Kurisu sat there, nonchalantly perched on the grand white stone steps leading to the gates of the Royal Castle. The monumental political fiasco he had just triggered inside did not seem to affect him in the slightest.
He swung his feet in the air, whistling a cheerful tune that was completely unknown in this world. Beside him sat Subaru, whom he had forcibly dragged by the collar and compelled to sit. The boy stared at the cobblestones, his breath short, deeply shocked by the turn of events.
Subaru could not hold back any longer. He turned toward his "tutor," his eyes wide with anxiety.
Subaru: « Kurisu, why did you do that?! You literally just turned the entire kingdom, the Council of Sages, and the royal candidates against us! Do you realize the giant target you just painted on our foreheads?! »
Kurisu stopped whistling. He slowly turned his head toward Subaru with a casual shrug and an almost innocent smile.
Kurisu: « Honestly? I couldn't care less. As long as I'm having fun, nothing else matters. And besides, even if the entire kingdom decided to come after me... it would only be a light warm-up. If they try, they'll all get crushed. »
Subaru stared at him as if he had just heard a declaration of World War III. He had already witnessed Kurisu's monstrous and illogical strength, but to face an entire nation as if it were a walk in the park? Subaru's lack of understanding was total. How far did his power actually reach?
Subaru: « You're completely insane... » he breathed, overcome by nervous exhaustion.
But before Subaru could dwell further on his companion's suicidal madness, the sound of rapid, heavy, and rhythmic footsteps echoed on the pavement. Julius Juukulius, the Knight of Knights, stepped into the light of day. His face was set, his features frozen in a marble expression. The aura emanating from him vibrated with cold, perfectly mastered indignation, far from any vulgar rage. He had followed them to the outdoor training courtyard.
Julius: « Wait. »
His voice, sharp as a blade of ice, froze Subaru in place.
Julius: « What you did in that room... is an unpardonable affront to the candidates of the Royal Selection, to the nobility, and to the very institution of Knighthood. My duty forbids me from letting an individual flout our honor and leave without facing the consequences. I challenge you to a duel. »
Kurisu turned around slowly. A mocking sneer, loaded with condescension, stretched across his lips. He sized Julius up from head to toe, his gaze shining with an openly insulting pity.
Kurisu: « Oh, you want to face me? Bad idea, noble knight. You'd break your sword on my jacket before I even had time to set down my cup of tea. On the other hand... »
With a sudden and unpredictable movement, Kurisu grabbed Subaru's shoulders and shoved him violently forward. Subaru stumbled and nearly sprawled at Julius's feet.
Kurisu: « Fight him instead. The kid needs to understand the difference between "wanting" and "being able to." »
Subaru: « Huh?! But what? Why always me?! » Subaru panicked, backing away hurriedly with his hands raised.
Kurisu: « Well, are you surprised? After all, I'm the one who came to save you from your public humiliation. I turned everyone against me for your sake. Let this be a lesson to you; it'll be good training! Kekeke... »
He laughed heartily.
Julius's face hardened. He ignored the trembling boy in front of him to fix Kurisu with implacable severity.
Julius: « It is not him I challenged. It is you. Or do you intend to back down after all the arrogant words you spoke before the assembly? »
Kurisu: « Oh? Don't worry. If you want to fight me that badly, you'll first have to prove you're worthy by winning against my student. Or perhaps... does Julius Juukulius, the greatest of knights, fear losing to a novice with no magic? »
The provocation was crude, but Julius remained stoic. Only a slight tightening of his lips betrayed his annoyance at this lack of respect for tradition.
Julius: « If that is your condition to cross blades... So be it. But you'd better not run when I am finished with him. »
Kurisu: « It's a promise. » he smiled, amused, while Subaru literally lost all composure.
The scene quickly moved to the center of the knight's training arena. Subaru, a wooden sword clutched awkwardly in his trembling hands, stood in the middle of the sand.
Around them, the stands were filling up rapidly. Dark-looking knights and hateful nobles cast murderous glares at the two boys.
Kurisu placed a firm hand on Subaru's shoulder.
Kurisu: « Listen to me carefully, Subaru. » Kurisu's tone suddenly lost all irony, becoming chillingly serious, making the boy shiver.
