“Poison Smashfist!”
Ultima had punched through Damrada’s chest.
Her hand was infused with an enormous amount of magic force as she executed an open-hand spear strike, much as Damrada had. But with the ultimate skill Samael added to the mix, she was able to control it perfectly, the Deathly Poison from Samael turning her five fingernails a dark purple. It was well beyond a lethal dose, and it crushed Damrada’s defenses.
“Gnnh!”
Damrada fell, vomiting blood.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Too bad, huh? I was right on target!”
The evil laughter echoed. Damrada tried getting up again but failed. His entire body was so drained of energy that he could barely close a fist, much less stand up. But still he gathered his strength and stared at Ultima.
“That is no Smashfist, you fool. It was a spear-hand strike. As if you could copy me after just one look… But the power behind it…was excellent. Call it…‘Bloody Deathhand’ instead, perhaps…”
Damrada gazed upward, a satisfied look on his face as he beheld the sky and remorsefully chuckled to himself. He was completely defeated. Long before he could challenge Guy to a final battle, the demon lord Rimuru’s forces had crushed him. Perhaps some of the Empire’s elites would survive, but it would be impossible to rebuild their position. Emperor Ludora has no time left to wait for the next opportunity. Before that, he needs to…
“Your Majesty,” Damrada muttered, looking back on his life.
………
……
…
“Will you listen to me, Damrada?”
“What is it? If it’s more boring complaining, please save it for Lady Velgrynd. Or are you complaining at her, actually? Then bring it to her, not me. I don’t want her to think I have a grievance with her, too.”
“You really are a cold person, aren’t you? …But no, this is serious.”
“…What is it?”
He didn’t want to know. He knew from the moment he looked into Ludora’s eyes that this was a serious matter—but if he heard about it, their current relationship would cease to exist, and Damrada didn’t want that.
“So it appears that every time I reincarnate, it wears my heart out a little bit. That or the ‘soul,’ the way Guy describes it—but either way, if this goes on long enough, I may wind up not being me any longer.”
The resurrections of the Hero Ludora were not magical in nature. They involved a special ritual, crafted to help the new body inherit the old one’s overblown magic force. This was the cost for becoming both a god among mankind and the owner of a force that even surpassed that of a True Dragon, the ultimate spiritual life-form. It was up to Ludora and his own skills to manage that process; Damrada had no solution for him.
“The wearing of the soul, you say? And it would cause Your Majesty to cease being yourself…?”
“Right.”
“That’s a funny joke. But I’m not so naïve as to take it seriously and reduce your workload, you know.”
“Eesh. Still all serious like that, huh?”
“I think that’s what I’m best at, yes.”
“Ha-ha! Maybe so, yeah. Well, forget about it. Stupid to ask anyway.”
“I will do just that, then.”
There was no forgetting. Damrada was just running away from it. He wanted to serve Ludora forever, maintaining the current relationship they had.
So time passed.
“Ah, I knew it… Every time I’m reborn, it seems, I lose something important to me, little by little. The problem is, I don’t even know what.”
“Your Majesty…”
“Hey, Damrada?”
“Yes?”
“This is an order. When I am no longer myself, I want you to kill me by your own hand.”
“Emperor Ludora!”
“I can’t really ask Velgrynd to do it, can I?”
Damrada struggled mightily to keep himself from saying he couldn’t do it, either. This was the heartfelt wish of his best friend Ludora; there was no way he could deny him.
“That is a terribly weak-minded thing for you to say, my liege. But should that happen, I promise you that I will settle your affairs for you. So please, I hope you can rest assured as you go about your political duties.”
“Hee-hee. You never change, do you? Then it’s settled.”
It was a promise made on a distant day.
And time marched on again…
“I am tired. I can only keep Michael, Lord of Justice, from going out of control for so long. Absolute justice is no better than evil, when you get down to it, for there’s no such thing as a justice that can be accepted by all.”
“Your Majesty…”
“Damrada, do you remember your promise with me?”
“Of course I do, my liege.”
Ludora smiled. “Good, then.” He changed his expression, giving a stern order. “Damrada, I hereby order you… You must find someone who can overcome Michael, Lord of Justice, and defeat me, should you yourself fail at it! It pains me to ask you to do this…but while I am still myself, I need to take all possible precautions.”
The order was tantamount to Ludora asking Damrada to wipe him from existence. But Damrada had no choice but to nod.
