Slowly, his eyes began to open.
Only to find himself alone in the streets of United Front.
"Are you okay?"
"Hey, Hero, are you okay?"
Slowly, his eyes opened, letting the light enter them.
"Huh? Why am I here?" Raymed asked, looking around to find where he was. He rose, rubbing his head, and finally noticed the sword placed in his left hand. Ezel, the Golden Sword, shone gold.
"That's right. Oberon's servant, Puck, helped me teleport here."
***
Before—
Ezel, the Golden Sword, suddenly ruptured through the barrier and entered the Alterity. The destroyed barrier slowly deformed the Alterity cast by Oberon. Looking straight at the sword, I swiftly caught it.
"Ezel? That would mean Kourin is—!" I said, turning to see that Kourin wasn't with Puck anymore.
"AAAAA!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? I NEED TO MAINTAIN MY BARRIER!" Oberon said hysterically. Belial charged with a hammer attack before Oberon cast his magical lances once more to push him back.
"Oberon!" I called, without continuing, hoping he would understand what I meant.
Oberon looked at me with a confused expression before finally saying, "Ah!" He turned to look at Mikoto, who was possessed by Belial, before saying, "I could probably defeat him in your stead. As long as he is only possessing her. But are you sure you want to let this chance slip away?"
"This is your chance to save everyone."
I stood in silence, thinking about how I could do this the fastest.
My mind replayed all the information to justify my situation.
-~
"It's a tactic I have felt once before. The Envoys are once again trying to draw us out. Splitting up will only cause more problems, especially if we can handle it all at once," I said to the Psyteliers and Morgwyn.
-~
Not to mention, I promised her.
-~
"Kourin."
She flinched slightly.
"You are the most precious person I have in this world," I said quietly. "I won't leave you. No matter what you were before. As long as you're trying to move forward—that's all I care about."
-~
Even if you are trying to solve everything alone.
I won't leave you now.
Even if...
There is still conflict inside me.
But this time, I will prioritize you and the others.
"A world where Kourin is no longer there is not a world I would like to be in," I said to Oberon, the King of Fey.
He turned to look at me and said, "I won't criticize your decision. I know that feeling of prioritizing your loved ones better than anyone. If your mind is made up, then go to Puck. He will undoubtedly take you to Kourin."
"Will you be okay, Oberon?"
"Well, it's not like I have never fought one of these guys before. I'll just have to be more serious. You can go, Raymed. But with this, you owe me one," he said with a smirk.
I nodded before flying toward Puck.
"PUCK! TAKE ME TO KOURIN!"
"As you wish, Hero!" He conjured a portal. As I entered it, I heard his words. "Good night, Hero."
***
Present—
"Big Bro Raymed? What are you doing here?" a girl with silver-white hair spoke to me. She moved closer, took my hand, and guided me away from the denizens who were watching me. "I don't really understand what's going on, but let's take shelter at Thalamik's house!"
As I slowly began to sober up, I remembered her. "Thank you, Addison."
Arriving at the house, I was greeted by an old couple. "Ah, welcome. Are you Thalamik's friend?" the woman said. "Welcome to our house! I never thought we would be living in Europe."
"Everyone, I have made you all tea," the woman's husband said, entering the living room. Then I heard an announcement from the television inside the living room.
[Thalamik has used 'Participation Ticket,' substituting for his mentee, Momoka.]
[The battle will continue with Isval vs. Thalamik.]
"Thalamik?"
"Yes... Big Bro Thalamik is now participating in a death game known as the Artifact War."
"What?"
***
The stage was set for the climactic round of the Artifact War. Isval Il Opache was at his strongest, while Thalamik was also at his strongest. Both faced each other with intensity, their magical energy rising.
"Kais— No. Thalamik," Isval said before channeling his magical energy. Then a black sword manifested from his focused mana. It was a black sword with two blue gems at its center. The same one Cobalt had used. "I believe you can already use this as well as I can. I mean, you did get yours from Cobalt."
