Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Synchronization of Darkness.

Two relics of the gloom, identified as the Cloak of Shadows and Gluttony, were beginning to fuse into a single structure.

Dale’s dark artificial limb operated like the complex system of gears connecting both mystical pieces.

Like mechanical components that fit together perfectly, the objects integrated, giving rise to a cooperation that far exceeded their individual capabilities.

This unification and mastery of the dark instruments were primarily due to Dale’s unyielding determination, but the most crucial factor was the existence of an absolute core that held the gears together.

Four circular contours were distributed around Dale’s heart, with ramifications of a most pure black tightly gripping both his vital organ and those rings. This was another of the roots of his shadowy faculty as a sorcerer.

The Book of the Black Goat.

Placing his energies in the most efficient arrangement, Dale looked up.

His old and esteemed weapon, Peacemaker, was rapidly approaching in his direction.

A cavalry sword driven by the vital energy of its wielder. And that attack did not come from just anyone, but from Mikhail Lancaster, a prodigy considered to be the closest individual to the Seven Swords of the Continent.

A mystic who had allowed a melee warrior to completely close the gap between them. No, from the start, the gap that distanced them was small enough to decree the downfall of any average sorcerer.

Clang!

Despite this, the roar of impacting metal shook the air. Whispers of astonishment arose in the surroundings.

Here, within the properties of the Saxon family, no one questioned Dale’s exceptional talents. However, his rival was Mikhail Lancaster, the greatest talent in the entire empire in the art of swordsmanship!

Evading the offensive of a combatant of such a level at such a close distance was implausible.

“The aura…”.

The blades of Gluttony and Peacemaker pressed against each other, and amidst the confrontation, Dale spoke with complete serenity, examining the energy coating Peacemaker’s blade.

It was not that formless manifestation reminiscent of his days in the fight club.

“Now it possesses a hue.”

A weapon enveloped in a crimson aura.

The shade of ruthless aristocracy that characterizes the duchy of Lancaster.

“I thank you, Lord Dale.”

Sustaining the struggle, Mikhail Lancaster flashed a smile.

“That unforgettable fall provided me with an unparalleled lesson.”

“……”

They distanced themselves momentarily only to close the gap immediately. The two blades clashed again, and Dale’s shadowy garment branched into six distinct edges, directed straight at Mikhail Lancaster.

From the dark areas of the projected swords, the Shadow Stalker extended its thorn-bearing filaments.

Slash!

Despite this, Mikhail’s crimson blade traced a spinning movement akin to a whirlwind, containing Dale’s offensive from all directions.

Although he was unable to release the full potential of Peacemaker, Mikhail’s steel naturally deflected Dale’s dark manifestations, giving the impression of not requiring the sword’s mystical virtues.

“He is powerful.”

He did not merely represent a consolidated force in the present, but an emerging figure progressing alongside Dale. Mikhail Lancaster’s skills were unquestionable.

Nevertheless, what caused greater bewilderment in Dale was a different detail.

During their encounters in the fight club, Mikhail’s distinct trait consisted of a malleable energy and an undulating handling of steel that sought unprotected areas, evoking the style of a hidden executioner.

However, at this moment, the Mikhail Lancaster standing before Dale displayed a different nature. He no longer employed a blade without a defined structure, but a knight’s discipline that shone with a crimson glow.

“You have conceived an unprecedented combat method.”

“It was not an easy task.”

He had cast aside the entirety of his previous knowledge in swordsmanship to rebuild his skill from scratch. Expressions like “grinding one’s own bones” fell short of such an effort.

It was equivalent to Dale renouncing his dark blue mysticism to assimilate a completely new element.

“Nonetheless, the results are plain to see.”

Mikhail pointed out, tightening his grip on the hilt of the crimson steel, Peacemaker.

“Under that premise, won’t you show me your own evolution?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“How much the ‘Black Prince’ who managed to best me on that occasion has progressed. The advances you have achieved as the brightest mind of the imperial territory.”

Mikhail’s expressions constituted a direct challenge, to which Dale chose to respond with silence.

The cursed blade Gluttony was an instrument designed to absorb mystical energy. Faced with a warrior who based his power on bodily aura, it was nothing more than a conventional weapon.

However, with the current interconnection of his two relics of the gloom, Mikhail was incapable of foreseeing the resource Dale was preparing to deploy.

And if he did not make use of that resource, achieving victory against an adversary of this caliber would not be something that could be taken for granted.

“He is a rival I will inevitably have to measure myself against in the future.”

And when that moment occurs, it will not be an exhibition match like the one unfolding now.

Therefore, instead of keeping his methods reserved and risking failure, it was preferable to manifest his full potential on this opportunity.

From the extension of darkness covering the surface emerged an unprecedented shadowy entity.

It did not correspond to a stalker.

They were Shadow Knights… warriors of the gloom. And in their hands, they carried the replica of the cursed blade, Malice of Gluttony.

By unifying both dark instruments, Dale transferred the strength and malice of the cursed sword to the entities born from his shadow cloak.

An exact duplicate of the cursed blade.

By endowing each of his dark creations with this duplicate, he summoned in an instant a power comparable to that of death knights.

In addition, the Shadow Stalker had not retreated. It remained crouched beneath the mantle of darkness Dale had deployed, keeping its thorny appendages ready to exploit any oversight by Mikhail.

The marble surface of the Saxon residence was completely covered by this dark mantle, from which warriors of the gloom and stalkers sprouted tirelessly.

