Chapter 45

Ugh. No way I’m winning this.

“Just as expected from my disciple. Not a single hit landing—feels like I’m swinging at the wind.”

“Says the guy made of wind.”

A deafening whooom rattles my eardrums. I twist my body, one leg sliding back in reflex—just in time for a jagged hunk of iron to graze past the tips of my lashes.

Geez. That’s just a missed swing? And it still roars like thunder. My practice swings are more like a light fwhip—nothing like that. How heavy is that thing?

“—Tch, gotcha!!”

The second he lunges with a throat stab, my body moves on its own—I sidestep and drive straight in.

“I was waiting for that!”

The instant I close in—just one step from hitting my doppelgänger’s core—he throws a knee. Barely clips my cheek.

“Whoa—!”

I twist away mid-air, arching my back as I leap. That was close. Yeah, that movement—he read me like a book.

No good. I still can’t get in close. Slipping past a thrust and diving into their guard—that’s my signature move. But it’s not working. Of course it’s not. He is me.

I thought maybe, since it’s two-on-one, if I got in close to one of them, the other wouldn’t be able to intervene as easily. I figured it’d tilt the odds. But nope—just gives them a clean counter opportunity. Diving in now is asking to get wrecked.

“...‘Like cutting the wind,’ huh. Gotta admit, my own sword’s kind of a pain. Even my own disciple can’t handle it.”

“You think this is funny? I’m the one stuck sparring with you all the time, Kazenagi. Doesn’t even feel like a fight.”

“It’s good training, partner.”

They’re still chatting like they’re killing time, but their blades? Not letting up one bit. Slash after slash, they keep squeezing in, slowly tightening the space around me. Keep this up, and eventually they’ll box me in and finish me off.

Ughhh what do I do? I didn’t think an unwinnable fight would feel this miserable. Rex, please hurry up and get back already.

“Yo!”

Aaand another stab. Persistent jerk. Timing’s good though—might be able to slip inside.

…But no. Feels off. He wants me to take the bait, right? No way that thrust was random. He’s waiting for the counter.

And then it hits me. That move—the one where I dodge their blade and push forward? That’s not just for getting close. It’s a setup. I close the gap while dodging so I can land a counter. That’s what my sword style is built around. Most swordsmen can’t handle that—you get past their guard and hit a vital spot in one go. That’s how I win.

But that means—if I’m not trying to win, then I’ve got zero reason to get into their guard.

Even if I get close, I can’t cut through the Demon Sword King’s massive frame. And Kazenagi? He’ll deflect everything—guaranteed. If I try to go full offense, all I’m doing is racking up risk for nothing.

I shouldn’t be attacking at all. Rex is a monster. These two? They can keep up with Rex. And me? I’m just a plain, ordinary girl. All I can do is stall. Stall until Rex comes back.

Mei was right. You don’t fight monsters like these head-on. You just survive them.

Okay. Decision made—I’m running. I shift the enemy’s thrust off to the side, then bolt wide.

“Dah-shaa!!”

“…Oh? Going that way this time?”

I redirect his sword, use the momentum to lift off gently. When I land, I’m clear—outside Kazenagi’s reach and far enough from the other guy’s swings.

No follow-up. Well, Kazenagi’s reach isn’t long enough to chase me from here anyway.

Nice. This is actually looking kinda good. Can’t land a hit, but it’s a whole lot safer out here.

“Yo, ha! Hup!”

If this is all it takes, then I’ve got no complaints.

I drop all thoughts of counterattacks and focus entirely on evading—sidestepping, ducking, slipping away from every slash like a ghost.

Redirect a swing to the right—jump left. Spin inward, step on the flat of the blade, and spring up.

Not hit-and-run. Just run-and-run. Doesn’t matter how pathetic it looks—long as I stay alive.

“—Ugh, you serious? Are you even trying? You’re just running!”

“Thrown away your chances, have you? Pathetic.”

