A brave man. Stronger than all, he who helps the weak and crushes the great evil. Favored of the gods.

　The old man certainly took that name. It's a name that only the baptized and titled of the Great Saints can bear.

　As I recall, the last time the Daishonin produced a hero was a few decades ago. Well, if you think about it that way, it's not surprising that your grandfather, Richard Permiris, was once given the title of hero. So they are of the same age. I can't believe it.

　After all, those who are chosen to be heroes are those who respect morality and justice. Richard Palmyris is quite the opposite. I wonder if the eyes of the former Archbishops and Popes were blind.

　Or perhaps Richard-Permillis was such a good man once upon a time. No, this is ridiculous. Even Kijishi would be laughing at this story.

　And it doesn't matter now whether Richard-Permiris is a hero or not. The only thing that matters now is the fact that no matter how hard you try, you will have to face him and cut off his head right here on the battlefield.

　The enemy soldiers repeatedly rush towards you with their spears outstretched with a momentum incomparable to what they had just done. The silver point of the spear was filled with a glaring murderous intent, and reflected the reddish hue of the sunset.

　Immediately, two or three of the heraldic soldiers around him turned to flesh. I felt my heart stop beating as they clutched their spears in their bellies.

　In the dense stench of death, I stepped out and kicked the earth, dodging the spear bedding.

　With the sacrifices of the heraldic soldiers, he leapt to the feet of Richard Permiris with both hands grasping the treasured sword. The enemy was still on horseback. No matter how hard he swung his sword, it would never reach him. But that didn't mean there was no time to pause.

　Five seconds. If we can't finish everything in five seconds, we're finished. We just die, we all die as we should. Nothing worthwhile, nothing accomplished. I can't let that happen.

　The tip of the sword follows a path I once saw.

　The blow with which Caria once cut down a soldier on horseback with the Garleist. There's no way I could possibly copy that swing in its entirety. But if you can just make it crawl along its path, if you can just put your finger on the horizon of your longing, then you can.

　In that instant of swinging the treasured sword, my fingertips moaned. The spine that runs through his entire body is clearly twisted in a distorted manner. The sight of a piece of muscle popping off flashed through my mind.

　The purple sword flickers. The trajectory of the tip of the sword was nothing compared to Kalia's refined and beautiful flash. That's probably why the swing didn't cut the horse's neck in half like it had in the past, but only ended up creaking the horse's neck and bending it in a twisted direction. I felt the sickening sensation of a large piece of flesh being gouged out of my hand.

　The sickening sound of bones breaking struck my ears. A warhorse neighed, blood spurted.

　--One second.

　The horse collapses with a scream, and I swing my blade with all my might at the spot where Richard-Permillis is supposed to be.

　My vision was covered in horse blood and I couldn't see a thing. So I swung my sword, relying only on my intuition and one certainty.

　Richard Permiris. I believe he would have thrown his horse to the wind and swung his sword at me.

　Gee, yin.

　There was the sound of iron and steel being joined tightly. The sparks flickered as flashes of light. As if to catch the sword I had raised, the black sword appeared from within my bloodied vision.

　--Two seconds.

　He wore gray armor and handled the black sword, which could be called a big sword, with ease. I'm not sure what to make of that.

　There he is, after all. My vicious master, Richard Permiris. Our swords were at each other's throats.

　There were no more words. Not even a breath. A moment of exhalation, a moment of inhalation. He knew, without needing anyone to tell him, that in that brief blink of an eye, victory or defeat, life or death, would be decided.

　He bit his back teeth as he held the sword and the black sword together. There is no time to press the blades together. The more time that passes, the more time becomes the enemy's ally. Richard Permiris must be trying to buy time.

　I twisted my wrist and unclenched my sword. There's a small space between me and Richard.

　The moment I tried to step into the gap. A burst of pain appeared in my left eye, and I fell back.

　--Three seconds.

"Gah!

　Richard Permiris' right fist was in my face. I'm on my back, my breath leaking out. My vision blurred, and I stopped thinking for a moment as the impact shook the very marrow of my brain. If I don't hold on, the strength will drain out of my body. A sharp pain ran through my body, as if my skull had been crushed.

　And there was no way my master would allow such a momentary lapse. In my blurred vision, I saw the figure of Richard Permiris, wielding a black sword.



　I see. Apparently, they have no intention of stalling for time at all. He's only thinking of cutting out your heart with the murderous intent in his eyes.

　Kill everyone and everything. What a heroic thing to do! Wonderful, just the way a heroic great man should be.

　My heart beats with joy. My mentor, Richard Palmyris, who was so far beyond my reach, is now coming to kill me with all his might! There is no greater honor than this.

　I'm sure there are countless people in this world who have said bad things about Richard Permiris. Some may have been deceived, some may have been tricked. Some may have been deceived, some may have been tricked.

　But to me, he must be an undeniable hero. He pulled me out of the mud. You gave me wisdom when I was a helpless rat. I'm sure if it weren't for you, I'd be dead in the mud instead of burning with longing.

　Yeah, so... I gripped the treasured sword tightly in both hands. A line of purple light emerges from the blade of the treasured sword. The inscription "Hero Killer" shone like an outpouring.

　--Four seconds.

　So die here. The master of my life and the great wall itself.

　Richard Permiris's black sword aimed at my left shoulder and split the sky to cut my heart in two. With the sword still facing the ground, there was no way I could intercept it. And I wasn't in the least bit interested.

　My intuition was telling me. You can't surpass your master like that. Richard Permiris is not so naive that he can be surpassed by acting like a normal person.

　If I retreat at this point, I'll never be able to reach my master again. Then there is only one thing for these limbs to do.

　As I felt the black sword tearing through the air, I raised the treasure sword, which was pointed at the ground, from the lower right to the upper left with all my strength. It was never to protect himself. It was not to protect himself, but to cut Richard Permiris in two.

　You can die. I don't care. If you can't get past one of your masters, there's no point in having these limbs, no point in your heart beating. I'd rather die than lose all meaning and go back to the days when I couldn't have anything again.

　A flash of black and purple lightning drew a smooth line across the battlefield. The barbaric voices and battlefield music that had been pounding in my ears had somehow become much more distant.

　--Five seconds.