The Holy Sword—the legendary sacred artifact bestowed by the Goddess herself upon the Hero, the true Hero's Sword. Even after the Demon King had been subjugated, not a single "Hero" had ever been able to draw it from within the Sanctuary near the Land of Swords.
Rumor held that only a Hero capable of overcoming a catastrophe vast enough to destroy the world could draw this Hero's Sword.
Before becoming the King of Ohaly, the young Anhadī III had once visited the Sanctuary in the Land of Swords as well.
The sword in the stone, not budging in the slightest.
Suspecting his posture was the problem, the young King of War tried several different poses to pull the sword free, but in the end returned empty-handed.
He left behind a single line: "Since I can't obtain it, then I'll go forge one myself."
As the Ohaly Kingdom—the richest in mineral resources in the Central Lands and possessing top-tier smelting techniques—
After climbing to power by trampling over a whole host of his brothers, Anhadī III summoned craftsmen from across the nation, and even Mages, to forge a weapon that belonged to him alone.
One year of discussion,
five years of gathering materials,
ten years of processing and smelting,
plus a fortuitous coincidence—
in the year Anhadī III turned forty, a replica Holy Sword came into being!
From that point on, Anhadī III could not bear to part with this sword, keeping it by his side day and night, until he launched the war that swept across the continent.
Strangely, no one had ever seen him use this "Holy Sword."
Some bards rumored: "Everyone who has seen this sword leave its sheath is already dead";
Some of the generals under his command speculated: "This sword is exceedingly fragile; the King is reluctant to use it.";
But the smiths who had forged the sword for him said: "It is a matter of lacking the qualification—he has yet to encounter an enemy worthy enough to make the sword leave its sheath."
Now, at this very moment, abruptly, without warning—
Anhadī III, who had stayed silent throughout the battle, paid no heed to the ghastly wound across his chest and, as though chanting an incantation, cried out in a resounding voice:
"Facing a catastrophe vast enough to destroy the kingdom!"
The moment his words fell, Nanoda, who had been about to press her advantage, was held apart by an invisible force.
She could not draw near, and her attacks had no effect.
"Holy Power?"
Different from Mana—an existence her body instinctively loathed, yet which her soul found incomparably familiar.
The Scripture hidden away in her bosom faintly seeped out that same power, as if resonating with it.
Nanoda chose to observe the enemy's situation, store up more Mana, and recover her stamina—her earlier battle with old Wilhelm had already drained no small amount of her fighting strength.
At this moment, Anhadī III took the greatsword from his back. Golden specks began to appear on what had been a dull gray blade, and as the specks spread, it seemed a sealed silver edge was beginning to reveal itself!
"The bearer of the sword is a strong one."
It was the second line of the oath.
This time what appeared was Mana—pure white Mana wreathing the blade. The Mana in the atmosphere began to gather, so that this warrior, who originally could not even use Mana, astonishingly erupted with a pillar of Mana—
Were some mediocre Mages to see this pillar of Mana, thicker and larger than their own, their eyes would probably pop right out of their heads in shock.
"This battle will change the course of the times!"
It was not over yet.
The wounds that had been left on Anhadī III's body were also healing at a speed visible to the naked eye!
It was only when Anhadī III had recovered to a state of being "completely unharmed" that the Holy Power blocking Nanoda finally vanished.
However, it seemed this was a situation where she could not rashly attack.
The three lines Anhadī III had spoken seemed all to have been borne out.
Only then could that sword be considered to have fully "left its sheath."
A sharp edge laced with pale gold, a golden hilt set with sky-blue gems, wrapped in layer upon layer of invisible Mana like sword-wind—it looked dazzling, almost unreal.
It really was too alike—that Hero's Sword!
Although the one in Himmel's hand had been a fake, looking utterly unremarkable, its form too had been modeled after the genuine article.
She knew the one before her should likewise be a counterfeit.
Yet the one in Anhadī III's hand surpassed those so-called replicas by far—not merely in form, but in sheer presence.
And the miracle-like phenomena it displayed after the three oaths—to call it a divine weapon would not be an overstatement.
"Even before that Hero, this sword could not be fully unleashed. You may well be the first being ever to witness it in such a form."
Like Nanoda, who was busy observing, Anhadī III unexpectedly did not charge straight in to kill.
Brimming with confidence, he was examining the replica Holy Sword in his hand.
Was it because she was of the Demon Race? Had the Holy Sword, symbol of the Humans' Hero, reacted to her even as a highly realistic fake?
A superhuman warrior, plus this Holy Sword that seemed able to marshal both Holy Power and Mana.
Perhaps, just as last time when dealing with Macht, she would have to consider using that paradox.
If Macht was a gimmick-type monster, then that hard-to-analyze, undefendable Mana-to-Gold magic was a lethal gimmick.
Then this King of War before her, paired with the "Holy Sword," was a pure stat-type monster.
Her own old bones, paired with a young soul, might not necessarily be able to withstand it.
"As I thought—we must both be of a kind."
Anhadī III suddenly uttered words Nanoda had not anticipated.
"Huh?"
Had her opponent's will to fight suddenly vanished?
"Unlike the Hero, who would help a stranger that came seeking aid of their own accord, we both choose to avoid unnecessary requests—and then, in the name of ideals, of great causes—ah, there are too many—all sorts of so-called 'legitimate reasons,' we stir up conflict and wage war."
"What exactly do you mean?"
Keeping an eye on the "Holy Sword" in Anhadī III's hand, Nanoda was somewhat at a loss.
"Because this is all we know how to do. Admit it—we are of the same kind: selfish, destined never to be free of war, destined to realize our ideals through battle!"
"Everyone fears me—fears my power, fears my wars. Why?
Ever since I survived at the age of five and walked out of a jungle teeming with beasts, I have firmly believed that only suffering and hardship can forge a hero.
The wars all along the way are nothing more than trials for everyone, with glory and power waiting at the end—or else eternal rest.
It was precisely because of the Demon King's threat that the Humans could unite as one, and those kings who each clung to their own views could acknowledge the necessity of the Hero's existence.
Later I too became one of those kings. I struck down those who vied for power, those who plotted rebellion, those who violated humanity, pursuing my own kingly path all the while.
And later, my ideal became this: a world with only one king.
A power that bears all suffering, mighty enough to command the entire world! That is the ultimate of the kingly path."
In a string of somewhat unhinged words, Anhadī III, in the calmest of tones, spoke the cruelest of things.
"Whether or not this is the grand excuse for you to start the wars you so love, it has nothing to do with me. I'm not your kind, either. I only want to find out who is behind everything happening now, and then give them a good beating!"
She might have had similar experiences and done similar things, but Nanoda did not consider herself and him to be "the same kind."
The most crucial point: Nanoda did not like "wars" that were meaningless to her.
But she would also not flee from a "war" that had to be faced.
"Didn't you say it yourself—since it's a fight, then cut the nonsense?"
The moment the words fell, a voice came by her ear.
"My apologies—so from now on, it's either you die or I do."
The sword in her sight had vanished.
____
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