Chapter 28: Rudeus & Mad Dog Master-Disciple vs Auber & Wii Taa

──── Wii Taa’s POV ────

I tried to press the pursuit against Ghislaine, but a blast of "Stone Cannon" shot up from the swampy ground. I barely dodged it, only for my sticky traps spread across the ground to be washed away by a surge of "Water Stream." So this one is the real obstacle after all…!

The armor I had cast off in the forest had been crudely adjusted to fit a build much larger than my small Migurd body. It was nothing more than a poor disguise, but it worked perfectly against the piercing power of "Stone Cannon," letting me fake my death by sacrificing one of the assassins.

With Eris poisoned, the swamp finally stepped forward to take her place, dragging him right into Auber’s reach.

"I’ll snatch the antidote from Auber. Eris, go to Ghislaine."

"...! Got it!"

Even the Mad Dog couldn’t disobey her husband’s words, and obediently withdrew.

"...Rudeus Greyrat, ‘Swamp’ of the Dragon God’s followers."

The swamp pressed his palm against his neck as he gave his name. …Was that some unique custom of his style?

"! My name is North Emperor ‘Peacock Blade’ Aub— ‘UOOOOOOOOHHHHN!’"

The moment Auber tried to respond in kind, a thunderous roar burst from the swamp, freezing his body in place.

"Stone Cannon!"

"Guh!? Nnn, uooohhhhhh!"

What cowardice! It wasn’t some eccentric custom at all—it was a feint to disguise the casting of "Roar Magic"! To launch a sneak attack during the sacred exchange of names…!

Thankfully, since the swamp wasn’t of the Beast Race, the spell was incomplete, leaving only a momentary paralysis. Auber thrust out his right hand, barely deflecting the "Stone Cannon" off-course, but the price was steep—his hand was left mangled, no longer able to properly grip a sword.

Reeling from the swamp’s threat, I forced down my panic and turned back toward Eris and the one-armed Ghislaine.

"You disgrace yourself, Ghislaine! How many times have you squandered your chance while wasting time on me!? The Mad Sword King is poisoned, and the swamp has been dragged out before Auber again—this time, his head might very well roll!"

"GRAAAAAH! GAHH! AAAHHHH!"

I provoked her like the Water God style, slipping inside her guard and leaving shallow cuts across her body.

It was Auber, my fellow disciple, who had shown me the way to rise to North King. By day, blinding light; by night, sinking into darkness. From a lower angle than my enemy, I could throw the battlefield into chaos. For someone like me, with the handicap of a small frame and lesser strength, this strategy perfectly bridged the gap.

But of course, it had its flaws. All it took was a single skilled enemy mage to break it apart. In battles where my illusions of light and shadow failed, I had been painfully reminded of the disadvantages of my stunted size.

After returning from the Holy Land of Swords, Auber had gathered us again and retrained us. To win even if our armor broke or a mage disrupted our tactics, he gave us more weapons in our arsenal. He modeled a technique after the legend of Lady Shiina the Death Knight, wife of the Second Generation and one of the North God’s Three Swordsmen. A style focused purely on evasion—what had once been using feints and shields to cover openings became avoidance itself. It was easy to pick up.

With a body no larger than a child’s of other races, I could press in close, at a distance where my opponent could barely swing their sword. But Ghislaine, with her left arm gone, her right eye sealed by an eyepatch hiding her demon eye, and blood pouring from her wounds, could do nothing. Eris, blocked by our overlapping positions, couldn’t attack either. A stalemate.

(Ghislaine is losing blood with only one arm. Eris is poisoned. Time is on my side—neither will reach Auber!)

The next instant, Ghislaine deliberately threw herself against my blade, letting it sink deep into her side. Ignoring what should have been a fatal wound, she seized me, trying to crush me in her grip.

"Gghhk—ghhh, Milady!"

"Damn you…! I won’t go down with you!"

Abandoning the sword stuck in Ghislaine, I twisted free from her arms. But then—though she should have been farther away—I heard the whistle of something slicing the air.

Eris, Auber’s final disciple and a North Saint…!

"Tchhh!"

The short sword at her waist flew past my ear as I dodged, tearing me away from Ghislaine’s grip.

"No—!"

Eris had turned her back on me and was sprinting toward the swamp and Auber! This is bad—Auber will be killed!

"I won’t let you! I won’t let youuuuu!"

I roared and chased after her… and realized my mistake.

With a sharp step, Eris pivoted, unleashing a "Silent Blade." Charging at full speed, I barely managed to throw myself headlong into a tumble to avoid it, but that was my limit.

Pinned between Ghislaine coming from behind and Eris in front, I desperately dodged their relentless assault, until finally Eris seized my leg.

"…Stop, don’t—"

"DAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Still gripping my leg, Eris swung me with all her strength and slammed me into the wall. My warped, blurred vision filled with the fists of the Sword Kings rushing toward me.

"Forgive me… Auber…"

A dull crack silenced my words.

──── Rudeus’s POV ────

This was my second one-on-one against Auber. Unlike the first battle, where I had complete knowledge of his hand, this time we had revealed a portion of our strategies to each other—and surprisingly, the fight was going in my favor.

Honestly, I had wanted to finish him with a sneak attack using "Roar Magic," but the advantage of having already disabled one of his arms was clearly significant.

I dodged thrown daggers with my foresight, repelled the Tears of Blood and Red Ink with "Shockwave," stopped his advance with "Swamp" and "Electroshock," and kept my distance with earthen spears.

Whenever there was an opening, I fired "Stone Cannon," leaving one-armed Auber completely unable to press the attack.

"To withstand even two exchanges at sword range… impressive, impressive. Rudeus of ‘Swamp’!"

Auber readjusted his stance and lunged forward.

"Now, the North God Style Secret Technique… ‘Oboro Juumonji’!"

He threw one sword forward with full force and floated the other gently upward.

I activated "Swamp" with Zarif’s prosthetic arm, knocking down the sword flying straight at me, and struck the charging Auber with "Electroshock."

With the "Four-Limbs Form," I crossed the swamp, grabbed the sword tossed into the air, cut through the "Electroshock," and closed the distance.

Auber blocked with his earthen shield, then used the impact to spin and toss another sword midair before drawing his last one. This was it!

Auber planted the drawn sword into the ground, hooking his foot over it as he landed, and avoided the counterattacking "Stone Cannon."

"…Huh?"

"Got it!"

He hooked his shattered right hand on the airborne sword, swinging it anyway despite further mangling his fist. I had completely lost in the mind game.

Thanks to his broken hand and the "Earthen Fort" I had improvised to reset the footing and force distance, I avoided instant death—but a deep slash tore across my chest, and a wave of overwhelming weakness hit me.

Auber, fearing I would heal the wound with magic, used the "Four-Limbs Form" to close the distance while moving nimbly across the unstable ground—a speed far surpassing the Snow Drakes I struggled with as an adventurer. Does this guy have suction cups on his hands and feet or something?

He spun, slicing off Zarif’s prosthetic arm, and followed through with a roundhouse kick.

As I had foreseen, my prosthetic arm was severed. Had he felt my weakness from the earlier strike? His roundhouse kick came without hesitation, enough power to break my neck.

I couldn’t dodge or block in time—but severing Zarif’s arm didn’t mean losing my real left arm. Hidden within the prosthetic, I had already formed a "Stone Cannon" in my living left fist.

"Guh!?"

The motionless "Stone Cannon" shot straight into Auber’s chest, and I sealed his final struggle with "Electroshock." After confirming his movements had completely stopped, I used healing magic to stop the bleeding.

Auber’s death face… was serene, as if he had no regrets at all.