Extra in a Romance Fantasy - Chapter 141
141 – Legend (10)
Despite being in a completely desperate situation, Baran did not simply give in.
Using only his right arm, he countered the joint assault of the Silver Knight and Blood Flame, all the while seeking an opportunity to take Kahim’s life.
Most of his attacks were blocked by the Silver Knight and Blood Flame, but there were moments when he nearly severed Kahim’s breath.
However, though he was injured and exhausted, his opponents were two martial artists who had reached the same level of intent.
With one arm bound and unable to move, facing them was a fight so disadvantageous that hoping for victory was utterly impossible.
As a result, Baran was brutally cut down by the swords of the two martial artists, ending his life.
Until the very moment his breath ceased, he glared at Kahim with wide, furious eyes.
“…Tch.”
Seeing Baran’s eyes still bloodshot, Kahim clicked his tongue.
What lingered on that face was a deep sense of regret and anger.
It wasn’t the death of Baran itself that he regretted.
Kahim was lamenting the fight itself.
The fact that he couldn’t defeat Baran with his own strength and had to borrow the power of another.
And then.
“Tch, just when I thought I could see it.”
The glimpse of the realm “beyond the wall” that had appeared for a moment had once again receded into the distance.
Death, when it approaches, tends to ignite human potential.
And the greater the talent one possesses, the more dramatic the effect tends to be.
The genius talent that Kahim, the warrior, possessed exploded with potential as the blade hung over his neck, showing him for an instant the scenery beyond the wall.
Thanks to that, Kahim was able to see Baran’s attacks and evade them, even with his body in disarray.
Had it not been for that, he would have likely died long ago and would not have had the chance to easily bring Baran down like this.
No, perhaps he could have been the one to fall to Baran instead.
But now, with the fight over, the fleeting vision of the scenery beyond the wall had blurred.
As if what he had seen then had been an illusion.
Baran felt a profound sense of regret about that fact.
About not being able to cross the wall even after having seen the scenery beyond it.
However.
“…Well, there’s no rush.”
Kahim shook his head a few times to shake off that regret.
Though he had failed to cross the wall right now, he had at least succeeded in catching a glimpse.
With that vision as a clue, he was confident that he would soon be able to cross the wall.
A certainty directed towards himself, towards his own talent.
“Are you alright?”
At that moment, there were those approaching Kahim, who was lost in thought.
The silver knight and the blood flower.
“It doesn’t seem like you need to ask, though.”
“…That’s true.”
The silver knight, who had been expressing concern for Kahim, nodded at the words of Bloodfire that followed.
Without needing to ask, Kahim’s condition was dire.
In addition to fatal wounds, he had dozens of smaller injuries, and to top it all off, he had been pierced by a sword.
It was a horrific state, so close to a miracle that he was still standing.
For anyone with a weak stomach, just the sight of him could induce fainting.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“Thanks to that, it was easy to handle.”
The silver knight and Bloodfire offered calm praise as they looked at Kahim.
As they said, if Kahim hadn’t made a choice that was practically sacrificial, defeating Baran would have been no easy task.
Both of them knew this well, and their words were filled with sincerity.
However, the moment of praise was short-lived.
“…It would be better to treat the wounds quickly.”
“You’re right. First, the potion…”
Kahim’s condition was serious, and it was obvious that leaving him in that state would only lead to further deterioration.
Thus, they decided that treating his wounds took precedence over their lighthearted conversation.
But then.
“Hmph. You’re worrying for nothing.”
Kahim scoffed, wearing a nonchalant expression.
And then.
Swish!
He pulled the sword embedded in his body out himself.
“…!”
“What the…!”
Even the silver knight and Bloodfire couldn’t help but be shocked by the sight.
There was no way they could be unaware that pulling out a blade lodged in one’s body, especially in such a condition, was akin to a death wish. Unless, of course, a skilled priest was nearby.
However.
Fortunately, no serious situation unfolded.
Panah, who had appeared by Kahim’s side, began pouring the potion over his wounds.
“Another crazy thing you’re doing.”
As she treated his injuries, Panah glared at Kahim with icy, piercing eyes.
“Is this enough to make a fuss?”
But Kahim brushed off his younger brother’s gaze as if it were nothing significant.
Then, with a natural motion, he began to use his magic to staunch the bleeding from his wounds.
“…What should I say?”
“…You seem out of your mind.”
The two warriors watching Kahim’s series of actions shook their heads in disbelief.
Certainly, Kahim was a remarkable warrior deserving of attention based solely on his skills, but they secretly thought that it might be his actions or personality that were even more exceptional.
Meanwhile, as Kahim was tending to his wounds, he looked down at the sword he had just pulled from his own body.
“…Hmm.”
The Hero’s Sword.
