"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!"
"!!"
The pitch-black greatsword sliced violently through the air as it swung. Bell leapt aside, twisting his body to evade the lethal strike. The blade missed him by a hair's breadth, yet a sharp pain stung his cheek; the mere pressure of the passing edge had torn his skin. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he kicked off the soil to close the distance. Just as he raised his dagger, an instinctual hunch made him duck. A hurricane-like strike whistled directly over his head. Despite its massive size, the black monster moved with inconceivable speed. Before Bell could regain his footing, the greatsword was already descending upon him again.
Bell avoided the horizontal sweep by rolling across the floor, using his momentum to lunge toward the black beast. His sprint turned into a leap aimed at Asterius's face. The monster responded by thrusting the tip of the greatsword directly at Bell's midsection, attempting to impale him mid-air.
Bell twisted his body in flight, using Asterius's head as a platform to vault further. He spun behind the beast, aiming his dagger at its throat. Before the blade could bite into flesh, Asterius swung the sword backward without even looking. Driven by pure survival instinct, Bell retreated with rapid steps to create distance. In a flash, Asterius repositioned the massive weapon, while Bell—
"Firebolt!!"
Bell unleashed his quick-cast magic at point-blank range, giving his opponent no room to breathe. Thanks to his recent Level-up, the spell's speed and power had doubled. Although the strike hit the monster directly, the effect remained limited against a creature whose defense rivaled that of a Floor Boss. Nevertheless, the lightning-fast bolts filled Asterius's vision and erupted in a deafening explosion.
The blasts sent thick smoke billowing through the area, obscuring the battlefield. Bell seized the opening to charge back in. The disparity in power was undeniable; the beast was faster and hit harder than any opponent Bell had ever faced. Every time he evaded an attack, new wounds opened on his body until he was drenched in blood.
Yet, Bell did not stop. Asterius surged forward to meet him, and the two collided with a violent impact. Bell's dagger clashed against the black sword as both fought to tear the other apart, sending sparks flying. They traded blows in a desperate cycle of offense and defense, each strike carrying enough weight to shatter bone.
Bell avoided taking any blow directly, instead parrying and redirecting the monster's force while searching for an opening. He braved the storm of violent attacks and delivered a full-strength strike: three divine thrusts that combined the speed of the wind with the sharpness of lightning.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooh────!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa──!!"
Their war cries overlapped as a barrage of rapid stabs met crushing overhead swings. Amidst air that seemed to tear from the sheer intensity of the fight, Bell swung his blade with a roar. The silver metal carved paths through the air, and blossoms of red blood erupted. But the cuts were shallow; Bell's daggers were insufficient to deal a fatal blow. On the contrary, the sheer force of the black greatsword sent him flying backward.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuu!!"
A roar that summoned primal terror echoed through the Labyrinth. Asterius smashed the ground with his sword. Though Bell evaded the direct hit at the last second, the resulting shockwave hurled him against the blue quartz crystals of the walls. The air escaped his lungs, and he let out a stifled cry of agony.
A sharp pain radiated through his body as his consciousness began to flicker. There was a level of "cunning and skill" in this fight that the Minotaur from that day had not possessed.
────────── I can't win.
(He's strong... so incredibly strong──!!)
Bell realized it instinctively; if the fight continued this way, his defeat was inevitable. The gap in power was absolute—a true manifestation of the difference in Rank. No matter how brilliantly Bell used his skills, they were not enough to reach the beast. Logically, a Level 2 could not hope to battle Asterius, who surpassed even Level 6.
If Bell had not been killed instantly, it was only because Asterius had already sustained severe injuries at the hands of two elite adventurers, and because Bell was accustomed to fighting those far stronger than himself.
Because Bell had endured harsh training with opponents who surpassed him in strength, durability, and speed (Aiz Wallenstein), his eyes could just barely track Asterius's movements. Without that experience, he would have been torn to pieces long ago.
"?!"
Asterius swung his massive sword as if it weighed nothing. Bell struggled desperately to dodge the attacks that surged toward him like a raging cyclone, despite his obvious staggering. This could not last. His movements were losing their precision and grace. With a thunderous boom, the ground cracked, and Bell was thrown against a wall as rubble rained down around him.
Asterius gave him no respite, launching one attack after another. Bell twisted his body at the last moment to avoid a direct hit, but his shoulder was grazed. Strands of his hair floated in the air, mingling with droplets of crimson blood. Asterius's assault was savage; he did not rely solely on the sword, but used his massive body for headbutts and violent collisions. A single graze from such a strike could be lethal; a direct hit meant certain death.
Bell's body screamed in pain. He resisted the sharp, unending aches and continued to parry. As fragments of the cracked ceiling fell upon him, Bell searched for any opening to strike back, but he lacked the time even to fire a Firebolt. The relentless assault continued, the black blade scratching Bell's skin with every passing sweep.
With every movement of that black steel, Bell grew more exhausted. His bleeding worsened as the ferocity of Asterius's attacks reached its peak.
"...!!"
