IBMATG 45

Sigurd and I stood where we were and stared at each other in silence for several minutes.

To anyone else it probably looked like nothing but a strange, frozen stillness. But for me, that silence came right after I’d crossed the thin line between life and death several times already.

We were exchanging nothing but fighting intent — reading and replying to each other’s battle will — and from that exchange I could predict offense and defense moves dozens, even hundreds of steps ahead. The final, unavoidable conclusion from those hundreds of calculated moves was:

“You can’t win.”

I would lose.

I’d never faced an opponent like this before.

Even I hadn’t known it was possible to make predictions of offense and defense to this degree just by trading intent. If that skill were used in real combat, one could read an enemy’s mind, predict attacks several moves ahead, and act accordingly. Such predictive ability would put the wielder at an overwhelming advantage.

The orc hero wielding the greatsword in front of me — Sigurd — had pushed the limits of my ability up one notch. At the same time, that very fact meant the person who’d pulled me up like that stood above me.

He looked at me as if he were looking down from a height and seemed to be saying:

— Now do you clearly see? You can never beat me.

He’d raised my potential and then shown me my limits, making the hierarchy undeniable.

“You can’t win… I will lose…”

Only bleak thoughts filled my head.

If I lost, would that bastard spare my life? What fate would befall my comrades whose morale collapsed after the duel? And…

“Yadgar.”

My son.

The lives of everyone standing behind me hung on the tip of my blade. I could not lose this duel. No matter what.

“By any means necessary!”

I resolved then that I’d accept no scruples about methods. Like those filthy orcs, I would not hesitate to use dirty tricks.

Whoosh!

Without warning I swung my sword to send a fierce gust of blade-energy at Sigurd. He casually swung his greatsword and dispersed the wind attack.

“Your opening was sloppy!”

He charged at me as if to ram shoulders. I used that momentum against him, moving sideways and smoothly slashing with my one-handed sword. A fast cut, honed by sword ki, struck his shoulder.

Normally that would have ripped flesh or at least severed an arm in an instant, but—

KANG!

My blade-energy bounced right off his shoulder. A strange whirlwind surrounding him had perfectly canceled out my mana.

“That wind… there’s no way through it.”

I’d sensed a mysterious force, unbreakable even against my predictive reads of offense and defense. That force was the whirlwind.

“Is that… also a god’s power? Damn.”

It wasn’t Sigurd’s personal power. That force was of a completely different nature. The guy equipped with “Thor’s Blessing” I’d met before had struggled with something similar, but that fellow himself was weak at core, so I could overcome it with my ability.

But now this one’s personal skill level was comparable to or above mine, and on top of that he was protected by a god’s blessing. There was no chance I could win on my own.

“This damn unfair world!”

The absurdity of the world hit me hard. Weak people like us weren’t watched over by anyone, yet brutal orcs like that were cared for by countless gods.

Of course, complaining now changed nothing. All I could do was struggle as hard as possible under the circumstances.

KAKAKAKAKANG! PAKANG!

In a short span, Sigurd and I exchanged countless slashes and cut across the battlefield in a straight line. Our speed was too fast for normal eyes to follow.

His overwhelming greatsword weight pushed me; I retreated, barely parrying with single-handed strokes. I was on the defensive, only able to deflect.

“Just a bit… more…”

Thanks to that, the fight moved farther into our lines. Part of the reason I was being pushed back was skill difference, but I’d also deliberately guided us that way. My opponent hadn’t noticed my intent.

“Honor is meaningless… For those of us fighting to survive daily, life matters more!”

When the moment felt right, I shouted with all my strength.

“Mona!”

Sigurd faced me, and behind him stood Mona. She immediately understood my shout and, without hesitation, leapt into the duel. Warrior pride meant nothing. To survive, we had to win by any means.

I’m thirsty.

My head feels like it’s about to split.

A burning thirst and a brutal headache leave me barely able to hold myself together.

“Where… am I…?”

I looked around.

Dirty walls and floor. A tiny window letting in slivers of sunlight. Iron bars. This place looked like a prison. My arms and legs were bound behind me with heavy chains so I couldn’t move.

For some reason I was being held by someone.

“My memory… isn’t coming back…”

I couldn’t remember from what point. I knew who I was and that I’d lost my wife and had a son — so I didn’t have full amnesia. I tried to piece my memory together step by step. If I followed the thread I’d find the last thing that happened to me.

“I met Mona… and then… the enemy attacked… Sigurd… ah.”

After thinking long and hard, the scattered shards of memory finally fit together.

“I pulled Mona into the duel with me. In that moment….”

Sigurd’s gaze changed. The whirlwind that had surrounded him quickly swelled, growing so vast it covered the entire battlefield. The wind blew so fiercely that it scattered my sword ki.

“That… ripped everything in that place apart.”

My judgment had been wrong. I’d tried to lured him into our lines so we could gang up on Sigurd, but that plan had no meaning from the start. The godly power he’d unleashed was stronger than I’d imagined.

I guessed he hadn’t used it earlier simply because he wanted a pure duel of swords with me.

