Chapter 42

(Ah... I might have won!)

Seria von Arsline sensed victory and a smile of satisfaction spread across her face.

Normally, one should not smile during a battle. It can lead to complacency or arrogance, and it is also a sign of disrespect to the enemy.

However, she could not suppress the relaxation of her facial muscles. Her heart was elated, unable to contain the excitement of winning against a formidable opponent, a peer in the use of holy swords, whom she had never fought before.

The battle between Raidor and Seria had been going on for less than five minutes. Neither of them had any noticeable injuries, and to an outsider, it might seem as if the battle had just begun.

However, in that short time, Seria had realized the decisive difference in strength between herself and her enemy and was confident in her own superiority.

Raidor Zain was the first holy sword wielder Seria had ever fought as an enemy.

The Arsline Empire had three holy swords, including Seria's Clausolas, but she had never seriously fought against her allies.

Seeing Raidor wield his holy sword, Seria broke out in a cold sweat at the torrent of power.

His ability to create a massive black tornado that transformed the battlefield made him seem more like a demon or evil god from a myth than a hero chosen by a holy sword.

His overwhelming power even instilled fear in her.

However—

(To draw out that much power from a holy sword is really impressive... but that's all it is.)

Releasing an attack capable of mowing down thousands of soldiers was something even Seria, a fellow holy sword wielder, could not do.

Her father, the emperor and a holy sword wielder, could use the holy sword Durandal to turn a battlefield into a scorched earth, and Raidor's power was on par with that.

Still—Seria thought.

She would never lose. She was superior.

"Hey, big brother. You must have noticed by now, right? You can't beat me with that holy sword."

Seria said this in a tone that sounded almost sympathetic as she swung Clausolas at Raidor.

"Tch..."

Raidor spat and deflected the lightning-imbued slash with Dainsleif.

The holy sword Dainsleif, which conjures a curse-laden wind—capable of altering the landscape and cutting through thousands of soldiers with a cursed slash, causing status effects. Its power was undoubtedly capable of turning the tide of battle single-handedly.

However, in a battle between holy sword wielders, this power was not as fearsome.

Holy sword wielders are blessed by their holy swords and have strong resistance to curses and other status effects.

(Moreover, my power is lightning. It's faster and sharper than wind!)

"Yah!"

With a shout, Seria unleashed a lightning attack.

Raidor immediately countered with a curse-laden wind, but the black slash was torn apart and dissipated by the lightning.

"Damn!"

"Of course. In terms of power and speed, wind can't match lightning. Your holy sword is inferior to Clausolas."

"...You really know how to talk, don't you? About someone's partner!"

Raidor's face twisted in frustration. However, it was clear that it looked more like the whine of a loser.

The curse-laden slashes from Dainsleif were indeed troublesome, but they were ultimately just wind. They lacked mass and energy compared to fire or lightning.

Even if Raidor could use more power at once than Seria, a direct clash of power would always result in Seria's victory.

(Still... I think you have better potential as a holy sword wielder than me. Attacking thousands at once is something I can't do.)

"Big brother, why don't you give up and surrender? If you surrender peacefully, I won't treat you badly."

Seria made the offer of surrender with a tone that even contained pity.

In her mind, Raidor's defeat was already a foregone conclusion, and he was categorized as "not worth killing."

"My father is quite lenient with strong people. If you serve the empire and wield your holy sword for it, I think he would value you highly."

"...It's a tempting offer, isn't it? Really."

Raidor clenched his teeth in frustration, realizing he was being underestimated.

Still, the flames of fighting spirit burned in his eyes, and Seria tilted her head in confusion at his unyielding will.

"Big brother, why are you trying so hard? Is it really because the Zain Kingdom is so important to you?"

"It's not important, this country...!"

Raidor bared his teeth and growled like a beast.

"This country has abandoned me. It's using me. It's toying with my life for the sake of peace! How could I have any attachment to such a country? I hate this country!"

There were soldiers of the kingdom around, but Raidor could not suppress his outpouring of emotion.

"Then why?"

"That's...!"

If the Zain Kingdom were to be defeated by the Arsline Empire, her brother, King Granade, would be executed.

On the other hand, Raidor might survive as a holy sword wielder with recognized value.

The result might seem not so bad.

"But, this is my own desire, mine alone! I won't entrust my revenge to anyone else! I will achieve my revenge with my own hands!"

Raidor thrust his sword at Seria and declared resolutely.

"Besides... there's no point in surrendering when you can win! I will defeat you and the empire and move forward!"

"You can't do that..."

Seria spoke as if trying to reason with a stubborn child, but in the next moment, her eyes widened to their limits.

"Huh..."

"Oooooooooooh!"

A loud roar echoed across the battlefield. It was a battle cry, the voice of an approaching warrior.

Seria hurriedly turned her head to search for the source of the sound... and looked back.

"No... Why!?"

Seria screamed in horror.

What she saw when she turned around was the imperial camp, built on a small hill, being attacked by someone.

"Sorry, but this isn't a one-on-one duel. It's a war, princess."

Raidor said coldly.

Seria did not hear his words. She stood there in a daze, staring at the flames rising from her own camp.

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