“You have my word, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” Ludora replied. “And my apologies.” His eyes pointed far away, his speech pointed toward no particular target. “This Michael was entrusted to me by a friend, but looking back, it might have been too much power for me. Whether I win or lose my game against Guy, I think next time will be the last occasion I ever use it. I intend to use it well…but if you see any signs of it going out of control, please do not hesitate. Stop it, and stop me as well.”
“Yes, my liege.”
“…Please.”
Ludora closed his eyes, recalling the oath he had given to Veldanava the Star-King Dragon long ago and feeling frustrated at his inability to keep it. A small murmur escaped from his mouth: “If you fail at this promise…I will apologize to you in the afterlife.”
Damrada, pretending not to hear it, quietly left the room.
………
……
…
Choking on the blood seeping out from his own mouth, Damrada was brought back to reality. He seemed to have lost consciousness for a few tenths of a second.
Your Majesty, I… I owe you an apology… You gave me your orders…and I failed to fulfill them…
In his inner consciousness, already threatening to fade again, Damrada attempted to state an apology. But it was not to be. All he did was cough up blood again.
There was regret. But there was also relief. To Damrada, the edict to seek out someone to kill his beloved master was nothing but pain. It had made him suffer for far too long. And of course it would, because to Damrada, Emperor Ludora was every bit the brilliant hero he had always been.
How could I ever kill the one…who I value so much…?! Why did it have to be me? Couldn’t it have been someone else?! Without you, I would have no lingering regrets about this world. I would gladly join you on your journey to the afterlife…
That was what Damrada truly felt. The game between Ludora and Guy was of no importance to him. What mattered was Ludora’s will, and the way that will was reflected by the world.
Guy Crimson was an arrogant demon lord, but he was no tyrant who refused to listen to reason. His rule was absolute, but he still worked on a proper framework of rules that he stuck to. He and Ludora had different ideals, but they weren’t incompatible with each other. From Damrada’s point of view, they could have come to a mutually acceptable agreement. Guy would never move on his own. Ludora was sure of it; that must’ve been why he issued his orders to Damrada.
But if they understood each other that well, why did they even bother keeping up with this game? It made Damrada wonder—but there was no way he could disobey Ludora, so in the end, he carried the order out. The journey would bring him all around the world—but after leaving the emperor’s side for many years, he found the right candidate.
This was Yuuki Kagurazaka, a boy who had the extremely unusual ability Anti-Skill. Even ultimate skills could be nullified by this, Damrada was overjoyed to find. He was glad to find something that could work against Michael, Lord of Justice…but the results were disastrous. Yuuki was now square in Ludora’s hands and could no longer be relied upon.
So Damrada lost his ace in the hole, but now another question arose.
“…Why did His Majesty try to rule over Yuuki?”
“Huh?”
Ultima reacted to the unintended murmuring. Damrada didn’t answer it. Ludora himself ordered Damrada to find someone who could kill him. Why would he then interfere with that effort?
…Or maybe Damrada just didn’t want to admit it. The signs were there from the beginning.
“…So it really was true… His Majesty, Emperor Ludora… He’s already…”
Damrada kept muttering as if suffering from a high fever.
“What’re you talking about?”
Ultima was sounding clearly irritated, but her voice would never reach him. He was far too absorbed in his own thoughts—a pre-death moment of clarity. His mind was sharper than ever…and now it could arrive at the truth.
Ludora burned with his ideals—his drive to unite the world and establish a lasting peace. He dreamed of an end to conflict and poverty, and the rise of a more developed mankind. Only when the entire world was united and at peace could everyone live as true equals.
Believing this, Ludora set out to establish a united nation. He believed humans have the innate ability to understand each other—and from the bottom of his heart, he knew they could all unite under one will to create a better world. So he became a Hero serving all mankind, facing great hardship as he did. He never stopped pursuing his struggle, hoping it would bring smiles to the faces of as many people as possible.
And Damrada loved him for it. But even now, Ludora’s ideals had ended while they were still a dream. He himself had changed too much before the day that dream came true.
The ideals we pursued were crushed long ago…
Damrada finally had to admit it. It wrapped his mind in sadness.
“Are you crying?”
“…Yes.”
“Because you’re afraid to die?”
“…No. My promise…”
“Your promise?”
“…Yes.”
Inescapable death had Damrada in its hands, refusing to let go. He could accept that much as inevitable—yet the one thing he couldn’t stand was not being able to keep his promise to Ludora. But if Ludora’s original will was long gone, then who really was Ludora now? There was just one answer. It was the ultimate skill Michael, Lord of Justice, unchanged from when Veldanava the Star-King Dragon gave it to him.
