And so, the lethal, all-piercing magic weapons rained down on the soldiers, who had lost their means to protect themselves.

  It was sheer pandemonium. The Empire had intended to use its mageblades to butcher the citizens of a kingdom weakened by monsters, but now they were stabbing through the arms, legs, shoulders, and torsos of the panicked soldiers as they tried to escape. The unlucky ones were hit more than once.

  Most of the soldiers ran around screaming, desperate to get away, but the stauncher few rearmed themselves and adopted fighting stances, readying themselves for their unknown enemy’s next attack. It proved to be a futile effort—their swords were sent flying again.

  Nobody knew what was going on. They couldn’t see or sense anything...yet their weapons had once again vanished.

  Something was wrong. The impossible was happening. Every last soldier realized this, and it drove them to panic. They didn’t even know what was attacking them. The imperial army had possessed every advantage and thought itself unbeatable, but now it was having to face its own fragility.

  Just like that, the battlefield devolved into pure chaos. Some cast their weapons aside, shouting and screaming. Others sat and prayed to their gods. Some could only beg for help as they lay covered in blood. The army’s advance, once proud and assured of victory, was now wrapped in the grim aura of despair.

  Even the most stalwart soldiers found their morale shot by the fourth time they were disarmed. Unable to grasp the true form of whatever inexplicable phenomenon was attacking them, they lashed out in terror, injuring their own compatriots.

  Then, as their will to fight reached an all-time low, the soldiers noticed seven huge silhouettes in the sky above them. Four looked like massive tubes, while the remaining three took the form of large crosses. Those who recognized them immediately doubted their eyes; they were the four Brionac cannons, the imperial army’s superweapons, and the three Aegises, their impenetrable magical bulwarks. They were symbols of the Empire’s proud, state-of-the-art magical science—peerless armaments that promised glorious victory.

  So...why were they up there?

  As the soldiers stared up at the sky, doubt struck them. Then, as the seven objects spun slowly overhead and crashed into the ground with seven thunderous roars, the army fell even further into despair. Their unparalleled cannons had plunged deep into the earth, and their defensive generators were so bent and mangled that not a trace of their original cross shape remained. The detailed conduits engraved into the equipment were dark, meaning there was no more magic in them.

  It was clear to everyone that all seven armaments were now useless.

  The imperial army had lost its superweapons and its bulwarks, and its soldiers no longer had their swords or shields. That could only mean one thing: they had suffered complete and utter defeat. Almost everyone possessed enough reason to realize this.

  But there were still some who refused to yield—those of stout hearts and strong minds who picked their swords back up time and time again, gallantly seeking out their hidden enemy. It was no use, though; soon enough, their morale crumbled too. Their swords were being shattered as though they were glass, and by something they couldn’t even see.

  “What...is this? What’s...happening?”

  At long last, the imperial general in command of the entire army managed to eke out a few words. Before, the army had been making a spirited advance to conquer the royal capital, but now they saw it as a place where helplessness, despair, and terror reigned.

  And so, by the time the ebbing tide of silver had made its seventh circuit, not a single soldier possessed the will to fight. Nobody even attempted to pick up their sword. The ten-thousand-strong imperial army that had prided itself on being utterly undefeatable had been completely annihilated, and all without suffering a single fatality.

  Chapter 39: The Emperor’s Steed

  The emperor watched the approaching silver tide. Although he didn’t quite understand what he was looking at, he found the way it roiled through the sky as though it were alive simply captivating.

  “What is that?”

  A closer inspection revealed the answer: it was a cluster of swords. Very familiar swords. In fact, they looked exactly like the mageblades he’d supplied to his imperial army. But how could that possibly be the case? For what reason would they now be spinning through the air?

  Before the emperor could question his senses any further, he realized there was somebody standing behind him. He whirled around from atop his horse and was greeted with the sight of a man holding something...black. The unexpected figure was looking straight at him, and their eyes met.

  “Who are you?”

  The emperor received no answer. An instant later, the man vanished as though he’d never been there to begin with.

  “What in...?”

  Suddenly, the earth where the phantom had stood cracked, rocking the nearby area. The emperor’s horse whinnied in fear, and the countless silver swords in the sky began to rain down on the imperial army below.

  The soldiers raised their nigh-impenetrable mageshields in unison, ready to ward off the onslaught—and that was when the emperor noticed they weren’t holding their mageblades. He tugged on his horse’s reins, trying to calm the beast, then called out to his imperial guards nearby.

  “What is the meaning of this? What’s happening?”

  None of them answered; they were all too busy staring skyward, muttering to themselves in dumbfounded shock.

  Unable to help himself, the emperor followed their gazes to see the air now full of...boards? They seemed familiar too, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

  Again, the emperor questioned his subjects: “What are those planks doing up there?” And again, nobody even attempted to respond. Everyone was too busy trying to avoid the falling swords—and now, the soldiers were completely empty-handed.

  What in the world was happening? As the emperor searched for an answer, the phantom from before reappeared behind him.

  “You again?”

