The bizarre force quickly dissipated under Brad's self-regeneration and the formidable magic within his body.
Although the curse suppressing his immortality remained, it no longer hindered his movement.
Rubbing his right shoulder with his left hand and sensing no major issue, the White Knight, longsword in hand, strode toward the pile of rubble created by Ryougi Raku's impact.
He was prepared—if his opponent wasn't dead, he would unleash his ultimate technique without hesitation...
On a nearby hill, Altrouge frowned slightly, a fleeting expression that stirred a desire to soothe her worries.
"...He couldn't have died just like that, could he?"
Yet, Altrouge herself clearly didn't believe that someone who could fight Brad so fiercely, even gaining the upper hand, would perish so easily...
She understood the White Knight's strength perfectly. Even without resorting to his deadliest moves, he ranked among the top of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors!
The White Beast, usually languid in posture, now sat up seriously, its gaze fixed on the rubble where Ryougi Raku had fallen.
"That young man is indeed not dead... In fact... his presence hasn't weakened much at all..."
The Primate Murder's perception was exceedingly sharp; it clearly sensed the youth's vigorous aura, yet even it found this outcome somewhat hard to believe.
Could it be that the previous blow hadn't even left a scratch on him?
Altrouge's eyes flickered thoughtfully, naturally trusting the White Beast's words without question.
"Bremet... go assist Brad and the others. You must capture that young man..." After weighing the balance of combat power, Altrouge calmly instructed.
"But, Princess—"
"Even if wounded, I am still the noble Brunestud!" Altrouge cut off Bremet's protest, declaring with pride.
Seeing the pride in her Princess's heart, Bremet opened her mouth but ultimately could only utter a single word.
"...Yes."
'With Brad and Sturlhoute, we should be able to conclude the battle swiftly.' Thinking this, Bremet acquiesced to Altrouge's command.
In an instant, the White Beast's form vanished like a phantom from its original spot, darting toward the nearby battlefield.
On the mountaintop, only Altrouge remained standing. The breeze gently swayed her robes, the torn sections already mended by magic.
Brushing aside the black hair obscuring her vision, she appeared like a goddess under the moonlight.
"What an... interesting fellow..." she murmured to herself.
Ryougi Raku felt his body had fully recovered, though a hint of weariness showed in his eyes.
Whether it was combat stamina, power, or the flow of sword energy, their essence all originated from the power of "Origin" condensed from his mind, spirit, and will.
Though stimulated by pain, his mind remained perfectly clear and his will unyielding, his external spirit still felt fatigued.
Buried deep within the rubble, his right hand gripping the longsword was somewhat inconvenient. Instead, he raised his left hand, formed a sword-finger, and began gathering potent sword energy in a spiraling vortex upon his fingertip.
"Does this count as 'everything can be a sword' for me now?" Feeling the distortion of space and the surrounding rubble being ground into dust under the pressure of the sword energy, Ryougi Raku allowed himself a moment of self-deprecating humor.
Brad, advancing toward the rubble, sensed the surge of sword energy within and braced himself.
Sure enough, in the next moment, a burst of sword energy pierced through the massive rocks, shooting straight toward him.
However, Brad was prepared and easily dodged it.
Then, the figure he both loved and hated appeared before him.
Scrutinizing Ryougi Raku, Brad remained somewhat incredulous—there wasn't a single visible injury on the youth's exterior!
He knew perfectly well the force behind that kick of his.
Brad shook his head. If that didn't work, he would simply employ an even stronger move.
"Compared to land, I prefer to conquer the oceans..."
The magic around him began to surge, coalescing to resist the world's correction. The deepest scene from his psyche was about to manifest, encroaching upon reality.
"This is!" Ryougi Raku narrowed his eyes, assuming a ready stance.
Finally, it was happening—the scenario he had been trying to avoid was unfolding.
He only had a theoretical understanding of Reality Marble, this forbidden spell among forbidden spells, the ultimate among ultimates, the grand magecraft closest to True Magic.
Let alone personally experiencing it!