Kurisu: « Don't try to win. You can't. His reputation as the best knight isn't for show. But I want you to bet absolutely everything on a single attack. One well-placed strike. Do you understand? Put all your senses, your whole life into that fraction of a second. »
Subaru swallowed hard. Kurisu's gaze left him no escape. He turned toward Julius, clenched his fists, and took an approximate stance.
At the other end of the arena, Reinhard van Astrea approached Julius, his face marked by a hint of sadness.
Reinhard: « Julius, you shouldn't do this. Testing a defenseless boy... it's not like you. »
Julius: « He insulted us, Reinhard. The knights, the candidates, the Sages... He mocked the solemnity of this castle. My role is to clean this stain. »
Julius replied, his voice calm but resolute.
Reinhard: « I admit that man went too far. But this is too dangerous. His aura... it's non-existent, yet suffocating. You shouldn't face him over a simple matter of wounded honor. »
Julius: « No, it isn't just a personal matter. It is the duty of my sword to put this defiant man in his place and restore the dignity of knighthood! »
Julius declared loudly.
The crowd of knights roared in reverence, cheering for their role model's nobility.
…..
Meanwhile, inside the castle, in the candidates' waiting room, a guard burst in, out of breath.
Guard: « Report! The knight Julius and Natsuki Subaru are currently facing each other in a practice duel with wooden swords in the arena! »
Emilia: « How... how could this have happened? » cried the half-elf, breathless, her heart pounding wildly.
Anastasia: « Well now, who started this fight? » asked the merchant, adjusting her fur scarf, her eyes narrowed with curiosity.
Guard: « It was Sir Julius, Lady Anastasia. He had first challenged the man in white named Kurisu, but he forced his valet to take his place. »
Priscilla burst into a loud laugh that vibrated through the silent room, hiding her cruel smile behind her red fan.
Priscilla: « Hahaha! Such big words, only to back out when the time comes! The so-called "all-powerful" tutor hides behind a toothless dog to buy time! What a pitiable sight. »
Crusch: « If they were fighting on equal terms, we could simply wait for the outcome. But against a novice... »
Guard: « Yes, Lady Crusch! The fight is... it's so one-sided that I feared for the boy's life. »
The guard cast a nervous glance toward Emilia.
Emilia: « It has to be stopped! Subaru is no match! » and with those words, Emilia rushed outside.
Al: « We should go too, right? That guy... he was strange. We should at least see what he's really worth, shouldn't we, princess? »
Al suggested, scratching his helmet, still unsettled by this man who seemed to read his soul.
Priscilla snapped her fan shut, her eyes sparkling with malice. She remembered very well how this man had blocked her Yang Sword with a single finger, with disconcerting ease.
« Why send his dog to the slaughterhouse when he could crush the knight himself? » she thought.
Priscilla: « Yes... let's go see what this buffoon is worth without his little schemes. Prepare yourselves. »
…..
On the packed earth field, the fight had already broken out. Or rather, the public execution. Subaru was being decimated. Julius's wooden sword strikes rained down with surgical precision, hitting muscles and joints, seeking to neutralize him through pain without killing him.
Yet, Subaru held on. Contrary to what one might expect from a commoner facing the kingdom's best knight, the boy managed to deflect one strike out of ten. His reflexes were pitiable compared to Julius, but infinitely superior to what they had been a month prior. Kurisu, arms crossed at the edge of the arena, noticed this progress with a smirk of satisfaction.
Julius: « What kind of pride-less master sends an inferior to be beaten to save his own skin? »
Julius shouted while viciously sweeping Subaru's legs, forcing the boy to bite the dust. He pointed his sword toward Kurisu.
Julius: « Your tutor has no honor! »
Subaru: « Shut up! » spat Subaru.
He rose painfully, his face bruised, spitting a trail of blood.
Subaru: « You don't know even a tenth of Kurisu's strength! He's doing this... just to toughen me up! »
Emilia: « Subaru! »
The half-elf's crystalline voice echoed from the balcony overlooking the arena. Out of breath, hands clutching the railing, she watched her self-proclaimed knight being destroyed.
The other candidates had just arrived. Priscilla wore a predatory smile, Crusch frowned in annoyance at this asymmetrical violence, and Anastasia was already calculating the fallout of this incident.
