Chapter 27: Without Hesitation

Reading Settings

Translator: Soafp

---

“Don't come! Do what you need to do!”

Right after taking the Demon King's magic aimed at the villagers head-on, the Sword Saint, Galeas, barked orders at his comrades as they tried to rush in.

Though they hesitated for a moment, his companions returned to evacuating the villagers.

At the entrance of the village stood a single, enormous tree.

Even beneath black clouds that blocked out the sunlight, it rose proudly toward the heavens, as if piercing the sky itself.

A great tree that symbolized humanity's resistance against the Demon King.

Perhaps finding it an eyesore, the Demon King had left the safety of his impregnable castle and come here himself to destroy it.

That rumor was why they had come to this village.

And just as the rumors said, the Demon King appeared.

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But…

It came sooner than expected.

The battle with the Demon King began before the evacuation of the non-combatant villagers was complete.

The Demon King had brought a small number of monsters with him.

To protect the villagers, everyone except Galeas continued the evacuation while fending them off.

Standing alone before the Demon King was Galeas himself.

The clash between Sword Saint and Demon King was ferocious.

Judging Galeas a formidable opponent, the Demon King chose a cowardly tactic.

Instead of attacking Galeas, he unleashed powerful magic toward the nearby village—and the great tree.

Throwing himself in front of it to protect both, Galeas took the magic directly.

He could barely remain standing.

He was covered in wounds.

Looking down at him, the Demon King snorted.

“Foolish. That is the weakness of humanity, Sword Saint. The strong are dragged down by the weak and fall to their level. Unable to reign as the strong. Unable to cast aside burdens—that is the weakness of humans.”

“Didn't expect you to be so… chatty,”

Galeas deliberately provoked him.

“What?”

Grinding his teeth, Galeas spat back at the Demon King's words.

“Humans can connect. We can pass on our will! Relying only on yourself and disregarding others—that is your weakness!”

“Then prove it. Prove this strength of will you speak of—with your flickering life!”

Without wiping the sneer from his face, the Demon King stepped closer.

At the very least, he had to buy time for the villagers to escape.

Galeas tightened his grip on his sword, resolved to die—

when suddenly.

“Yes. I'll prove it now—me.”

Out of nowhere, a cool, calm voice cut into the exchange.

There had been no presence at all just a moment ago.

And yet now, she was undeniably there.

When Galeas turned, he saw a lone female swordsman, black hair fluttering.

As she passed by his side, she spoke apologetically.

“Sword Saint, I'm sorry. I wanted to act before you took that magic… but I couldn't choose that timing.
This moment—right now—is the only one without interference.”

Couldn't choose?

Choose what?

The words made no sense to Galeas.

As he struggled to respond, she walked on and stopped a short distance before the Demon King.

Then she turned back toward him.

“Please stay there. I will defeat the Demon King.”

“…I'll help.”

At Galeas's offer, the woman shook her head.

“I want you to watch… no, to bear witness. To my sword—and his. Without being distracted. Please watch properly.”

Her eyes held an unshakable resolve.

Though her tone was calm, the overwhelming, almost sacred presence she gave off left Galeas unable to argue.

He simply nodded.

“You appear suddenly and speak so insolently, girl. Do you truly believe you can defeat me alone?”

The anger packed into the Demon King's words pressed down like a physical force.

At the same time, the aura surrounding him completely changed.

Compared to their earlier fight, this pressure made even the Sword Saint realize—the Demon King hadn't been serious before.

And yet.

“Fufu.”

She laughed softly, utterly unfazed.

The Demon King's fury swelled even further.

“You dare mock me, brat!”

To his roar, she replied as calmly as ever.

Before the Demon King himself, she showed not the slightest tension.

That alone left Galeas in awe.

“Mock you? Fufufu…”

Murmuring that, she smoothly drew the sword at her waist and leveled its tip at the Demon King.

“At last… I can say it.”

“What?”

As the Demon King fixed her with a gaze overflowing with killing intent, she declared—

“O Demon King!”

“What is it, girl?”

“I've already finished preparing countermeasures against you!”

The phrase rang clearly.

It was—his own catchphrase.

And yet somehow, Galeas felt certain.

She wasn't imitating him.

For some reason, he just knew.

A quantified past—this was the great tree's memory.

This very moment was the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity brought forth by that tree.

An enemy she had defeated with great difficulty one year ago.

But now, Nonoa had no intention of losing.

Her skill, “Master of Numbers,” grew stronger the more she fought the same opponent.

By converting the enemy's actions into numbers, she could respond optimally.

