The arena, deep at night. The VIP area.
Not every first-tier delver was in attendance, but plenty were watching.
In the upper seats, Alhazard Abramilin stroked his beard and spoke.
"So you really do intend for your disciple to win."
"Naturally. That's what I've been working toward all this time. As for the details of what I did... well, you probably already know."
The witch's emerald eyes fixed on him with an unsettling glint.
Alhazard Abramilin sighed.
"...Honestly, I didn't think you were the overprotective type."
"My, my. A master working hard for her pupil — what else would you expect?"
"Fair point. It seems you've grown up a bit yourself, thanks to him. That's wonderful."
"I've always been an adult, you know."
Alhazard Abramilin laughed at the witch's scowl.
Directly below them sat Pakira and Megatia Megalopolis.
Pakira had Dagaa resting on her lap. Dagaa was curled up, fast asleep.
"...He's strong."
"He is. More than I expected."
"I had no idea Wof was that str... I mean, I didn't used to know."
"He must have grown stronger. That witch did something to him."
"That's true, but..."
"Is it that shocking to learn something you didn't know about him?"
"…I suppose it might be."
Pakira answered softly, twining her two white tails together.
Megadia murmured absently.
"Wof's quite popular, you know."
"…So it would seem."
"I mean, heroes tend to be fond of women, so that doesn't really bother me."
"Is that so?"
Pakira looked uneasy.
Megadia gave a soft chuckle.
"I'm just saying it doesn't bother me, is all."
"You…"
Pakira narrowed her eyes.
Megadia pressed a finger to her lips and smiled even more alluringly.
"That offer to make him my hired hand — I'm still serious about it."
"He's a delver now, you know."
"Oh, there's no rule saying you can't hire a delver."
"That may be, but there's one big obstacle — he's a fox girl."
"Oh my, oh my, oh my. White Cat, do you need something from me?"
The witch called down to Pakira from above.
It was a captivatingly beautiful smile that made anyone who saw it stare in wonder.
Pakira spoke with composure while stroking Dagaa on her lap.
"Eavesdropping — what a fine hobby you have, witch."
"My, my, my. I was speaking at a volume the kittens could hear, you know."
"Were you now?"
"I think it was a perfectly normal volume, honestly. Witch."
Megadia spoke with a hint of exasperation.
The witch smiled vaguely.
"Mhm, mhm. So then, you have no business with Kon, is that it?"
"More importantly, Master — can you really afford to take your eyes off your disciple's important match?"
When Pakira said that, the witch fell silent. Megadia managed a faint, wry smile.
Dagaa let out a small yawn and blinked its red eyes.
In one corner of that gaze, for just the briefest instant, a scene flickered.
Wof lying collapsed in a pool of blood.
I was troubled and flustered.
I'd used up too many cards and was lacking a finishing move. And then a thought crossed my mind.
It's a trivial thing, but [Revmove] doesn't come with the "Gloves of the Silent Saint," does it.
Those "Gloves of the Silent Saint" had been shattered to pieces as well.
They'd regenerate automatically, but somehow I felt apologetic toward the witch.
For my part, having broken through Alverd's armor and dealt him wounds was a major triumph.
But at the cost of that, I'd burned through all of [Knife Magic] and it had entered cooldown.
My trump card [Reave Move] had one use left. [Deep Stillness] was also nearing its usage limit.
For offense, I had [Banish] and two knives.
I was slightly regretting not bringing an extra knife.
Alverd possessed swordsmanship far beyond mine, plus [Crash] and [Impact].
And then [Brechen]. I figured it was some kind of Relic related to collapse or destruction.
He'd said he never intended to use it on people, and I could sort of understand why.
That he was willing to use it against me was quite the honor.
But he had so many offensive options. And beyond that, he was stronger. I'd known, but he was too strong.
His use of Relics was impressive, but his swordsmanship above all.
I believed natural talent played a part, but most of that skill was the fruit of relentless training.
Alverd was the kind of man who didn't consider training a hardship.
That was why he'd forged a strength you couldn't help but respect, annoyingly enough.
Alverd had been wearing something like a black undershirt beneath his armor.
There was a hole in his side. It must have been a shallow wound—the bleeding had stopped completely.
Alverd spoke.
"In such a short time, the witch's dedication to shaping you into this is nothing short of magnificent. And you, who rose to meet that effort... I'm proud of you."
"Thank you."
I was genuinely happy. Being recognized by Alverd von Lutbert was an honor.
Alverd's black eyes fixed on me with a gaze so sharp it could cut.
"That said, I don't plan on losing."
"Neither do I."
I made up my mind. I resolved to use Leap Move.
And the one who moved first was Alverd.
"Crash."
"Haaah!"
Without using Banish, I unleashed Crash.
Alverd struck without flinching.
"Brechen — Impact."
"Banish."
Brechen was nullified, but the shockwave that followed couldn't be dodged.
There's no time to swing the knife — no. I'll make time.
This is the last Leap Move.
"One Slash, Demon Sever!!!"
The sword strike I unleashed at full power tore through Impact.
And it reached Alverd. A brutal vertical gash scored across his body as he slammed into the wall.
At the same time, I was cut too. A flashing, sweeping blade carved a vivid horizontal slash across my torso.
In that instant, Alverd counterattacked. No — more like a counter.
I spat blood and collapsed. Blood flowed from my abdomen, pooling beneath me.
I saw it. Alverd was down too.
"......"
Fighting against my fading consciousness, I managed to pull a small vial from my pouch and pour its contents into my mouth.
The wounds healed in an instant, my awareness sharpened, and all fatigue vanished.
There was no rule saying I couldn't use an elixir for recovery medicine.
Still, feeling like a coward, I stood up.
Alverd, leaning against the wall, was breathing roughly, coughing up blood.
From beneath his golden hair, he stared at me with eyes darker than the night itself.
My heart shuddered. And then I felt it.
For the first time, I felt like I'd glimpsed into the heart of Alverd von Lutbert.
I felt I had seen even the tiniest fraction of a heart no one else could see or touch.
Looking back at him, I took another small vial from my pouch.
"Alverd."
I tossed it to him.
He caught it, looking perplexed.
"Let's settle this in the next five minutes. You understand what I'm saying, right?"
"......Ah."
Nodding, Alverd drank the vial's contents.
His wounds healed, and he stood up.
Then, grinning with what looked like genuine pleasure for the first time, he chanted.
"I am the thousand gods who protect the king. Pseudo-deification Relic[Thousand Kill Arcos]"
The final battle with Alverd von Rootbelt had begun.