  Their eyes met once more. The emperor observed the man’s face more intently this time, and that was when he realized—

  “Aren’t you...?”

  This was the same person he’d spotted through his [Farsight] magical tool—the man who’d moved to protect Ines, the Divine Shield. But...that couldn’t be right. If this really was him, then why was he here? Not even thirty seconds ago, he had been standing in the capital, about as far away as the [Farsight] tool was capable of seeing. How had he traveled so quickly?

  No, that wasn’t important right now. There were more pressing concerns. It was clear from the man’s unremitting stare that he knew he was looking at the ruler of the Magic Empire. But what was he after? In circumstances such as these, there could only be one answer:

  He had come for the emperor’s head.

  “Eep!”

  An unusual squeak passed the emperor’s lips. He had an entire army at his beck and call, yet he was completely defenseless. His subjects, to whom he’d bestowed such reliable weapons, looked to be useless. Even his imperial guard, who were always stationed near him, were engulfed in the surrounding chaos. The situation couldn’t have been more favorable for an assassin.

  Upon realizing his predicament, the emperor shrunk back in terror—but his fears quickly subsided when he remembered that he was fully clad in his resplendent golden Kaiser’s Armor. It was made of orichalcum and could repel any attack or spell.

  Let the man come, he thought.

  It was clear now that the imperial army was useless, so the emperor would simply need to fight for himself. Not even masters of the blade could match his skills with a sword, and it was with this reassuring thought that he drew his custom-made Kaiser’s Blade—equally as radiant and golden as his armor—from its scabbard at his hip. Still atop his horse, he got ready for combat.

  Only the man did not rise to the challenge. He looked away as if no longer interested and once again vanished into thin air.

  “So you won’t come for me after all, eh?”

  All of a sudden, something else appeared in the sky—a large, black tube. It landed right in front of the emperor, stabbing into the earth with a booming crash.

  “Gack!”

  The emperor tumbled from his vaunted steed and received a mouthful of dirt for his troubles. He jerked his head up as quickly as he could, and that was when he realized the black mana-metal tube before him looked almost like a Brionac, one of the Magic Empire’s newly developed superweapons. That couldn’t be right, though... Just a moment ago, the Brionacs had all been pointed at the city of that idiot king. It was impossible for one to have fallen from the sky.

  Then, another three tubes dropped down from above. Each one speared the ground with a deafening boom.

  “How? How is this happening?”

  Nobody replied. Usually, such impudence would have made the emperor fly into a rage, but the scenery before him was simply too chaotic.

  “What... What is this?”

  As the emperor started to repeat himself, the man appeared behind him for a third time. Again, the phantom merely stared before vanishing without a sound.

  “Who is that?”

  The emperor’s head was full of nothing but questions. Desperate to find at least some answers, he frantically started organizing his thoughts.

  He had brought with him ten thousand soldiers arranged in perfect formation, each armed with an impenetrable shield and a blade that would turn them into a mighty warrior. They couldn’t have been more lavishly equipped. And considering that they were effectively a cleanup squad—one final nail in the coffin of an already defeated King Clays—their victory should have been guaranteed. The emperor had intended for this to be an enjoyable little jaunt more than anything else.

  Nothing should have been able to stop the imperial army. The rank and file had their mageblades and mageshields, while the handpicked elite were clad in magearmor and equipped with magecannons. Then there were the four Brionacs, capable of overpowering even the legendary Dragon of Calamity. They even had three Aegises, large-scale magical defenses capable of repelling any magic no matter—

  Right, the Aegises. His invincible shields. They should have made his army invulnerable to any attack or ambush it faced, so why weren’t they working?

  The emperor looked around, and then he spotted them—among the panicking soldiers and the four black tubes sticking out of the earth were three crosses bent violently out of shape. Were they...? No, it was impossible. The strange objects before him looked nothing like the Aegises he remembered. Those were a brilliant white, and their delicately engraved circuits glowed with magical light. Their solemn majesty had almost a divine quality—nothing like the wretched lumps of scrap iron he was currently seeing.

  “They can’t have been broken. It’s impossible.”

  The Aegises were the ultimate defense, capable of repelling anything. They were invincible shields that should have protected the undefeated imperial army...so how had they come to be like this?

  “Why is this happening?”

  The emperor couldn’t understand. Then, once more, the mysterious man appeared, holding his sinister black sword.

  “What is—? No...”

  The emperor’s eyes bulged as, for the first time, he realized what he was looking at. In the man’s grasp was the Black Blade, the peerless relic he’d sought ever since he happened to see it being used by the idiot king. It couldn’t be anything else.

  Then, suspicion struck again. If that truly was the Black Blade...then who was this man? That fool King Clays had always refused to part with the sword, so why was it now in this stranger’s possession? And how was he so casually holding it one-handed...?

  The Black Blade was unique in every single way. It was impervious to magic and made of a material tougher than orichalcum, dragontusk, and even adamantite, the hardest known metal. But most notable of all was its inexplicable weight; not even ten strong soldiers could carry it.

