Chapter 222 - Outcome of the Duel
The imperial prince raised his magical sword.
The bludgeoning blade, empowered by a spell akin to gravity magic, should have weighed far beyond that of any ordinary weapon.
Combined with its speed, anything that took the blow would be utterly pulverized—no matter what it was.
Even the strongest personal armor would be meaningless before it.
It might even drain the magical energy of a barrier spell in a single strike. An attack so devastating, it was hard to believe a single person could unleash it.
But high power can sometimes backfire.
"I'm going to crush you! I'm the one who's winning!"
If you want to break me, then let me return the favor.
I barked the words with a feral grin.
Meeting that descending, super-heavy sword was a girl’s iron fist.
Of course, I wasn’t reckless. Striking barehanded would only end in one-sided destruction. This was nothing like my usual approach.
I was fully charged. Timing my dash perfectly, I closed the distance just as the divine blade came crashing down.
The only path forward was a head-on, straight punch.
Aiming directly at the weapon meant to shatter me, I unleashed my full-bodied strike.
And the magic I’d channeled into my outstretched elbow and arm activated.
Following a firm mental image, my right arm transformed—replaced by mineral matter.
Flesh tore away, pushed aside as my arm became something else.
The limb visible beneath my tattered short sleeve shifted from a sickly white to a shimmering, labradorite-like glow.
"AAAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
I screamed, burning every negative emotion into pure fighting spirit.
If I couldn’t use magic outwardly, then I’d use it inward. Simple.
Magic couldn’t interfere with others’ bodies—that was a fundamental limit. But my own body? That was different. As long as I had the resolve.
Alongside the instantaneous transformation of my right arm—flesh bursting away to reveal a rainbow-hued limb—I materialized a second spell.
There was no time to complete it fully, but defense was absolutely necessary. Otherwise, even my durable body wouldn’t survive what came next.
Beneath my skin, I forced my flesh aside and generated shock-absorbing armor within my body.
An advanced alloy with exceptional impact absorption, rebound properties, and heat resistance. The sensation of inorganic matter forming inside me brought near-madness—intense pain and revulsion clawed at my mind.
No, maybe I was already mad. I could feel a smile tugging at my lips.
The forcibly created armor wasn’t particularly strong on its own. But if it worked as I intended, it might just be enough. It was a long shot, a desperate gamble. But I had no other options.
All in all, it wasn’t a trump card or anything. Just a last resort. And I never wanted to do this again.
Contact occurred almost simultaneously with the spell’s activation.
The divine sword—boasting otherworldly weight and speed—collided with the girl’s rainbow-lit fist.
In an instant, I saw the end.
Labradorite-like radiance came from a rare magical mineral. A true Nova Ore, shimmering with iridescent light due to optical interference.
A genuine rare mineral, scarcely found anywhere on the continent. And even fewer knew of its properties.
Its density and hardness ranked among the highest. But above all, when subjected to extreme pressure, it triggered a massive explosion—an event nearly unprecedented outside of my own doing.
The ability to freely wield such a thing was beyond anyone’s expectations. Even the finest equipment—could it withstand this explosion?
Prince, why don’t we enjoy this big blast together?
Since it’s my invitation, you’ll accept it with pleasure, won’t you?
As the divine sword struck my Nova Ore fist, an intense pressure surged into it.
The ultra-dense, ultra-hard mineral shattered—and then.
A massive explosion engulfed us both.
—If I blacked out, it would be over.
I clung to consciousness, even as the near-range blast threatened to wipe my mind clean.
A willpower surpassing mere grit and determination. Just a little longer. A few more seconds, that’s all I needed.
The sheer force of the impact felt like half my body was being torn apart. I couldn’t confirm it, but it wasn’t metaphor or exaggeration—there was no way I was still whole.
One thing was certain: my right arm, transformed into Nova Ore, was completely blown away. I’d guarded my face with my left arm, but that alone was far from sufficient.
The explosion caused by Nova Ore far exceeded ordinary explosives.
Even a standard blast subjected you to devastating pressure waves and vacuum effects—enough to destroy most objects, let alone human bodies. No ordinary person could survive it. And even someone as inhuman as me was in serious trouble.