The clash continued, but Subaru had reached his limit. His lungs burned as if he were breathing embers; his vision blurred. He couldn't even hear Emilia's desperate voice anymore.
Julius, sighing at this stupid and futile obstinacy, raised his weapon for the final thrust. A strike to the back of the neck to knock him out. He lunged at him with lightning speed.
The world seemed to slow down for Subaru. The noise of the crowd vanished.
« Put all your senses into at least just one attack. A single one is enough. »
Kurisu's words resonated in his mind, clear as crystal. Subaru closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, ignoring the searing pain in his ribs, ignoring the visceral fear of death.
At the very last thousandth of a second, as the wooden blade was about to strike his temple, Subaru pivoted his neck in an almost disjointed manner. The blade grazed his skin, tearing a long bloody scratch on his cheek, but it missed the critical impact point.
Taking advantage of his own kamikaze momentum and the tiny imbalance of Julius, who thought he had hit his target, Subaru swung his fist with all the strength he had left, straight ahead.
CRACK.
A sharp, unexpected sound echoed through the silent courtyard. Subaru's bare fist had smashed right into the bridge of the perfect nose of the Knight of Knights. The blow lacked technique—it was clumsy, desperate... but the precision was absolute.
Julius, stunned, widened his eyes and took a step back. A deathly silence fell over the stands, stifling the nobles and knights.
Subaru collapsed forward, his consciousness finally flickering out.
Subaru: « Damn... Just barely... » he whispered, a faint smile on his lips, before sinking into darkness.
Before his battered body hit the ground, Kurisu appeared like a mirage and caught him with one hand. A genuine smile of pride, rare and sincere, stretched across his lips.
Kurisu: « That wasn't bad at all, kid. You handled it. » He looked up at a squad of knights frozen on the side.
Kurisu: « Hey, you lot! Take him to the infirmary. And treat him well, or I'll be the one coming to "treat" you. »
The knights, too shocked to protest, came to collect the unconscious boy without daring to cast even a single dark look at Kurisu. On the balcony, Emilia had both hands pressed over her mouth. She had seen Subaru give everything for... a mere scratch.
« Kurisu… what has gotten into you to push him to the limit like that? » she thought, torn between anger and relief.
Julius, for his part, remained perfectly still. He slowly brought his hand, clad in immaculate white, to his face. When he lowered it, a drop of bright red blood stained the leather. His nose was bleeding. The ideal knight, the untouchable, had just been struck in the face by a nobody.
Julius: « A lucky hit... or a will that exceeds your talent? Regardless, Natsuki Subaru... you managed to stain this uniform. I grant you that much credit. »
said Julius, wiping away the blood, instantly regaining his polar dignity. He turned toward Kurisu, ready to close this degrading incident.
Felix stepped forward into the center of the arena to proclaim Julius's victory, but Kurisu raised his hand, cutting him off.
Kurisu: « Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast, kitty. Congrats on beating a mana-less kid who has never held a sword in his life, Julius. Superb achievement. But since that little punch surprised you, this warm-up wasn't completely useless. Now... »
Kurisu cracked his neck with a sinister sound, his eyes fixing on Julius with a new intensity.
Kurisu: « You and I are going to play a bit. But since you just finished an "exhausting" fight, it wouldn't be very "knightly" of me to fight at full strength. Here are the rules: I'll let you attack me. If your sword touches me just once, you win, and I'll apologize publicly. I won't even defend myself. »
In the stands, after a moment of stupor, the arrogant laughter of the nobles and knights returned even louder. This man's arrogance bordered on suicide. But Emilia, pale, took a step toward the railing.
Emilia: « This fight must stop immediately! It's becoming much too dangerous! »
Anastasia: « Dangerous for the loudmouth, you mean? Let him deal with it, Lady Emilia. » the merchant snickered.
Emilia: « No... For Julius. »
Emilia's reply, spoken with terrified conviction, cast a chill over the balcony. Crusch frowned, suddenly very intrigued, meeting Wilhelm's gaze, who was watching Kurisu with extreme suspicion.
Priscilla: « Well, we shall see if this clown can back up the immensity of his arrogance. Divert me, vagabond. »
On the sandy field, Julius accepted the challenge with a sharp nod, drawing his true sword this time—a blade of gleaming steel.