  Yet here was this man, wielding it with one hand. It was a preposterous achievement. The “great” King Clays, whose absurd strength made him capable of sending a hundred men flying with one arm, had needed both hands to use the Black Blade—and even then he had only barely been able to swing it.

  “Ridiculous.”

  The evidence all pointed to one conclusion: this man was even stronger than the monstrous King Clays. It was nonsensical to think that such a person could exist. But if this phantom truly was holding the Black Blade, and without the slightest sign of exertion...then nothing could stand in his way. The entire world was at his mercy.

  “Ludicrous. Simply ludicrous.”

  The emperor babbled to himself, not wanting to believe such a harrowing explanation, but it was too late; he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. Although he didn’t know why or how this had all come to be, one thing was certain: this man was the cause. The Black Blade in his hand could only have been bequeathed to him by King Clays himself, which meant he was the absolute dolt’s vanguard. He was clearly an important asset, so why was the emperor, who had more than enough subordinates gathering intelligence on the Kingdom’s affairs, only learning about him now? Had their research not been thorough enough...or had the Kingdom only recently acknowledged this man’s talents? Was it even possible that someone so powerful could go entirely unnoticed for so long?

  In any case, the outcome was the same. A single man had deprived ten thousand soldiers of their blades and shields, driving the entire imperial army into chaos. He had stabbed their Brionacs deep into the ground and reduced their Aegises to miserable piles of scrap.

  The emperor’s face contorted in anguish as he finally accepted this catastrophic nightmare as the truth. There was one thing he still couldn’t understand, though—if this man possessed such strength, why hadn’t he attacked yet? He had the perfect opportunity to cut down the ruler of the Magic Empire.

  What was there to do? This man evidently knew the emperor’s location—they had met eyes more than once now—but he refused to act. Instead, he appeared and disappeared, over and over again. It was almost like the emperor was being mocked...and the moment that crossed his mind, the man’s lips curled into an ominous grin.

  “Aaghck!”

  The emperor let out a choked yelp. He understood the meaning behind that cryptic smile. The man knew his identity and was playing with him, driving him deeper and deeper into a corner and reveling in his terror. That had to be it. This monster was humiliating and toying with his prey, doing exactly what the emperor had wanted to do with King Clays. And why wouldn’t he? A man with such unrivaled strength could do whatever he pleased.

  Again, the man’s lips twisted into a sinister, mocking smile.

  “Eek!”

  This time, the emperor felt something warm run down his leg—then he let out a silent cry of shock as the leering man vanished again.

  It was obvious what needed to be done, and with that thought, the emperor mounted his vaunted steed. It was outfitted with a magical harness of the highest grade, which was constructed of orichalcum and enchanted to increase the mount’s physical strength severalfold. Then the emperor turned his back on his panicked soldiers, urged his horse to go as fast as it could, and ran away from the battlefield—alone.

  Chapter 40: My Training School Instructors

  I kept parrying swords in a single-minded daze and eventually managed to break through the crowd. In front of me now was an old man in shiny golden armor, sitting astride a horse with a similarly gaudy harness. He had turned around and was looking straight at me.

  “Who are you?” he asked the moment our eyes met.

  Truth be told, after seeing this man’s strange getup, I wanted to return the question. I didn’t have the time to stop for a pleasant chat, though; I could see the swords I’d just parried falling toward the ground. If the soldiers reclaimed their weapons and came at me all at once, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  I needed to hurry. I needed to keep parrying. So, I dashed back into the crowd of soldiers at full tilt, entirely focused on running circles around them and deflecting their weapons. As it turned out, they also had shields of some kind, which they were using to repel the falling swords. I decided to parry those too.

  Somewhere along the way, I noticed some of the massive black tubes that had fired the crimson beams from earlier, as well as some white cross-shaped devices that were giving off the same light. I sent them all flying upward with as much strength as I could muster.

  I was well aware that I was only buying time, but parrying those things was way better than just leaving them there. I pressed on, turning aside everything in sight...and eventually found myself at the back of the crowd again, where the shiny old man was still atop his horse.

  “You again?”

  As soon as our eyes met, he called out to me. I wanted to greet him in turn, but I couldn’t speak; my nonstop parrying hadn’t given me time to catch my breath.

  “Come!”

  The old man looked scared. He drew a sword from the scabbard at his hip, but his arms were so skinny that he couldn’t hold it straight. Maybe he thought I was some kind of villain here to take his life. Given all that was going on, I didn’t blame him.

  Still, I didn’t see a need to parry his sword away; it was pretty obvious from how he was holding it that he wouldn’t be able to swing at me. He was just pointing the tip in my direction to keep me away, so I decided to ignore him and ran back toward the soldiers who’d started picking up their weapons.

  After another round of parrying, I realized that I’d returned to the back of the crowd again. I stopped and started taking deep breaths—I needed at least a short break so that I wouldn’t collapse—but as I was greedily sucking air into my lungs, I noticed something strange. For some reason, the old man was now in a heap on the ground, his face covered in dirt. Had something happened to make him fall off his horse? Would he be okay?

 

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