Chapter 58

She was there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Standing there with her usual preferred light attire, the black-haired, cat-eyed girl-swordsman gazed with clouded, dull blue eyes.

Her dagger, swung to kill Karin but missing its mark, hung in the air—expressionless, she stared at it. Then, the girl-swordsman let both her arms drop limply as she fixed her gaze on the Sword Saint.

"...Can't win, huh."

Consumed by an inhuman malice, hatred, and obsession, she stood before Rex as a fallen swordsman, blocking his path.

"────Flatche?"

Karin was speechless at the sight of her comrade, so utterly changed. She had heard Flatche had been reassigned to the northeastern fortress.

So why was she here? When had she been brainwashed by the enemy────

"...Ah."

Now that she thought about it, there had been no backup. Not a single shot of covering fire from Clarise, who should have been waiting at the fortress to support them against the horde of demons.

"Don’t tell me… the fortress fell?"

That’s right—by the time this attack began, the fortress had already been taken.

"Who gives a damn about that right now?! Karin, what the hell is that thing?!"

But for Rex, that wasn’t the important part.

What he wanted to know was────why a familiar girl was standing there, sword at the ready.

"...That’s Flatche herself, isn’t it?"

"Is she alive?! Or dead?!"

"Seems like she’s just brainwashed for now—no signs of zombification. If we can restrain that idiot, we might be able to fix her."

"So… she can be saved?"

"Not sure, but I’ll try. First, we pin her down—talk later."

"Got it!!"

Though shaken by the sudden attack from a "comrade," Rex steeled himself and raised his massive sword with practiced ease.

He had just been given a wake-up call by his best friend—he couldn’t afford to look pathetic now.

"Here I come, Flatche!!"

He was serious. A full-powered blunt strike. He had to save her from this brainwashing as soon as possible.

To capture Flatche, Rex unleashed a slash unlike anything from training or sparring—a truly ultimate strike, one that embodied the full skill of the Sword Saint.

The fastest, strongest, most precise blow in the world descended upon the slender swordswoman.

"...Aahh!!"

The Sword Saint’s terrifying strike, swung at near-supersonic speed────

"...Again, holding back."

Only grazed the girl-swordsman’s hair.

His aim faltered. A faint shift in balance, like a breeze, rippled through his poised arm.

Flatche had merely shifted half a step—yet his blade passed harmlessly by her skin.

"...Huh?"

This wasn’t right. The Sword Saint had definitely aimed for her torso. He’d deliberately used the flat of his blade to avoid killing her, but there was no way she should’ve dodged.

It had been a perfect strike—one that should’ve been impossible to evade without properly parrying.

"Get serious."

His spine turned to ice. In the midst of his confusion, after missing his swing and leaving himself wide open, he saw it.

Those pale blue eyes locked onto his as the girl closed the distance effortlessly, light as a feather.

"Show me..."

As casually as slicing into steak, she drove her blade into the Sword Saint’s upper arm without hesitation.

Blood gushed from Rex’s limb as the ragged short sword cleanly carved into his flesh.

"...Can’t win."

Instinctively, Rex roared, twisting his body to fling her away with centrifugal force. At the same time, his own flesh was torn apart—but there was no helping it.

A throbbing pain quickened his pulse. His full-powered strike had been effortlessly dodged, and sweat beaded on his brow from sheer frustration.

What had just happened? What had she done to him? In his mind, his wariness toward this girl—who moved in ways he couldn’t comprehend—spiked.

"Rrraaaghh!!"

Rex bellowed. Then, swaying unsteadily, he turned and charged at the eerie swordsman.

He didn’t know what she’d do next. So he couldn’t let her do anything.

That meant he had to attack first. He had to force the fight into his rhythm. If he hesitated, he’d be carved to pieces before he knew it────

"Can’t win."

"Grahh!!"

The slash Rex unleashed this time somehow ended up embedded in the ground. Ever since this began, the Sword Saint couldn’t swing his sword properly.

No, even so—this was absurd. Never in his life had Rex made such an amateurish swing that he’d miss and stab the earth instead.

"Why?!"

At the peak of his confusion, just as he planted his feet to wrench his sword free────

"My balance—!"

"Too soft."

Flatche’s hand gently pressed against Rex’s spine. The Sword Saint’s large frame floated up, tracing an arc.