“What’s wrong, huh? Can’t handle one little girl even with two of you? Come catch me if you can!”

Yep. Never planned on winning. All I need to do is stall until Rex gets here.

Sucks, huh? No matter how sharp your attacks are, if all I do is dodge, you can’t touch me. When it comes to defense, I’m ridiculously good. Like, inhuman level.

“…Kazenagi. Let’s flank her.”

“Got it.”

“…Wait, what?”

A chill runs down my spine as they split and start to circle.

…Crap. That’s bad. My sword style’s built for one-on-ones. I can’t block two swords at once.

I scramble, darting around the space to keep my back from being exposed. But the massive demon’s already looped around at inhuman speed, and my fake? Still locked on and closing in.

Oh no. They’ve boxed me in.

Don’t flank me. Please. Just one at a time, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Seriously.

“One, two—”

“Three!!”

They even count down together—how polite—before slashing at me from front and back. I turn my back to Kazenagi, since his attacks are at least easier to read, and lock eyes with the Demon Sword King charging me head-on.

His sword swings in a vertical arc—cuts off every upward or downward escape. Meanwhile, Kazenagi’s horizontal slash seals off the sides.

There’s literally nowhere to run. And I don’t have the strength to block even one of those hits.

“……”

Dodge—die. Block—also die.

Then there’s only one way out. I have to twist their paths. Layer in a feint. Guide their strikes. Redirect them with the flat of my blade. Find that one impossible crack, and punch through it.

I can do this. No—only I can do this.

Because this is what my sword was made for—

—Yeah. This is my sword.

---

Is this… a life flashing before my eyes?

Time slows to a crawl. The world is drowned in a deep, unbroken blue.

Two strikes, slow and precise, come bearing down on me. Left unchecked, they’ll cleave me clean in two.

I can’t dodge. I can’t block. Then the only choice is to guide their blades—to find life within the jaws of death.

As the world decelerates, my vision expands. Color drains from everything, until I'm swallowed by a world of monochrome.

And then, at last—
the world freezes.

---

From a bird’s-eye view, the current situation was hopeless—no surprise, really. These two had mastered the sword, and their synchronized assault left me no escape. Even if I managed to deflect one of their strikes, the other would surely bisect me.

Was there a way out? If so, where?

…Ah, of course. There is a path. My path.

“…I see it.”

What loomed before me weren’t just blades. In front of me charged the Demon Sword King; behind me, Kazenagi. Both closing in, both aiming to kill.

I’ll draw in the vertical slash from the Demon Sword King. Lure it toward me—so that it lands not on my torso, but on Kazenagi’s shoulder as he lunges in from behind.

Same for the sideways slash closing from the rear. Guide its arc inward, so it finds the Demon Sword King’s exposed flank.

If I can’t block it myself, then I’ll make their own bodies do it. My small frame keeps me just out of reach of both blades. That gap becomes my safe zone.

—A sway, subtle and fluid, disturbs their sense of distance.

—Drawing my rapier close to my chest like a commander giving silent orders on the battlefield, I coax them a step deeper.

—Then, with a slight smile, I open my stance just half a pace—shifting my axis.

““—!?””

Got them. The overhead smash aimed for me landed squarely on Kazenagi’s shoulder, while the sweeping strike he’d launched cracked the Demon Sword King’s armor at the stomach.

Both blades stopped cold. Neither reached me. A perfect friendly fire. Serves them right.

“…Phew.”

No need to press further. My attack power isn’t enough to hurt either of them anyway. This might look like the perfect chance to counter, but it’s better to get out of this death trap while I can.

“Ghh—my bad.”

“My swing slipped… No, I was pulled into it?”

…What was that just now? It was my first time trying it, and yet it felt so natural.

No, I’ve done similar things before. Manipulating enemy sword paths, bending their advantage into mine—that’s always been my thing.

“Tch, one more time. I’ll be more careful now.”