Julius: « You will have to stand by your words, intruder. Prepare yourself. »
Kurisu: « Oh, don't worry about me. But to spice things up a bit more, I'm going to set a little scene... »
Kurisu smiled widely and clapped his hands.
CLAP.
Suddenly, dozens of translucent magic screens appeared floating all around the stadium, then above the castle. The crowd backed away, whispering in surprise at this unknown magic.
Julius: « What... what are you doing? Cease these illusions! »
Kurisu: « Oh, it's nothing. I'm just making this moment... historic. »
Kurisu cleared his throat, and strangely, the sound was amplified as if he were speaking directly into the ear of every person present.
Kurisu: « Test... test. One, two... Can you hear me in the back? »
His voice resonated not only in the arena, but the massive screens appearing in the skies of Lugunica began to crackle. In a second, they broadcasted the perfect and sharp image of the arena throughout the entire capital. In the merchant streets, in the noble quarters, and even in the miserable alleys of the slums, everyone looked up.
Anastasia, on her balcony, widened her eyes, her merchant mind working at full speed.
« Magic capable of broadcasting live images to a whole city? If I owned that... gold would flow like water! »
Kurisu fixed his gaze on one of the "screens," struck an excessively "kawaii" pose, made a peace sign (V) with his fingers, and changed his voice to a high-pitched, parodic presenter tone.
Kurisu: « Heeeey everyone, citizens of the Kingdom of Lugunica! Kurisu here, a simple vagabond with no title! Today, I'm going to face Julius, the "best" of your dear kingdom's knights! Stay with us, it's going to be epic! Kekeke! »
In the grimy alleys of the slums, the inhabitants in rags, initially frightened by these glowing panels, began to gather. Half-human children, ostracized and beaten by guards only the day before, watched this strange man defy supreme authority with stars in their eyes.
Conversely, in the luxurious manors of the capital, nobles dropped their wine glasses, outraged by this profanation of the royal image.
Kurisu resumed his normal voice and cast an amused look at the healer.
Kurisu: « Hey, Felix. You can start the clock. »
Felix: « Nya? But what is... » Felix was completely bewildered. He looked at Julius, who, although anxious in the face of this sorcery, gave an affirmative nod, ready to settle this.
Felix raised his hand, hesitating. « Reeeeeeady... BEGIN!! »
The fight started. Well… not exactly.
Under the bulging eyes of the entire nobility, the Council of Sages, and the people of Lugunica, Kurisu bent his knees and... sat down. He didn't sit on the ground, but on the air itself. His clothes adjusted around an invisible and immovable chair.
With a theatrical snap of his fingers, a fine porcelain teacup, steaming, appeared in his hand. He crossed his legs with obscene elegance, blew gently on his Earl Grey tea, and stared at Julius over the rim.
Kurisu: « Go ahead, I'm waiting. Oh, and before I forget... give it everything you've got. It won't change a thing. »
The absolute, cosmic arrogance of this gesture made Julius's blood boil. Forgetting his reserve for a moment, the Knight charged. He launched a series of devastating attacks with lightning speed. Thrusts aimed at the heart, slashes to decapitate, sweeps to sever legs. The blade whistled as it sliced through the air.
But with every strike, a heavy, dull sound resonated. BONG. BONG. BONG.
The tempered steel of Julius's sword slammed violently into an invisible and impassable wall, exactly two centimeters from Kurisu's body.
The Knight redoubled his efforts, increasing the pace until he became a blur. He aimed for the throat, the eyes. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Kurisu sipped his tea, eyelids half-closed, looking thoroughly bored, lulled by the symphony of useless strikes.
Julius, panting, teeth clenched, leaped back and channeled all his mana. Six quasi-spirits of different colors appeared around him, lighting up the arena.
Julius: « Al Clarista! »
A beam of pure, destructive light, capable of melting steel and pulverizing rock, shot at Kurisu in a roar of thunder. The impact created a blinding explosion that kicked up a cloud of dust in the arena.
Faced with this deluge of magic, Kurisu finally made a move. He simply moved his small teacup in front of the attack.
When the light faded and the dust settled... terror set in. Kurisu was still sitting, legs crossed. His cup was immaculate. Not a single fold of his white jacket had moved. Not a drop of tea had been spilled.
