Chapter 215

There was one who walked upon the sky of crystal blue, and another who walked upon the river of blood.

It was a man who used his own flesh and skin as pages, densely engraving letters of blood upon them.

“…Is it truly necessary to go that far?”

Just then, the silent Black Knight spoke. Flap! Several night crows took flight from behind his back. As if prepared to unleash his power if necessary.

“This is no matter for the Black Lord to involve himself in.”

And blocking the Black Mage’s path was another spectator, the pinnacle of the White Mage Tower, the Celestial Mage.

“This is a duel agreed upon by both parties, and as such, it is protected by the laws of the Empire.”

“……”

“Ah, I won’t stop you from joining the fight.”

The Crimson Lord laughed, unconcerned.

“There’s nothing wrong with everyone here waging war for their respective rulers.”

The Shadow Camp and the Golden Camp.

“There’s no need for that, Count Black.”

Before the tense standoff, however, it was the Divine Sword Lancaster, the Grand Duke, who stood in the Black Count’s way.

“This is ultimately the karma I must bear.”

The pale, translucent blade of the Sky Piercing Sword in his hand scattered its sharp edge.

“I wanted to reach the heavens.”

“Your Highness…”

The Divine Sword—yet the man who truly deserved the name Heavenly Sword spoke. Revealing his avatar.

He was a knight of the heavens. A knight clad in armor shining like crystal, with wings of a bird. But he was never an angel.

Charlotte, standing beside Dale, swallowed softly.

“But my life was truly that of a prisoner, bound tight by the chains and shackles of the earth.”

“Huh.”

“An imperial noble, a father to my son, one of the Seven Swordsmen—yet none of that means anything to me now. Only then did I realize. That there was never any meaning to begin with.”

“So you’ve finally come to your senses.”

The blood-red orb laughed mockingly. By now, his body was covered so densely with engraved characters that it resembled nothing less than having his entire skin peeled away.

“It is merely time for me to return to the heavens.”

Cheon-geom said. And at the weight of those words, the Black Ball finally retreated quietly. The raucous crow cries echoing behind him grew faint.

Simultaneously, the blood-red river beneath the Blood-Red Gong began to ripple. The characters densely etched into his flesh spread across the river of blood, continuing to inscribe themselves along its entire length.

“I merely turn the wheel of history with my blood, silently.”

The Crimson Ball said.

“Just as I have done until now.”

With those words, the Heavenly Sword turned its back on the world above and plunged into the earth. The sword of the heavens swung along the Crimson Ball and the Crimson River, and the Crimson Ball stretched out its arm to meet it.

The empire’s foremost dark mage, as if to flaunt his power, ignited flames before everyone.

But faster than the flames could bloom, the Heavenly Sword’s blade sliced through his flesh.

Swoosh!

The bloodline was severed. The human body—it was torn to shreds beyond recognition, its very nature as human flesh lost.

Before a single sword stroke, that form collapsed.

Blood spattered everywhere.

At that very moment, a river of blood rippled, and blood flow surged upward, beginning to form a human silhouette. As if the attack had been a feint, it stood unscathed, not a single wound visible.

The Heavenly Sword plunged into the ground once more, aimed directly at that silhouette.

“To those present here, there is surely no need to expound on the importance of history.”

Yet each time, the flesh and bone of the Blood-Red Palace shattered, only to rise again.

“The history of the world is a history of war, and the history of war is a ‘record of bloodshed.'”

This statement did not refer to the history of any single race. Even the alien races dominating the continent today, and indeed the elves of the former Second Empire, were no exception.

Just like this very Blood Elf standing before Dale.

The moment he finished speaking, the Heavenly Sword surged forward, yet unlike before, the crimson orb did not fall to that single strike.

Clang!

A sword met the sword.

The existence of mortals is as fleeting as a sandcastle. Yet as long as history records them, their existence can finally grasp immortality.

“……!”

Cheon-geom’s expression finally froze.

“Now, shall we return to the landscape of history?”

With those words, the Blood-Red Orb laughed slyly. Somehow, it was no longer the river of blood.

──It was a white and dark winter night.

And before the Heavenly Sword, Duke Lancaster, stood a mortal who should have died long ago.

The Divine Sword, Bader Orhart.

“It was a distant past, already more than a dozen years gone by.”

Standing right behind that man, the Crimson Ball laughed.

“The fact that the Divine Sword was defeated and fell before the hero, that the Empire’s war of conquest finally came to an end—this is ‘recorded’ in the form of history. Written in the blood they shed.”

Simultaneously, the characters etched into the Crimson Duke’s flesh began to writhe and move like living creatures. And the letters written there were not strange, unrecognizable characters.

It was the Imperial language.

“In the XXX year of the Third Empire, the Divine Sword Badel Orhart was defeated by a hero from another realm.”

The words written across his chest changed as follows.

「The Third Imperial Force XXX, the Divine Sword Bader Orhart, has slain the Heavenly Sword, the Duke of Lancaster.」

“……!”

The very moment he grasped its meaning, Dale’s blood ran cold.

History is a record of blood. In other words, the Blood-Red Mage’s grimoire, the 『Book of Blood』…

The power to peruse that very record of blood, and to overlay the record itself according to the mage’s will.

The power to pull scenes from history and manipulate them by one’s own will. It was literally no different from manipulating history itself.

