“Urgh, damn it!”
Ridwi was the first to notice the anomaly.
His spellcasting speed was far slower, and his power was lacking.
He realized with brutal clarity just how much he had been relying on divine power all this time.
The other Zodiac members were the same.
After crossing blades with gods a few times, you come to understand.
Your own weakness.
And the past in which you had leaned on the gods.
“Hey.”
At that moment, after unleashing a powerful spell and sinking into a momentary slump, Ridwi—
Right behind him was one of the Twelve Gods.
Apollo.
“Old men should step aside.”
His sword thrust toward Ridwi.
“Gah!”
KWA-AANG!
But in front of him—an explosion blossomed in midair, blocking Apollo’s charge.
“Cheh!”
Drawing back from the smoke with an annoyed click of his tongue, Apollo turned his gaze. It was Ospreet.
“Ridwi! Are you alright!”
“Y-yeah. You saved my life.”
Ridwi let out a breath of relief.
If not for Ospreet, it really would have been dangerous.
Even if Ridwi was a mage, his nature was vastly different from Ospreet’s. He was a pure mage through and through, one who needed a vanguard.
But that was one thing—
‘Old man?’
—and getting pissed was another.
“You gilded statue-looking bastard, how dare you!”
Flames burned in Ridwi’s eyes.
He spread both hands and began his incantation.
“Hah! You think I’ll just stand here and watch that!”
Seeing this, Apollo rushed forward.
KRAAANG!
A man stepped in and blocked the downward strike.
The man shouted at Ridwi.
“Ridwi! Are you out of your mind! You’re chanting right in front of him!”
“Ah, I just wanted to sneak a look at your ugly mug.”
“......So you dragged your son into a deathtrap.”
Hector.
Ridwi’s son blocked Apollo’s path.
“......You.”
Apollo, who had been looking relaxed while staring at Ridwi, now faced Hector—and his eyes sank.
“Hector.”
“What’s this? A god knowing my name? I should be honored.”
Hector sniped back, but obviously his insides were tight with tension.
He himself wasn’t even a Zodiac. He was facing an opponent who was giving even the Zodiac a hard time.
Swiish!
“Urgh!”
Apollo’s blade suddenly flew at him. Hector barely managed to react.
The thrusting blade grazed Hector’s cheek, and as he turned his head, he pivoted on his front foot.
Swiish—
KRAAANG!
His rotating slash. Apollo blocked it lightly.
‘Damn it, he blocked an all-out strike like that without even moving!’
Hector ground his teeth.
And in the midst of that—
“Hey, Hector. I know a certain girl who uses mana and aura at the same time. You’re supposed to be a magic swordsman, and you can’t do that?”
“You try it yourself!”
Ridwi, who should’ve been helping from behind, was just making his blood boil instead.
“Tch tch, that’s why you can’t do it. Head of Teiven, my ass—either do magic or use a sword, pick one. Doing both half-baked is why you’re so sloppy.”
“Shut up! It’s your fault in the first pla—”
Hector cut himself off mid-sentence.
Ridwi cocked his head.
“What’s that? Why’d you stop talking?”
“I’m busy! Can’t you see I’m fighting a god?!”
KLANG! KAKANG!
Hector’s and Apollo’s swords clashed, and Hector staggered every time.
But whenever Apollo tried to exploit that opening—
‘Annoying.’
Magic arrows cut into his blind spots, harassing him.
They weren’t particularly special spells, just basic offensive magic. To someone like Apollo, even if he let them hit, they did almost no damage—just forced him to pause for maybe 0.1 seconds.
And Hector used that 0.1 seconds to stay alive.
“This is fun!”
Apollo exclaimed in delight.
Hector was complete as a magic swordsman. In a rather peculiar way, sure—but the fact that he was buying time against a god meant he’d achieved the dual purpose of magic and swordsmanship.
“Hey, Ridwi! When are you going to actually chant something!”
“Just hold yer horses. You think magic is easy or somethin’? People who’ve never done it always—”
“Never done it, my ass! Can’t you see how I’m fighting right now?”
