Chapter 71: Chapter 71 - Battle of Legends ( Part 2)
The wind died down.
Neither Jennie nor Azrakiel moved after their numerous battles.
The valley, ruined by the clash of the two, was now split in half by their battle. Cliff walls replaced the mountains where the forests were neatly separated along straight lines and the river flowing through the Gray Hollow changed its course.
Not from the explosions.
From the skill of the swords.
Azrakiel slowly lowered the tip of his greatsword.
His crimson eyes didn’t leave Jennie.
"...You’ve changed."
Jennie rested Excalibur at her side.
"So have you."
They just watched each other for a few seconds.
Not in search of fear.
In search of habit.
Of breathing.
Of the rhythm.
Of any flaw.
Headmaster Orion squinted from below.
"They’re reading each other."
Lucas frowned.
"They aren’t attacking."
"They already do."
Orion ’s voice was calm.
"This battle isn’t about power anymore."
Azrakiel suddenly smiled.
"A pity."
"The world has forgotten swordsmanship."
Mana of darkness gathered around his feet.
Different from the previous times, this time it didn’t explode in violent rage.
No.
Instead, it calmed completely.
As the dark cloud wrapped the blade like the flowing silk.
Voice of Excalibur echoed in Jennie’s head.
"...Master."
Jennie’s face hardened.
"I know."
"The Abyssal War Style."
The voice of Excalibur sounded almost nostalgic.
"Personal sword art of the Seven Demon Generals."
"It was created only for the death of heroes."
Azrakiel slowly changed his position.
His left leg took half a step back.
Shoulders relaxed.
The huge greatsword suddenly started to seem weightless.
Everyone who watched blinked in surprise.
The posture seemed...
Normal.
Yet all the instincts screamed that it is dangerous.
"The First Form..."
Azrakiel whispered.
"Black Crescent."
And he moved.
There wasn’t a roar.
No explosion.
Just one unbelievably clean slash.
The thin black line ran through the valley.
For a second nothing...
Then the mountain behind Jennie was split in half diagonally.
The top half of it was pushed away with the loud noise.
Jennie was already nowhere.
She was standing beside Azrakiel with her Excalibur cutting toward his throat.
Metal rang.
Azrakiel blocked without turning.
"So fast."
Jennie answered coolly.
"Not fast enough."
Their blades were sliding against each other.
The golden sparks flew in the air like fireflies.
"The Second Form..."
"Abyss Fang."
Azrakiel thrust.
Once.
Instincts of Jennie screamed.
She moved sideways.
The second thrust appeared from behind her back.
The third.
The fourth.
Single thrust became the storm of phantom attacks.
Each of them aimed for the vital point.
Heart.
Throat.
Temple.
Lung.
Jennie’s legs were dancing around the broken stones.
First step.
Second.
Third.
None of the thrusts hit her.
Below, Orion stared with horror.
"...Impossible."
One of the professors next to him swallowed.
"What happened?"
Orion didn’t turn his eyes away.
"The thrust didn’t change."
"...But our eyes just couldn’t follow the transitions."
Cold sweat dripped down his face.
"No academy..."
"No kingdom..."
"...taught such moves."
Jennie took deep breath.
Her heartbeat became steady.
Her body moved before the conscious mind.
She didn’t think.
She just...
Remembered.
The voice of Excalibur was soft.
"Master."
"You are no longer thinking."
Jennie blinked.
"...What?"
"Your body remembers."
"Sword King lives in your movements."
Before she even noticed it, her posture changed.
Her front leg moved inward slightly.
Excalibur lowered to the ground.
Her other hand opened gently.
The eyes of Azrakiel widened.
"...This stance..."
Jennie moved forward.
"The First Form..."
"Dawn Petal."
She slashed.
The slash seemed unbelievable light.
Like a flower floating on the morning breeze.
But the multitude of phantom thrusts disappeared in the moment when her blade crossed it.
Not destroyed.
Redirected.
All the energy harmlessly flew away from her and dissipated in the valley.
Behind Azrakiel, the cliff was split into hundreds of sharp slices before falling like scattered petals.
The Demon General laughed.
"So..."
"It really exists."
Jennie kept moving.
"The Second Form..."
"Flowing Horizon."
Her steps were becoming fluid.
Each slash smoothly turned into another.
She wasn’t meeting the power of Azrakiel.
But every attack glancing off carried the momentum somewhere else.
The greatsword which a few moments ago seemed invincible suddenly couldn’t find its target.
Each redirected attack carved new canyons through the landscape.
The battlefield itself became a silent witness to the style which was forgotten for centuries.
The breathing of Orion stopped.
"I’ve spent forty years learning the sword..."
"...and I’ve never seen anything like this."
Lucas said quietly,
"It’s beautiful."
It wasn’t just fighting.
It seemed to be the dance perfected in the many lifetimes.
The smile of Azrakiel slowly faded.
"I remember now."
His grip tightened.
"The KingHeart Sword Style."