Using his own powerful legs to kick off the ground, Rex was instead sent hurtling downward—headfirst—into the earth.

"Gwaaahhh?!"

"Can’t win without throwing. Can’t win against Rex..."

Blood sprayed as agony wracked his body, sending the Sword Saint into convulsions. Instinctively, he lashed out wildly with his legs, kicking at the air around him.

This wasn’t strategy. This was terror—his body moving on its own.

Don’t let her get close. If that girl-swordsman closes in now, I’m dead.

That single thought drove Rex into reckless motion.

"...Tch."

Against all odds, it worked. His kicks hadn’t landed, but they forced Flatche to evade—buying him a precious moment without retaliation.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. His most refined, full-powered strikes had failed to touch her, yet this frantic flailing had somehow been effective.

And so, by sheer luck, Rex narrowly escaped death.

"...Hah?"

Escaped death? What kind of joke was this?

Him? The Sword Saint?

Being cornered without recourse by some frail-looking girl—what kind of nightmare was this?!

"Rex, snap out of it! No holding back! Even if Flatche gets hurt, I can heal her—so fight for real!!"

The nun’s shrill voice pierced his ears.

Right. Of course.

Flatche was the woman who had defeated his demonized best friend and the Demon Sword King without a scratch.

She wasn’t someone to underestimate. She wasn’t an opponent he could afford to hold back against.

That’s why he had already gone all out—or so he thought.

"......"

Silently, the black-haired girl stared down at him.

Her leather armor, so light it seemed barely capable of defense.

Her crude, short sword, too flimsy to pierce proper armor.

And yet—this girl. This frail, delicate-looking girl────

Rex could only glare back at her with undisguised horror.

"Karin, grab Mei and run. I’ll buy time."
"What?"
"No, seriously—run. I can’t win against her while protecting you, Mei, and the engineers."

Blood dripped steadily from his wounds as he raised a hand to stop Karin from approaching to treat him.

"Sorry, Karin. I... don’t know if I can beat Flatche."

It might have been the first time Karin had ever seen it.

The face of the Sword Saint, Rex—truly prepared to stake his life on a battle he might not survive.

---

"If you ever get brainwashed and turn out like this—I’ll take responsibility and cut your head off myself."

When had that memory resurfaced?

Rex had said those words when he first invited the girl-swordsman to join them.

"No offense, but even if someone like you got brainwashed and turned against us, you’d still be no match for me. So relax—just stick with me."

That was the promise.

The vow Rex had made when he welcomed the girl-swordsman into their ranks.

"...Yeah."

Had he ever been in a situation like this before?

Too afraid to swing at the girl in front of him. Every slash he unleashed boomeranging back at him.

This was something alien. A swordsmanship so refined—one that even his former best friend had aspired to—now embodied by a girl younger than him.

"You’ve gotten strong."

Eyes like murky, polluted blue sludge locked onto the Sword Saint without hesitation.

A swaying, flickering presence—sliding into his guard between breaths before he could react.

A rhythmless charge────the pinnacle of swordsmanship, something Rex himself could never replicate.

"Hey, Flatche."

He couldn’t afford not to attack.

If he left the black-haired girl standing right in front of him, his head would fly.

But.

"Thanks… for growing this strong."

He unleashed a spinning slash, a whirlwind of force meant to push Flatche back—

Yet she danced through it like a leaf caught in a tornado, spinning effortlessly into the storm’s eye.

Not resisting the force, but using it—to cut Rex down in turn.

This no longer felt like fighting a human.

It was like battling nature itself.

"Sorry, Flatche. I can’t hold back anymore."

Battered and broken, the Sword Saint rose—and smiled calmly at the storm before him.

"My lack of training’s to blame. Forgive me."

He couldn’t afford to lose.

If he fell, the lives of the precious comrades fleeing behind him would be forfeit.

If the Demon King’s army took the capital, his dearest friends would be slaughtered.

...Ah. So this is why my best friend made me kill him.

To prepare me—to harden my resolve for this moment.

"I’ll kill you, Flatche."
"────Huh?"

Rex’s determination became absolute.

He acknowledged Flatche as an enemy he could not defeat—one he had to kill.

