Chapter 21: Interlude — Just Alicia

I used to envy Thomas-san. The way he could be himself, the fact that there were people who accepted him—every bit of it stirred both admiration and jealousy in me.

I am a Saint, and he is a Sword King. We should both be bound by our roles, yet I could never fully accept how differently we lived within them. His words and actions grated on me. Perhaps the only reason I managed to hide it was because I had already spent half my life living as a Saint—how ironic.

But… I take back what I said about envy. I have no choice but to, after witnessing what lies before me.

To envy someone means thinking, “I want to be like that.” But looking at him now… I could never feel that way.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!"

"Shouting to rouse yourself—commendable. But on a battlefield, it only reveals your position."

The sight of Thomas-san charging at the Captain, a holy sword gripped in one hand, was painfully distressing. His entire body was covered in wounds, drenched in blood. It would be faster to find a spot that wasn’t stained red.

This is a dream world, not reality. But that doesn’t mean there’s no pain. If a bone breaks, you can’t move it. If your breathing stops, the suffering is unbearable.

In fact, his left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and from the way he coughed up blood, he must have suffered injuries severe enough for it to enter his airway.

Even so, he stood against the Knight Commander—someone far stronger than him. No… he wasn’t standing by choice. He was being forced to stand, because if he didn’t, it would all end.

"Sha!"

Thomas-san let the holy sword in his right hand take on a dark sheen—and in the next instant, he hurled it at the Captain. As the Captain knocked the flying blade aside, Thomas-san rushed in to close the distance, only to be met with a downward swing of a greatsword.

Lowering his stance until he was nearly scraping the ground, Thomas-san evaded the strike. Sliding forward, he slipped beneath the Captain’s legs and reached toward the holy sword. Using the pull of dark magic along with the blade’s own ability, it returned to his hand at a speed far beyond normal.

"—Hm!?"

"RAA!!"

Passing beneath the Captain also meant the sword’s return path crossed his legs. As it flew back, it slashed them, slowing his movement—a tactic I had never seen Thomas-san use before. He was desperately grasping for any advantage, trying to meet the conditions needed to clear this training.

Without pause, he used the momentum to spring upward like a rearing horse, swinging the blood-stained holy sword toward the Captain. The Captain stepped back to evade, but not completely—blood burst from his chest as his expression tightened.

Ordinarily, armor would have protected them. But during this training, both fought without any equipment. The result was a gruesome scene—blood everywhere, its metallic stench so thick it threatened to numb my senses.

Amid it all, the two men—so different in height—focused only on each other, their swords clashing again and again.

But even with magic enhancing him, Thomas-san couldn’t match the Captain’s superior strength and technique. He was struck down repeatedly—slammed into the ground, into trees—spitting blood as he scrambled away to avoid follow-up attacks.

A greatsword crashed down moments later. A single delay in reaction would mean certain death.

"Hah… hah…"

Even as he gasped for breath, he did not lose his will to fight, raising the holy sword once more. Watching him now, I could no longer feel envy.

I was chosen to become a Saint from childhood. I underwent harsh training to freely wield light magic. Magic is not something mastered overnight.

You must first perceive mana, learn to control it, and form an image suited to its attribute. Light and dark magic, in particular, are notoriously difficult to visualize, making them especially hard to use. Though they are opposing elements, their difficulty is the same.

That’s why I understand—though he uses the holy sword as a medium, Thomas-san has already begun to wield magic. He has talent.

But more than that… this environment is forcing him to use it.

If he fails to master it, he dies. No—death sends him back to the beginning. The fear surpasses death itself, driving him to cast magic.

How much pain, how many deaths, does it take to reach such a state? There were times he died without being able to do anything… so how can he still resist like this?

The effort I spent becoming a Saint—he must compress all of that into this short time as a Sword King. It’s so brutal it makes me nauseous just to watch.

"Ha!"

"Mm!?"

Thomas-san swung his broken left arm using centrifugal force. From his hand, countless pebbles flew, hurled with enhanced strength.

The Captain, likely not expecting anything from the broken arm, hastily raised his greatsword as a shield to block them.

But that alone fulfilled Thomas-san’s goal—obscuring his vision. In that instant, he leapt into the trees with his enhanced physical ability. Like a monkey, he darted from branch to branch, vanishing into the foliage.

Despite his agile movement, his face was drenched in cold sweat, twisted in a pain I had never seen before.

Of course it was. Though I could barely see it, he wasn’t stabilizing his broken arm or holding it in place. It swung freely. Moving through dense branches, it would inevitably strike against them.

Even in pain—no, because of it—he had to keep moving, searching for or creating an opening. That meant he had to keep thinking constantly, even through that suffering.

For someone who was just an ordinary person until recently… that should be impossible. And yet, he didn’t utter a single complaint.