Having missed the war between the King of Conquerors and the King of Heroes, this was his first time facing it directly.
The surging magic felt like a curse, oppressively uncomfortable.
Ryougi Raku knew that attacking now would not interrupt the formation of the Reality Marble.
All he could do was remain calm and adapt to the situation.
"Reality—" Just two words were uttered before the Reality Marble—which Ryougi Raku couldn't have interrupted—was indeed halted.
A hand rested on Brad's shoulder. What stopped this grand magecraft was a single sentence: "Enough, Brad!"
Hearing the familiar voice behind him, a voice Brad respected, from a comrade he had fought alongside for countless years—their trust was so implicit that he decisively ceased the activation of the Reality Marble upon the other's word.
Sometimes, he had even whimsically thought, 'How great it would be if Sturlhoute were a beautiful maiden.'
Brad's surging magic began to dissipate.
He turned to look at the Black Knight, Sturlhoute (Stout), behind him, his eyes questioning the reason for the interruption.
"The Princess requires us to capture him..." Sturlhoute paused, then continued, "...alive is sufficient."
The implication was clear: as long as he lived, it didn't matter how maimed he became.
"The two of us will join forces and subdue him quickly. We've wasted too much time already."
"Do not use your Reality Marble; the strain of the world's correction is something even you cannot sustain for long. These are extraordinary times; we do not know when the White Wing Lord might appear again. Preserving our strength is paramount!"
Uncharacteristically, the Black Knight spoke at length, solely to explain himself to Brad.
"Naturally, that fellow who dared insult the Princess must also be made to regret his words!"
Sturlhoute had been observing the battle between the two from nearby, not intervening until Brad prepared to deploy his Reality Marble, at which point he stepped in to stop him.
Seeing the Black and White Knights before him, Ryougi Raku irritably rubbed his head.
He had already fully prepared his route of retreat, though outwardly he maintained the defiant stance of a fledgling ready to fight to the death.
"Hey, hey, you two over there, finished your chat? Are you coming one by one, or all together? Hurry up and decide; I'm in a bit of a rush." Ryougi Raku pointed his longsword at them, his gaze provocative.
The Black and White Knights exchanged a glance, then stepped forward in unison.
Though they were called knights, it was only due to their role as the Princess's protectors. In truth, they held no chivalric ideals; the Princess's command was absolute.
It was unknown what Sturlhoute had been before becoming a Dead Apostle, but Brad was most likely a pirate captain before his transformation.
The Black Knight stepped ahead, drawing his demonic sword—Vlov—for the first time before Ryougi Raku.
A dense, sinister aura emanated from the black longsword.
This was a genuine, high-grade Noble Phantasm, wielded by one of the Three Ancient Dead Apostles, the Sixth of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors!
Sturlhoute's face was that of a stern middle-aged man, his eyes cold and indifferent, seemingly devoid of any light. He wore simple black attire.
His mere presence exuded a bone-chilling, murderous intent.
The black demonic sword released a strange black mist, complementing his austere, robust physique, making him appear like a demon from the depths of hell.
---
Without a word, Sturlhoute swung the longsword in his hand.
The strange, mist-like black aura instantly coalesced, transforming into sharp longswords that multiplied into countless projectiles shooting straight toward Ryougi Raku!
The scene was eerily similar to how Ryougi Raku had earlier treated the White Knight.
"Bring it on! Four Realms, Eight Directions Slash!" Surging sword energy erupted. Ryougi Raku employed this technique once more, but this time for defense rather than offense.
The scattered sword energy clashed with the bizarre black aura, emitting dull thuds.
The black aura, as if encountering a delicacy, fiercely enveloped the sword energy.
After a brief struggle, Ryougi Raku's sword energy dissipated. Although the black aura dimmed, it persisted.
With a single exchange, the disparity was immediately clear.
Ryougi Raku had anticipated this outcome, so he wasn't particularly surprised.
The Black Knight was fundamentally different from the White Knight.
The White Knight Brad's main strength lay in his Reality Marble; while his swordsmanship was formidable, it was merely the accumulation of time, not a deeply studied art.