She already understood the Demon King's patterns—and how to counter them.

And more than that—

Erius' memories, relived through her.

His thoughts, his days of training.

They were inherited into Nonoa's flesh and blood, sharpening her sword even further.

This was the long-awaited chance to fight alongside Erius.

Not protecting him, not being protected—but truly fighting together.

If Erius had grown stronger, this is what he would do.

If he hadn't offered up his future, this is how he would fight.

Nonoa reproduced it with her own body.

The battle was one-sided.

Naturally so.

Because this was—a fight of two against one.

She seized the initiative, crushing the Demon King's opening moves over and over.

When he tried to throw a punch, she struck the stepping foot.

When he tried to create distance to cast magic, she closed in and broke his focus.

Whenever the Demon King attempted anything at all, Nonoa immediately disrupted and destroyed it.

She allowed him to do nothing.

“Y-you damn brat—!”

Finally, as the battered Demon King brought his hands together at his chest—

Nonoa severed his right wrist.

“That should make self-destruction magic impossible, right?”

“Curse you… curse you… curse youuu!”

And as they fought—

Nonoa no longer even saw the Demon King.

All that filled her mind was Erius.

(Erius, I wanted you to see this. I've become this strong.)

The five years Erius had given her.

More fulfilling than the fifteen years before them combined.

(Thank you, Erius.)

(In these five years you gave me, I learned so many things I never knew before.)

(Joy, sorrow, the happiness of caring for someone, and the pain of losing the one you care for.)

(And above all, the joy of hearing someone's wish—and making it come true.)

(But… I get it now. That's why… maybe I feel a little lonely.)

Nonoa understood.

The true nature of the “future” she had offered up.

If she killed the Demon King here, fate would change drastically.

Which meant—she herself would disappear, cease to exist.

And beyond the altered fate, the two of them would never meet.

Because her skill quantified fate itself, she could predict that changed future to some degree.

It conveyed that future to her as cruel fact.

The tale of four heroes.

Herself, living an ordinary, peaceful life, listening with shining eyes to their legend.

Two people whose paths would never cross.

But even so—

(Even so, we existed in this world! Even if I disappear now, these feelings truly existed here! You did—and I did too!)

That was why—this had to end.

This distorted fate had to be settled.

(Balancing the books is my specialty. After all, I'm Nonoa of “Dragon Fang's Bite,” the final fang—“Accounting.”)

Putting on a brave front in her heart, feeling something run down her cheek, she prepared herself for the end.

(After all… at the very end, I want it to be gratitude for you.)

Nonoa's sword flashed toward the Demon King's neck.

At the very least, she wanted to say goodbye with a smile.

But she couldn't stop what welled up inside—so that wish went unfulfilled.

So at least, within her heart, she wore a bright smile.

(Thank you, Erius… goodbye.)

Without hesitation, she cut through—the Demon King, and her own future.

Leaving behind only a single trail of shimmering light, the female swordsman vanished the instant she struck down the Demon King—just as suddenly as she had appeared.

Watching the scene, what filled Galeas's chest was awe and emotion.

Even to a Sword Saint, it was swordsmanship far beyond his reach.

Overwhelming skill, as if the very principles of the blade had taken form.

Its foundation resembled the swordsmanship he himself had mastered—yet it was unmistakably different.

(Could I ever make that technique my own?)

As one who wielded the sword, the thought crossed his mind—and he quickly dismissed it.

(No… impossible.)

He admitted it honestly.

Galeas's sword was optimized for his own body and abilities—a path toward his personal ideal of strength.

Everything he had gained along the way would only become shackles in trying to master that blade.

To abandon it all and start anew—even a lifetime would not be enough.

But if one were truly blank.

Like writing anew on a blank page—then perhaps it could be done.

And even that near-perfect sword technique, in Galeas's eyes, still had room for refinement.

She had asked him to bear witness.

Then his role would be to elevate that sword to even greater heights and pass it on to the next generation.

With the Demon King gone, that would be his new mission.

And the one to inherit it would be—

“Hey! Galeas!”

As his companion's voice reached him, the pain he had forgotten in his excitement crashed back into his body.

The last bit of stubborn will holding him upright gave way, and he collapsed.

As he fell—he saw the blue sky.

And the great tree, somehow spared from the Demon King's assault.

There was no sense of accomplishment.

Instead—

(Mom… Erius… I've got an incredible souvenir. There's so much I want to tell you.)

With a new sense of purpose in his heart,

Galeas lost consciousness.

Afterward, he spent about ten days recuperating at the village inn—and then set out on his journey home.