“…Yeah. I mean, that had to be a fluke. No way there’s a sword technique like that. Even I couldn’t pull something so delicate…”

But still, this was the first time I’d ever wounded someone just by redirecting their swing. I’d never even considered the possibility.

This is incredibly effective—especially right now.

Because normally, I couldn’t land a scratch on those two. Physically, I’m completely outmatched.

And yet, they’re both wounded. That’s a fact.

““Ready—go!!””

Here they come again—those two demons, now syncing up perfectly.

This time, they slash at me from both sides at once. Diagonal cuts, textbook kesagiri angles.

Oh come on. That won’t work. Not when you’re swinging like that…

I divert the right slash further left, and the left one further right.

That alone is enough.

“Ow! Dammit!”

“Ggh!”

Their blades sank into each other.

“I don’t believe it… Is this little brat doing it on purpose?”

“N-no way. Even I couldn’t do something that stupid! What, she’s seeing the future now or something—?!”

…Okay, seriously. My senses are way too sharp right now.

But if this keeps up, I can do it. I don’t need to land a single blow myself.

If I can’t hurt them, I’ll just let them hurt themselves.

Hell, if I do this right, I might even wear them down a bit before Rex gets here.

“There’s no way she meant to! It was just luck, got it!?”

Alright, change of perspective.

There’s a swordsman charging straight at me. I need to injure them—without using my own strength. How?

“I, the world’s most delicate, most skillful swordswoman, will—!”

Ah—there’s a big tree just to the back right. Perfect. I’ll redirect him that way.

Turning lightly around the spine of his blade, I twist the edge like a spinning spear, dragging his balance toward me.

Yeah. No matter how flexible Kazenagi is, once you torque his wrist, he’ll have no choice but to tighten his grip.

And when he applies unnecessary force—his center of gravity wavers. I simply follow the shift and place a hand, gently, right into that flow.

“—Wahp!?”

Perfect. Of course he'd crash into the tree after losing balance like that.

Man, this is kind of fun. Who knew just focusing on defense like this could give you so much room to maneuver?

I always thought a swordsman had to strike down their foe directly. But now that I’m playing mid-range, reading their movement and steering it… This way of fighting might actually suit me. Come to think of it, I always lost when my attacks were countered and the enemy took the initiative.

But if I don’t attack—then there’s nothing to counter.

Hah. Way too passive for an actual match, but whatever.

“Then how about this strike!?”

Next came a slash from the Demon Sword King. Way heavier, way sharper than anything my fake could pull off.

Ah. That’s…

“…There.”

That weight—he’s already leaning into the sword without realizing it. The balance is locked onto the blade.

About twenty centimeters from the hilt—that’s your center of mass, huh?

Same as always. I dodge, nudge the blade’s center with my tip, and let that weight carry it sideways.

——The tip of the Demon Sword King’s blade twisted like a spiral. The moment he instinctively tensed his arm to straighten it back out—

—I slid my sword downward, letting the point graze the tendon of his foot.

Sensing the blade’s aura, the Demon Sword King leapt reflexively.

And with that—game over.

“Ggrraaaahhh!?”

When you jump while your center of gravity is already locked into a downward swing, of course you're going to go flying. His massive demonic body spun through the air like a pinwheel and slammed into the ground a good ten meters away.

He was thrown by his own strength. The force of the downward blow he unleashed with everything he had—that very momentum became the power of the throw that sent him crashing.

…If a blow that heavy came back around on you, yeah. That’d hurt.

“…Huh? Huhhh!? What the hell was that!?”

What was that? I don’t feel like myself anymore.

My vision’s wide. I can see everything. The enemy’s movements, their breathing, their thoughts, their hesitation—I can feel it all like it's in the palm of my hand.

Ahh… damn. I get it now. Just how stupid was I all this time? This—this is what I’m good at.

Back when I had a guy’s body, I had just enough muscle to brute-force my way through fights. I could push Rex over and win. So I convinced myself that was the right answer.

