Chapter 44

"...You've come to, huh, Rex-kun."

The Sword Saint awoke to find himself inside a carriage.

"...Haa, thank goodness. Thanks to you surviving, humanity's just barely hanging on by a thread."

The Sword Saint became aware of his critical condition through the unbearable pain. He had lost his right arm, his lungs were damaged—his survival was nothing short of miraculous. And yet, Rex had survived and was now lying in a military carriage.

"I saw you get blasted away and ran to recover you in a panic, so show a little gratitude, would you? ...Well, we lost the battle, but as long as you're alive, there's still a next time."

"I... I lost?"

"You fell for a fake death, and got hit from behind. Pretty pathetic, huh? Maybe 'Sword Saint' is just an empty title."

Rex's consciousness slowly sharpened. His surroundings came into focus—his missing arm, his battered body, and Mino’s cold expression.

"You should be grateful to that kid who gave you the lily ornament. ...You would've died instantly, but that little thing saved your life."

"Instantly? Wait, no. That ornament had already been used—it shouldn't have worked."

"Used ones wither, you know. That flower was still fresh. Maybe that merchant kid knew exactly what they were doing when they gave it to you. A miracle that wasn't supposed to happen feels like a heavy debt—you won't forget it. Clever kid. I wouldn’t be surprised if they really do become a great merchant someday."

Looking down, Rex saw the ornament pinned to his chest had wilted and shriveled up. It seemed he now owed that boy his life.

"As for your arm, in your current condition, I can’t regrow it yet. Once you're a bit stronger, I’ll grow it back for you."

"You can regrow it?"

"If it's me, yes. ...But if I do it now, your body won’t survive the strain. So rest a while first."

Apparently, even his arm could be restored. Rex felt a wave of relief. Then he looked around the carriage—

And realized no one else from his party was there.

"Where’s Flache? Mei? Karin?"

"...Who knows?"

"'Who knows'!? What do you mean, who knows!? What happened to them!?"

"No idea. They were your party members, weren’t they? The national army said from the start they wouldn’t provide guards or recovery support."

"Don’t tell me... you left them behind!?"

Mino’s voice was cold, almost dismissive.

Rex’s eyes widened. He sat up and shouted at the emotionless strategist, grabbing her collar—

"This happened because you let your guard down."

She cut him off coldly.

"I made it clear, didn’t I? That Karin and Mei were unnecessary for this mission. You insisted on bringing them."

"...Still, abandoning them... you..."

"And another thing—I told you. If you lost, your party would be used as a decoy for our retreat. That was the deal."

"Don’t screw with me! Don’t you dare screw with me!"

"The one screwing around here is you!"

And then—

For the first time, Mino struck Rex across the face with unrestrained fury.

"We could’ve won. If you'd just cut down that little demon swordswoman—friend or not—your whole party would still be alive and with us!"

"...Ah."

"Don’t run from it. This is the weight you have to carry. Stop trying to make someone else the villain just to ease your own guilt."

"That’s not true, I—"

"If you're lucky... maybe one of them managed to escape to the capital. If that happens, I’ll let you know. But for now, you need to sleep."

It was a face Rex had never seen before. The best strategist humanity had to offer—always smiling, always aloof, no matter how intricate her schemes—was now openly furious.

...She was right. Rex finally realized it.

Mino had done nothing wrong. Her strategies had been sound, and the defeat at the Northeastern Fortress wasn’t her fault.

Not knowing the enemy’s strength, she sent their top asset, Clarise, into battle. They still lost. That wasn’t a miscalculation.

In fact, the real mistake was Rex’s—he knew “Kazenagi” was among the enemy, and he kept that information to himself. That omission cost them everything.

He was the one who had endangered his party. He was the reason they were left behind.

"...Thanks for treating me, Mino. But I’m going."

Mei, Karin, Flache—the faces of his companions, his family, flashed through his mind.

More than anyone, they were his only home. Not bound by blood, but a bond of trust and love deeper than any tie.

"...What?"

"Their lives matter more to me than my own. You got me back on my feet—thanks, Mino."

Ignoring pain no ordinary man could endure, Rex stood up.

He had to protect them. He must protect them.

If he couldn’t, then a Sword Saint like him had no reason to live.

"Hold on. What do you think you can possibly do in your condition—"

"As long as I have one arm, I can fight."

"You idiot...! Do you really think your party would be happy, knowing the man they bought time for is now running back to die!?"

"Shut up. I won’t let my guard down again. Next time, I will win."

"Face it. You already—"

"Shut up!!"

With a furious roar, Rex leapt from the carriage, blood-soaked bandages whipping loose as he landed on the earth below.

"If they’re not out there—then there’s no damn reason for me to be alive!"

Ah, how foolish. More than anyone, he was lonely. A man who feared solitude more than death itself. And without even listening to Mino’s protests, he dashed back into the forest.

He didn’t even carry a sword. He punched aside the soldier who tried to stop him, shattered the carriage from the force of his movements, and the Sword Saint vanished beyond the distant horizon.

All that remained behind was the stunned strategist, wide-eyed, and a wrecked vehicle.

"...All units, halt. Seriously... seriously, that idiot!! Are all men just incapable of acting with anything other than emotion!? Mello, Rex—every last one of them, nothing but reckless fools!!"

She had expected this. That once Rex woke up, he might try to return to the battlefield.

She thought she was prepared to talk him down.

But a rational strategist couldn’t fathom that someone would still run off—even after hearing their companions had bought them time with their lives.

"Haa... Flache stayed behind and risked her life to buy him time, and now it’s all for nothing..."

