Chapter 10: 8 [Stefania]

I slowly bent down to take the sword by its unassuming scabbard. The sound of metal sliding against leather echoed through the carriage as I slowly unsheathed it, revealing a pure silver blade that glimmered in the light. 

“T-this…” I couldn’t help but let out a surprised gasp when I beheld the beautiful gleaming sword in all its magnificence and splendour. Kaleidoscopic precious gems and ornate gold filigree adorned the hilt and crossguard, whispering of otherworldly battles and triumphs long past. The pommel was shaped like an aureate flame, burning with limitless power and courage. 

But everything else about the sword paled in comparison to the peerless beauty of its blade. It was nothing short of a masterpiece of craftsmanship—the silver was forged to deadly perfection, tapering to a razor-sharp edge that could slice through the thickest armour with ease. Holding the blade at the right angle against the light revealed fine intricate patterns etched along its length; I could sense the incredibly powerful magic imbued within, magic that connected my own consciousness with the sword’s will such that we were together as one. 

Examining the sword closely, I noticed a small emblem engraved near the hilt that immediately drew my attention. It depicted a phoenix in vivid detail, with its wings spread wide and talons fiercely extended as if it was about to take flight. 

It took me a moment to realise what I was looking at—this emblem was an identical match to the legendary symbol of the Hero. It used to be a symbol of pride and hope for Eltshion, but as the demon invasion spread across the land without any meaningful resistance, it gradually lost its reputation and significance in the demoralised hearts of Eltshion’s inhabitants. I also didn’t dare to invoke the symbol in the face of the invincible demons anymore, so I had forgotten its appearance until now. 

I gingerly reached out to touch the emblem, feeling the intricately carved feathers of the sacred bird beneath my fingertips. If this symbol is etched upon this sword, it must mean that this sword has once been wielded by the veritable first Hero of Eltshion. In other words, this sword is none other than the mythical Holy Sword of Eltshion. 

“I…I thought the Holy Sword had been lost for good,” I stammered, my mind turning blank for the longest moment. “H-how is it here?” 

I found the remnants of it on an ancient battlefield in my homeland and restored it to its former glory, Terasia revealed with a proud smile. Do you like my gift? 

“This is…a gift?” I murmured, feeling the whole of the sword in my hand. Its weight and balance was absolutely impeccable, enabling me to wield it with ease and grace. The hilt was also moulded to fit my hand comfortably. It practically felt like an extension of my arm—as if it had been made just for me—and I could feel the immense strength of the sword coursing through my veins just by simply gripping it. 

It’s much better than the pathetic piece of scrap metal you wielded against me last time, isn’t it? 

I shook my head in sheer disbelief as my eyes gazed over the incredible sword. Words couldn’t even begin to describe the amount of things that I wanted to say to her. 

A simple ‘thank you’ will be enough, Lukterasia said with a pleasant giggle. Oh, there’s one more thing I have to mention—the magic in this sword can be used to change your appearance. Why don’t you give it a try? 

Change my appearance? For real?? With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, I activated the sword’s magic and closed my eyes, trying my best to imagine my appearance in my past life. Pale lilac hair trimmed to a length just above the shoulders of a lean and slender body. A pair of ruby red eyes set in a battle-hardened yet slightly nymphish face. 

As my impression of the Hero took shape in my mind, the sword hummed with energy and a gentle warmth gradually spread throughout my whole body. When I finally opened my eyes and looked at the window nearest to me, the reflection of Stefania holding the Holy Sword with a fearless confidence made me gasp. I felt around my once-familiar body with my free hand, not expecting the rush of nostalgia that hit me. 

Lukterasia gave an approving nod at my transformation. You look much better like this, she said, her lips parting into a radiant smile. How do you feel? 

Amazing, I replied back in my head. It was true—I honestly felt that nothing could stand in my way now with the Holy Sword in hand, not even the Demon Lord herself. 

Shall we put that to the test? 

I hesitated for a moment, to which Lukterasia laughed and winked at me. Don’t worry, as long as we remain in here, we can’t hurt or kill each other. This dimension is something like a simulation, to put it simply. See? 

She produced a knife and sliced at her arm before I could even react. But to my surprise, the cut on her arm healed as soon as she lifted the knife. 

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This also applies to you, she explained. Other than the pain of your injuries being registered by your brain, nothing else will happen to you if you get wounded. 