I couldn’t believe that way of thinking belonged to a human. It even filled me with fear—and that feeling would not leave me for the duration of this battle.

And yet, despite my thoughts, the situation continued to shift.

"Hoh."

Perhaps realizing he couldn’t find an opening, Thomas-san began cutting branches as he leapt through the trees. Naturally, the severed branches fell toward the Captain.

Without dodging or blocking them, the Captain simply protected vital areas like his eyes and looked upward.

"—!!!"

At that moment, Thomas-san—who should have been in the trees—burst out from the forest behind the Captain.

Yet branches were still falling. Confused, I looked up—and saw a mass of branches suspended in the air, slowly dropping.

Later, I learned the truth. While moving through the trees, he had gathered branches little by little. Using the holy sword infused with dark magic as a core, he bound them together with gravitational force, then hurled the sword high into the sky with all his strength.

Naturally, the sword would fall. But once released, the branches—freed from the weakening pull—began to drop gradually, creating the illusion that he was still above, drawing the Captain’s attention upward.

"Impressive."

Thomas-san drew a concealed dagger and lunged to stab the Captain. The Captain noticed at the last moment—and though he could have dodged, he chose not to.

"—Tch!!"

"Too slow!!!"

The instant the blade pierced him, Thomas-san’s face twisted in shock as he tried to retreat—but he was too late. The Captain swung his greatsword. Thomas-san attempted to raise the holy sword—just returning to his hand—as a shield…

…but it didn’t make it in time.

His face split open, crimson spreading across it.

"Ghk—GYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!?!?!?"

Looking closely as he screamed, the wound itself wasn’t deep. But his left eye had been crushed—half his vision gone.

The pain must have been unimaginable. Perhaps it even brought back all the agony he had been desperately enduring until now—he writhed on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

"Do you have time to lie there?"

Even faced with such a horrific sight, the Captain pressed the attack. Thomas-san barely managed to evade the greatsword as it came crashing down, rolling desperately across the ground.

Where the blade struck, it left a massive crater. In his current state, there was no way Thomas-san could have blocked it. Whether he judged that consciously or realized it instinctively, his mind had not stopped.

Either way, it was proof that the countless battles he had endured were finally bearing fruit.

And yet… it still wasn’t enough to reach the man before him.

"Gh… ggh…!! Hah… hah…!!!"

Blood and tears streamed from his eye, dripping heavily as he raised the holy sword again.

Just one more hit—if he could land a single decisive blow on the Captain, he would earn treatment… and a brief moment of rest.

That alone was what drove him forward now.

Even so, he didn’t rush recklessly. He understood that without thought, he couldn’t bridge the gap between them.

He had already used every ambush, every trick at his disposal. There was nothing left in reserve. Though the holy sword boosted his physical abilities beyond the Captain’s, in every other aspect, he was outmatched.

"Hah… hah… hah… … HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!"

Steadying his breath, he moved.

Without any feint, he dashed forward—then, just before entering the Captain’s range, he leapt high into the air.

At some point, a dagger had found its way between his teeth.

Of course, if I could see it, so could the Captain. With no deception, no diversion, the Captain calmly readied himself.

I remembered him saying before that he was weak against attacks from above—likely because a greatsword is difficult to maneuver that way. Even so, leaping straight up like that was clearly a terrible idea, even to an amateur like me.

The moment I thought that—

Something red poured down over the Captain’s face.

Blood.

Thomas-san had thrown his holy sword even higher—and with the dagger clenched in his mouth, he stabbed it into the base of his own left arm, into his shoulder—the arm he could no longer move.

Naturally, the moment he pulled the blade free, blood burst from his shoulder, drenching the Captain below.

With the Captain’s vision obstructed, Thomas-san immediately recalled the holy sword to his hand—and brought it down in a powerful strike.

"Ugh!!"

"—Guh!?"

The holy sword pierced the Captain cleanly.

Thomas-san had earned his rest—and his treatment.

But perhaps he hadn’t thought about the landing. He crashed into the ground with a sickening impact that echoed around us.

Another bone must have broken.

Unable even to groan, he curled up on the ground, blood and tears spilling freely.

"Hoo… hoo… Very well, we’ll take a short break. Saint-dono, tend to His Majesty’s wounds."

"Y-Yes!!"

At those words, I rushed to his side and began treating him. His entire body was covered in injuries—it would take at least ten minutes just to restore him enough to move.

"Th… thanks…"

Even so, he thanked me—and even managed a faint smile.

Looking at Thomas-san, I couldn’t understand why someone so kind had to suffer like this.

He should be the one crying… and yet, I found myself in tears.

But it wasn’t just because I was worried about him.

There was also an ugly thought within me—that I was relieved this wasn’t happening to me.

And I hated that part of myself more than anything.