Chapter 58: Clash of Blade and Hammer ( 4 )

The gray walls of the cliff rushed past in a blur before the darkness gradually swallowed the sunlight above. The world narrowed into darkness, with little sunlight above, barely enough to see. What’s left is the echo of my own footsteps.

I barely managed to survive after jumping down. After using my rapier for Shepherd's Leap a few dozen times, it had finally broken. I’m down to the last spell, probably enough to telekinetically move my body. Timmy and the caterpillars were preparing the spell, so I can’t rely on them.

Here, I could smell something. Rust. A lot of rust. The scent was so thick and heavy you might as well consider it the only smell here. As I turned to check where the scent was emitting from, I saw things that I could describe as hell.

An armored skeleton. And another, and then another. Some stabbed, and others were stabbed with spears still embedded in them. They stretched endlessly across the valley floor. Moss had begun claiming what centuries had left behind.

Entire piles of bodies rested where they had landed after tumbling from the cliff above, crushed and tangled together so tightly that individual soldiers could no longer be distinguished. Despite having claimed so many victims, not a single person had tried to retrieve their bones.

This wasn’t the bottom of just any cliff; it was a graveyard, forgotten by time.

“In the past, this cliff had embraced thousands of brave men. Today, it shall embrace two more.”

I don’t know how long it has been. Pain had subsided a long time ago. I don’t know whether everyone is safe or not. Considering I don’t have any healing spells powerful enough to save a lost limb and an eye, death was probably my ending.

Swords, spears, and soldiers piled up and were forgotten by even history itself. This place, filled with soldiers from different kingdoms and eras, was going to be my graveyard. And when I die, I too shall be forgotten just as they did. I inevitably muttered my honest feelings.

“Buried and forgotten along with the wars that had been waged. Truly befitting of War God’s graveyard.”

“I think so as well.”

I stared at the person who replied. There in the open area was a young man with black hair sitting on top of the tallest pile of bones. He had arrived long before me, sitting there and waiting patiently. Kajakut leaned beside him, its black blade planted firmly into the earth.

His armor broken, his right ankle lost somewhere along the way, and his wounds far severer than what a normal man could endure. And yet, despite all that, Aleksander was smiling. He sat there confidently. Arrogantly, even, as he said words that sounded ridiculous to my ears.

“It seems like you won’t make it out alive this time.”

“Don’t you think that applies to you as well?”

“No, a hero can win. Heroes are made that way. You failed to finish me off before we got down here. With how you landed down here instead of barraging me with mana, along with your blood starting to flow out, you must have run out of mana.”

“…”

“I will win. I’ll win against you. Then, I’ll bring your severed head to the Adventurer’s Guild. Then, I’ll defeat the Calamitous Witch and put my name down in history as the greatest swordsman who ever lived. Then North God Kalman will come to mean none other than Alexander III. Then everyone will think of me as the strongest in all of history.”

“…”

I feel like I had just missed a few contexts in the middle. But in my current state, my blood loss is already giving me enough of a headache. I have to finish him off before he does. But just in case…

"Gutsy.”

…

Aleksander Ryback’s POV

…

“What?”

Thought Alec as he stared blankly at his opponent. The beast known as War God had lost his right arm as well as his left eye. The left side of his hair was burned off, and he was barely able to stand straight.

“Do you think you're immortal or something?"

What is this guy on about? Alec pondered. Within the War God's right eye was no trace of fear or hesitation. It was calm. Way too calm for a person who’s about to die. Or does he have a way to survive?

"Well, considering that you have an immortal demon grandmother, you might actually revive after death."

"Huh?"

… I’m not, though? Does he really believe that? Could I take advantage of this to bluff it out? But if he really thought of me as such, then why would he jump down?

"Not that it'll matter. You see, there's one thing common with immortal demons."

The War God showed a very creepy smile. One so eerie that made Aleksander feel frightened. It’s not like Alec was helpless; he already had a plan to win. But why does that smile rattle him so much?

"No matter how they try, they always revive at the same spot where they died.”

Said the boy, licking the blood from his blade as caterpillars crawled out of the darkness from nowhere. Alex had taken countless hits from these creatures, so he knew of their existence as well as the fact they could use magic—

“…!?”

And then it hit him. Not once had the boy before him use healing magic. Can he not use it? But considering how varied the spells the War God had been casting, it’s unlikely. What if? What if it’s not that he couldn’t, but he held back so that Alec would lower his guard?

The entire time, his enemy was wounded, but he had barely bled. However, right now, his enemy was starting to bleed. Alec had figured out the problem. Why his opponent hadn’t started healing, as well as why he was so delirious.

Alec saw the man before him in a new light. A man far younger than himself, yet in terms of skill or strategy, the boy did not lack them. A hot-blooded yet cold and calculative mind, with both resolve and guts to bring Alec down.

The War God lost his right arm while protecting someone; however, not only did he not panic, but he also even used it as an advantage to lower Alec’s guard, whittle his strength, and take his ankle. A fight that should have been one-sided had reached this point.

“So if you really are immortal, you'll just have to be my caterpillars' source of nourishment for as long as you live."

“…”

But his adversary was down to his last leg. That man didn’t have enough mana to recover. That was why he was betting. The War God was betting that Aleksander was an immortal. That way, the War God could suck his mana or whatever it is, recover, and escape.

“…”

But Alec was mortal. If that man killed him, Alec would simply die. Alec had thought of running away, but then what if this was all a ruse? What if War God wanted him to run? What if he ran and War God chose to take his time to recover?

Staring at the one called War God, Alec realized one truth. The man in front of him was a North God swordsman through and through. Whether Alec had been immortal or not, that man would chase him down till the ends of the world and kill him.

The War God had the choice to take this battle over to the next round. And next time, Alec would be on the losing end. Since that was the case, it didn’t really matter whether Alec was immortal or not. To survive, Alec must slay this adversary here and now.