The moment the explosion hit, I was half-dead. Only my absurd durability made this reckless plan possible. Whether I could stay conscious was a gamble. Objectively, it was a terrible bet. Most people would call it insane, impossible, outright madness.
But I could see only victory.
I had no solid reasoning. No logic. Just a gut feeling—this is all I’ve got, and with this, I can win.
A feeling born from accumulated experience, countless events felt deep in my bones. A gut instinct forged from everything I’d been through. That’s why my instincts were usually right.
I’ll see it through. I’m confident!
Still, surviving this explosion through sheer endurance was impossible. That’s why I’d sought impact absorption and rebound.
The explosion wasn’t just meant to damage the prince—it was to escape the magic-nullifying field. If I could be blown beyond its range by the blast, I could use magic again.
Though it felt like stretched time, in reality, it was over in an instant.
Right after being thrown back, I realized—I could use magic.
I dispelled the foreign objects in my body and, with the relentless will of a revenant clawing its way from hell, generated a super-composite healing potion. Then, my consciousness cut out.
Warm. Soft. It even smelled gentle, somehow. It felt good.
"………mm, mna? Hah!?"
I shouldn’t be resting. I snapped awake and sat up, barely catching something that was slipping off me.
"Onee-sama, are you alright?"
Immediate situational awareness. I was used to this.
Apparently, I’d been leaning against Valeria while unconscious.
"Not much time has passed. We just caught Yukari when she flew in. I thought you were dead."
Everyone stood in a protective wall around me, and Ophelia explained what had happened. She was down to her shirt, having taken off her coat. Ah—so the coat covering me was Ophelia’s.
I looked myself over. Not exactly sexy. My T-shirt was completely burned away in places, torn to shreds by the blast. My underwear was gone—basically naked. Only my combat pants remained, still mostly intact despite the damage. Not bad durability for battle gear, even if they were ragged.
"Thanks. I’ll borrow this for a bit."
The M-65-style coat I put on was Ophelia’s. I slipped it on over bare skin and fastened every button. My boots were intact too.
Thanks to the healing potion I’d used just before passing out, my body was fully restored. I was exhausted, sure, but no longer impaired. Perfect.
"Alright, I’m heading out for a bit."
They looked worried, but seemed stunned that I was already moving. I gently stroked Valeria’s hair and stepped forward. It wasn’t over yet.
At the center of the open space was a small crater.
Surprisingly, the prince stood motionless at its center—buried up to his chest.
But I could tell. He was alive, but barely. He wasn’t standing by his own strength—his armor’s shape just happened to keep him upright. A light breeze might topple him.
Imperial soldiers around the crater hesitated, unsure whether to approach their prince.
With no judge or authority to declare a winner, the outcome rested solely on the participants’ judgment.
By normal standards, I’d been blown an incredible distance and was being tended to by allies—easy to interpret as a loss. And no one else would understand why the explosion happened.
In truth, I’d recovered on my own. But from the outside, it would look like my allies healed me. Now the supposed loser was getting up again, advancing toward the prince. To the imperial soldiers, that probably didn’t sit well.
But I didn’t want interference. Just a little more time to be observed.
As I approached, I first noticed—the gravity field had vanished. Naturally, since the caster was nearly dead, likely unconscious.
Drawing closer, I realized the magic-suppressing artifact had also stopped working. Either the prince’s magic was nearly depleted, the activation conditions were no longer met, or it had simply broken.
I approached the prince with deliberately non-threatening movements.
This was for the soldiers’ sake. No warrior would easily interrupt a conversation between two fighters after a duel had concluded.
I jumped into the crater and stood before the prince. Now I could see clearly.
The armor—the pinnacle of imperial craftsmanship—was intact. The engraved spells still flickered with life. But the internal magical devices were almost entirely destroyed by the impact.
Even the troublesome "shock-absorbing artifact" was nonfunctional. The Nova Ore explosion must have exceeded its designed tolerance, destroying it. That’s how I managed to harm him. The armor and artifacts absorbed enough impact to prevent instant death—but only just. This guy really was lucky.
Hm. As I stood face-to-face with the monstrous armor, a soft breeze blew.