That quiet murmur—just how much feeling had it truly carried?

"...I’ll bet on that idiot somehow making it back here with his party in tow. All units, standby."

And so Mino, exasperated, watched the pitiful sight of the Sword Saint sprinting off into the distance.


"You sure talked big… but you’re not attacking at all. What’s the matter? Scared now?"

"I’m just way too relaxed, that’s all. I’m going easy on you. Try to pick up on that, dumbass."

The girl swordsman—was fighting with everything she had.

"Still, are you sure this girl isn’t really your disciple? Her swordsmanship, it’s almost like—"

"Yeah, that part’s been bugging me too. Who the hell are you, really?"

She was pushing her defensive skills to their absolute limit, barely managing to parry each deadly strike that came mixed in with casual banter.

"Right, right—if I were the one swinging like this, I’d dive straight in and close the distance."

“!”

But that reaction would be her downfall. Move on instinct, and he could read her swordplay completely.

Of course he could. The man in front of her used the exact same sword style as she did. More than any swordsman in the world, he could predict her every move.

"Who are you?"

"His disciple. Of the Wind Cutter style—"

"Hmm. I see. Probably lost a bit of memory when you were brought back to life. I’ve heard that happens sometimes."

"Huh? Oh—so you really are my disciple. Well damn, my bad then."

She couldn’t let him read her movements. She had to dodge differently than usual. But that meant abandoning everything her body was used to.

No good. With half-baked movements like that, there’s no way she could take on these two.

"A cute girl like this, my disciple, huh. Wait—don’t tell me you two had that kind of relationship?"

"Don’t spout vile nonsense. It was a normal master-student bond."

"Sheesh. But hey, hearing you’re a disciple makes me feel kinda close to you. So, how about it? Beg for your life all pathetic-like, and maybe I’ll let you go."

"No way!!"

Yeah… the truth is, even if I landed a clean blow on a vital spot, my strength wouldn’t be enough to reach the Demon Sword King's heart. No matter what I try, there’s no path to victory for me.

In that case…

"Rex will be here soon anyway. Once he shows up, I win. That makes me the one with the advantage, got that, you weaklings?"

All she could do was buy time.

That’s right, everything will be fine. If it’s Rex, he has to be alive. There’s no way Rex would die that easily.

I can’t beat Rex. But I can buy time until he gets here.

I’m sure Karin’s treating him now, and he’ll be back on the battlefield soon. Until then, all I have to do is stall.

"Hah? I’m stronger than Rex, you know. I’m the strongest one here."

"You mean the guy who needed a sneak attack with backup to win? Please."

I admit it—I can’t beat Rex. But I still want to be his friend.

So I’ll be someone he can rely on.

"Come at me, you two trash bags. I’m more than enough to handle you both."

"The only trash here is you. You haven’t even landed a proper hit! Get a grip, idiot!"

"You’re the idiot! Try realizing you’re brainwashed, moron!"

"…Yeah. No doubt about it. Master and disciple."

It was a first for the swordswoman named Flatche.

The first time she realized defeat before the battle was over. Gave up resisting. Waited, like a beaten dog, hoping someone would come save her.

(Maybe… maybe if I can’t win anyway, I should just beg for my life to buy time.)

Even though she had given up on victory—she still picked up her sword. For the first time, she fought that kind of battle.


.

.

.


That day, the Sword Saint made the wrong choice.

He couldn’t bring himself to kill his brainwashed best friend. Instead, he knocked him out and tried to take him back.

He couldn’t choose to kill him then and there.

“Damn it.”

Of course he couldn’t. That man was like a part of Rex’s own body. There was no way he could kill him. He never even intended to.

He could come up with all the excuses he wanted. It was a two-on-one fight. The enemy was far too strong to beat under normal circumstances. His friend now had the body of a demon—tougher, more resilient than any human.

So this result was inevitable. Next time, as long as he didn’t let his guard down, he could win.

“Son of a bitch.”

But so what? Even if he won the next time, what would it matter?

The Sword Saint ran.

He sprinted toward where the rest of his party was likely still fighting. Without thinking, he pushed his legs forward with everything he had.

โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€Eventually, Rex returned to the battlefield.

Back to that forest where he had once crossed blades with two demons. Back to the place where, surely, his companions were still waiting for him to return.

…Back to the “family” Rex had found, after losing his home.

“โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€Ah.”

But by the time Rex arrived, it was already too late.

The battlefield was soaked in blood and horror. There was no sign of his companions. No sign of the demons.

All Rex could see were the traces—evidence that someone had fought desperately in this place.

“โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€A…ah…”

The battle had ended long ago. No one was left waiting for Rex’s help.

…No—wait.

“…Hah…hah…”

The Sword Saint heard it. A faint breath, strained and shallow—barely alive. The ragged breathing of someone clinging to life.

But someone was there. In a clearing just beyond the battlefield, someone on the verge of death.

“Please! Be alive—anyone!!”

With one arm, unable even to grip a sword, the Sword Saint ran toward that voice—toward that place where someone might still be alive, even if the enemy was still nearbyโ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

“…So, you finally made it, Rex.”

In the quiet stillness of the battlefield, a girl’s voice echoed.

Rex turned his face toward the sound.

“…You’re late.”

It wasn’t the usual energetic voice of the girl swordsman. It was calm—eerily so. Her words carried the rasp of someone near death, her broken breathing haunting the blood-soaked forest.

Faced with that scene, Rex couldn’t speak.

He dropped to his knees.

Number-Zero

Author's Note

...Okay, this is getting heavy even for me... Donโ€™t tell me this has already turned into an Akame ga Kill type of series...

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