Join our separate discord server now: The Imperial Of BL
105
The being before him was more fitting to be called a specter than a human, more a monster than a specter.
Rohan thought of Maisen, who would be sprawled in some corner of the village. Did those officials in the Salvation Church, who had so loudly proclaimed themselves ‘heroes’, even know they had such horrifying monstrous forms?
No, they certainly didn’t know. If they had known, they would have fled the village long ago.
This was human instinct. When witnessing something terrible, humans feel disgust, express discomfort, and when it reaches its peak, they become paralyzed with fear.
<Five to the right rear, three above that.>
For more efficient movement and conservation of energy, Rohan completely withdrew all the magical power he had spread around him.
It had been a measure to detect and respond to the slightest movement of everything approaching, but there was no hesitation in his action of drawing back his magic.
He had someone else to be his eyes.
Rohan moved immediately upon hearing Arpel’s words. Magical power gathered at his toes, pushing off the ground. His body, leaping high to the upper left, cleanly deflected the tentacle striking from above. Rather than completely severing it, he struck it with the flat of his blade, altering its path in mid-air—a truly elegant movement.
“Phew…”
A sigh escaped his lips right after he lightly landed on the ground. After continuously using magical power and moving his body intensely for a considerable time, he was starting to feel fatigued.
To be precise, it wasn’t his body that was tired, but his mind. Rohan quickly sliced through a bundle of tentacles piercing towards his side at a terrifying speed and moved again. He cut, and cut again. But no matter how much he cut, the tentacles kept regenerating endlessly.
As the situation repeated itself without any progress, even Rohan couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.
‘There’s no way its power is infinite…’
It couldn’t possibly regenerate at such a rapid pace indefinitely. Moreover, didn’t it contain the power of a specter inside?
So it was clear that the main body, the one floating in the sky freely moving the tentacles, was supplying the energy for regeneration. The problem was that he couldn’t figure out how it was using power that seemed nearly infinite.
Even as dozens of tentacles rained down attacks without giving him a moment’s rest, his questions only multiplied. Until his sword briefly trembled with a low hum.
<Rohan. Do you see the slightly thicker part on the right leg?>
Arpel, who had been silent except for informing about the direction and number of incoming tentacles, spoke up for the first time about something else. Reflexively turning his gaze to the area Arpel mentioned, Rohan furrowed his brow.
He called it a ‘leg’ for lack of a better word, but it was so grotesque that it could hardly be called a human leg. Hundreds of writhing tentacles were woven together to form a large pillar-like structure, replacing where the leg should be and supporting the body of the official suspended in the air.
“Should I cut there?”
<Yes. More precisely, further inside.>
“I’ll give it a try.”
Not many words were exchanged. As if understanding what Arpel meant, Rohan chose to steady his breath without asking further questions. His sword, now in a ready stance, glowed sharply as it split in one stroke the mass of tentacles pouring down from above. At the same time, his movements intensified.
The pitch-black blade, wrapped in divine power, mercilessly tore apart the approaching tentacles. He nimbly dodged the relentless attacks, but it was nearly impossible to avoid all of them without a single scratch.
Pssst— With a faint noise, a thin line appeared on Rohan’s cheek. It was just a small wound from narrowly avoiding a tentacle aiming for his head, but it was enough to fuel Arpel’s anxiety.
‘I should do something too…’
I need to help.
This unspoken thought kept circling in his subconscious.
Before first meeting Rohan and taking him to the temple, he had been a protector, and after arriving at the temple, he had been an educator teaching him swordsmanship.
Finally becoming a lifelong companion and contractor, he could do almost nothing in the current situation. Unlike in the past when he could protect and teach him, now that he had become a sword, he could do nothing but provide power, which made his heart ache.
The only thing he could do was to occasionally recover Rohan’s body using the innate magical power. Even that was so minimal that it wasn’t clear if it was helping. Even now, he could only watch as the injuries kept increasing.
If it was going to be like this, wouldn’t it have been better not to make the contract?
As such thoughts, born from the anxiety gnawing at his mind, surfaced—
Rohan, who had been moving non-stop, had somehow reached the spot Arpel had mentioned.
Magic and divine power mixed together, manifesting on the blade. A fierce energy that seemed like it would tear apart everything around if let loose for even a moment swirled like a typhoon around the sword.