Bell's body began to turn red—but it wasn't just his own blood. It was the blood of Asterius, whose body could no longer heal itself. The beast was covered in wounds, and with every movement, blood sprayed from its hide, staining Bell. The monster was already on the verge of death, pushed far beyond its limits. It wouldn't have been surprising if it collapsed at any moment.
And yet, the beast did not stop. It would never stop.
Though it was unclear when he would fall, he roared, bellowed, and defended himself with a madness that suggested he was summoning his very soul.
Had Asterius not been in such a miserable state, Bell would have been defeated in──
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"
Despite knowing he had long since passed his limit, Bell let out a trembling cry, raising his dagger against the black sword that awaited him. Go beyond... faster, sharper, faster, and even faster─────! While evading the violent attacks and analyzing his enemy's movements with peak focus, Bell pushed his body toward new horizons of power.
Asterius braced his black sword to face Bell, and a series of strikes followed in a blurred haze. Bell gritted his teeth as he faced the thundering assault, desperately trying to endure and strike back. Asterius faltered slightly when he saw Bell's form, the boy trying to snatch victory from the jaws of the impossible.
"Ah, Fuuuuu!!"
The dagger, ignited with Firebolt, plunged into Asterius's body. The short blade, carrying an explosive flame, swung in a circular motion, leaving a trail of burning wounds on the massive black frame. Finally, a strike into which Bell had poured his entire soul pierced the monster's thick hide and reached its vitals.
The moment Bell relaxed slightly after landing that blow, Asterius lunged at him with raw, brute force.
The monster's massive frame launched like a projectile from point-blank range, intending to crush Bell. Bell jumped back in a split-second decision, but it wasn't fast enough. The beast swung its red-horned head, slamming into him and bypassing his defenses. Though the injury wasn't fatal, Asterius—who was suffering from undeniable wounds—charged Bell out of pure, unbridled rage.
"Guuuuuu, Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"
A cry shattered the stillness. Bell took the brunt of Asterius's charge and was slammed forcefully against the wall. A massive shock surged through his body; he felt as if his very organs would be forced from his mouth.
Bell flew, spinning like a top before hitting the ground. He tumbled several times before coming to a stop, coughing bitterly and spitting blood. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, Asterius charged toward him to deliver a violent kick.
"─────!!"
Bell responded quickly and raised his guard, but he could not dampen the force of the kick. It sent him hurtling toward the other adventurers' camp.
"Lady Hephaestus, I..."
Welf held in his hands the magic blade granted to him by the Goddess of his Familia; it was the sword Welf had forged himself and then abandoned. It was the very sword Hephaestus had ordered him to make immediately upon joining the Hephaestus Familia.
"I won't be a magic sword smith." I don't want to. That feeling hadn't changed. Welf hated and loathed magic blades; they were a cheap power that could defeat the strong simply by being forged—magical weapons that gave their users a hollow victory.
Furthermore, they eventually shatter, leaving the user alone without fulfilling their true duty as a weapon. This was something he could never forgive.
But at this very moment─────.
He pulled away the white wrapping, revealing a blade that glowed with a burning red light. As if responding to Welf's call, the red jewel embedded in it shone with a brilliant luster.
"..."
I will say it again: Welf Crozzo absolutely loathes magic blades.
But look at this death-match between the black bull and the white-haired boy; that "adventure" where both had revealed their very essence.
───Before such a battle, and at this late stage, if I cannot cast aside my stubbornness, then I am not fit to be Bell Cranel's personal blacksmith.
Welf looked at the boy who had just been thrown toward them by the bull's strike—the boy whose body was stained with blood, whose shattered limbs were trembling on the verge of collapse, and who yet gathered his strength to stand once more.
Welf threw that detestable magic weapon—the strongest and worst weapon he could forge—toward the boy in the midst of his "adventure."
"───Use it, Bell!!"
Asterius saw his destined rival rise and catch a sword emitting extraordinary power, thrown by a red-haired man who seemed to be his companion. Perhaps it was a sword that unleashed magic, just like the memories of his "past life." He realized easily that this sword was incomparable to the weak weapon he had faced earlier. Its power might even rival the strikes he had received from the wolf-man (Bete) and the cat-man (Allen) who had inflicted those many wounds.
It was certainly a troublesome weapon, but such tools had limits. If it were to produce enough firepower to defeat him, it would likely be a single-use strike. That strike was coming. With that certainty, Asterius took his combat stance.
───I will endure it and show you.
The wounds inflicted by the two powerful opponents, and by his rival Bell, pained him more than anything. Though he was near death, he wrapped his body in what remained of his magical energy as a shield, taking a suicidal defensive posture.
Asterius's greatsword—given to him by his mother, the "Labyrinth," based on memories of an ancient fight he longed for—did not reach the level of the "Black Greatsword" he had used in his previous battle. However, it rivaled the first-class weapons of high-ranking adventurers. He was confident that with this sword and his body, he could parry any blade.
He raised the greatsword like a shield to face the flaming blade coming toward him, prepared to take the hit with the steadfastness of a fortress. As Asterius steeled himself, he suddenly noticed something.
───Where are the wolf-man and the cat-man?