CRACK.
Julius's sublime sword, which had accompanied the beam and struck the invisible surface of Kurisu's Authority of Greed, let out a metallic groan and shattered into pieces. The top half of the blade ricocheted and planted itself deep into the soft earth.
Julius remained frozen, arms trembling, breath short, eyes wide as he stared at the broken hilt in his hand. He had used his ultimate attack. He hadn't even brushed his opponent's clothing.
Kurisu let go of his cup, which remained floating in the air. He stood up slowly, uncrossing his arms, and approached Julius with the air of an adult disappointed by a rowdy child. He didn't strike him.
He simply raised his hand, nonchalantly grabbed a lock of Julius's purple hair, and pulled firmly downward to force the knight to half-kneel and look him in the eyes.
Kurisu stared at Julius for a moment, a heavy silence settling between them before he let out a sigh of disdain.
Kurisu: « You see? No matter how much you parade around with your shiny title, you are nothing but a fraud. A walking hypocrisy. »
He adjusted his position, crossing his arms with an insulting nonchalance while the knight remained on the ground.
Kurisu: « You indulge in your role as a tragic hero without ever looking reality in the face. I could torture you right here, tear off your limbs, and humiliate you publicly... »
He paused, his eyes shining with a dark, almost predatory gleam.
Kurisu: « But lucky for you, some people seem to respect you a little. So, I will refrain from doing so. »
With a slow movement, Kurisu leaned over, grasping Julius's shoulder almost tenderly to draw close to his ear. At that exact moment, by his simple will, the magic projection screens zoomed in on them, capturing every detail of his expression.
Kurisu: « You think you are the pinnacle of knighthood, Julius... »
His voice had become suave, almost poisonous, broadcasted with frightening clarity across the entire capital. He turned his head slightly, pointing a finger toward the balcony where Emilia stood.
Kurisu: « You preach propriety and respect. But earlier, in that throne room, you let a legitimate candidate for royalty be insulted, spat upon, and belittled by a horde of senile old men... simply because she is a half-elf.The purest and most benevolent person in this damn room was treated like a plague, and the "Knight of Knights" didn't lift a finger. »
Kurisu gave a small, humiliating tap on Julius's cheek, forcing him to turn his head toward the stands.
Kurisu: « Even worse: you are a coward. If it were your lady, that greedy little merchant up there, you would have drawn your sword without hesitation. »
He drew himself up to his full height, towering over the broken knight with his shadow.
Kurisu: « But when a "peasant" without a title dares to step in to defend the woman he loves against these nobles... suddenly, HE is the criminal? HE is the one who doesn't belong? »
Kurisu flashed a contemptuous smile, looking him straight in the eyes.
Kurisu: « This powerless kid you took pleasure in beating has more bravery in a single drop of his blood than your entire army of incompetents combined. He would die for his ideals. You, Julius... you would only die for your image. »
Julius's eyes widened. The words sank into his mind, demolishing his convictions like blades far sharper and crueler than his broken sword. His breath hitched.
Kurisu brutally let go of the knight's hair, leaving him panting on the ground, and pivoted on his heels. He raised his arms toward the royal balcony, his face split by a demented smile intended for the cameras.
Kurisu: « And don't think I've forgotten you—you arrogant nobles, useless knights, moronic sages, and especially you! Ladies! You are no better. Prisca... oh pardon, the great Priscilla. Crusch. Anastasia. »
He pointed at them one by one, his gaze piercing through every candidate via the giant screens.
Kurisu: « You pride yourselves on your perfect bloodlines, your destructive military ambitions, or your mountains of gold. You are driven only by pure selfishness, disguised as salvation for the people! »
He then made a sweeping gesture, encompassing the city's horizon.
Kurisu: « You sages and nobles, you look down at the capital from your ivory towers while you let your slums rot! »
His voice thundered, making the very air of the arena vibrate.
Kurisu: « You let demi-humans be extorted by corrupt knights who turn a blind eye for a miserable bribe! And you dare call that the justice of Lugnica?! It's just rot wrapped nicely in silk satin! The only ones here who possess an ounce of true empathy for this sick world are the little thief, Felt, and Emilia. »
He finally spat his last words with a glacial calm that made the assembly shiver.
