Watching the Dead-End Butcher slowly show signs of defeat — unable to mount any counterattack whatsoever — Geno felt a nagging sense that something was off.
Wasn't this thing a lot weaker than last time?
Even accounting for his own growth, the gap between the Dead-End Butcher's performance now and what he remembered of its capabilities was simply too large.
And more importantly — this thing was supposed to be in the Dead-End Hollow. So what was it doing here in the Crete Hollow? Geno knew full well that Ethereals couldn't travel between Hollows. For something like an Ethereal, that should have been flat-out impossible.
Yet here the Dead-End Butcher was.
He furrowed his brow, but couldn't come up with any explanation that satisfied him. So he shook his head and pushed the stray thoughts aside, turning his focus back to finishing the Dead-End Butcher off once and for all.
The Dead-End Butcher, too, knew its end was near. It abandoned all further deliberation and threw everything it had into its Ether core, hurling itself at Geno in one final, desperate charge.
This was its last pride. Its last shred of dignity. As the undisputed ruler of the Dead-End Hollow, it would die on its feet — not be toyed with and humiliated like a plaything.
The Dead-End Butcher might not have had the faintest concept of what a knight was. But what it was showing in this moment was exactly that — the fearless spirit of a knight facing death without flinching.
And Geno, for his part, was more than willing to honor that final wish.
"In that case — try this."
Geno brought his sword horizontal at his waist, bent his knees slightly into a grounded stance, and settled into the posture of a drawing cut — poised to draw and slash in a single motion.
He wasn't particularly skilled in swordsmanship, truth be told. But in this moment, he wanted to give the Dead-End Butcher a death worth having. Not worn down by Dimensional Slashes — but felled head-on, like a true knight meeting a true knight.
"Dimensional — Draw Slash!"
The sword follows the will. A swordsman's blade is an extension of the arm — an extension of the soul.
In this very moment, something within Geno quietly shifted. The crucible of this battle had finally honed his state of mind to a new edge, and that inner change rippled outward into his technique.
It was no secret that Geno had never been what anyone would call a natural talent. Every ounce of skill he possessed had been built through day after day of practice — nothing gifted, nothing innate.
Even when battle after battle gave back little in return for all that accumulated effort, he never quit.
And now, in this single moment, every technique he had mastered, every grueling hour of hard training — it all paid off.
Having glimpsed the faintest edge of sword intent, Geno moved with the force of a thunderclap.
Like the torrential downpour he had felt that day being chased through the Dead-End Hollow, his strike crackled with the flash-and-crack of lightning.
In an instant, Geno and the Dead-End Butcher exchanged positions — crossing past each other in a single blur.
Then Geno released the weapon in his hand, letting it dissolve back into raw Ether. He reverted to his human form, closed his eyes, and stood still.
He was still savoring the weight of that last strike — the feeling it had carried.
As for the Dead-End Butcher, it was no longer something he needed to think about. The moment he had swung — it was already dead.
Boom.
As if to confirm his thought, the Dead-End Butcher's massive frame — towering as a small building — crashed to the ground, kicking up billowing clouds of dust.
A single clean cleft ran straight through it, splitting the Dead-End Butcher perfectly in two. And at the center, its core — noticeably larger than those of other Ethereals — had been divided cleanly in half as well.
In theory, the moment a core was destroyed, an Ethereal should begin to dissolve. But Geno had moved so fast that even the transformation of Ether itself hadn't been able to keep up with his speed.
The only unfortunate part was that replicating that strike right now would probably be beyond him. Epiphanies couldn't be forced — they came when they came. All he could do was try his best to engrave the feeling of that moment into his memory and his muscle memory alike, preserving it for as long as he could hold onto it.
"Hah. Didn't expect to walk away with something like that."
Having fully digested the meaning of that last strike, Geno let out a slow breath, then finally opened his eyes.
He summoned a new longsword. The blade looked entirely different from what he had been using before.
This one was slimmer and more tapered — the width had gone from seven fingers across down to four. It still technically fell within the category of a broad blade, but for Geno, it was noticeably lighter.
The original width had been calibrated for his Ethereal form, after all. In human form, that bulk was just dead weight.
"For who I am now, this suits me a lot better."
People change. Weapons should keep pace.
He looked at the sword in his hand with a satisfied nod, then dissolved it back into Ether. And then he sat himself down on the ground, clutching his arm, and arranged his face into the expression of someone who had just barely survived a brutal fight.
He'd sensed it — someone was coming.
"Geno! What are you doing here — where's Grace!"
A small figure came sprinting over from not far away. Koleda, hammer and wrench in hand, was frantically scanning the area for any sign of her big sister.
"Grace is still at the pile driver — a swarm of Ethereals had her surrounded. Go help her, quick!"
"What!?"
The moment she heard Grace was surrounded by Ethereals, Koleda's heart lurched into her throat. She spun around and charged off in the direction Geno had pointed — but had only taken two steps when the person she'd been desperately worried about appeared right in front of her eyes.
"Grace! Are you okay!?"
But Grace didn't spare Koleda so much as a glance. She leapt down from the pile driver, breezed straight past her little sister, and made a beeline for Geno.
Koleda froze on the spot, her neck slowly creaking around to follow Grace's trajectory. Watching her sister completely blank her out of existence, the tiny Koleda felt her whole heart go to the dogs.
All that love, wasted on the wrong person.
But family was family. Koleda collected herself, swallowed the indignity, and followed after her anyway.
Grace, meanwhile, had spotted Geno lying on the ground clutching his arm — and her expression changed instantly.
"Geno, are you alright!?"
Seeing that he was hurt, open worry flashed across Grace's face.
"Where's the Dead-End Butcher? Where did it go?"
"The Dead-End Butcher!? What happened!?"
Koleda pushed in close, catching the tail end of Grace's words. She immediately went on alert and demanded answers.
Grace gave a quick rundown of everything that had happened, then helped Geno to his feet and guided him over to the pile driver, letting him ease himself down to rest against it.
"The injuries aren't too bad — nothing serious. But what happened here exactly? And where did the Dead-End Butcher go?"
Geno had just opened his mouth to answer when more voices called out from somewhere nearby.
"Geno! Grace! Are you two alright!?"
Eous came pattering over on his short little legs, with Ben Bigg and Anton close behind.
Well — now everyone was here. Geno was only too happy to let this save him some trouble. Better to explain it once with the whole group than to go through it all over again multiple times.
____
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