"Sorry… I’m sorry…"

Tears welled faintly at the corners of his eyes as he raised his sword, pouring every ounce of his strength into a single strike.

"The cornered eagle pierces the earth."

His ultimate technique—one no opponent could react to after seeing it.

No, unless one could match Rex’s speed, even touching this blade was impossible.

A slash surpassing the speed of sound—approaching the speed of light itself.

"Radiant Sword: 'Eagle'."

The one true secret art of Rex, the man who defied all convention.

In theory, the only way to deflect this strike was to move a sword at light speed in response.

The moment this blade entered its range, Rex’s victory was assured. He had never shown this technique to anyone—because he’d never needed to.

Which meant Flatche was seeing it for the first time.

There was no way she could counter it.

"Forgive me, Flatche."

The culmination of Rex’s entire life as a swordsman—

—reached for Flatche’s throat.

---

"......"
"Yeah..."

But deep down, Rex already knew.

It was meaningless. No matter how fast his sword became, he could never catch up to Flatche.

"Opening."

The strike meant for her throat veered wildly off course. With just a single step back, the Sword Saint's ultimate technique sliced nothing but air.

That's right - she was...

When it came down to it, she was...

"Can you see the damn future or something, Flatche...?"

A sword demon who fought in the realm beyond light speed, anticipating moves before they happened.

---

"Long time no see."

That voice seemed to echo from somewhere deep.

"Time to wake up... Don’t waste the life I went through the trouble of saving."

"Huh?"

A voice I’d heard somewhere before.

Like a hated enemy. Like a pitiful prisoner. Like my own self from a distant future.

It was a strangely nostalgic voice.

"Who’s there?"

"How cold. I believe I introduced myself before."

Still groggy from waking, I glanced around my surroundings.

But it was pitch black. An endless expanse of darkness stretched before me.

"Where is this?"

"Where indeed?"

The vague answer irritated me slightly.

Who are you? Where is this? Why am I here, forced to deal with you?

"Cut the crap. What’s your goal?"

"Goal? Hmm, well... I suppose my goal has already been fulfilled."

"...What are you talking about?"

"I wanted to become human. That was my only wish... Though it seems that damned Demon King or his underlings saw through my betrayal."

Hearing those words—

I recalled the zombie hag whose head was crushed in regret at Dice Volcano.

"────Don’t tell me... Jariba?"

"Long time no see. Finally remembered my name, have you? My little test subject."

...Right. The owner of this voice was the very one who killed me and reincarnated me into a woman’s body.

Jariba, the Sorcerer King—one of the Demon King’s subordinates.

"So... I finally died, huh? Jariba, is this the afterlife?"

"No, not quite... Though, truth be told, even I’m not sure what this place is."

"Oh? If you’re here, doesn’t that mean I’m dead?"

"Most likely not."

A voice without a form.

In the darkness, the old woman’s voice rang out, oddly calm.

"Hey. What the hell’s going on? If I’m not dead, where is this, and what’s happening to me?"

"I don’t know where this is, but I can guess what’s happening to you... This must be the booby trap I set."

"Booby trap?"

"Indeed... I installed a 'mind-control defense' booby trap in all my clones. If it’s activated, that means you were captured by the Demon King’s army and subjected to some kind of brainwashing."

"...Ah. Right, now that I think about it, I did surrender to the Demon King."

"Hmph, how fortunate. Your brainwashing should wear off soon. Originally, this anti-brainwashing magic was for my sake... but, well, no matter."

Keh, keh, keh. Jariba’s muffled laughter took on a strangely cheerful tone.

Ah, I see. This zombie hag had prepared countermeasures against mind-control in advance, anticipating the possibility of being brainwashed when transferring to a clone body.

This body of mine was originally meant to be Jariba’s clone. So, was this body supposed to be her vessel?

"...Hey, Jariba. Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, test subject?"

"That thing... the demon with my memories. What the hell is it?"

"Hm? Ah—that. After hearing you were a famous swordsman in life, the Demon Sword King pestered me for it. I made it in exchange for funding."

"...I see? But, wait—"

If that’s the case, doesn’t that make things weird?

If she could create clones with memories intact, wouldn’t Jariba’s wish have been fulfilled just by making a clone of herself with her own memories? Why go through all the trouble of transplanting my brain?

