I landed on the rooftop of the building and moved my blade in a seamless arc.
A faint vibration and the whisper of friction.
I cut a circular hole through the floor beneath my feet and dropped inside.
"Gueh!?"
Crushing the soldier directly beneath me, I beheaded the two others standing nearby.
The last soldier in the room raised a staff and began chanting.
I drove the tip of my sword into his throat, cutting off the incantation.
"...Ugh..."
The soldier, tears welled in his eyes, glared at me.
He was trying to speak, but no words came out.
Only the sound of air escaping.
I lowered my gaze and withdrew my blade.
A spray of backspatter drenched me.
The soldier clutched his neck, crumpled to his knees, and died.
I used sensory magic.
It seemed I had eliminated every soldier in this building.
There were no hidden presences.
"..."
I touched the robe I wore.
It had soaked up the backspatter and become sodden, a little heavy now.
The original color was hard to distinguish now.
When I squeezed slightly, blood welled out.
There was nothing to do but leave it be.
Even if I squeezed a little here, it would only get dirtier elsewhere.
Quite some time had passed since my conversation with Saint Makia.
I raced through the city, cutting down Holy Staff Nation soldiers.
I had killed at least three thousand of them.
Most were those who had been hiding indoors.
I used detection magic to locate those at distant points, and simply cut and cut and kept cutting.
It was a very methodical approach, but thus far it was proceeding extremely well.
The drain on my magic power was minimal.
If this continued, it would be possible to maintain my combat capability right up to the point of annihilation.
The soldiers were busy performing a technique to supply magic power to Makia, focusing their concentration on that.
Because of this, they could not respond to my assault.
When they tried to guard against my attacks, they could no longer concentrate on the technique, causing interruptions in the magic supply.
Thus, they had no choice but to expose themselves undefended.
Thanks to that, the battles themselves were accumulating smooth victories.
I would continue cutting down soldiers as I was.
Once the supply source was gone, Makia would naturally weaken.
Lacking abundant magic power, she would be unable to use her sacred magic properly.
If I could reach that point, I should be able to win even in a direct confrontation.
I exit the building and sprint down the alley.
Using detection magic, I had already pinpointed the position of the nearest soldier.
Partway through, chains of light attack from behind.
There are about twenty of them.
I keep running while batting them aside with my sword.
The long-range attacks from the chains of light had clearly decreased in frequency.
Makia was accounting for the casualties among her soldiers.
Facing the mounting damage, she was starting to worry about her mana consumption.
"Where are you?! Come out, you coward!"
Makia's furious shouts carry from a distance.
She was leading her soldiers in a search for me.
They hadn't been able to pinpoint my location.
Relying solely on the auto-tracking of the chains of light for an approximate direction, they were searching for me.
Makia wanted a decisive battle to end quickly.
If this continued, the Holy Staff Nation's forces would only keep taking more casualties.
Once her mana ran dry, her chance of victory would vanish.
She would want to find me no matter what.
That was precisely why I was using stealth magic.
And since my killing was done primarily with a sword, it didn't draw much attention either.
With the body enhancement active, my movement speed far surpasses theirs.
Unless they make a serious miscalculation, they will never catch me.
I continue my slaughter without once encountering Makia.
(This time, underground?)
Detection magic reveals the positions of nearby soldiers.
It seems they are hiding beneath the houses.
They have taken considerable care to avoid being found.
They appear to be cloaking themselves with concealment magic and holding their breath, but they cannot escape my sight.
I open the door and infiltrate the house.
I destroy the magic item traps set inside with my sword, shatter the door leading underground, and descend the staircase.
Darkness sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs.
They do not seem to be using any form of lighting.
At that moment, an arrow flew out from the depths of the darkness.
I catch it bare-handed and stop it.
Looking at the arrowhead, something had been coated on it.
That wretched feeling — it appeared to be holy water.
For the undead, it was something akin to poison.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
A war cry erupted as a soldier rushed up the staircase, unarmed.
This must be the one who fired the arrow.
They must have ambushed me without supplying magic to Makia. The soldier's body was rapidly swelling with magic. He was also feverish, emitting white smoke. Blood streamed from his ears and eyes. (This is, could it be...?) Sensing the soldier's scheme, I kicked away the figure that tried to cling to me. The soldier tumbled down the stairs and immediately exploded. The explosion scattered flesh fragments as it blasted the surroundings. The area instantly became drenched in blood. That was a self-detonation technique. Even if it cost his life, the soldier must have wanted to kill me. I had to respect that resolve. "...Hurts... Help... me..." Groans came from the top of the stairs. I went to check. There, several injured soldiers lay. Wood splinters pierced their limbs and torsos. They seemed to be victims of the recent explosion. They must have been the ones supplying magic to Makia.
I cut down the defenseless soldiers.
Ignoring their pleas for mercy, I brought my blade down instead.
After killing them all, I flicked the blood from my sword and returned to the surface.
(This really makes me hate myself. I can't even claim to be the hero I once was...)
Tonight, I alone killed thousands of people with only my sword.
It's madness.
I have no right to condemn the Holy Staff Nation's massacres.
Perhaps I am already insane.
For ten years in the Valley of the Dead, I repeated my agonized questions.
My body rotted away, my heart withered, yet I still suffered.
In that process, I likely fell into madness.
I can no longer trust my own judgment.
The only certainty is that I have something to do, and I must see it through.
I cannot stop now.
I had no choice but to push through.
Whether I'm sane or not is secondary.
After that, I continued my slaughter against the soldiers.
I kept cutting with my sword, again and again.
My robe was completely discolored by the blood spatter, constantly dripping red.
As for my heirloom sword, it was no problem.
Its sharpness remained intact, and the handling felt flawless.
As expected of the legendary blade that slew the Demon Lord.
I continued to build a mound of soldiers' corpses for some time.
As the first hints of dawn approached, I was hiding atop a building.
My gaze was fixed on the rubble-strewn wasteland, where cover was sparse.
There stood Saint Makia.
Around her, the surviving soldiers had gathered.
They had placed light-emitting magic at equal intervals, illuminating the perimeter.
They must have realized that if they remained isolated, they would be slaughtered piecemeal.
No others remained hidden elsewhere.
That army surrounding her was the entirety of the Holy Staff forces for this engagement.
(Around seven thousand, perhaps.)
There might be a slight margin of error, but it was certainly below ten thousand.
Compared to their initial scale, they were less than half.
From here, assassination tactics were no longer feasible.
I had to proceed assuming discovery was inevitable.
I too was prepared to fight through exhaustion.
Dawn was drawing near.
Once the surroundings were bathed in morning light, the Holy Staff army's vision would improve.
I wanted to settle this while the cover of night still allowed me to fight.
(Should I strike first?)
I compress lightning magic in my palm.
I want to deal continuous damage in a single blow as much as possible.
They still hold the numerical advantage.
It's imperative to chip away at them with the initial strike.
I hurl the completed ball of lightning skyward.
The compressed sphere glides smoothly above the Holy Staff army.
Under everyone's gaze, it detonates in a blinding flash.