"The sword art which cut the armies..."
"...without wasting a single move."
Mana of darkness poured around his blade again.
"The Third Form."
"Ruin Spiral."
He started spinning.
Not wildly.
Perfectly.
The changes of his center of gravity with the footwork created each slash from the impossible angle.
Jennie’s sleeves were cut.
A strand of silver hair flew away.
A thin line of crimson appeared on her cheek.
She smiled.
"So you’ve improved."
"You noticed."
Jennie breathed deeply.
Wind spirits surrounded Excalibur, laughing softly.
Her body moved on its own will.
"The Third Form..."
"King’s Promise."
She lowered her guard.
Opening.
Azrakiel attacked right away.
As expected.
Jennie raised her sword in a single motion.
The black greatsword moved harmlessly past her shoulder.
And Excalibur responded with the single thrust.
In the same instant...
Azrakiel moved his wrist.
The blades crossed.
Silence fell.
They were standing back to back.
Neither said a word.
A crimson droplet of blood hit the stone.
Then...
A golden one.
Jennie slowly touched the wound on her side.
In the other side of the valley, Azrakiel pressed two fingers to the cut running diagonally across his chest armor.
For the first time in centuries...
Both legends got each other’s blood.
Neither of them didn’t look disappointed.
Instead...
They smiled.
The duel finally was worthy of its name.
For several long heartbeats...
Neither warrior made a move.
The wind gently blew through the wounded valley, taking away crimson drops before they touched the ground. The silence that fell afterwards was heavy with the weight of all the explosions that shook the battlefield.
Azrakiel gently traced the newest wound on his armor.
As he looked at the crimson stain on his finger, his facial features relaxed into almost nostalgic calmness.
"...Five hundred years."
His voice rang clearly across the valley.
"For five hundred years I believed that no blade could ever hurt me again."
He glanced at Jennie.
"And yet..."
"...you stand here."
Jennie kept her composure.
Excalibur softly lay in her hands, its golden blade radiating quiet warmth. The sacred sword seemed to vibrate together with her pulse, celebrating the worthy battle.
"I never came here to prove anything," Jennie replied.
"I only came to protect the ones behind my back."
Azrakiel gave a faint smile.
"Even now..."
"You fight not for yourself but for others."
"The Sword King truly didn’t change."
Far down there, the audience was speechless.
Headmaster Orion carefully closed his eyes, recording every detail of the battle.
Throughout his life he saw many masters.
Kings.
Champions.
Swordsmen ranked Saint.
But none moved like the two warriors down there.
"They don’t simply share their techniques," he whispered.
"They communicate."
One professor was confused.
"Communicate?"
Roland nodded.
"Each stance is a question."
"Each response is an answer."
"This..."
"...this is the language of swordsmanship."
Lucas squeezed his fists in his pockets.
Throughout his life he trained to wield a blade and thought that he knew everything about the strength.
But watching Jennie, he was proven wrong.
Strength wasn’t loud.
Or fast.
It was absolute control.
Each step she took reached exactly the spot it should reach.
Neither too far.
Neither too short.
Even Azrakiel, who with each blow devastated the land with enough power, started matching this precision.
The duel went past winning and losing.
It became an etching of the lesson into the very ground.
High above, black mana started accumulating around Azrakiel once more.
Unlike last time, it didn’t explode wildly.
It gathered in the edge of his greatsword, swallowing the light around the blade.
Jennie observed silently.
She didn’t lift her defenses.
She only adjusted her positioning by a single step.
Excalibur’s gentle voice resounded in her thoughts.
"Master..."
"Your memories return faster now."
Jennie frown.
"They are not memories."
They seem...
"...instinctive."
Excalibur responded in soft tones.
"The body remembers what the mind forgot."
"The Sword King doesn’t look for her style anymore."
"She becomes her style again."
Jennie gripped tightly to the hilt of Excalibur.
A serene smile appeared on her face.
From across the valley, Azrakiel repeated her smile.
Without another word...
Both masters fell into their stances.
The next clash wouldn’t test their technique.
It would test their conviction.
A hush fell over the valley below(so much so, that even the dust in the air stopped mid-fall for what felt like ages as they waited for what would happen next).
The sky above was filled with dark storm clouds that circling the two combatants who stood beneath them- light from the sun shone through the openings in the overcast skies and illuminated the two warriors as if they were immortalized in stone.
No one stood around them would have dreamt of blinking, nor would they have dreamed of making too loud a sound.
Every warrior, every knight or student of sword fighting knew that they were watching two warriors engage in a duel that would become legend for generations to come, and that would only be passed down through myth and old, tattered books.
The blade of Excalibur sang a hauntingly beautiful tune with each swing; one would think it was singing to its master.
On the opposite side of Jennie, Azral was also holding on to his own great sword; he laughed softly.
"Come, Sword King!" he taunted.
"What better way can we continue writing history than to write a new Chapter today?"
The two legends rippled the air around them as they made their first steps forward at the exact same moment in time.