Kurisu: « The rest of you... you are nothing but majestic parasites fighting over the corpse of a dead dragon! »
Having spat his venom with theatrical jubilation, Kurisu deactivated the screen zoom with a snap of his fingers, leaving only a wide shot of the arena.
The effect was immediate and cataclysmmic. In their sumptuous homes, the members of the Council of Sages screamed in rage, throwing their crystal cups against the walls, terrified to see their secrets and corruption screamed to the world's face by an untouchable monster.
In the slums, on the contrary, a religious silence had first greeted these words, followed by an explosion of cheers. Demi-humans wept as they finally saw someone spit in the faces of their oppressors without a blade being able to silence him.
The common citizens trembled behind their closed windows, sensing that the world order had just cracked.
In the arena, the silence was suffocating. Outrage competed with a paralyzing terror.
Crusch Karsten seethed, her fists clenched so tight her palms bled.
Anastasia had completely lost her affable smile, sweat beading on her forehead in the face of the ongoing political collapse.
Priscilla, however, was fascinated. A burning anger at the insult sat alongside pure excitement at this display of absolute supremacy.
Suddenly, an old noble with a face congested by fury shouted from the VIP balcony:
Noble: « Kill him! Just because this commoner used heretical sorcery to deceive Julius doesn't mean he is invincible! Send the Royal Guard! We have the army of Lugnica! We have the Sword Saint!! »
From there, it became a madhouse. Nobles barked incoherent orders. Mages took their positions; dozens of knights drew their blades, screaming heresy.
« Strike him down! »
« In the name of the Dragon, off with his head! »
« Master Reinhard, subdue this madman! »
Faced with this tide of hatred and the pathetic orders of men who did not even understand the nature of the being they were defying, Kurisu closed his eyes.
Then, he burst out laughing. A deep, dark, gravelly laugh that echoed through the ground and sent a shiver through the souls of even the most seasoned guards.
Kurisu: « Ah! Reinhard, is it? The famous joker. Well then... very well. »
He opened his eyes, his pupils narrowed into predatory slits.
Kurisu: « Let's show these happy idiots that we aren't even playing in the same dimension. Reinhard van Astrea! I challenge you. »
The assembly held its breath. The shouting stopped instantly. The man in white had just signed his formal death warrant. He was challenging the absolute hero, the invincible, the child blessed by Od Laguna himself.
Reinhard stepped slowly from the shadows of the stands to enter the courtyard. His face, usually so serene, was marked by a grave and painful perplexity.
Kurisu: « Don't worry, it will be a simple fight. Not to the death. Just a little remedial lesson to show you how desperately low your "power ceiling" is. »
Reinhard: « This duel is unnecessary, Mr. Kurisu. Although your actions and words are morally questionable and politically destructive... you have killed no one. »
Reinhard paused, placing his hand on the pommel of his knight's sword.
Reinhard: « But if I refuse to play your game now, you will become an official enemy of the state, won't you? Just as you implied during our discussion a month ago. »
At these words, Kurisu had a fierce smile that stretched almost to his ears.
Kurisu: « Ahh... you remember. You have a good memory. Well, you're not exactly wrong. But consider this a simple warm-up. So... try to reach me, Sword Saint. If you manage to touch me even once, I'll stop everything and surrender. »
Reinhard, his face filled with tragic determination and realizing he had no choice left to preserve the peace, resigned himself.
Reinhard: « I accept... this training duel. »
The red-haired hero took his stance. The air crackled around him. He did not touch Reid, the Dragon Sword, but even bare-handed, the atmospheric pressure suddenly became unbreathable throughout the arena.
In a fraction of a second, the Sword Saint disappeared.
BOOOM!
A massive sonic explosion tore through the courtyard. Reinhard had appeared right in front of Kurisu, striking straight ahead. The shockwave pulverized the cobblestones over twenty meters in diameter, kicking up an immense cloud of dust and debris. In the stands, the nobles sighed in relief, some laughing nervously. It was over. The anomaly was crushed.
But when the dust settled... the nightmare reclaimed its rights.