Damrada needed to carry out Ludora’s orders before his spirit fully collapsed…but his life was running out before that could ever happen. He wanted to curse his own incompetence, but even now, he decided the situation was not at its worst. He had to stop Michael at all costs, and if he failed, he needed to find someone to entrust the task to. That was Ludora’s order to him, the promise he had to keep—and he had found Yuuki for that.
But there was one other candidate he had in mind. Rimuru, the fearsome demon lord, his greatest enemy and also his greatest hope.
“I want you…to kill His Majesty… Kill Ludora for me…”
“Huh? Why me?”
“It doesn’t have to be you. Can you at least…relay the message…to the demon lord Rimuru for me…?”
“Aw, c’mon, let me do the honors! ’Cause I’m sure open to taking the job. I was planning to kill that Ludora guy anyway.”
Ultima was always up for satisfying a new whim. She wasn’t going to take this job for free, but she did have a liking for Damrada. They had fought for only a short time, but for someone with an infinite lifespan like Ultima, battle was about quality over quantity anyway. This was an intense battle, packed with ups and downs from start to finish, and after that experience, she was willing to forgive just about everything.
“Then let me ask you…one more favor…”
“What?”
“Protect him… Protect the boy Masayuki…”
Damrada was fully convinced. Masayuki was the one—
“Well, sure, I guess. But you got a reward for me, right?”
Demons never worked for free. That wasn’t an absolute rule; there were plenty of loopholes, but Ultima was feeling selfish. She wanted to annoy Damrada a little, so that’s the approach she took. But the question still relieved Damrada. He felt a new peace, like his heart had been freed.
“Your reward…is all of me. I entrust you with my soul…and all of my skills, etched deep into my body…”
“Mmm, that’ll work, I guess.”
Ultima reluctantly agreed, making Damrada break out in a smile. And then:
“Your Majesty… I will come to you now…”
Those were Damrada’s last words. He breathed his last and died, as if falling asleep. So the curtain finally came down on the long life of Damrada, Lord of the Fist, former prime minister of the Kingdom of Nasca, and close personal friend of its United Emperor, Ludora Nam-ul-Nasca.
Now Ultima stood alone in the battle arena of an alternate dimension.
“Well, that’s no fun. His heart core disappeared on me. I was gonna offer it to Sir Rimuru, too…”
Despite that saddened muttering, Ultima still gently wrapped Damrada’s body in her twelve wings. As they agreed upon, she took all of him as her own—and that was the end of the battle between the two.
One Lord of the Fist ended his life, and a new Demon of the Fist was born.
Damrada, at the very end of his life, had given one of the worst demons in history one of the most dreadful powers known to mankind. If he knew about this, would it have filled him with shame? Or would he be happy to learn that his craft would be used by a third generation? Now that Damrada was gone, there was no way to know. It would be up to the survivors to carefully weigh the fallout.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be dealing with you, then.”
Agera made the announcement to Kondo, standing in the center of the arena.
Kondo’s eyebrows twitched as he silently placed a hand on his sword. He didn’t answer Agera, but instead glanced over at Carrera.
“Don’t worry. I’ll serve as an observer.”
“Don’t make me laugh. As if I could ever trust you.”
Kondo finally opened his mouth, and his words were scathing. If they were both his enemy anyway, he was saying, they might as well both tackle him at the same time. But Carrera was unaffected.
“No, maybe not, I suppose. I don’t see two-on-one as a coward move, and nobody’s gonna go easy on you here. This time, though, it’s what Agera wished for. So please, don’t worry about me. Enjoy yourselves!”
Having had her say, she sat down atop the stone wall around the arena, like this was no longer any of her business.
Kondo shrugged. “What a farce… But I respect your spirit, at least.” Then he drew his military sword and faced up to Agera.
“My thanks. Now, let’s get down to—”
Agera was interrupted by a hollow bang. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest.
“You!”
Carrera, closing the distance in an instant, flew in between the pair. Kondo’s sword, which was even now about to descend upon Agera’s head, was stopped by her blade.
“Hmm. You were fast enough at this speed?”
Kondo, the still-smoking Nambu semiautomatic handgun in his left hand and his military-issue sword in the right, looked straight at Carrera.
“You thought I would, wouldn’t I? If you were serious about your business, Agera would’ve been destroyed. Am I wrong?”
Kondo had never explicitly stated that he would accept a match with Agera. It was Agera’s fault for failing to confirm his intentions. Besides, he made far too feeble an effort to truly finish him off—something Carrera, who parried his blade, innately understood.