"...If you can make clones with memories, then there was no need to bother with transplanting my brain, right?"

"Why’s that?"

"Because if clones are possible, then gathering human corpses—let alone using me for experiments—would’ve been pointless. You could’ve just experimented by transferring your clone’s brain into another vessel from the start."

"Ah, that’s what you mean. Simple. The raw material for those clones is still human corpses. And your corpse just happened to be 'rotten' at the time."

"...Huh?"

Jariba’s response was—

A horrifying, utterly incomprehensible answer.

"R-rotten?!"

"Indeed. My subordinates are lazy—they sometimes forget to refrigerate the corpses."

"Wha—wha—WHAT?!"

"And so, your corpse rotted nicely, maggots infested it, parts of it decayed—"

"STOP! I don’t need a play-by-play of my own corpse’s decomposition!!"

"You’re the one who asked."

Unbelievable. So those damn demons who ambushed me just tossed my body aside like trash.

And then it rotted. It was a human body, damn it! Show some respect!

"Okay, fine! But even if my body was rotten, why go through with the transplant—"

"Isn’t it obvious? Because that was my very wish."

"...Huh?"

"If I made a clone with my own memories, would that still be me? Technically, I could create a human with my memories... but that would still just be a clone. Not me."

...?

What the hell? Since when did Jariba start spouting philosophical nonsense?

If Jariba’s clone had Jariba’s memories, wouldn’t that just be Jariba? It’s 100% her, right?

"You had a clone of your own, didn’t you?... Would you say it was the real you?"

"Hmph. No. It was a fake."

"Exactly. Though, from the clone’s perspective, it probably believed it was the real one."

Ah, I see. That makes sense.

From zombie Jariba’s perspective, a clone with all her memories gets to live as a human while she remains a rotting corpse. Of course she’d hate that.

So then, Jariba’s goal was...

"Think carefully. I’m a zombie—my body is decaying."

"......"

"The technology to regenerate a decayed brain and transplant it into a living human body. That was essential to my dream. And you—you’re the only successful example."

"So that’s how it was."

"I wanted to become human as myself. The biggest obstacle was 'regenerating a decayed brain.' I’d finally made progress—with enough funds and time, I could’ve restored my original body... How frustrating."

Jariba’s sorrowful voice reverberated through the darkness.

"Guess I was just one step away, huh? If my execution had been delayed by just one more day, I would’ve achieved her dream."

"Then, you might’ve been fighting alongside humans as a grand sorceress in this girl’s body. And maybe, right beside her… would’ve been me, in my original male body."

...

"...Sorry, Jariba. I couldn’t save you."

"What nonsense. I’m the one who killed you. You owe me no apologies."

"Yeah, I know. But still… sorry."

"You’re a strange one."

Maybe it was weird for me to apologize. But the thought that there could’ve been a future where I fought alongside Jariba… left me with a dull ache in my chest.

"Well, not that it matters now. I’m already dead. The ‘me’ talking to you here is probably just… a remnant of my lingering will left in your body."

"Lingering… will?"

"Aye. Just… a tiny fragment of the dream I once had. Don’t get sentimental on me."

Her voice carried a faint warmth.

"...Maybe she was trying to comfort me."

"Now then, it’s about time you woke up, test subject. The brainwashing should wear off once enough time passes without any living demons nearby."

"Oh, really?"

"I don’t know what’s happening outside, but if you were brainwashed, you might’ve been fighting humans. Don’t let your guard down."

"...Right."

"Do me a favor. My dream may be over… but at least let this body live a happy life. Not that I have any right to ask that of you."

"Nah, don’t worry. I’ve got it."

With those final words—

"Take care────"

────My vision flooded with light.

"...Huh?"

And then—

A vast, burning plain stretched out before me.

"What the hell…? A scene straight out of hell?"

---

My vision cleared.

The first thing that came into view was my own right arm swinging a sword down toward someone covered in blood.

"...!?"

This was the moment of impact. If I followed through, the person before me would be decapitated.

Who... who was I about to kill? An enemy? No, if I was brainwashed and fighting, then they weren’t an enemy.

But it was too late now. There was no way to stop mid-swing. My blade was already biting into their carotid artery—

"Hmph!!"

And just like that, my dagger was caught between their jaw and neck muscles, wrenched from my grip.