“Anyway, keep talking from before. You said it was my fault and all.”
“Mind your own business! Focus on your incantation!”
Hector honestly could not understand Ridwi.
Why did he keep talking to him? Right now, every single second was a life-or-death moment. How could he keep chattering and still be chanting? As a mage, it was incomprehensible.
“Hector. Don’t you try to fool me.”
The voice flew at him again from behind.
“I’ve always known your talent would surpass mine.”
“......What.”
Hector hesitated for a moment.
Swiish!
“Uwaah!”
He ducked in a panic, barely dodging the blade. That had been really close.
Veins bulged on his neck as Hector yelled.
“Ridwi! Do you seriously want to see your own son die?!”
“I knew you’d outgrow me as a mage.”
“Cut the crap! I was born with low mana, remember! That’s why I never learned magic!”
“Right, you said that too. D’you remember what kinda face you were makin’ back then?”
Swiish!
KWAAANG!
Apollo’s blade. This time Ridwi blocked it.
‘......?’
Ridwi’s attack. Probably a type of Wind Arrow spell, “Gathering Wind.” Someone like Ridwi could easily block Apollo’s strike.
But hadn’t Ridwi been in the middle of chanting?
“You looked happy. When you realized your mana pool was small.”
“......!”
“You needed a reason, didn’t you?”
Ridwi raised one hand. Mana overflowed from it.
But even Apollo couldn’t recognize the nature of that mana. He had no idea what spell Ridwi was trying to use.
How strong it was, how fast it would be. Unable to gauge any of that, Apollo stiffened.
“You didn’t want to surpass your famous mage father.”
“......You’re talking nonsense. Ridwi, you’ve really gone weird.”
“Yeah. I’ve gone weird.”
Ridwi lifted his hand. The mana gathered there—
FWAAAT!
—slowly, gently, and warmly—
“!”
—touched Hector, not Apollo.
“Ever since I was possessed by a god, I figured it out.”
“......Ridwi?”
“Hector. Your own soul—ya only see it when you get honest with yourself.”
Then—
Bzzzzt, bzzzzzt!
Hector’s left hand began to shine.
No, it was lightning.
‘That’s... Chain Lightning?’
But Hector hadn’t chanted Chain Lightning.
And yet his left hand now bore a spell that had nothing to do with him.
‘Did Ridwi somehow start being able to give “magic” itself to other people?’
Hector looked at his own hand.
He knew instinctively.
This was a magic Hector himself could freely use.
Without consuming his mana.
Without needing him to chant.
“My soul, that’s what it was, Hector. My Ecleksis turned out to be pretty trivial.”
Ridwi’s soul. Its power.
To bestow his own magic on someone else.
“So if you’re holding back on magic ‘cause of me, I’m not grateful or happy in the slightest, you idiot son.”
“......Ridwi.”
No—strictly speaking, not “someone else.”
It was a strictly inferior version.
A very inefficient Ecleksis.
Ridwi smiled and said,
“It’s a son-only service. Go nuts.”
***
The furthest edge of Asgard.
There, a battle was raging powerful enough to shrink the very domain of this world.
“Hmph!”
Every swing of Thor’s sword left sparks that burned the air, tearing up the entire area. It was a trajectory that ripped the air apart.
And blocking that in front of him—
KWAAANG!!
—was Frondier’s Gram.
“Kh...!”
“Urgh...!”
At the moment their swords collided, a void opened between the two. Their auras repelled each other, their feet scraping long grooves into the ground, a struggle of strength unfolding even at a distance where their blades no longer touched.
Every movement Thor made was steeped in lightning, right down to a single blink.
Bzzzzzt......
One step from Thor. Frondier was pushed back by that alone. Black Heaven pushed against Thor’s aura as well. Even so, the balance of power did not change.
Monstrous speed and strength. Even with all he had, Frondier still lagged in pure ability.
Frondier had seen this kind of might once before.
Heracles.
“You’re weak!”
TU-UUNG!