Someone as strong as Kondo would never have lost in a head-on battle against Agera. If it were fought with swords alone, maybe they could’ve had a lively, pitched battle—but even so, Kondo’s victory was unassailable. But Kondo opted for a surprise attack instead, because he knew Carrera was waiting in the wings. It would be ridiculous to ever trust the words of a demon—and even more foolish to heed the words of a demon. That was the ironclad rule of warfare—eliminate all the uncertainties you can.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have all day, you know. I don’t have to put up with your farcical nonsense.”
Kondo sniffed at Carrera, as if this was all below his standards.
“Well, if you say so. But if you’re interested, I could serve as your next opponent?”
“With that sword?”
Kondo pointed at Carrera’s blade. It had been cracked by the blow, and Carrera herself knew a few more good blows would break it entirely.
“Oh, of course not. I can replace it, but I have something better than that. I think you know what I’m talking about, Agera?”
“…Of course. A pity that I could not cross swords with a practitioner from my own school…but this, too, is following my teachings. I have no reason to complain. But I cannot say I like how you disarmed me with such obvious disdain.”
Agera stood up as he spoke. The hole in his chest was already closed. Kondo had shot him with an Eraser Bullet, which absorbs and eliminates the target’s energy equivalent to the amount of magic force imbued in it. If it had been a Necrosis Bullet, Agera would have great difficulty standing up right now. As Carrera correctly guessed, and as Agera realized now, Kondo clearly didn’t give him his best effort.
But it meant Agera could still fight.
“…Blade Transform.”
He transformed into a sword—and needless to say, it was Carrera who took it up. Her magic force filled Agera, refilling his lost energy. The blade shone, indicating that Agera’s spiritual force was back to full.
“A foolish move. I only let you off the hook because you lived by the sword, much as myself…”
“My kind love to fight, all right? The exact method is none of your business.”
“I see. Well, it’s not important now. That person committed the unforgivable sin of deceiving our school’s founder…and I will do everything in my power to make you pay.”
To Kondo, Carrera was just as guilty for holding Agera in her hands. The hostility was clear in his voice as he took his stance.
About an hour into the fight, Carrera was on her knees.
Kondo was strong, unbelievably so: truly a master. To Carrera, he was a monster beyond imagination. And she knew she was good—but she now understood that there was always someone better out there.
She might not have been able to defeat Diablo, but she knew that she’d never lose to anyone else. But Zegion had little trouble dispatching her, and during this war, she put up a pathetic performance against Velgrynd. So she wasn’t surprised that Kondo was making quick work of her. In fact, she was thrilled by it.
Carrera rolled on the ground, putting some distance between herself and Kondo. Then she stood up, her sword pointed straight ahead.
“Not bad! Agera praised my sword skills a lot, but I sure can’t hold a candle to you.”
“Silence. That gets on my nerves, considering you’ve been fending me off by sheer force alone.”
Kondo, too, had an ominous feeling about Carrera’s fighting sense. Now was no time for pussyfooting around, so he had gone all out from the beginning—not just with his sword strikes, but with a generous amount of the ultimate skill Sandalphon, Lord of Judgment, sprinkled in. But he still couldn’t fully finish off Carrera—something he inwardly found both amazing and horrifying.
They had both recognized each other as worthy opponents by now, and from there, the battle raged even more fiercely. Carrera struck Kondo with a forceful blow, blocking his attempted slash. Kondo lightly parried the move, aiming at Carrera with the gun in his right hand. Loaded inside was a Dispel Bullet, built to disable the target’s magic, and what Carrera did next explained why Kondo felt the need to fire it.
Without a moment of spellcasting time, a gravitational force field was built around the arena. Kondo had chided Carrera as nothing but “brute strength” a moment ago, but instead of taking that to heart, she just tapped her strength even more. This invocation wouldn’t affect her at all, but it would do a great deal to slow Kondo’s movements…or so she hoped.
Anticipating this, Kondo chose to counteract it with a Dispel Bullet.
His strength lay very much in the versatility of his skills. The ultimate skill Sandalphon had four effects in all, and he could tap into one or the other depending on what the times called for. The Removal Bullet broke down its target’s defensive barriers; the Dispel Bullet blacked out magical effects; the Necrosis Bullet destroyed magic-based healing; and the Eraser Bullet was a highly precise magical strike, identifying the target’s essence and consuming its energy from the inside. All of these abilities could also be placed together in a single, all-powerful shot—the Judgment Bullet.
