Before Yuder could even react, he was flung backward by a flash of blazing blue aura rushing directly toward himâan arc of sword energy fired not by anyone else, but by Kishiar himself.
ââ!â
Someone screamed. There was no time to look toward Kishiar.
There was only the briefest window for decision. Yuder, though his sword was mid-swing toward Hosanra, didnât stop. He twisted his wrist with all his strength, tearing muscle as he turned the blade and aimed it toward the incoming auraâjust enough to brace with everything he had.
âBOOM!!
A massive shock slammed into his entire body.
...It felt almost like that time long ago, when heâd fallen off a cliff and hit the river below with nothing to break the fall.
That vague memory surfaced unbiddenâit was that much of a jarring impact. Yuder was tossed through the air like a leaf in a storm.
The plan itself had been flawless. From Hosanraâs position, the first thing heâd see upon raising his head would be Kishiarâs brilliant blue aura. Anyone, no matter how strong, would freeze before a true Swordmasterâs full-strength attack.
And even if Hosanra used his ability to dodge, Yuder would be coming from his blind spotâa follow-up he wouldnât be able to react to. On the other hand, if Hosanra sensed Yuder first and tried to counter him, Kishiarâs aura would hit him dead on without any time to evade.
The whole sequence would take less than the blink of an eye.
A perfectly timed pincer strike from front and backâfast, simple, and therefore impossible to defend against. At least, not by someone mad with grief and on the verge of losing control.
And yet, Hosanra had sensed Yuder first from his blind spotâand then used Kishiarâs aura to hurl Yuder away, precisely intercepting him.
It was like a move in a strategy game, where shifting one piece causes your enemies to collide with each other.
Damn it.
Hosanra likely wasnât even experienced in combatâit had to be pure luck. But that luck resulted in Yuder experiencing a full-on clash with Kishiarâs auraâa once-in-a-lifetime event.
The overwhelming power made it impossible to think clearly, but from experience, Yuder knew the next impact would come when he hit the ground. His defense had shattered the moment he took Kishiarâs strike head-on without proper reinforcementâso preparing his body to absorb the fall with instinctive training was the best he could do. He clenched his teeth and braced himself.
But the painful crash heâd expected never came.
His body suddenly slowed in midair, as if something invisible had caught him. Just before he could hit the ground, a man darted in and grabbed him midfall. They rolled across the ground as one.
âGuh, kuh...!â
His whole body scraped against the sleet-drenched earth. The burning pain made him feel like he might pass out.
His vision flickered, but Yuder grit his teeth, forcing himself to lift his head. The man holding him, arms wrapped protectively around the back of his headâ
Of course. It was Kishiar.
One side of his face was covered in blood from scraping along the ground, his skin deathly pale, eyes closed like a corpse. Yuderâs heart dropped in panic.
He scrambled out of Kishiarâs arms and tried to rise.
âCommanââ
He tried to lift his armâbut his body wouldnât move properly. Lowering his gaze, Yuder finally noticed: his sword was gone, and both of his arms felt broken, limp and unresponsive.
Of course. That aura wasnât just any aura. It was from the one who had left a sword scar on par with the legendary founding emperorâthe greatest Swordmaster in a thousand years. Not even in his past life had he faced such force.
Heâd tried to block it, without even proper defense, with just his swordâit was a miracle he was still alive.
His sword, incredibly durable, must have absorbed the worst of itâotherwise heâd have been reduced to pulp.
â...Commander...â
Panting and struggling to speak, Yuder gasped out. In response, Kishiar slowly opened his eyes. As he did, a stream of bright red blood ran from his nose.
Internal wounds were worse than external ones. And nosebleeds were often the first sign.
Yuderâs golden eyes, flickering from exhaustion, darted through Kishiarâs body, trying to assess the damage. His vision was too blurry for a full diagnosis, but instinct told himâKishiar was in bad shape.
ââYuder.â
Just as he was staring silently at Kishiarâs injured core, a small voice reached his ears. It was so faint, barely louder than the shattering hail, but to Yuder, it sounded louder than thunder.
Their eyes metâred into goldâand Kishiar asked,
â...Are you alright? Your condition?â
Thatâs the first thing he asks? In this state?
Yuderâs mind boiled red.
Did he think Yuder looked like he couldnât survive one aura strike? Why the hell hadnât he prioritized his own body and stayed back?
Who the hell is Yuder Aile that heâd do this?!
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
The desire to scream flared â NĐŸvĐ”lŃgÒ»t â (Only on NĐŸvĐ”lŃgÒ»t) inside him. His lips trembled, but no words came.
Because the one person who could most clearly understand why Kishiar had come to save himâ
Was Yuder Aile himself.
And that knowledge was maddening.
Unable to answer, breath ragged, Yuder remained frozen. Kishiarâs lips twitched faintly as if to smileâthen lowered again. He raised a hand and pointed past Yuderâs shoulder.
â...I thought this might happen, so I prepared. But once an aura is fired... I couldnât cancel it completely. Anyway...â
âDonât speak.â
â...Look behind you.â
Yuder forced himself to turn. And there, lying on the ground with one arm torn off, was Hosanra. Still alive, but barely. The hailstorm swirling around him had lost much of its force.
Beyond him, Cavalry members were advancing, forcing their way through the weakened storm.
One arm gone. That could mean only one thing.
Kishiar, after launching the first aura in sync with Yuder, had realized the attack had failedâand launched a second strike. Then, even in his condition, heâd used his ability to catch Yuder and save him.
Now, here they were.
Yuder felt lightheaded.
â...Thatâs as far as my hand could reach. I couldnât finish it cleanly in the end... so the true finish... Iâll have to leave that to you.â
â......â
âCan you do it?â
Yuder lowered his gaze. His mangled arms came into view. Luckily, his tattered uniform sleeves covered most of the damage, hiding it from sight.
And thanks to the magic-infused gloves, his wrists and fingers were still intact. He slowly flexed themâpain arced up his spine like ice, but he could still grip a sword.
That was enough.
If his fingers worked, he could wield his sword.
He had endured worse before. He had always stood back up and pressed forward to achieve his goals.
Why would now be any different?
Yuder didnât speak. He extended his hand. A moment later, his sword flew to him from somewhere. It was covered in dirt, but the blade remained intact. He gripped the familiar hilt.
But before he stood, there was one thing he had to say to Kishiar.
Yuder looked at himâhot and cold all at onceâand said:
âStay right here until I return. If you use your power again... even if youâre the Commander, I wonât forgive you.â
Kishiarâs eyes widened slightly.
After a pause, he closed his mouth, furrowed his brow softly, and exhaled.
A strange smile touched his lipsâtinged with sadness, affection, and, oddly enough, joyâas he nodded slowly.