That was all I needed to know. Planting my feet in a wide stance, I swiftly drew my sword back high above my head and brought my arm down in a sweeping arc, rotating my hips and legs at the same time to drive the downward slash of my blade. It split apart the air with a near-silent whoosh, as if the sword was cutting through the very fabric of space itself, and the unstoppable wave of power that followed in its wake burned a shimmering trail of silver as it raced towards Lukterasia with deadly precision.

Lukterasia, however, stayed still and calm—as though she was oblivious of the danger heading straight at her. The force of my slash ripped through the distance separating us in a blink of an eye, and just when I was certain that it was going to strike her right in the heart, it was abruptly deflected up towards the train roof. The fluorescent lights popped, falling down in a shower of sparks and debris as a gaping hole was torn into the ceiling. Her counterattack happened so fast that all I could catch was a flicker of motion from her hand. 

When the dust finally settled, I realised with a start that she was holding a thin black folding fan. A fan which, despite being made out of just paper and bamboo, managed to block my attack without a single scratch. 

You have to be a hundred times faster than that. She held no trace of mockery or malice in her words as she slowly folded her fan; it had become glaringly clear that my magic abilities were outmatched in every way by hers. 

But that doesn’t mean I was going to give up here—for even the Demon Lord herself admitted that her physical strength and stamina could not match up to my own. When it comes to a battle where you cannot harm or kill your opponent, whoever exhausts their energy and power first loses. All I had to do was tire her out until an opportunity to end our duel in one concluding strike presented itself. 

Unfortunately, that tactic will not work as long as I can replenish my strength with my magic, Luketerasia pointed out with a small smile. Try to think of another strategy, Stefania.

“Thanks for the tip, I guess.” I returned her smile as I assumed my starting stance. “That’s an interesting choice of weapon, by the way.”

Don’t you think that it is as beautiful and elegant as your blade? She slowly raised the folded fan to her face, and with a graceful flick of her wrist, she snapped it open towards me. A sharp whistling sound reached my ears before my eyes caught the faint glint of needles slicing through the air. But unlike her fan, it seemed that the hail of needles was coming straight at me in slow motion, as if the flow of time had suddenly slowed down around me. It wasn’t until I felt the sword humming in my hand that I realised this was its doing.

Without hesitation, I lunged forward in a sudden burst of speed, anticipating the incoming projectiles while swinging my sword in a wide arc in front of me. The clash of metal on metal rang out as my blade collided with the needles and sent them flying harmlessly past me. 

As the needles were deflected, I noticed that Lukterasia was momentarily caught off guard and seized the opportunity to press my advantage. I seamlessly transitioned into an offensive attack, my movements swift and powerful as I launched myself with a powerful thrust against the floor and aimed my sword directly at her. The tip of my blade glinted in the light as it sped towards my target. 

Lukterasia, still recovering from the surprise of my successful deflection, was quick to react. She twirled her fan around with speed and grace as if it was an extension of her arm, using it to direct a powerful burst of magic at me. I had to twist my body at the last moment to dodge her attack, causing my sword to smash into the steel grab pole behind her instead. Sparks flew, and the pole splintered apart from the sheer impact. The resultant shockwave shattered all of the windows and tore the carriage walls apart. 

The next moment, there was a deafening crash as the train roof shuddered and began to collapse on us. We both leapt out of the way just in time, our bodies suspended in the rain together for a single moment before gravity sent us crashing down. I landed awkwardly in the middle of an adjacent track, bumping and tumbling along the trackbed while desperately trying to break my fall with my hands. The sharp edges of the rails and loose stones ripped my clothes and dug painfully into my skin; the rain continued to pelt down on me, adding to my utter disorientation and fear. 

Finally I rolled to a stop onto my back, panting and trembling as I tried to catch my breath. The sound of the train grew fainter and fainter until all I could hear was the rain pouring mercilessly down on me. I closed my eyes and laid there for a moment, trying not to think about the icky feeling of my torn clothes sticking to my skin and my hair plastered to my face. 

A small, faraway scraping noise made me turn my head and glance in the direction where I thought it came from. To my left, I spotted Lukterasia recovering from her fall and shaking the wet gravel out of her hair. Her myriad bruises and bleeding cuts all over her body healed in a blink of my eye. Though her dress had been shredded into pieces, she still looked regal and elegant as ever as she slowly unfurled the folding fan in her hand. 

I mustered my remaining strength and stood up, taking a few unsteady steps over the slippery gravel before looking up at her. Our eyes met, and I managed a grimace of a smile at her.

How nice of you to wait for your opponent to get to her feet, I said in my head while dusting myself off and bracing my sword to my side. 

Of course, she replied leisurely, snapping her fan open with a sharp crack. Because we are just getting started, Stefania.

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