A mere caress of wind made the armor wobble—and then it began to fall toward me.
Fine. I caught it, holding the prince upright, and quietly administered healing potion.
Killing royalty was extremely problematic. But the fact that we both survived—well, that was miraculous enough. The fight was over. No more battles. No more deaths. Even I’d had my fill.
As I pondered what to do with the prince leaning on me, I felt a slight movement.
"Awake?"
Silence, tinged with hesitation.
"...Have I... lost?"
So he was aware. Then say it outright.
"Yes. I won—completely and utterly. And by the way, I’m the one who healed you. You’re welcome."
The result was clear between us: I won, and he acknowledged it. That was enough.
But from the soldiers’ perspective, the outcome was uncertain. I’d been caught by allies, seemingly incapacitated. The prince was down. To them, it probably looked like a draw.
All things considered, this was a convenient resolution.
The two of us knew the truth. My team knew too. What everyone else thought didn’t matter.
As for the prince himself—considering his pride and the Empire’s dignity—he’d probably prefer to call it a draw rather than a defeat. And honestly, that suited me just fine. Less trouble.
"Why did I lose?"
"Why else? Because I’m stronger. There’s no other reason."
It was obvious. Still, I couldn’t claim it was a total domination. So I offered my suggestion.
"It was a good fight, no doubt. To outside eyes, it probably looked like a draw—especially to the soldiers. So let’s just call it that. It’d be easier for me."
"...You ask me to lie about the outcome?"
His voice carried resentment. But I was the victor.
"You lost. Swallow that much."
He glared with clear displeasure. But here, I wouldn’t yield.
A few seconds of silence passed.
"...The defeated obeys the victor. I suppose that is only right. Very well. This duel ends in a draw."
"Publicly, yes. So keep your promise."
The promise—that he would work to dissuade the Empire from pursuing its eastern campaign.
I didn’t know how much influence the Second Prince truly held, but there were surely factions within the Empire opposed to reckless expansion. If they backed him, even a slim chance of success might emerge. I found myself thinking—maybe he wasn’t so bad, being this reasonable.
Silence fell again. After a moment, the prince finally stood on his own. I looked him over once more.
The Legisamo Cartel, the force behind the chaos. The Empire pulling the strings. And now, its prince. From the Kingdom of Brenark’s perspective, he was one of the enemy’s top leaders—unforgivable.
But I held no personal grudge. If anything, I felt refreshed. Such a fight was rare. A moment where I’d given my all.
Even with supreme equipment and rare magical aptitude, that was part of his strength. As an individual, he was among the continent’s greatest fighters.
Impressive, sure. But if we fought again, I’d win. Now that my tricks were known, I could win even more easily. I could beat him one-on-one. With my comrades’ help, victory would be effortless. That was the power of the Kikyo Society.
As I entertained such bold thoughts, the prince seemed to notice—or perhaps gave up—and smiled faintly.
"...You are a woman beyond my ability to control. Surely blessed by something divine."
"Huh?"
What did he mean, blessed? I didn’t like that.
One last thing to say.
"You seem to have deep faith in gods or whatever. But I don’t. I don’t believe my strength came from anyone’s gift or divine blessing."
I shot back sharply at his flippant remark.
"Do you think I’m special? That I was born with unfair talent, taking shortcuts? Maybe I do have talent. But I never rested on it. I trained it, honed it, forged myself into who I am now. Do you think it was easy?"
I possessed many talents. I didn’t deny that. But to think my strength came without effort? That offended me.
Every day’s training. Every life-or-death crisis I’d overcome. That’s what made me. The confidence. The pride of having become strong.
My power wasn’t handed to me. Without overcoming hardship and refining myself, I could never have reached this point.
"...No. A strength surpassing even the favored of the gods—it cannot be simple. I will remember that others like you may exist."
"Good. Remember this world isn’t one where everything goes your way. By the way—what’s your name again? Re, Regi—uh, not lemonade—what was it?"
"...Leonor. Do not forget."
A formidable foe. I’d remember his name. But he was still an enemy. I wouldn’t grow familiar.
If we met again, it would be on a battlefield.
And next time, I’d crush him without hesitation.