Thalamik stayed silent as he made an identical gesture. "Come, Blastar." In an instant, Blastar, the Sword of Darkness, manifested, releasing a magical energy wave around Thalamik.
"Hahaha! Yours is much stronger than I expected."
Isval's smile widened.
But Thalamik did not answer.
He only lowered his gaze toward the black sword in his hand.
Blastar, the Sword of Darkness, rested there as if it had always belonged to him. The black blade, with two blue gems at its center, hummed quietly, releasing a pressure that crawled across the empty colosseum floor.
A notification appeared.
[Blastar Manifestation]
[Total Artifact Fragments Achieved: 300+]
[Fragments spent will still be counted as achieved fragments.]
[Summoning Blastar will not consume Artifact Fragments.]
[Both contestants have fulfilled the inheritance condition.]
[Blastar, the Sword of Darkness, has manifested.]
Isval glanced at the notification before laughing. "So even spent fragments count. How kind of this cursed sword."
Thalamik remained silent.
His grip on Blastar did not tremble.
For the past three months, he had already trained with it. Before his supposed fight against Cobalt, before Cobalt had given him his memories, before everything had collapsed into this final stage, Thalamik had already managed to unlock Blastar and learn its weight.
Something whispered in his ears.
Determination...
Isval raised his own Blastar, resting the blade over his shoulder.
"You seem unsurprised."
"..."
"Of course." Isval's smile sharpened. "You already knew."
"I trained."
"For how long?"
"Enough."
"How unfair. I only started using this thing properly a week ago."
"Then you shouldn't have challenged me."
For a moment, Isval's smile twitched.
Then he disappeared forward.
CLANG!
The two Blastars collided.
Sparks of magical energy began spreading everywhere.
Isval pushed forward. "HAAA!!"
Thalamik remained silent.
He simply received the blow, barely moving.
Isval's eyes narrowed. "Nonchalant, are we?"
Thalamik looked at him without even responding.
"Tch."
Isval twisted his wrist, sliding his blade along Thalamik's. The black edge aimed for Thalamik's fingers, but Thalamik shifted his grip half a second before the cut landed. His hand moved with practiced ease, letting Isval's sword pass through empty air.
Isval clicked his tongue.
He stepped in again.
One slash.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
His movements were fast and irregular, each strike aiming for a different opening.
Thalamik responded to each one.
He blocked when he needed to block.
Evaded when he needed to evade.
Parried only when the angle demanded it.
Every movement was efficient, quiet, and annoyingly calm.
CLANG!
Isval's blade struck again.
Thalamik caught it.
CLANG!
Another.
Thalamik turned it aside.
CLANG!
A third slash curved toward his neck.
Thalamik leaned back just enough for the blade to pass by his skin.
A shallow cut opened across his hair.
Blood trailed down.
Thalamik touched it with his thumb, then looked at the red stain.
"When Blastar's edge is powered by magical energy, it acts as a blade. It can also increase its own size when given enough magical energy," he said quietly.
Isval's eyes narrowed. "So you figured that out too."
"I told you. I trained."
"Then fight like it."
Isval lunged again.
This time, the black sword in his hand released a delayed magical arc. The first slash came from above. Thalamik blocked it. The second, left behind by the blade's path, curved toward his side.
Thalamik stepped forward instead of back.
The delayed slash cut only the back of his black coat.
Isval's eyes widened.
Thalamik's shoulder bumped into him.
Not an attack.
Just a small collision.
Yet Isval was pushed back two steps.
Thalamik did not follow.
He only stared.
That irritated Isval more than a counterattack would have.
"What is with that face?" Isval asked.
Thalamik lowered Blastar slightly.
"What face?"
"That one. Like you're looking at something pitiful."
Thalamik's expression did not change.
But his eyes did.
For a moment, he was no longer seeing Isval in the colosseum.
He remembered a senior with a sharp tongue and pride that never seemed to break.
He remembered Isval standing among Cobalt, Istar, Oryba, and Thierus.
Not close enough to be called a friend.
Not distant enough to be a stranger.
A rival.
A nuisance.
A person whose arrogance had always annoyed him.
A person who, somehow, had always been there.
