kscans

Chapter 829 - Because You Think of Me, I Am. Because I Wish It, the World Endures. Part Four.

The techniques of [Kesshiki Ittoryu], of which I knew well over thirty, were categorized into sets of ten, with the First through Tenth Strikes, Eleventh through Twentieth, and so on, each having different applications.

The first set, including《Flying Water》, was foundational, versatile, and all-purpose. By using them selectively, one could handle basically any situation. According to their creator, the [Sword Saint]-sama herself, 'the techniques from the Eleventh onward are just half-joking show-off moves.'

But of course, the sword of someone who, like her grandfather, was a true combatant could never be mere pageantry. Regardless of her own words, if faced with a specific situation that deviated from the basics…

Those 'show-off moves' would become nothing less than transcendent acts of violence.

Perhaps because the attending magic swords were frozen solid, or perhaps because my partner had sensed the arrival of reinforcements before I did, the sandstorm that she must have instantly judged to be an obstruction vanished all at once. And, the moment the voice that brought with it an infinite sense of security resounded across the stage—

—a gentle breeze caressed my cheek, and everything in front of me ceased to exist.

The towering ice wall, the massive black lion swallowed by the ice—it was as if an invisible typhoon had swept them away, space and all… Then, the ensuing blast wave and roar violently toyed with my hair.

Endlessly, and again.

"…Haha, as expected."

The Eleventh set of strikes was the Blade of Limited-Situation, Wide-Range Annihilation. Following the Thirteenth Strike, the underwater sword known as《Uminari (Sea Roar)》, the Fifteenth Strike,《Ryōran (Diamond Storm)》, was of the same lineage.

Thus, what manifested was a barrier of sword-storm that drew a rhombus.

Trying to track her form without thought acceleration was beyond reckless. By limiting the trajectory of her continuous, ultra-high-speed Shukuchi—similar to the Seventh Strike,《Nanahoshi (Seven Stars)》—to a simple quadrilateral, she achieved a semi-permanent chain. From her infinitely looping, swift body, she unleashed the Sixth Strike,《Ekō (Layered Light)》, a ranged blade, into the area within the rhombus.

Furthermore, by using a power-preservation method similar to, though incomplete, the final strike《Yuikaze》, the sword-wind that grew in power with each circuit of the perimeter rapidly evolved from a 'gentle breeze' to a 'great storm.'

In a limited situation… a flat, vast field with no obstacles, something one couldn't often hope for, this inexhaustible sword seemed capable of suppressing even a raid boss, no metaphor needed.

…So, with something like that having gone off,

"—, ——, ——————"

It was only natural that even the black mass would let out a distorted scream and halt its advance… So it has vocal cords. Man, that sound, like scratching glass, is harsh—

And so, about ten seconds after the sword-storm began to rage.

"—Haru-kun."

She annihilated the scattered 'fragments,' pulverizing them along with the ice that had captured them. After unleashing a storm of countless, immeasurably powerful blades upon the black mass without mercy,

Just as when I had been fighting it, no clear signs of success like damage effects could be seen. But the monster writhed in an agony that had clearly surpassed mere 'annoyance,' scattering blackness from its body into the void. Paying it no mind,

"I'm sorry. It seems I was quite late…"

…right beside me, the figure of grey—my master—who had transformed from a great storm into a small human form with an unnervingly complete lack of lingering presence, knelt down and looked at me as I lay there.

Embarrassingly enough, I could no longer move a muscle. And so, piling on the shame, I could only quietly accept the small hand that gently caressed my forehead.

"…………Nah. Not at all. I had it totally under control, you know."

When I responded with a joking bit of bravado, Ui-san offered a single smile.

With that, she stood up, a longsword in her hand.

"Please, leave the rest to me."

With those commanding words, she began to walk away, showing her disciple the back of a master who radiated nothing but invincibility.

Well then. I know it's probably too soon to say, but—

"We've won…"

…I doubt anyone could laugh at the whisper that escaped my exhausted lips.

◇◆◇◆◇

"—…So, what exactly is the situation here?"

"Honestly, the way you can instantly take the optimal action with zero understanding is something else…"

Passing through the light of teleportation, he emerged into a ridiculously large space. He had thrown out an immediate follow-up to the crisis his junior was in, but he had no idea what was going on.

Beside him, the [Thread-Weaver] muttered something that could have been praise or a jab in an exhausted voice. The samurai who had arrived late to the stage could only tilt his head.

The floor, the distant walls, and the ceiling were all perfectly flat. In the center of the massive, ostentatiously artificial square was a single, out-of-place object: a laptop PC.

Seeing the artisans who had arrived first gathered around it, he could surmise that it was some kind of key… but his own involvement likely lay elsewhere.

And so, it took him not an instant, but a few seconds to grasp the situation. The [Peerless] warrior, following up on the azure blade he had already sent forth, drew his scarlet blade and asked again.

"Anyway…—should I just start cutting everything up?"

"—That's right. It's an all-you-can-slash, infinite-refill-mandatory buffet. You must be thrilled, you battle maniac."

Then, a cheeky reply came from his second junior.

Not from the relatively more charming little cat with whom he had little interaction, but from his quick-witted friend who had just been plucked from the front lines by her 'thread' and sent tumbling across the ground.

…However, contrary to his sharp tongue,

He must have reached the absolute pinnacle of exhaustion. Seeing his junior's unconcealed, uncharacteristically haggard face, a smile naturally spread across Irori's lips.

And so,

"…………This probably isn't the time for jokes, so just one thing."

"Huh…? H-Hey, I don't need it. I don't want it. Hey, stop, now is not the time for one of your 'you lack training' lectures, get back to the front lines—"

"You held out well. Leave the rest to me."

Throwing some appropriate words of praise at the fool who seemed to think he was nothing but a 'walking sharp-tongued complaint,' Irori rushed to the front lines without needing to be told twice.

There was only one path to take—without hesitation, he turned his back on the great 'guide' and headed for the girl who was single-handedly taking on a pandemonium of demons.

One step,

Two steps,

Three steps,

This was different from the past, when, spurred on by someone else, he had recklessly forced a makeshift solution.

He had grown accustomed to the balance of his stats, expanded his repertoire of suitable skills, and through diligent training, had completely mastered his style. Now, he no longer needed to fear any backlash unless he was going all out.

An extreme focus on STR. A body control technique relying on delicate power application that had mastered the manipulation of 'inner' strength. Each step was a mighty stomp that seemed to shatter the earth, easily closing any distance.

"—…!"

It took but a blink of an eye to reach his destination.

She turned. To the girl (Sora) who had perfectly perceived Irori appearing beside her in a single breath, he offered a prepared smile… and the thousand sand-swords that filled the air parted to make way.

Excellent indeed. A sense for battle that could only be called magnificent. As expected of his partner.

"Hah…!"

Then there was no issue whatsoever with fighting alongside her.

The black mass in the rear was now facing the renowned [Sword Saint], so there was no need for him to worry about it. What he had to do was take the place of his friend, who had likely pushed himself to the limit and exhausted his strength.

"Now—freeze and burn to ashes."

He had only to steel his heart and swing his sword, so as not to be outdone by his friend's partner.

And so, the clashing white frost and crimson moon unleashed sword-ki of azure and scarlet, opposing colors. The conflicting magical powers, however, obeyed the will of the swordsman they acknowledged as their master and intertwined—in the next moment.

"《Hishaku Sōsō (Crimson Dipper, Azure Splendor)》"

A freezing, burning ice-flame erupted, roaring as it illuminated the lightless cavern.