It was the reason he had come here, and the reason most warriors had gathered in this place.
However, when the silver knight had infused it with magic for verification, he had said something.
That the efficiency of the magic was abysmal.
Suuu—
To confirm, Kahim channeled his magic into the sword.
Pana’s gaze sharpened at that action, but Kahim paid it no mind.
Soon, the magic extending from Kahim flowed into the sword.
“……”
And immediately, Kahim realized.
The sword’s magic efficiency was indeed at a very poor level.
“…So it really is a fake.”
Kahim concluded.
This sword was probably a counterfeit.
In fact, just looking at the circumstances, it was evident.
This place, this tomb itself, was undoubtedly a part of Baran’s elaborate scheme.
If that were the case, it was only right to view this sword as bait to lure people in.
In other words, this sword was a fake.
Reaching that conclusion, Kahim felt a twinge of disappointment.
After all, the very reason he had come here was for the Hero’s Sword.
Yet, the fact that the sword he had obtained through unexpected hardship was a fake was, understandably, not a pleasant realization.
“…Well. It can’t be helped.”
However, the degree of disappointment was never that great.
From the beginning, wanting to obtain the Hero’s sword was merely a matter of curiosity.
For a swordsman, a legendary sword might be an object that could make one’s eyes spin, but for Kahim, who did not use weapons, even if it were the real Hero’s sword, it would be of no use at all.
“Well then, we should be on our way.”
“There are still things to take care of.”
Perhaps thinking that Kahim had found some stability, the Hero and Bloodfire immediately turned their bodies.
As they said, it was not a situation to be dazed in just yet.
Although they had eliminated the significant threat known as Baran, fighting was still ongoing outside.
Not long after the Silver Knight and Bloodfire left the scene, Kahim suddenly rose from his seat.
“Stay still. Moving like that will only make things worse.”
Pana tried to restrain him, but—
“Enough. This is sufficient.”
Kahim did not listen.
It wasn’t that he was being reckless.
Kahim was confident.
Even in this state, he was sure he could handle such monsters without difficulty.
“……Hah.”
Pana glared at him with a look of disbelief, but she did not try to stop him any further.
She knew better than anyone that her brother was not the type to heed warnings.
In any case, just as Kahim was about to step outside the altar—
“…Hmm?”
Feeling a faint sense of discomfort in his grip, Kahim stopped and looked down at his hand.
More precisely, at the Hero’s sword he was still holding.
*
He had swung the sword dozens of times.
And he had beheaded Arminanon at least that many times.
However, the creature’s regeneration showed no signs of stopping, and each time he struck, it would immediately regrow its head, displaying a perfectly intact appearance.
And in the process, the surrounding damage was gradually accumulating.
I couldn’t completely block the lightning that the creature emitted.
Above all, the biggest problem was that I was gradually growing weary.
There are limits to my stamina, magic, and willpower.
Even though I had reached a new level where wielding the sword felt natural, the consumption was no joke.
‘…What should I do?’
I thought.
No, in fact, my thoughts didn’t stop even while I was beheading Arminanon.
To find out the conditions for its regeneration.
To discover a way to stop its revival.
I tried beheading Arminanon in different ways, depending on the methods that came to mind at the time.
But there were no results.
And I couldn’t figure out a way to kill Arminanon.
Anxiety began to rise.
As time passed, my chances of winning diminished.
For now, I could endure, but the moment I couldn’t keep this creature in check, it would truly be the end.
Knowing that, my expression rarely softened.
Then it happened.
“Perhaps I could kill Arminanon by splitting it in two!”
From noble mtl dot com
A voice I wasn’t familiar with reached my ears.
Turning my gaze toward the direction of the voice, I saw an elderly man with wispy white hair.
I immediately recognized the identity of the old man.
He was a scholar from the ‘Scholars of Alundel’ dispatched to this place.
Despite the dangerous situation, the old man had deliberately approached me.
Perhaps to convey something.
Noticing that my gaze had landed on him, the old man spoke again.
“The legends surrounding Arminanon are varied! There are dozens of different legends! But in every legend, the way a hero defeats Arminanon is the same!”
The legends of heroes are so numerous that it’s hard to count, and even within a single legend, there are various variations.
Especially in the case of a well-known legend like Arminanon, there are quite a few differing details among the legends.
Just from what I know, there are several.
However, recalling the old man’s words, I realized that indeed, the way a hero finishes off Arminanon is the same across all accounts.
The warrior’s swift strike cleaved Arminanon in two, bringing the tale to its conclusion.
“…….”
To be honest, it was a story too lacking to serve as evidence.
Legends are, quite literally, legends, and it’s impossible to know what exaggerations or fabrications might be mixed in.
However.
There was no other way to attempt this.
Thus, I tightened my grip on the sword.