Before the surrounding tentacles could even react, Rohan’s body shot up at a dazzling speed. The sword swung in its wake drew a large crescent, and the magical power that had been intensely swirling around the blade let out a heavy groan, pulverizing everything it touched.
And then.
Kaaang—!
The sword strike, which had been sweeping fiercely as if to bisect everything, stopped with a sharp noise. There was something beyond it obstructing the sword’s path.
The immense power that had been spreading in all directions subsided as if it were a lie. More precisely, it didn’t subside, but converged at a single point. As if trying to shatter whatever was caught at the tip of the sword.
Crack. Eventually, a sound of something breaking rang out. Immediately after, the sword that had been blocked as if hitting something began to thrust forward at a fierce speed.
Finally, when hundreds of tentacles were completely severed and the dark wave leaking from the sword dyed the world—
<Rohan, behind you!>
Dozens of tentacle strands plunged down behind Rohan, whose face had brightened considerably. Thanks to the sensation of something fiercely cutting through the air and approaching, and Arpel’s shout, Rohan immediately realized that an attack was coming from behind and swung his sword while turning his body halfway.
The smoothly advancing sword cleanly sliced through the tentacles. To Arpel, that moment felt excruciatingly slow.
The hundreds of tentacles that had shown no signs of regenerating just moments ago began to writhe as soon as Rohan turned his body. Their surface boiled, new tentacles grew as if by magic, and these numerous strands targeted Rohan.
“…Ah.”
Soon, a short gasp escaped his lips. He reacted belatedly after noticing the hostility directed at him, but instinctively realized:
It was impossible to completely avoid those.
Arpel was also aware of this fact. He had seen Rohan’s sword countless times and prided himself on knowing his skills better than anyone else. Conversely, this also meant that he was clearly aware of his limitations.
Although he had barely managed to turn his body, the tentacles had long since approached right in front of him. Even if he swung the sword he was lowering as quickly as possible, there was no way to avoid the attack.
‘…Like this.’
Am I supposed to just watch him get hurt?
Without being able to do anything, just staying still?
Once, more precisely before making the contract, Rohan had talked about it. He wanted to become stronger than anyone else, make a contract, and… protect his loved ones with all his might.
The voice whispering secrets in a small tone, the face that had turned bright red as if embarrassed, was still vivid in his memory.
But the same was true for Arpel. How could he not be pleased with the affection whispered by this child who spoke such beautiful words, Rohan who had grown up no different from when he was young? So he had wished. To stay by his side until the end of his life, and ultimately to fade away together.
To only see his smiling face, to not get hurt by others, for every moment to be happy. To do that, Arpel thought, he needed to protect him just as he had done so far.
But what about the situation right in front of him? Rohan was about to get hurt, and he couldn’t do anything. For the first time, Arpel learned the emotion called ‘despair’.
‘No.’
But that didn’t directly lead to giving up.
He couldn’t just watch like this. If he couldn’t do anything, he had to do something to reduce the damage Rohan would take. Uncharacteristically desperate, Arpel finally began to gather all his strength to draw on his divine power.
It was an impossible task. Once he had become a sword and handed over the initiative of divine power to Rohan, moreover, while the divine power Rohan had unleashed from the sword’s tip hadn’t yet been fully collected, Arpel shouldn’t be able to move the divine power at will.
He thought this was an unchangeable fact, and because he believed it without doubt, Arpel had never once tried to move the divine power that had already left his hands. However…
‘I have to do it.’
He had to do it. Because if he didn’t, Rohan would get hurt.
In that split second, the pitch-black blade emitted an even darker light. At the same time, the divine power spread around began to show slight reactions.
The force trying to move away and the force pulling it back clashed intensely. As if experiencing a rejection reaction, black electricity crackled in the divine power that was on the verge of scattering. Even faced with such a reaction, Arpel only pushed his ‘will’ into the departing divine power, pushing his internal magical power to its limit.
That he had to protect Rohan. That he needed their power to do so. He moved the power gently, as if soothing the force that was spiking out erratically. And those efforts were not in vain.
The divine power gradually conformed to his will, found its orbit, and finally responded to Arpel’s plea.
Just as Rohan twisted his body, right before the shower of tentacles was about to pierce his side.
Kwagagak!
Shadow spikes that burst out from behind Rohan mercilessly pierced through the tentacles.