Up to now, Carrera was still daring enough to cast magical attacks that required spellcasting time. That was in the past now, but even so, all of her spells were being canceled out the moment the magic invoked itself. Kondo had an accurate beat on her, and he wasn’t making any mistaken choices. What’s more, he could fire any kind of bullet he wanted whenever the opportunity came up. If she couldn’t assess and deal with them, even a single one could be a painful blow to Carrera. One moment off her guard, and the duel would be over instantly.
Kondo was carefully analyzing this battle, not letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a mechanical approach, even—spot the enemy’s weak points, figure out the flow of magical power, and take suitable countermeasures. That was all there was to it. But by sticking to the fundamentals, Kondo had reached his position as strongest in the imperial armies. That made him the exact opposite of the emotionally driven Carrera, but still, they were also similar in some ways.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” Carrera said, shaking her head before asking in a friendly manner, “How do you know when I’ll cast magic?”
Kondo gathered his breath as he replied. “Heh… It’s simple. I just thought about what I would do in your situation.”
“Aha. A very simple explanation.”
Once again, Carrera found herself liking Kondo. But at the same time, she grew increasingly aware that this was an adversary like none other.
He’s reading the magic flow required to cast a spell, then cutting it off with complete precision. And that’s how he phrases it? Come on.
“What I would do” sounded like such a trite excuse. But even as she bitterly mused over that, she couldn’t hide the joy on her face. Having an opponent you could fight at full force against was sheer bliss. The demon lord Leon, for example, was a fighter whose strengths even Guy attested to. She expected a satisfying fight against him, but he refused to take the bait on her provocation. It was tremendously frustrating and disappointing, but if she had Kondo now, she could enjoy herself to her heart’s content. To her, after all, the process of the fight was far more important than the outcome.
“Well, good… Very good. Kondo was your name, right? You’re the greatest enemy I could ever want!”
Kondo just sniffed away the praise, preferring to express his opinions with his sword instead of his tongue. He slashed at Carrera—and even this lefthanded, single-hand strike was true. A truly beautiful demonstration from a master swordsman, and Carrera had to rely on both Agera’s skill and her own intuition to parry the barrage.
After a while of this, a certain habit of Kondo’s began to dawn on Carrera. His left hand held the sword; the other, his gun. That was his fighting style, but when he fired his gun, his eyes and finger muscles would involuntarily move in tandem, revealing the bullet’s trajectory. It was a tiny quirk, something only Carrera could have ever spotted, but the flaw was still fatal enough to potentially decide the fight.
Here!
With perfect timing, Carrera swung his sword away. Kondo, about to fire a gunshot, failed to immediately respond—and despite himself, he held out his gun to catch Carrera’s sword. His reaction speed was up there with the best in the world, but it wasn’t enough to stop her.
“Let’s see you pick on me now! I’ve just taken away one of your weapons!”
Thanks to the twisted, off-balance stance he took to stop Carrera, he couldn’t fully resist the demon’s powerful strike. It wound up costing him his gun. The Nambu semiautomatic clattered to the ground.
Carrera was delighted to have this bit of revenge against Kondo. But then something gave her the creeps. As soon as she felt it, Carrera followed her instincts and jumped back from the spot.
Kondo’s sword cleaved through the air.
“Tsk. Missed my chance.”
The next thing that fell to the ground was Carrera’s severed left arm. Not even her orichalc skeleton could resist the force behind Kondo’s blade.
“Youuu!!”
Carrera was enraged. But her heart remained calm enough to recognize the reality of this situation, even though she was trembling in humiliation.
Now she knew that she’d never defeat Kondo like this. And as if to prove it, Kondo was now holding his military sword with both hands. It was a complete picture of beauty; he seemed like a completely different person from before. He had no intention of relying on his gun from the beginning, and now Carrera understood that he was trying to create an opening to lure her into all along.
Once again, Kondo had been looking down on her the entire time. He was at least an even match for her with his blade alone, but instead he was putting on this show the whole time to hide it…
He was hoping to take me down easy with that, I’m sure…but even a master like him’s using dirty tricks instead of showing off his full talents? I find that hard to forgive.
It made Carrera let out a shout.
“How dare you damned human beings berate us!!”
In a fit of rage, Carrera took a step forward to tear Kondo to pieces. But at that moment:
(Lady Carrera, please wait.)
Agera, still transformed into a sword, spoke to her.
Carrera and Agera were now almost as one—connected by Thought Communication, of course, so it was possible for them to talk to each other through their minds. So, in a field of consciousness stretched a million times over by Carrera’s ability, their conversation began.
