Chapter 63: 63 Sixty-two words, and you know how to stand there.

The silver dust from the knife danced in the blackness of the night.

The white blade gleamed as it tried to bite my right shoulder, and the silver of the knife split the sky as if to chase it down.

For me, it was a blow with all my might. The blade of the knife made a sound as it was pressed against the air. For Held Stanley's part, it was probably just a small test.

But if I wanted to strike his blow down, I had to force the knife to drive and join the white blade. There is a difference in weapons, but there is also a huge difference in strength between me and him.

The handle of the knife swayed as if it were creaking.

--A squeak!

The sound of steel joining steel echoes quietly. There's no other sound around. Or maybe I just don't feel it. At least, I couldn't bring myself to look or listen to anything other than this duel.

I let out a small breath and narrowed my eyes.

I can't make the same mistake as before. All of our small swordplay would be wiped out by Heldt. In other words, tactics that take advantage of the knife are unlikely to make any sense.

Normally, the way to do this is to find an opening in the moment when the opponent handles the knife and strike a blow. However, my strikes are not precise or sharp enough to weave between Heldt's swordsmanship.

Even with Kalia's meticulous thrusting techniques, it would be difficult to make my blade shimmer in Heldt's bosom.

And there is one more thing that I was forced to understand during our previous encounter. A silver line ran through the fading darkness of the night. Whatever it is, I have to cut off their time as much as possible.

--Zang!

He swung his arm out to the side and flashed his sword at Heldt's side.

He then took a step forward. At that moment, there was a cutting sound in the sky, as if they were breathing in unison. The next thing I knew, Heldt's white blade was snarling at me, trying to cut through my hand, which had slipped into his pocket.

It was a speed of reaction that I could not comprehend. The moment his fingers and knees showed movement, he was already shimmering with his white blade, ready to cut off my arm.

It felt as if ice had touched my brain. Even though it was only for a moment, my vision was clearer than ever. Twist. I don't care if some part of my body gets overwhelmed. That's all for later. Right now, I'm all about this duel.

The hand slows down and twists rapidly. The arm let out a cry of protest at the forced use, and the muscles in the wrist gave way to a needle-like pain.

Still, it was impossible to completely avoid Heldt's white blade. At the base of his thumb, the flesh gouged out and blood spurted out, mixing with the sand and being swallowed by the wind. His hand was injured as well as his side. My condition is only getting worse.

But strangely, the pain is not so bad. It's as if the capacity in my head doesn't have time to take it.

"Mr. Lugis, could you please lower your sword--

"Don't tell me this doesn't mean something, Held Stanley.

He made a series of sounds as if he were eating the end of Hert's words. There was a slight smile on his cheeks. When Heldt's words stopped, it seemed that he had hit the nail on the head.

Oh, dear. He's the kind of guy who can make you look like a fool. The bottom of my gut is burning. My skin tingled and my senses were strangely heightened.

The rush of emotions that usually scorch my brain with a raging intensity. Today, though they were definitely there, I was taking them in somewhat quietly.

You can't do that. I told you. You're on that side, I'm on this side. And I can't get along with you. It's not your fault, though.

And with that, he ran his two silver swords through the night again.

Yes, how pathetic. This heart-rending hatred, this crazy envy, it's not that Heldt did anything wrong. It's the inadequate me that's the problem. The problem is that I'm not good enough. I can't reach it no matter how hard I try. How selfish can you be? How selfish can I be? How trivial can I be?

But still... Yes, that's true. Yes, but...

If I give in to you, then I'm no different than I was before.

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My teeth clench tightly. I felt my breath heat up as it escaped my esophagus.

My hand reached for the side of my enemy's head. I picture in my eyes the sight of that skull cracking open. The silver drew a semicircle, and with a whoosh, cut Herdt's distance. The flash may not reach, but it is enough to blind the enemy's eyes. Then, as if to hide his trajectory, he thrusts another knife into his neck.

--At that moment, I heard the sound of the Reaper's white fingers touching my skull.

Death. The sight of Heldt's white blade smashing my skull open and gouging out my brain plasma. Definite death lay ahead. This choice was unmistakably death.

The knife that should have touched him in time, and the leg that should have closed the distance, found itself choosing to retreat. He let a cloud of dust rise up around his feet and half-opened his body to get in time again. Heldt did not try to close the gap instantly.

Instinct twisted his will, and the primordial fear of death ate away at his bravery.

His lungs activated as if in agitation, and he gasped for air. Sweat licked my spine and forehead.

His golden eyes, Heldt, shone brightly in the darkness. The same fierceness that I had seen in the previous duel, a fierceness that did not match his gentle face, was peering at me through both eyes.

I'm sorry, Mr. Lugis. To be honest, you're completely out of my league, and yet I'm more interested than disgusted. I sincerely believe that if we had met in different ways, we might have become good friends.

No longer restraining the fierce glint in his eyes, Held holds his double-edged sword at his hip. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but it's a good idea. My lips quivered.

But with a friend. Of all people, you should say that, Held Stanley. If only we had met in different ways, we would have been friends. You have a sincere look on your face. And I know you're not the kind of man who tells jokes. That's why his words were so hollow.

I don't know if it was Heldt or myself who was being sarcastic with the smile that spilled from his cheek.

"No, you won't. Herdt Stanley. That's never going to happen. I see that now.

In a shiver that shook the air, I dared to speak lightly, to let the words float on the wind.

It was partly to buy time, and partly because he really meant it.

If I want to be on par with you, I have to be like this. I've got to be the enemy. Otherwise, I'll just look up to you. All I'll do is crawl down and be miserable.

The journey I had once taken became clear in my eyes.

All I could do was look up at Herdt. I was so overwhelmed by her swordsmanship that I didn't even reach out to her, and I even felt a foolish resignation at my inadequacy. I convinced myself with my tongue that he was unreachable and that it was natural for women to be attracted to him. He was a genius, he had to be.

Oh, now I finally understand. How could I be so stupid?

Despite my gut-wrenching hatred, despite my teeth-shattering envy, I still wanted to be on a par with you, Held Stanley. Your enormous talent, your capacity to be both hero and heroic.

I'm not sure what to make of it.

I'm not sure what to say, but I'm sure you'll understand.

"Yes. I've already let go of my reins. The road only goes on after I've trod you.

Our smiles overlapped fearlessly.

I understand now. There's no way we won't collide here. I don't care if this encounter is caused by God, the devil, or something else.

I'll just stand here of my own free will.

Yes, sir. Then there is only one thing to do. I will follow my belief in justice and the truth and kill you here.

"Very good. That's the only way to do your will on the battlefield. Oh, Helt Stanley. For the sake of my great ambition and the dignity of my soul, I will kill you here.

As if that were a signal.

Silver light and white blade glittered in the fading night, as if they were burning each other's lives.

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