# Chapter 52
—
“…Am I still inside the hypnosis?”
“Nope. This is reality, Mr. Necromancer.”
“Then… that guy really fell under hypnosis?”
“Yes. He’s glaring right at us right now.”
At Arthur’s words, Carpe let out a hollow laugh.
“Of all the rotten luck… it just *had* to be him that got caught?”
In that moment, Arthur sprang forward.
At the same time, a streak of light tore through the darkness and was stopped by the blade in Arthur’s hand.
KAAAAANG—!!!
Arthur gritted his teeth against the violent slash of light, his thoughts racing.
*‘A Slash Strike… a long-range technique used by swordsmen who can wield sword aura.’*
One of the exalted ultimate arts, said to be wielded only by swordsmen of the 6th Circle or higher—an art that could even cut through magic.
The fact that he used it meant Tacen had reached the 6th Circle, unlike before.
Arthur deflected the strike and asked,
“When did you reach the 6th Circle, Mister Tacen? You were only 5th Circle last time, weren’t you?”
Carpe, having regained his senses, muttered,
“…Said he had some kind of ‘enlightenment’ after clashing with you and went into closed-door training.”
“After clashing with me?”
“Yeah. Then suddenly reappeared saying he picked up some high-grade Essence pill from who-knows-where…”
Carpe trailed off, cursing.
“Then went back into closed-door training and came out at the 6th Circle. Damn it… and now he’s firing a 6th Circle technique at me!?”
Arthur clicked his tongue.
It was surprising enough that Tacen had obtained a Essence pill spoken of only in legends—but to break through immediately upon consuming it spoke even louder of his monstrous talent.
*‘So Mister Tacen… really wasn’t ordinary after all. More of a monster than I thought.’*
Arthur turned his gaze forward.
In the shadows across from him—
“….”
“….”
A red shape floated, suspended in the air.
It was obvious at a glance what it was.
An eye.
Arthur and Carpe swallowed dryly.
“…Looks like he’s completely gone.”
“Yeah. Mind’s broken.”
And with that, the darkness split open.
Neither Arthur nor Carpe took their eyes off it as they moved away.
BOOM—!
With a ground-shattering crash, something inhuman landed where they had just been.
A monster descended from the bloodline of trolls that had vanished a thousand years ago.
It was Tacen.
Whish—!
Arthur dodged his swing, then instantly teleported to his back and slashed for the neck.
But a sudden barrier deflected the meteoric iron blade.
“Huh?”
“….”
“He’s covering himself in mana like armor?”
Arthur frowned, staring at him.
The monster looked far more grotesque than before, his eyes full of madness, lips curled in a grin.
BOOM!
With a thunderous crash, Arthur was sent flying.
“You lunatic!! Are you okay!?” Carpe shouted.
Arthur twisted midair and landed smoothly, almost artfully.
Carpe couldn’t help blurting out in awe, but Arthur just clicked his tongue.
*‘A glancing blow and my shoulder’s dislocated… and that shield, my pistol won’t scratch it.’*
Tacen’s level was higher than expected.
High enough that even most knights would be helpless.
Carpe scrambled over, shouting advice.
“How can a human beat a monster!? Don’t fight with brute strength!”
“I’d rather not either, but do I have another choice?”
“Go for his head! He’s under hypnosis because mana was injected into his brain! If you sever the head, he’ll return to normal!”
Arthur widened his eyes.
“Oh… Necromancer, this is the first time you’ve actually sounded smart.”
“I’m not Necromancer, I’m Carpe.”
“…Wasn’t that a fake name?”
“Does it matter right now!? Shut up and get up. I’ll back you up.”
Arthur stood, and Carpe began chanting.
Waves of mana turned into spells, wrapping Arthur’s body.
Carpe shouted,
\[Over Power.]
\[Haste.]
\[Magic Guard.]
…
Blinding light burst forth, enveloping Arthur.
His body felt astonishingly light.
“These are support spells, Carpe?”
“That’s right. They’ll last about ten minutes. Any longer, I won’t be able to maintain them. You’ll have to finish it before then.”
Arthur’s eyes gleamed.
“So, I hold him off while you prepare to target Tacen’s neck?”
“Exactly. I’ll prepare a big one, so just endure somehow.”
Arthur nodded, turning back toward Tacen.
*‘With this… maybe I can manage.’*
The boost felt even greater than Frakil’s bloodline ability.
And with the troll’s power, the spirits, and Julie’s strength—he might not win, but stalling was possible.
“…Didn’t expect things to turn out like this. Well then.”
Forcing his dislocated shoulder back into place with a grin, Arthur muttered,
“Let’s settle our unfinished match, Mister Tacen.”
—
—
Arthur twirled his sword into position.
Tacen, too, lowered the greatsword from his shoulder.