Kurisu was still standing, his hand nonchalantly held forward, feet firmly planted. Reinhard, in full extension, his face strained with effort, was pushing with all his might. But his fist, capable of splitting mountains, was stopped dead by an absolute void, barely a few millimeters from Kurisu's open palm.
Reinhard frowned, stunned. He leaped back and lunged again.
Divine speed. Destructive kicks. Strikes capable of dividing the clouds. The ground exploded under each of his steps, digging gaping craters. He attacked from every imaginable angle. But Kurisu barely moved his feet.
He blocked everything, deflected everything, with a deadly boredom. At one point, bordering on absolute insolence, Kurisu even let out a long yawn while flicking away a knee strike with a finger—a blow that would have leveled the royal castle.
With a fluid movement, Kurisu swept the air with the back of his hand, releasing a raw shockwave that pushed Reinhard back ten meters. The hero slid across the packed earth, digging furrows with his boots. The Sword Saint froze, looking at his hands, totally lost, his mind racing.
Reinhard: « My blessings tell me exactly where you are... they dictate perfectly how to dodge and how to strike with a lethal angle... »
Reinhard murmured, loud enough for the cameras to catch it.
Reinhard: « But when I attack you... my body and the mana of the world fail to recognize your physical existence. As if you were "elsewhere" rather than in front of me. Your defenses do not belong to the logic of nature. What are you? »
Kurisu dropped his hands into the pockets of his white jacket, a predatory smile splitting his face.
Kurisu: « I am the bug in the code. I am the exception that confirms your little rule of the strongest, Reinhard. »
He turned away from the perplexed hero and faced the cameras—and thus the whole world, which had just watched with horror the helplessness of their living God.
Kurisu: « You see? Even the trump card of your kingdom, the being loved by the world itself, can do nothing against me. So, I give you one last free piece of advice—to you puppets of the Council, and to you pretentious candidates: never take my warnings lightly again. Ah, and just so we are perfectly clear about the dizzying nature of the abyss between us... watch closely. »
Kurisu slowly raised his right hand, palm open toward the sky. He closed his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, his iris glowed with a cold, imperious, and unspeakable light, crushing reality itself.
Kurisu: « Za Warudo ! »
CRAAAACK.
The very sound of the universe seemed to crack like glass. A gray and silent wave swept through the arena, then the entire capital at the speed of light. The next instant, the air became dead. The vivid colors of the world faded to give way to ashen tones.
The dust kicked up by Reinhard stopped dead, suspended in the air like dead stars. The wind died. The water from the royal fountains froze in the middle of its fall.
Kurisu had just stopped the flow of time.
But his cruelty was of a diabolical refinement: he did not put consciousnesses to sleep. Thanks to his corrupted Authority, all the inhabitants—the nobles, the beggars, Julius, Reinhard, Priscilla, Emilia... absolutely everyone—were frozen in bodies of stone, but their minds remained totally lucid.
Prisoners of their own immobilized flesh, they suffocated with terror, unable to blink, condemned to observe a man walking freely in the middle of a dead world, suspended by his sole capricious will.
Kurisu walked quietly across the cobblestones suspended in time. His footsteps echoed terrifyingly in the absolute silence. He passed by Julius, meticulously adjusting the crumpled collar of the frozen knight's uniform. He caught his teacup which was still floating in the air, drank the last drop with delight, and made it disappear into the void.
Then, standing right in front of the main magic projector, which continued to broadcast this visual atrocity into the brains of the entire city, he smiled with all his teeth. The perfect expression of a supreme predator bidding farewell to a terrified flock.
Kurisu: « There. The show is over. I hope you enjoyed the lesson. Until next time, extras... kekekeke. »
With a simple snap of his fingers, he vanished into the ether.
At the exact second his body left this dimension, time resumed its course with the violence of a collapsing dam. Color exploded, the wind howled.
An indescribable cacophony filled the capital. Several people collapsed to the ground, vomiting in terror or screaming at the top of their lungs, traumatized by this temporal apnea.
In the arena, nobles fainted, Julius fell to his knees gasping for air, and Reinhard clenched his fists, struck down by his helplessness.
The courtyard was empty. Kurisu was gone.
In the space of one hour, the Royal Selection, the majestic Castle, and the entire nation of Lugnica had been broken and plunged into the darkest era of political and existential terror in their long history.