
Whether it was the sword of selection or a chopstick, it became a manifestation of the very concept of a sword as long as he was holding it.
A sword was an object that was meant to cut things.
Swordsmanship was the technique of cutting things with a sword.
That meant a slash that could cut through everything in this world was both the greatest achievement and the ultimate desire of the sword and swordsmanship itself.
Anything cut by this all-powerful slash would never be able to forget that fact for all of eternity.
That was why the scar beneath Julius Juukulius’s left eye would never fade.
It was the price of challenging the Sword Saint’s sword head-on.
“ ”
The pressure of the white light increased, and the unwavering gleam of the rainbow aurora only grew in intensity.
Two powerful lights crashed violently against each other…
“…Ah.”
That struggle seemed like it might never end, until it suddenly reached an unexpected conclusion.
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