(What is it, Agera? I’m busy right now, you know. Get in my way, and I’ll kill you, too.)
(Calm down, Lady Carrera. Losing your cool is exactly what Kondo wants from you.)
(I know that. But he made me out to be a fool, you know. Me, an overlord! How could I ever forgive that?)
Agera’s chief role lately had been to stop Carrera before she got carried away. But he had never seen her this angry before. He hadn’t, but if he didn’t take measures right now, Carrera’s defeat was inevitable.
So, as earnestly as he could, he tried to persuade her.
(Listen to me. Kondo hadn’t been relying on his sword since the beginning—and not because he thought little of you, either.)
(Why is that? He’s clearly belittling me!)
(No, he is not. In fact, it is quite the opposite.)
(Huh?)
(He recognizes you as a threat, Lady Carrera, and that’s why he is trying to conceal his hand. Not everyone is born innately strong like you, do you understand me? And it is a natural thing for any warrior to consider all due measures against a strong enemy!)
(So what’re you saying? He recognizes me as a strong fighter, then?)
(Yes, exactly!)
Agera made the strongest argument he could. Kondo had fully mastered a complete style, making it his own, but he had still basically inherited Agera’s style. He was serious about his craft, no doubt, but that was why he didn’t break it out from the beginning, only choosing to do so now. The slight opening he revealed when firing his gun must have been caused by his nerve-wracking training; the only reason he went with that move now was that he decided Carrera was formidable enough to take the risk against. He never would’ve tried anything so tricky otherwise.
(…I see. You have a good point, yes.)
After careful persuasion, Carrera finally saw things Agera’s way. He breathed a sigh of relief.
(I’m sorry to worry you, Agera. I feel like my eyes have been opened.)
(I am glad to hear that.)
(Here, let me promise you that I won’t make you worry any longer. All right?)
With that declaration, Carrera turned toward Kondo again. Then, out of nowhere, she struck herself in the face with the back of her fist. It was a full-power blast, one that seemed to make her head explode—but, unperturbed, she flashed Kondo a smile.
“Oops! Did I startle you? Well, don’t worry. I wasn’t being very coolheaded about any of this. I mistakenly thought that you were looking down on me. But you humans really are amazing, aren’t you? You really will play all kinds of tricks to win. The idea never occurred to us, so it’s kind of surprising.”
She was all smiles about it, but now she realized how important it was not to underestimate your enemy. She was by no means letting her guard down, but without Agera, she would’ve been taken in by Kondo’s scheme just now. She used to allow herself to be endlessly selfish—but that past was over. She was now a loyal servant of the demon lord Rimuru, and so she acted in accordance with her orders. Defeat was one thing, but death would be unforgivable.
Carrera admonished herself. That’s what that blow was for—that, and it was a way to state her resolve. Carrera recognized Kondo as an adversary, one of the same rank as her. It was a very sober thought, quite unlike her typical, capricious self.
“Like, no way, you know? No way I would ever go all-out…against a human, you know?”
Knowing she was the strongest of all races made her conceited enough that she never really gave her all before. She thought that Kondo was going easy on her, and it required Agera’s intervention to put an end to that. It was a blunder, and now that she realized it, she finally got serious. She flashed her horrible smile, one that looked boundlessly beautiful to Kondo.
“So the demon’s treating this seriously now? A rather unwelcome turn of events for a hapless human such as I.”
For the first time in this encounter, his expression changed. He now saw Carrera as a worthy enemy.
“Very well. I, too, will take this seriously.”
With that declaration, Kondo put on his “armor” for the first time. It wasn’t a uniform manifested by the power of his will, but a spiritual outfit of pure white, a God-class piece given to him by Ludora. It was modeled after the ceremonial uniform of the old Imperial Japanese Navy, and while it didn’t make Kondo look all that different, the aura he presented seemed like something else entirely. To Kondo, this uniform was also the garment he would have been buried in; as a lieutenant, he vowed to carry the guilt of all the men he had let die. He wanted to hold that resolve close to his heart, and so he decided to fight in this.
Looking at him, Carrera released the full extent of her magical force and reintroduced herself.
“I am Carrera, Menace Lord and faithful servant of the demon lord Sir Rimuru. By my pride, I swear I will kill you.”
“I am Tatsuya Kondo, former lieutenant of the Imperial Japanese Navy and current commander of the Imperial Guardians…and I hereby accept your challenge.”
The two warriors stared each other down, quietly building up their power. Now the real battle would begin.
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