The Academy.
Raum.
The Hero Candidates.
The times Isval mocked him.
The times he bullied Isval back.
The times Isval challenged him.
Thalamik's grip tightened.
How far have we gone?
That thought passed through his mind before he could stop it.
So many people had died.
Now only Isval remained, and even Isval looked different. But beneath all of that, Thalamik could still see the person he had known.
Not a good friend.
Never that.
But someone he had shared battlefields with.
Someone who should not have ended up here.
"...I don't want this," Thalamik said.
Isval froze.
"What?"
"I don't want to kill you."
The air between them changed.
Momoka, watching from behind, felt her chest tighten.
Linon, barely conscious near the edge of the arena, opened her eyes slightly.
Thalamik lifted Blastar again, but his stance carried no killing intent.
"I have killed too many already," Thalamik continued. "Istar. Oryba. Cobalt. Thierus. Everyone keeps vanishing in front of me."
His voice lowered.
"And now you."
Isval stared at him.
Slowly, his smile disappeared.
"Don't."
Thalamik did not stop.
"We were never friends. I know that. You annoyed me every chance you got. You looked down on me. I looked down on you. We argued more than we agreed."
He looked directly at Isval.
"But I know you. At least enough to feel sad that this is where we are."
Isval's fingers tightened around Blastar.
"Stop talking, Kaiser."
"You don't have to do this, Isval."
Something snapped.
Isval's magical energy exploded outward.
"I DON'T WANT YOUR STUPID PITY, THALAMIK!"
The colosseum shook.
Thalamik's eyes widened slightly.
Isval raised Blastar with both hands, his expression twisted with fury.
"You think you get to stand there and pity me? You? After everything? After walking over corpses just like I did? After surviving because others kept throwing their hopes at you? I even killed agents of Zuatha just to get here."
His voice cracked, but his mana only grew denser.
"Don't you dare look at me like you're already mourning me."
Blastar's two blue gems ignited.
Isval began to chant. "O' Great Sword of Darkness." The air darkened. Blue mana gathered around Isval's sword, sinking into the blade like blood into soil.
Thalamik's expression changed.
He had seen this before.
Oryba.
That same sudden rise in pressure.
That same reckless surrender to power.
That same feeling of someone forcing their own soul into the mouth of the sword.
"Hear my determination."
Black tendrils erupted from the sword.
They moved too fast for even Thalamik to interrupt.
SPURT!
One tendril pierced Isval's shoulder. Then another pierced his abdomen. Then another pierced his thigh. Then his arm. Then his chest.
Blood splattered across the colosseum floor.
"Is—va—l!" Linon screamed.
Isval gritted his teeth, refusing to fall. The tendrils did not attack him like an enemy. They burrowed into him like roots claiming the earth. His aura began to change.
The wild, unstable magical energy surrounding him collapsed inward. The excess sparks vanished. The chaotic pressure condensed into something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous.
Thalamik's eyes narrowed.
This was something he knew well.
This was determination.
Isval's entire body shook as the tendrils continued piercing through him. His blood ran down the black cords. His breathing became ragged, but his eyes never left Thalamik.
The colosseum floor cracked beneath his feet.
A dark aura rose behind him like a cloak.
The blue gems of his Blastar burned brighter.
Slowly, Isval's body became larger than it already was. He grew a pair of horns alongside two fangs like those of a vampire. His arms turned black, stripped of clothing. Only his blackened skin and clawed hands remained. From his back, something grew like a backpack connected to his body. From it, hundreds of tendrils erupted as if they were controlled by him.
"GHAHAHAHAHA," Isval laughed, blood dripping from his mouth.
Thalamik slowly raised his own Blastar.
"I will KILL you, Thalamik."
Then Isval lowered his stance, Blastar held on his shoulder like a berserker ready to attack blindly. Then the tendrils covered his eyes, replacing them with a visor-like armor.
"I will kill you, once and for all."
For the first time since the duel began, Thalamik felt the weight of Isval's determination press against his own. To think another person has risen to the ranks of determination as well as his.