Just as Dale’s father had once imposed the very concept of ‘death’ itself, the power this man wielded was no mere spark.

“As you know, history is written by the victors.”

The blood-red orb smiled coldly as it spoke. A bloody history recorded by the victor spilling the loser’s blood.

He who controls the past controls the future.

Those who control the present control the past.

The nightmare-like landscape of a past he wished to forget was unfolding, manipulated exactly as the Crimson Ball intended.

Once the peerless friend of the Heavenly Sword Lancaster Duke and the continent’s foremost swordsman.

And Charlotte’s father.

“Father…!”

The dead man from history, the Divine Sword Bader Orhart, was swinging his sword.

It wasn’t even a ghost from the past. For it was never the ‘truth’ that Dale knew.

As a false bannerman loyal to the Golden Monarch, it was merely a fabrication—a lie created by manipulating and distorting the blood-stained records.

“Snap out of it, Charlotte.”

That was why Dale whispered to the girl beside him.

“That man is not your father.”

“But still…”

In a voice devoid of any emotion. At those words, Charlotte finally bit her lip.

“Ah, come to think of it, Miss Charlotte probably doesn’t know yet.”

The Crimson Ball chuckled maliciously, as if aware of this fact. Simultaneously, he waved his hand, and the characters inscribed on his flesh twisted once more.

Badel Orhart’s ‘helmet’ vanished. And beneath the helmet, the man’s face was finally revealed. Charlotte’s expression froze once more.

“What a truly moving reunion, impossible to witness without tears.”

The Crimson Prince spoke, and the divine sword struck the ground.

Toward his one and only old friend, the Heavenly Sword, Duke Lancaster.

KAAANG!

The swords clashed. And beneath the divine sword’s feet, a plum blossom field began to unfold. Seeing that, I could intuit it.

It was true that the Crimson Orb manipulated the past at will through the 『Book of Blood』. But that man, the sword itself wielded by Shin-geom Badel Orhart, was an undeniable truth.

The sword of an irreplaceable old comrade swung. The specter of the past, a historical ghost dancing to the ruler’s will, had been resurrected and was dancing.

The world of ideas unfolded by the Divine Sword Bader Orhart was indistinguishable from that of a mage, and at the same time, his avatar as a knight was so famous that there was no one who did not know it.

He had no avatar. His very being was the embodiment of his ideals, present here and now.

It was not without reason that the Divine Sword Bader was called the most noble knight in the world.

And that nobility had now become a false witness to history, dancing to the ruler’s will.

“Truly…”

The Divine Sword clashed with the Heavenly Sword.

“Your sword leaves no room for doubt.”

The Archduke of Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword, muttered bitterly.

A swirling plum blossom field swept into his sky. The Knight of the Sky swung his sword. It was a blade yearning for freedom and the heavens, and each time, the plum petals unfurled by the divine sword Badel became blades that scattered.

The continent’s finest swords clashed.

Yet compared to ‘Sir Badel of the Divine Sword in those days’, the Heavenly Sword Lancaster Duke before him now was merely an aged swordsman. The scales of victory had been tilted from the start.

Simply refusing to kneel until the very end, the Knight of Heaven swung his sword.

“Before I return to the heavens, I am glad to see your sword one last time.”

The divine sword Bader swung toward the knight of the heavens. No blood flowed. No flesh was torn.

Only the body vanished, leaving behind feathers scattered in disarray, dancing upward toward the sky on the wind.

“Your Highness, the Archduke…!”

Charlotte’s voice rose again in anguish. Dale silently reached out and clasped her hand. But it was at that very moment.

Thud!

Another blade pierced through the back of the divine sword, Bader, and sprang forth. How could one ever forget that sword?

The hero’s beloved sword, the Peacemaker.

The crimson-clad figure wielding the divine sword Badel was now inscribing yet another record.

“Year XXX of the Third Empire: The divine sword Badel Orhart was defeated by a warrior from another realm.”

“As I said, history is a record written in blood.”

Saying this, the Crimson Duke smiled.

Defeating the Duke of Lancaster, reborn as a divine sword, was never his role. For the Crimson Duke was a dead man from history, brought back from the past.

At that moment, the Divine Sword Badel knelt, and the hero from another world stood there. Clutching his beloved sword, ‘Peacemaker’.

“Father…”

Charlotte’s expression froze.

Charlotte’s ‘Two Fathers’ came to an end there. And the warrior from another world stared at us with an emotionless expression.

It was but a fleeting moment.

Simultaneously, the surrounding landscape faded away, and once again, a river of blood filled the area.

The man remained there.

The continent’s foremost dark mage, who had engraved the ‘Blood Record’ upon his own body while simultaneously executing the empire’s spirit of the age.

The Crimson Orb stared at Dale with an emotionless expression, and at the same time, a man stood blocking his path.

“The contest is over.”

The Black Orb opened its mouth, and the Crimson Orb smiled quietly.

The 『Book of Blood』 engraved upon the Crimson Orb’s body vanished. At that very moment, he realized.

The sea of blood filling this entire area was, in fact, the ink used to write that book.

And finally, the Crimson Prince withdrew his world, and the place had become the courtyard of Saxony Castle.

A cool breeze blew. And no matter where he looked, the Grand Duke of Lancaster was nowhere to be found.