In the center stood the Shadow Lord, leading an countless number of dark forces.

“It is likely that my incitement was excessive.”

Contemplating the formidable contingent of the Black Prince, Mikhail reacted by weaving a strategy.

He drove his weapon perpendicularly into the ground, disregarding the dark beings advancing resolutely toward his position.

At first glance, that action evoked an act of submission. However, it was far from being so.

Peacemaker, charged with crimson energy, was beginning to dissolve the stain of darkness surrounding Mikhail’s feet.

Simultaneously, the harmonic radiance safeguarded in Peacemaker began to propagate throughout the area.

The imposition of harmony.

An environment in which no blade possessed the capacity to cause harm and flames lacked the power to calcine bodies.

It did not represent a crude simulation, but the authentic authority of the original object.

Dale’s dark entities, losing the coordination in their movements, passed through Mikhail Lancaster’s silhouette as if they were simple incorporeal projections.

“The mediator of harmony.”

Radiating the virtue of the Peacemaker, Mikhail spoke calmly, settling his fingers onto the hilt of his precious weapon.

“The faculty residing in this steel is, truly, the capacity to establish concord in this reality.”

Dale responded with a gesture of disdain to Mikhail’s assertions.

“Have you perhaps erased from your memory the volume of blood the Mediator of Harmony spilled upon this land?”

“Concord always demands penalties.”

Mikhail continued.

“The paladin from another dimension who wielded this steel instructed me in that reality.”

A paladin from another dimension. For an instant, a chilly sensation ran through Dale’s body.

“… You speak as if that individual from another dimension were an object of devotion.”

“I have gazed upon him with awe since my youth. He represents an unquestionable hero for our nation.”

Mikhail showed a smile, validating the comment.

“And, as you can see, we inhabit the harmonic environment he consolidated.”

“A harmonic environment established by that paladin, you claim?”

“Whoever yearns for harmony must prepare for conflict. At least the paladin understood perfectly the meaning of those words.”

With the flash of concord emanating from Peacemaker behind his back, Mikhail fixed his stance. Dale pursed his lips.

“It seems to me that you value that individual from another dimension too highly.”

“Not at all, the paladin from another dimension was indisputably a defender of his land who sought the tranquility of the imperial territory.”

Mikhail maintained.

“And he demonstrated to me that a harmony devoid of penalties is impossible to conceive.”

Manifesting an immovable determination, exempt from any hesitation in his notions.

“Concord is only established through conflict.”

“At what point did the expression ‘harmony’ come to mean a river of blood?”

“Is it not the reality?”

Mikhail questioned. His confidence temporarily left Dale without a retort.

“Does there exist in this plane a tranquility that can be consolidated without a single drop of blood being shed?”

Involuntarily, Dale evoked the figure of the veteran from the Red Tower, the one who had unleashed his animosity upon him and Sepia during their stay at the imperial city’s institution.

Walter the Sanguinary, a crimson mystic belonging to the sixth circle. Dale kept intact the memory of the madness that guided his thoughts.

──Vital fluids, vital fluids, only vital fluids!

──The gears of this reality only advance through the shedding of vital fluids!

Concord is only established through conflict. What distance lay between this thought and the delirium of that individual? It was totally absurd.

Nonetheless, Dale himself had once mocked King Charles VII of the Kingdom of Britannia using identical arguments.

“Because of that, I made the oath to continue the paladin’s legacy through this steel and consolidate absolute concord.”

“Ah, I understand.”

The executioner of the empire. The exterminator. Surely, Mikhail possessed total clarity regarding how the people had classified the paladin from another dimension at the time. Despite this, not the slightest sign of doubt could be seen on Mikhail’s face.

Only at that moment did I fully assimilate it. The Empire of Fire and Light. The red and white radiance coating Mikhail Lancaster’s sword, Peacemaker, undoubtedly constituted the living nature of “the hues of fire and light.”

This represented the righteousness of the nation, its concept of tranquility, and the genuine essence of the “implacable aristocracy” that the duchy of Lancaster defended with such vehemence.

Faced with the Envoy of the Gloom, the Shadow Lord… stood the Envoy of Fire and Light.

“Not even the celebrated ‘Black Prince’ himself would have the capacity to shatter the precept governing this steel,” Mikhail Lancaster stated, expanding Peacemaker’s influence as if wishing to display it.

The precept of Peacemaker. The influence of harmony. It was no ordinary weapon. It was an edge that surpassed conventional limits, manifesting an influence comparable to high magic, in a manner similar to a great sorcerer imposing his concepts upon reality.

“An influence comparable to magic…?”

In that microsecond, a notion crossed Dale’s thoughts.

“It is an alternative that deserves to be executed.”

And there were no reasons to hesitate. Immersed in the harmonic environment emitted by Peacemaker, Dale advanced with determination.

Within Peacemaker’s exclusion zone, responsible for neutralizing all attempts at hostility, the blade of dark mysticism “Gluttony” arose.

Dale recalled the property that “Gluttony” had revealed to him in the past: an insatiable edge specialized in devouring magic.

The extraordinary influence Peacemaker manifested did not derive from its internal vital energy. In a strict sense, it truly constituted a force identical to magic.

Crash!

Following this, a sound similar to fracturing glass broke the silence of the place.

“How…?!”

—Just as you say, Lord Mikhail —Dale replied, readjusting the position of his hands on the hilt.

“Do you yearn for concord?”

“Under that logic, we must unleash conflict.”