Thor swung his sword upward. The recoil of the aura made Frondier lose his grip on Gram, and his arms spread wide.
Bzzzzzt!
Thor’s sword slammed into the ground, and a chilling bolt of lightning lunged for Frondier.
Frondier watched the lightning rush toward him.
In the past, Frondier had thought that nothing would work against Heracles.
But now—
Mana of the Nine Worlds
Spear of Black Lightning
A single spear blossomed in front of Frondier. It devoured every bolt of lightning rushing at him—
FLASH!
—and shot forward.
“Urgh...!”
Thor hastily dodged.
KWA-AANG!
The landscape behind Thor changed.
Its power was in no way inferior to Thor’s own.
Among the gods, perhaps only someone like Thor could properly react to such lightning speed.
Which meant he could avoid it—but still—
‘What is this guy, really?’
Thor’s expression grew grave.
Even for him, reacting to lightning speed was difficult.
But just now, Frondier had watched the lightning and then activated his skill.
This wasn’t mere [N O V E L I G H T] reaction speed.
That skill had already been prepared.
As if he’d known exactly what kind of attack Thor would use.
‘It doesn’t feel like he’s fighting a human. Or a demon, either.’
In that case, he was—
“!”
But he had no time to follow that thought.
Weaving, Black Heaven
Imperial Armory
Full release
Next. Above him in the air, Frondier’s weapons lined up.
All of them were extraordinary, but in front of Thor, it was true that they shrank somewhat.
However, once they were all—
Mana of the Nine Worlds granted
Ginnungagap’s Armory
—stained in “black,” the story changed completely.
Shwishwishik!
Black blades shot toward Thor.
“Hup!”
KLANG! KKAANG!
Thor struck down the incoming weapons with his sword. His speed surpassed the speed at which they flew.
“You think this is enough to take me!”
As if in answer to Thor’s shout—
Greatsword of Black Flame
“!”
Frondier himself arrived, together with the weapons, rushing Thor.
“You little...!”
KWAAAAAANG!!
Two swords collided.
While Thor swept his sword to knock things aside, Frondier, the moment he swung his weapon, let go of it.
Frondier had no need to keep holding onto his weapons.
Because already around him—
Nil Jacques’s shortsword.
Atjie’s spear.
Gram, Excalibur, Enkephalos, Trident.
KWANG! KWA-AANG! KRAAANG!!
In midair, weapons that obeyed Frondier arrayed themselves.
Frondier grabbed, swung, threw, discarded, and seized them again in an instant.
It was already bombardment using weapons.
A cross-shaped barrage, falling on Thor like a thunderstorm.
‘What the hell is he! Why does he have all these weapons!’
Thor blocked as he retreated.
Right now, Frondier was wielding every kind of divine and heroic weapon.
Could a single man really see all those weapons in person and replicate them?
Just what was happening inside this bastard?
“UAAAAAAAH─!!”
Thor’s cry. Aura roared out with his rage.
“Urk!”
Frondier was pushed back. The weapons flying through the air crashed down with a clatter.
“Die, Frondier!”
Thor’s next step brought him right before Frondier’s eyes.
Short Step.
“!”
KRAAANG!
“Urgh...!”
Frondier hurriedly blocked Thor’s horizontal slash. His body reeled.
Shwishwishwik!
All of Black Heaven poured down on Thor; some skewered his body, others bound his arms and legs.
But it only slowed Thor’s speed by the barest fraction.
Frondier’s blade carved a diagonal line, and Thor twisted his steps to dive through that gap. Frondier blocked his fist—
THUD!
—but took a kick in the gut as Thor’s leg shot out, sending him flying far away.
‘...No, you arrogant brat.’
Only then did Thor realize it—after he’d kicked him.
Frondier had taken that blow on purpose.
The pattern between the two was like this:
The closer the distance, the more it favored Thor. The farther, the more it favored Frondier.
As he flew, Frondier stretched out his right hand—
“......!”
—and grabbed the woven Mjölnir.
Thor’s eyes gleamed with icy blue fury.
