Chapter 97 - Hero Keisuke, Twenty-Five Years Old 4
Then, the surrounding knights suddenly began to buzz with commotion.
What on earth were they thinking, going out of their way to accept the enemy's invitation to a duel? They argued that they should surround him and finish him off.
"The noise is irritating."
Shall we change locations? I asked Zagart.
The giant troll shook his head in silence.
He was asserting that staying here was fine.
He believed that, beside the people clamoring to surround me, I would uphold the oath of our duel to the end.
Why could he trust me so much, despite us only meeting for the first time?
I didn't know the reason.
Even so, I felt as though I had connected with Zagart on some deep level.
"Rest easy. I won't let the onlookers interfere."
I told the surrounding knights that they were not to interfere.
Perhaps thinking I was intoxicated by the prospect of a fair and square fight, the men kept their mouths shut, though they wore mocking expressions.
The surroundings were enveloped in silence.
Whether Zagart was satisfied,
"I thank you,"
he said briefly.
That was enough.
From here on, words were unnecessary.
It was a time of pure struggle, a warrior's honeymoon where blades spoke to blades.
I set my Light Sword in a mid-level guard and slowly closed my slightly spread legs.
It was to prevent myself from injuring my own body.
This was a story from when I had only just arrived in this different world.
There were several times when I would slash an enemy with brute force, only to wound my own left inner thigh with the follow-through of the blade.
I remembered reading in a historical novel my Oyaji owned that this was a common blunder made by young soldiers.
It was a self-inflicted accident common among new recruits.
As for how to prevent it, one simply had to ensure their own limbs did not enter the sword's trajectory.
Naturally, I stopped moving around with a bow-legged gait, and it became more like a Kendo stance.
Is this how one settles when continuing to fight with a sword specialized for cutting?
Or did the blood of a Japanese person flowing within me guide me to this stance?
I didn't really know the reason.
The only certain thing was that ever since I learned this way of moving my body, I had been undefeated.
I shook my wrist in small increments, gauging the timing to step in.
The swaying, undulating movement helped me keep count in my head.
At the same time, the swaying tip had the effect of disrupting the opponent's concentration.
Indeed, I could see Zagart's gaze following the tip of the Light Sword.
It was my own unique swordsmanship, a mixture of the swordsmanship of my homeland that remained faintly in my memory and the experience I had polished in actual combat.
It was a sorrowful technique, reflecting a craving: I want to go back to Japan. I don't want to die.
In contrast, Zagart held a composed stance, likely possessing absolute confidence in his physique and muscular strength.
He spread both legs wide, firmly planting himself upon the land of his homeland.
Everything is the exact opposite—
While thinking such things, I kicked off the ground.
This place is not Mother Earth or anything of the sort. Since it's more like a stepmother to me, I can kick it without hesitation.
As I heard the sound of the ground denting with a thud, I let out a short breath.
"—Hah!"
With a single burst of spirit, I swung my sword in a horizontal slash.
At the same time, Zagart's battle axe swung downward.
The blade of the Light Sword, generated by magic, has no mass.
Unless the blade is infused with magic in the same way, a clash of blades is impossible.
Whatever object touches this sword will be severed.
"...Ngh!"
I saw Zagart's axe being sliced clean in two.
This must be his first time fighting an opponent with the [Skill: Divine Sword].
He seemed unable to hide his surprise at the sharpness that could even tear through a steel battle axe.
Even if only for a fleeting moment, the enemy was taken aback.
—An opportunity.
I immediately swung my sword from bottom to top, launching a follow-up attack.
However, my opponent was also a skilled warrior.
He showed agile movements unbefitting his thick body, and he evaded by a hair's breadth.
"Oooooooooooooooooh!"
Zagart let out a beast-like roar as he slammed the chipped axe into the ground.
The impact shook the ground beneath my feet, and my posture crumbled.
Not a bad move.
After all, his axe is as tall as a person.
Even if its performance as a blade is ruined, its function as a blunt weapon remains.
If he strikes the ground with that using a troll's foolish strength, he can cause a minor earthquake.
As my footing became unsteady, Zagart launched a desperate charge at me.
The axe was, as expected, swung above his head. He likely intended to smash it against my crown.
Most of his attacks are downward swinging motions.
It is a way of fighting that utilizes the weight of himself and his weapon—that is, the gravity of this world.
It was a method I could not imitate.
My body is by no means large. I have wrapped muscles trained after the fact around a once-slender skeletal structure. Only then did I achieve a physique comparable to an average warrior.
Surely, my innate aptitude was not that of a warrior.
I have a body made to live peacefully somewhere in Japan, yet I am playing the role of a Summoned Hero.
Born in a different place than this, I am being forced to live a life different from my true aptitude.
I am not blessed by this world. I am a cursed foster child, shunned by the Mother Earth.
That is precisely why I resist.
As if defying gravity. As if saying I have no need for such help.
I swung the massless sword of light from bottom to top.
With a swordsmanship that shouldn't exist in this world, faster than anything else—
Faster than Zagart's axe falling from above.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster—!
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"Gooooooooooooooooh!"
The moment Zagart and I crossed, there was a distinct sensation of the sword cutting through flesh.
While steadying my grip on the sword, I quietly turned around.
Looking, I saw that Zagart's arms had been severed from the elbows down, and they lay at his feet while he was still gripping the axe.
"...Splendid."
The giant troll sank heavily to his knees.
The victory was decided.
Before the duel began, this guy had said it.
That if he were to lose, I could do as I pleased.
I looked into Zagart's eyes, trying to read his emotions.
However, from those murky yellow eyes, I could find neither fear nor resignation. No one knew what this man was thinking.
"...Kill him."
As I hesitated over Zagart's fate, someone muttered.
It was one of the knights who had been watching our fight.
"Please kill him, Hero-dono."
"The opponent is a man-eating ogre!"
"Kill him! ...Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
Surrounding the demi-human who had lost his will to fight, countless knights repeated the "kill him" call.
It was a bizarre sight.
A grand chorus of hatred and resentment.
"...Do you also eat humans?"
To my question, Zagart answered, "Yes."
"We are made that way. If we do not eat human flesh, we cannot survive this winter."
In that case, he is a natural enemy of humanity. There is no reason to let him live.
But this man saw me as a fellow warrior and performed a magnificent duel.
He was a man who had faced a great army alone to protect the den of his kin.
I...
My choice is...
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
"Kill him! If the Hero-dono won't do it, I will!"
Zagart nodded quietly, and then he laughed.
"Strike me down. If you let me live, it will likely put you in a difficult position."
"...Why were you born as a troll? If you were a human, how much you would have been saved."
"And you—why were you born as a human?"
...No doubt about it.
"Why does it always end up like this?" I thought with a bitter smile as I decapitated Zagart.
The cheers of the knights rose, and the troll hero turned into a silent corpse.
It was also a moment where something else died inside me.
Every time I defeat a monster, I become a slightly different version of myself.
The heart that was Keisuke Nakamoto is being overwritten by a Hero who possesses no personality.
Elsa.
I want to see Elsa.
If I don't hold her in these arms again, I won't be able to remain human.