Measuring the distance, Arthur thought grimly,
*‘No opening. If I rush in, I’ll be cut down instantly.’*
Which could only mean one thing—
Even hypnotized, Tacen’s presence and killing aura were entirely real.
That meant his swordsmanship was truly this refined.
*‘If he were in his right mind, I wouldn’t even dare approach. Guess I should be thankful he’s not.’*
Arthur tightened his grip on the meteoric iron blade.
“…!”
Tacen vanished before his eyes.
The massive figure seemed to evaporate like a mirage.
Arthur swung reflexively—
BOOM—!
Tacen came crashing down from above, greatsword slamming down.
Arthur activated Frakil’s bloodline power.
Creeeak—!
With a strange sound, his body disappeared from beneath the strike, teleporting away.
But Tacen was unfazed.
Even hypnotized, his battle instincts remained sharp.
He followed those instincts and swung wide.
BOOM—!
Steel clashed against steel as Arthur met his strike.
Their eyes locked.
Then, as if agreeing silently, both shoved back at once—
And the true duel began.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! …BOOM—!
Blow after blow. Parry, block, thrust, evade.
The sequence flowed seamlessly, like water—
But every clash was laced with killing intent.
The ringing of steel was enough to tear eardrums, every misstep meant death.
Carpe, glancing up from his spellwork, could only think:
*‘Tacen… well, he’s always been a monster. But that lunatic holding his own against him—what the hell *is* he?’*
Tacen was special even within the Black Cross.
A barbarian warrior from beyond the northern snowfields, who lived for blood and battle.
Even the cult leader had praised him as a swordsman of the century.
*A Swordmaster… perhaps even destined to become the next “Sword Saint.”*
Carpe, who fought Tacen daily, did not deny his skill. He respected it.
His swordsmanship was as extraordinary as his bloodline.
And now, that swordsmanship—was being held at bay by Arthur.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Arthur, with only two Circles.
Tacen, with six.
How could this even be possible?
Carpe had no answer.
It was simply unthinkable.
Then—Tacen swung his blade upward.
BOOM!
Arthur was blasted into a wall, meteoric iron sword shattering in his grip.
His eyes widened.
“…Sword Aura?”
Somehow, Tacen’s blade had become wreathed in sword aura.
Arthur’s face hardened.
*‘So now… this is the real fight.’*
From here on, it wouldn’t last long.
Arthur still couldn’t manifest sword aura.
Which meant he had no means to withstand it.
He reset his grip.
Tacen, sheathed in aura, waited calmly.
That quiet confidence of the strong.
Arthur bowed slightly.
“Shall we begin again, Mister Tacen?”
“……”
Tacen gave no answer.
He simply swung.
Arthur shouted as the strike came down:
*‘Undine, Gnome!’*
The ground beneath Tacen tilted violently, his footing thrown off.
His blade veered off course.
Arthur dashed in, thrusting his sword—
Thok!
Caught.
Tacen’s left hand, armored with mana, had grabbed the meteoric iron sword.
Even Carpe swore at the sight.
“You monster bastard!”
Arthur twisted, spinning on the sword gripped in Tacen’s hand—
And kicked him in the face.
Tacen’s head jerked aside, but he barely flinched.
Arthur hadn’t expected damage anyway.
*‘Undine!’*
\[Yes, Arthur!]
From his free left hand, a whirlpool of water erupted.
A true natural disaster, unlike fabricated magic, crashed into Tacen.
“…!”
Startled, he staggered back, drenched like a drowned rat, shaking his head violently.
Arthur seized the fleeting chance—
Crackle—!
Lightning sparked at his fingertips.
It coursed over his body, engulfing the meteoric iron sword.
Carpe’s eyes widened.
“What…? Magic?”
Arthur steadied his stance.
*‘Only one chance. I can’t miss.’*
He was certain—this one strike, at his utmost, could at least bind the monster for a moment.
Not kill him, but restrain him.
If Tacen were sane, it wouldn’t work. But now… it would.
It wasn’t a guess. It was intuition—Bayern blood’s prophetic instinct.
Arthur lowered his stance.
Knees at 45 degrees, waist at 60.
Blade angled back 30.
He controlled every variable—muscles, tendons, even blood flow.
Focused entirely, he spoke,
“This is the strongest strike I can muster right now. Please fall, Mister Tacen.”
Tacen regained balance, lifting his sword again.
Soaked and furious, his face twisted.
“KROAAAAAH—!!”
Like a true monster, he charged.
Arthur held his breath.
*‘Diagonal from the left. That’s his swing path.’*
He moved.
Crackle—!
Lightning became a single blinding flash.
Carpe’s eyes were seared by the brilliance—
And in that instant, Arthur and Tacen crossed.
“….”
Silence fell.
Thud.
And then—someone collapsed.
Carpe, regaining his senses, muttered unconsciously,
“…Holy… shit.”
—
