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“…I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t save them. Too many bodies had their eyes opened, unable to rest in peace. Then, another set of eyes locked onto me. Some were filled with hope, and some with an indescribable anguish.

“Hero.”

A soldier called out to me. His waist had been cut off, leaving only the upper half of his body hanging limply. I staggered over to the soldier and lifted him up. His words were not slurred. There was no sign of pain in his face, just a look of light in his eyes as if he was waiting for the darkness to come.

“Thank goodness you got here before it was too late.”

The soldier spoke slowly, making sure he didn’t miss a word. The weight of the fading light was so heavy that I couldn’t open my mouth. It wasn’t just one weight, but dozens, hundreds. They piled up on my shoulders and head. I bowed. The soldier’s mouth dropped open.

“Stop him, please, Hero.”

“…I will.”

At the sound of my voice, the light went out of the soldier’s eyes. The bloodied hand holding mine went cold. I carefully set the soldier’s body down and stood up. There were so many bodies to bury and so many more to mourn.

“I’m sorry.”

But there was no time. I ran forward, my feet splashing in puddles of blood. Up ahead, I heard multiple knights shouting in unison. I unsheathe my Holy Sword. I also felt a presence by my left. Null wanted me to use it as well. ‘Be a little patient.’

I accelerated again. Leaving blood, death, and the living behind, I ran. And at the end of it, I saw Arjen and Georg. Georg was swinging his morning star and Arjen was using his sword to parry and attack. Then, the sword found flesh. Georg froze and fell over as his right leg was sliced off. Arjen raised his weapon overhead.

(Cruel bastard…)

Holy Sword muttered indignantly. I wasted no time. Swinging my Holy Sword, I blocked Arjen’s blade. His power pressed against it. He was strong, but I must hold. I drew on the power of the crown and held on.

“….”

I locked eyes with Georg. He was losing consciousness. The amount of blood loss seemed dangerous. The knights rushed in, grabbed Georg, and dragged him away. Arjen was still pressing against my sword.

“At last, you’ve shown up.”

Our eyes met. His black eyes were eerily hollow as if something was lurking deep within it. The possibility of any conversation that had once seemed possible was cut off. It was like something was blocking him off.

“Long time no see, Hero.”

He wants to kill me.

I used my mana to move forward, forcing Arjen to step back. I pushed away Arjen’s sword with mine, and my foot shot up. A heavy sensation touched my toes. I felt flesh tear and bone crack. I jumped into the air, following Arjen’s ascent.

“Haha, you’ve turned into a monster, Hero.”

Arjen laughed loudly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His sword was held loosely, but I knew he would never let go.

“That was a pretty good blow. Probably the best in a long time.”

Arjen’s sword lashed at such a speed that I could barely react.

Sword clashed with sword, Arjen using both hands to strike me as fast as possible. My aura became one with the blade, taking the brunt of the impact. Arjen’s expression twisted as I blocked his sword. I didn’t need to fight him head-on; time was on my side.

“At least you fight smarter than Geor–”

My sword barely missed his ankle, leaving a gash in his calf. Not enough. I immediately locked our swords together, not allowing him the chance to escape. I used my knee to repeatedly pound his torso before pulling him down and slamming him into the ground.

“You’re quite the powerhouse once you lose your temper, huh?”

Metal cried as our swords collided again. Arjen then extended his right foot to kick my knee.

My left hand blocked it. Irritation flashes in Arjen’s eyes. He used the momentum to push his left foot into action, aiming for my head. I raised my sword hand to deflect it.

“Get away from me.”

I pushed both his legs, causing him to fall backward. He used his sword to pivot himself around and get back into a fighting stance. I sized up the distance with my eyes. Arjen’s shoulders tensed, and he stood still, his eyes blazing with maniacal rage and murder. I didn’t mind the murderous intent. I almost liked it.

“You set out to protect the world?”

Arjen spoke. His eyes, gestures, and voice were arrogant.

“Or are you acting as a slave of the sword?”

Arjen’s gaze flicked to the Holy Sword, not even attempting to mask his anger.

“If you wish to save the world, surrender the swor–”

“Arjen.”

I cut off his words. There was no point in listening to him now. I drew on my mana. I ignored the throbbing pain in my heart.

“I’ll capture you and make you tell me everything you saw and learned.”

The one before me is the main character. It wasn’t the Arjen of my world, but the original one. A being who defeated the Meteor.

I need to find out more, even if it means getting blood on my hands.

Arjen raised his sword.

“There is only one way then.”

I brought my sword down. I couldn’t use my full force as doing so would wipe the Capital off the map. Furthermore, Arjen was purposely moving toward the city center. He kept shifting stances and using awkward attacks, so I couldn’t complete a full swing.

“What’s wrong? Forgotten how to use your sword?”

That was the main character. Finding a way to win by any means possible, no matter how dirty, as long as he wins. A body covered in dirt, a smudge or two here and there, doesn’t matter as long as he was still alive.

“Not that I mind.”

Mercenaries. Those who provide results for compensation. Arjen was serious about killing me, and he wasn’t going to bat an eyelash no matter who died in the process. Had I been mistaken to think that things had changed? Were the scenes of the original that impactful?

“It must be hard fighting while protecting something?”

Suddenly, Georg’s expression came back to me. I quickly followed Arjen’s movements. He raised his sword, not bothering to hide his aura either. But he was looking beyond me. The Queen’s castle. Without pausing, Arjen brought his sword down.

His aura collided with a golden wall above me. The recoil washed over me like a wave, and Arjen smirked at me.

“You can swing your sword anywhere and somehow get a block. Isn’t the Holy Sword pampering you too much?”

“Dirty bastard.”

“There’s nothing dirty about war, only winners and losers.”

To fully subdue Arjen, I conserved my strength for a prolonged battle. Get into a rhythm, quicken my heartbeats, and circulate my mana.

“…?”

My mana’s stuck. It wasn’t flowing correctly. I flinch and concentrate harder, but the mana fails to take shape in my heart as if it’s blocked by something. It wasn’t because of pain or the physical abnormality of having a fake heart. Something or someone was holding it back, preventing it from flowing freely.

(Elroy.)

Only then did he hear the calm voice of the Holy Sword.

(Any more than that is dangerous. I can’t guarantee your safety anymore. Your body will collapse. There is no third chance.)

“There will be too many casualties.”

(There will be even more if you fall in this battle.)

The Holy Sword was stubborn. But I must not lose here. Even now, Arjen is swinging his sword from awkward positions, so I had to focus hard. If I miss even once, I don’t know how many people will be sacrificed.

(…What are you doing.)

“Persuading.”

Swords clash, and Arjen and I both bounce back simultaneously. I hesitated and lowered my blade a little. It wasn’t a trap, nor was it a trap. It was really a gap designed to stab me in the neck.

(Elroy!)

“If I can’t convince you with words, I’ll have to resort to force.”

As expected, Arjen didn’t miss the opening. His sword flew for my neck. I relaxed both of my hands, not doing anything. Suspecting a trap, Arjen slowed it down a bit, but he smirked when he saw that I could no longer do anything.

I’m begging you. I’m counting on you.

(You think I’ll listen to you just because you’re so insistent–)

Suddenly, Arjen’s aura was destroyed, and a cracking sound resounded.

He was sent flying back into a building. I exhaled, checking the wings that had sprouted on my back. They burned through my mana, dissipating into a white smoke. Arjen looked at me, bewildered by the counterattack, and I pointed the Holy Sword at him.

“You truly are the sword’s slave.”

He laughed as if it were a pity.