But I wasn’t supposed to counter. I wasn’t supposed to close the gap. Just because the enemy staggered, I wasn’t supposed to go in and finish it.

I get it now. In mid-range, where the tips of our blades can barely touch—I’m invincible. I was supposed to keep them locked there, never letting them in.

“…Yeah.”

What the hell had I been doing, never realizing something this simple?

My body feels light. I’m not a close-range counter fighter. I’m a mid-range control type—a battlefield dominator who overwhelms the enemy by adapting to their every move.

“…Now I understand.”

It took losing all my strength, becoming a woman, to finally notice it. Even a genius like me makes mistakes, apparently.

But now, I have a way to buy time. A real chance to be useful to Rex.

I know my place. After seeing Rex fight at full power, I understood how far beneath him I truly am.

So I won’t get my hopes up. I can’t beat these two. That much is obvious.

——But.

“…You two will never defeat me.”

At my words, the demons' expressions shifted. Was it anger, or confusion?

But I wasn’t taunting them. I just meant it—plain and simple.

I have no chance of beating them. I don’t have a single finishing move that could take them out. All I can do is stall for time.

But by the same token, as long as I keep holding out, I can make sure they never land a finishing blow either.

“——Ahh. The world feels frozen.”

A pathetic blade that can’t win. That’s my limit.

And yet, no matter how long it takes for Rex to arrive—I know I can keep stalling forever.

I’m sure of it.

---

That swordsman was foolishly earnest.

Most would’ve given up, thinking, “There’s no way I can beat him.”
But not her.
She chose him as her rival—and challenged him again and again, only to be defeated every time.

He always walked one step ahead.
To her, he was a wall. A goal. A figure to aspire to.

She swung her sword, day after day, wishing she could become like him. That she would become like him.

Eventually, that man was hailed as the Sword Saint.
In strength, in fame, in everything—he left her behind.

Even so, she kept chasing him, blind to the gap between them.
A difference so vast it would break most hearts, yet she fought to close it with all the stubborn desperation she had.

And then—she died.
Reborn as a girl, stripped of the strength and stamina she had once built.

Even then, she clawed her way forward, fighting through agony, still trying to catch up to the Sword Saint.

Then, one day, the Sword Saint fell.
Struck down by a demon who wore his younger face.
A coward’s ambush.

And still, she didn’t stop believing in him.
The man she admired so deeply wouldn’t die so easily—she was certain of that.

From the day they first met at the dojo as children, she had chased that back.
And she believed, with everything she had, that it would never vanish.

“…You finally made it, Rex. Took you long enough.”

Rex had dashed past Mino, running as if his life depended on it—and what he found at the end of that frantic sprint was this scene:

Blood splattered all across the clearing.
Trees slashed to ribbons.
A battlefield, silent and still.

At its center stood a lone girl, a swordswoman.

“…Huh?”

“…What are you staring at, Rex?”

It was surreal.

She was unscathed.
No—her clothes weren’t even dirty.

Not a tear, not a drop of sweat.
She stood exactly as she had when they’d parted.
Like time hadn’t touched her.

“…With how weak I am, I couldn’t land the final blow.”

She said it with a faint smile, her eyes a clear, endless blue.

Hair drifting like silk in the breeze of the battlefield, the girl stood like a dancer mid-step.
She looked almost like a celestial maiden from an old fairytale—

“…No way. No way…”

Rex’s knees buckled.

In his right eye: his old friend, drenched in blood, barely clinging to life, glaring at the girl.

In his left: the Demon Sword King, face-down and unmoving, unconscious or worse.

“Did… did you win?”

And at the heart of it all, untouched and smiling, she welcomed the Sword Saint.

“No. I couldn’t have won. That’s why I need your strength, Rex.”

—That day.

The swordsman who had chased her best friend’s back for so long.

Who never gave up, no matter how far she was left behind.

For the first time—
stood beside the Sword Saint.