The two men who were supposed to be lying on the ground, pushed to their absolute limits, had vanished.
"──!!"
The eyes of the rampaging bull—Asterius—widened. The two men he was certain had been defeated, their bodies broken, rose once again without losing a shred of their fighting spirit.
Though they lacked the healing abilities of Asterius, and though blood continued to flow from their exhausted bodies without pause, they did not flinch or hesitate. They stood before him with steady, direct gazes.
"[── Hati]!!"
"Since the kid is showing such courage, it wouldn't be right for us to stay lying here!!"
"[── Noah Heal]"
Just like Bell, or perhaps even more exhausted than him, the elven warrior (Ryu Lion) consumed every last drop of her spiritual energy to cast a healing spell. It slightly eased the sharp pain ravaging Bell's body and sharpened his consciousness. Having exhausted her energy and truly lost consciousness this time, Bell handed her over to Lili and the others. His heart burned with renewed passion as he saw his comrades facing Asterius once again.
Bell gripped the crimson magic blade entrusted to him by Welf.
The magic blade he held was undoubtedly powerful, but Bell knew better than anyone that his opponent was not weak enough to fall to a single magic strike. Bell had no stamina left; his physical and spiritual strength were almost entirely depleted.
But──── [Argonaut].
This was Bell's trump card to turn the tables. He surrendered to those irrepressible, overwhelming emotions and began to use the skill. Bell gambled everything to overcome this trial. Despite surpassing his limits, his heart did not break; it continued to burn. The Argonaut skill, which consumes massive amounts of physical and spiritual energy, was a double-edged sword—his final card.
There would be no second chance; it was one shot and one shot only. After this strike, Bell would surely collapse.
Bell shook off all hesitation and stared at Asterius's massive frame, etching every detail into his mind. From the depths of his heart, as if burning his soul like the heroes he admired, and with absolute faith in himself to seize victory, Bell began to convert all his power into white particles and concentrate them.
"─────Fuuuuuuuuuh."
This time, after Asterius had resolved his stance against the two men, he began to walk toward Bell, who met him with a piercing gaze amidst the tolling of the Grand Tower's bells. The sound of the bells announced the approaching end of this battle. Asterius put all his strength into his left arm—the one not carrying the sword—and slammed it into the ground. He planted his feet firmly as if rooting himself in the soil and lowered his body into the stance of a beast on all fours.
The posture bore a striking resemblance to the final and most powerful attack a Minotaur shows when cornered, using its horns for a finishing blow.
A black charge carrying the full momentum of his body into the sword. A strike expected to be unleashed with all that weight—the secret technique he had developed in the final moments of his "past life." Blood-red eyes met a gaze full of fighting spirit, and Bell took a similar stance. He gripped the magic blade with both hands, his mind made up.
The bells of the Grand Tower echoed, and the white particles gathered into a concentrated light.
──── It was the "Heroic Strike."
"!!"
The person he looked up to was──── it went without saying (Aiz Wallenstein). Those feelings, wishes, prayers, dreams, and longings were all that sustained the boy named Bell Cranel.
"────"
By some coincidence, it was the same scene that had marked the end of his "past life." A rampaging bull brandishing a massive black sword against a white-haired boy brandishing a crimson blade. Tension thickened the air between them, and the two strikes—carrying everything they had—collided.
Time condensed, and their gazes locked. In the moment when will, heart, and soul intersected and everything merged──── ────────────!! As the tolling of the Grand Tower's bells ceased, the world's time resumed its flow.
──────── Once, long ago, there was a blacksmith named Crozzo.
Before the descent of the Gods, in the ancient times when monsters ruled the earth, that man risked his life to save a Spirit who was being attacked by monsters, sustaining fatal wounds. However, that Spirit gave him her blood; his wounds healed, and he gained a special power.
The name of that Spirit was Wulth, one of the powerful spirits of the ancient era.
The power gained by that man—who already possessed superior skills as a blacksmith—was the ability to forge magic blades.
Those magic blades carried a destructive power incomparable even to those made by the high-level blacksmiths blessed by the Gods of the modern era. The man's descendants were later able to recreate them after receiving divine blessings. It is said that the armies carrying the magic blades forged by that family were invincible, eventually inciting the wrath of the Spirits.
It is the ultimate magical weapon, said to have burned the seas.
The name of that blade is──── the Crozzo Magic Sword.
A single strike erupted like a massive torrent of flame, accompanied by the sound of the Grand Tower's bells, colliding with the black blade Asterius swung with his powerful arm.
────!!!
A massive explosion filled the field of vision with a deafening roar. White flames wrestled with black light, and the fire swallowed everything around it.
In that moment.
The boy realized that his ultimate strike had met the enemy's black blow, and they had shattered together.
However, the first to notice something strange was an adventurer who had not participated in the fight.
"What am I looking at?.."
Deep within the already shattered ceiling crystals, a darkness was pulsing, as if on the verge of birthing a new life.
That massive black shadow, far larger than the rampaging bull, was taking a distorted human form.
"──── A Black Goliath?"
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[100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
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