“His power was strong enough to sweep an entire army… damn.”

It wasn’t the skill-gap I’d felt when predicting blows — it was a different order of magnitude. It was literally not skill but raw power itself. Like an ant no matter how well it fights is powerless before humans, I was just a pitiful creature before real godly power.

“Haa…”

My fate had already been decided. No matter what I did, I couldn’t beat Sigurd. We who lost the duel were destined to suffer. We were being dragged into the doom ordained by the enemy’s god.

Could anything be more absurd?

“Wait, Yadgar?”

At that moment my son came back into my mind. From the last memory I’d had, our forces couldn’t possibly have beaten the orc army. If we couldn’t even take down Sigurd, there was no way to handle the orc forces gathered behind him. That meant the city behind us would have been left defenseless and ravaged. And my son inside—

“No! Yadgar!”

Panic rose in me when that thought landed. My throat cracked, voice splitting. Even though dust choked my throat and pain raked it, worry about Yadgar came first. He couldn’t be dead — he had to be alive. I’d been captured while still alive after fighting on the front lines; if I was taken alive, maybe the civilians who couldn’t resist were spared. If I could get out now and return, maybe I could find my son.

Clank, clank!

I struggled to break the chains binding my whole body.

“These chains…!”

I concentrated mana into my hands and tried to force them apart. But the chains didn’t budge.

“Ugh, without a sword I can’t focus my power.”

If I had one blade in my hands now, I could cut these like tofu. But of course there was nothing like that here.

“Damn…”

Now was not the time to waste. Click. Squeeeak.

At that moment the iron-barred door in front of me opened. I sensed someone approaching, but since my arms and legs were bound behind me and I was lying face-down, I couldn’t raise my head to see. I could only look at the feet of whoever entered.

“…”

They stood inside, silent, for a long time. I spoke first.

“…I’m so thirsty. Bring me some water.”

But the person didn’t answer my request. Instead, he spoke his own words.

“Disappointing.”

A familiar voice. It was Sigurd.

“You fought and beat my comrade so I had expected… but you weren’t even honorable, let alone skilled.”

“Honor? What right do people like you have to talk about that?” I spat back.

The words weren’t calculated — they came from the heart.

“…Yes. That’s right. You’re right.”

Unexpectedly, he admitted it.

“I’m not in a position to talk about that anymore.”

“…What?”

“The dirty things my people have done — I did them too.”

I couldn’t understand what he meant. I knew, yet subconsciously refused to accept it.

“What… what are you talking about?”

He drove his stake into me.

“You will all be killed soon. Everyone in that city.”

“What?”

“Among them will be your family and friends. They will die one by one, in turn, waiting their order, and drown in the sea.”

My chest dropped.

They will all die?

Clank, clank!

“You bastard! What the hell did you do!”

I strained to raise my head to look at his face, but the chain was fixed to the wall and I couldn’t roll over. I had to force my spine and lift my head with sheer effort. For a brief instant I succeeded in seeing Sigurd’s face.

He was crying.

“It’s not my fault. The god told me to do it.”

“Shut up!”

“Odin ordered me to bring people to him. Now you will all go to him… to Valhalla.”

I felt chills. His eyes were hollow as if his spirit had left. Tears streamed down his face, but his mouth smiled. Guilt and joy coexisted on his face in a grotesque emotion.

“Yes, it’s not dirty — it’s a clean thing. You’re sending people to heaven!”

“You bastard! You bastard!”

Clank, clank!

That damn god again. How long were those creatures going to torment me? Whether gods were human-made illusions or real beings with influence, they all seemed mad.

I focused.

I regulated the mana flowing through my body and prepared to amplify my arm strength.

“Huuuu.”

I inhaled deeply, relaxed my muscles fully, and then contracted them quickly. At the same time I concentrated circulating mana into my arm muscles.

“Hgh!”

Clang.

But it failed. The chains only rattled a little.

“Damn… how strong are these?”

If it were ordinary metal, I would have broken it with brute force long ago. But this had extraordinary tensile strength — some special treatment, no doubt.

“My total strength is greater than before… and yet…”

After days bound here, spending whole days concentrating on mana use, my strength had actually improved. Still the chains showed no sign of breaking. Despair washed over me.

“No. I can’t give up.”

I searched for a way to produce more power than I had until now. Any means to escape. Think. Think and find it.

Mana is strong when channeled into a blade. But I had nothing to hold.

“If only there were something in my hands now that could act like a sword…”

Not necessarily a blade — any weapon. If I could just hold something, I could use it…

Clang.

At that moment, something landed in my hand. It was the chain that bound my hand.

“…Yes. That’s it.”

An idea to get out of this logjam came to me. Use the chain itself as a weapon.

Up till now a sword had been my only weapon. But I didn’t need to be bound by that old way of thinking. If I could draw out the pure essence of my power regardless of the form or type of weapon, I could surpass my limits.

“What is this…?”

As my mindset changed, something began to appear. A path of a master who can handle every weapon. I reached out toward that path.