Memory (5)

Unfortunately, my blade did not reach Armel.

Armel leaned back to dodge the blade. He leaned back so hastily that he lost his balance. He half-fell, rolling to the side.

Armel, having gotten back up, looked at me with wide eyes.

"You, you're not a Frondier, are you?"

He seemed more shocked by the fact that his powers did not work on me than by the blade that almost hit him.

I stood silently, but I was sweating cold sweat just the same.

'That was dangerous.'

Though I was acting calm.

As Armel said, I was under a misconception. I thought that if I just kept my distance, Lethe's divine power wouldn't reach me.

And as Armel had said, I half-believed that even if the divine power did reach me, it wouldn't affect me.

Both types of defenses were already in my mind.

Yet.

'I lost consciousness for a moment.'

The fact that Lethe's divine power 'somewhat' worked on me sends shivers down my spine.

Had I, at some point, started to identify myself with Frondier?

I smiled as if everything was as I had anticipated. I'm not sure if it's working well.

"Yeah, right! I thought it was strange! That 'human sloth' couldn't possibly have grown this much! I heard he was a talentless, lazy incompetent who never puts in any effort!"

"Hahaha."

I laughed and took a step forward, holding my short sword.

"Mr. Armel, who would believe such a thing?"

"!"

Armel stiffened his expression and put his hand into his chest. What came out of his chest were a couple of daggers. Or, since they had no handles, should they just be called blades?

I remembered those blades.

'They look just like the blades that shoot out of Senior Quinie's fan.'

Quinie sheathed them in her fan, but does her father fight with them in his hands? Even without a handle, the part you grip is narrower than the blade, processed so it can be easily held without injury.

"It doesn't matter if divine power doesn't work on you. Killing you here is enough."

And then, Armel cracked his neck.

But it wasn't just loosening his muscles. Every time a cracking sound was made, his body visibly grew larger from his neck down to his shoulders, arms, waist, legs, and ankles. His body expanded as much as the bones made noise.

Not lengthening the skeleton, no.

"So, you've been compressing your skeleton until now. Is this your original body size?"

"Yes. It's easier to disguise myself with a smaller stature. Nothing beats it for lying about my age."

It wasn't magic, but his unique technique. Or perhaps a technique learned from Indus.

Having fully loosened up, Armel was already taller than me. At least in stature, he resembled Enfer.

With a swish!

The blades Armel held combined into one with a single gesture of his hand. Interesting weapon, indeed.

Whoosh!

Armel swung his right hand, throwing a blade at me. It wasn't very fast, so I deflected it with my dagger.

In that time, Armel had closed in on me, and in his right hand, which surely just threw a blade, still held another blade.

Clang!

Our blades collided.

"So, he can freely combine the blades or shoot them separately."

It's like shooting playing cards held in hand.

He's doing both throwing and sword fighting at the same time.

Clang! Clang!

Armel and I clashed our blades several times. Truly a master. Aura was already swirling around Armel's blade, as it was around mine too.

"You! What are you really? How long have you been pretending to be a Frondier!"

"Shut up! I am Frondier!"

I hadn't said anything wrong. I am Frondier. The whole world would say so.

Yet, it was also true that I had been pretending to be a Frondier. Two statements that seemed mutually exclusive somehow coexisted.

Clang!

With both swords in my hands, I parried Armel's thrusting attack in one motion. Judging it dangerous, Armel quickly retreated.

Having handled dual swords to some extent, I know that using them clumsily can be more dangerous than wielding a single sword. The left can interfere with the right.

...But even so.

"Mr. Armel."

"What?"

"You're indeed weaker than Senior Quinie."

I was certain.

Armel lacked talent in combat. The idea of throwing and swinging a blade simultaneously was innovative, but he failed to apply it as effectively as the idea deserved.

Above all, I understand well because I am weaker. Using unconventional methods like that indicates weakness. Just as I have scraped together every means to oppose others until now.

"You won't die a peaceful death."

Armel growled.

From his perspective, it was natural to be angry.

'So, what should I do?'

I could have killed him long ago if I wanted to. There was no need to meet like this. It's questionable whether Armel could even block fireworks.

But this is Constel. Moreover, Armel's guilt has not yet been proven. Even if he were guilty, killing him with my own hands would leave a bitter taste.

At least if I could bind his legs to prevent any unnecessary actions, that might suffice.

'...Right.'

Just as Armel fights in a unique way.

Maybe I should draw on a unique technique of my own.

Thud!

Armel charged at me again. Our clashing blades emitted a loud metallic sound.

In truth, the difference in swordsmanship between Armel and me isnt that great. Rather, Armel would be stronger than me in terms of strength, due to his larger physique.

However, Ive faced opponents much stronger than Armel quite often. Not just enemies, but Ive rolled around on the ground countless times while training with Azier.

And most importantly, Armels swordsmanship is rusty. It was obvious that he hadnt been in combat for a long time.

Swish!

Armels blades flew towards me from the left and right. I waited for this moment: the moment when Armel would simultaneously attack with both hands.

I thrust my sword out. At the point where Armels blades intersected, around there.

As I thought, Armel has never experienced this technique. He must have received reports of it, though.

Clang-

My short sword and Armels two blades met without a sound. A dry sound like burning firewood rang out the next moment, and the weapons Armel was holding flew through the air. The overlapping blades scattered in the air.

It was his defeat.