...Huh?

"Gah...! Hah... hah... Not bad, Flatche. But it ain't over yet."
"......"

Finally, I realized who I had been fighting all this time.

Rex. Up until this very moment, I’d apparently been locked in a life-or-death battle with him. Of course—Rex wouldn’t die from just a slash to the neck.

Anyone else would’ve been dead instantly.

"Ah—"

The sight was brutal. Rex stood there, drenched in blood, chunks of flesh gouged out, breathing heavily through gritted teeth.

What happened, Rex? This isn’t like you. Who pushed you this far? I’ve never seen you cornered like this.

"HERE I GOOOOO!!"
"Wha— H-Hey, wait—!"

A whoosh of wind roared as Rex coiled his entire body like a spring, unleashing a hurricane of slashes.

An endless, spinning barrage of strikes—undeniably aimed straight at me.

"I-I’m gonna die!?"

Dodge. Evade. Deflect.

Calm down, Rex, the brainwashing’s already worn off! No, wait—would he even understand me if I said that?

Rex’s eyes were dead serious. He’d made up his mind, surrendering himself completely to the sword.

Damn it, and these slashes are full-power too. How the hell am I supposed to talk down a Rex who’s gone all out like this? I’ll die for real!

"...Flaaaatche!! No matter what—!"
"Rex, listen—!"

Luckily, maybe because of his injuries or some last-minute restraint, his swings weren’t as fast as usual. Slower than the full-power mode I’d seen before.

Meanwhile, I was unharmed. I still had stamina to spare, so I could manage to deflect them. On the flip side, I was too busy defending to get a word in.

How long are you gonna keep spinning, Rex? You’re like a damn top.

"...Ugh... Grr..."
"...Haah... hah..."

...Wait. Could it be...

That the reason Rex is this messed up... is because of me?

"FLATCHE!!"
"REX!!"

There’s no way I could come out of a fight against someone like Rex unscathed and still full of energy. Maybe he fought some insane enemy right before me, but—

Did this guy... try to subdue me without hurting me?

It’d be tough to land a precise hit on someone as evasive as me while holding back. A full-power strike from Rex would kill me if it connected.

So instead, like when he took down the brainwashed me before... he fought carefully, taking unnecessary damage. That’s exactly the kind of thing the kind, loyal Rex would do.

Damn it, I underestimated him, thinking he’d handle it easily. Of course he wouldn’t be able to kill me—his own comrade—

"Grrr!! Missed, damn it!!"
"...Eek!!?"

The moment I let my guard down, thinking that, Rex swung his greatsword straight for my neck.

...If I’d reacted even a split second later, my head would’ve gone flying.

Y-Y-You trying to kill me!?

"Sorry, but this time—I’m gonna kill you, Flatche."

"...Huh!? W-Wait!?"

"FLATCHEEEEE!!"

HE’S FULLY INTENT ON MURDERING ME!! Hold up, so he wasn’t holding back!? Then why the hell is he so beat up!?

Wait, was it really back-to-back battles? Did he fight the Demon King right before me and just ran out of steam? No—if the Demon King died, wouldn’t my brainwashing have broken the moment that happened?

"H-Hold on, Rex—just calm down a sec. Let’s talk, okay?"

"Shut up!"
"Flatche… You—you’re the one person I—!"

Huh? Wait, does he… hate me now!? Did I do something awful while I was out of it!?

Did I hurt Karinmei-chan or something!? Is that why Rex is this furious?

"You’re the one person I—" What the hell does that mean? Did I really screw up that bad!?

Horrifying scenarios flash through my mind, my face paling by the second. No… No way. If I hurt my own comrades…

"You’re the one person I— wanted to stay with me forever!!"

As he roared those words and swung at me, I saw it—tears, faint and mixed with blood, welling in Rex’s eyes.

"You… You were the hope he left behind for a dead man like me."

"......"

"You taught me what it meant to live again… and then you chased after me—the only woman who ever caught up to me."

The Sword Saint exhaled sharply.

Using his greatsword—now lodged in the ground from my deflection—as a crutch, he steadied himself, swaying weakly, and glared at me with a pained smirk.

"Sorry… Looks like I can’t keep my promise. Can’t seem to cut off your brainwashed head after all."

"...Rex."

"You win, Flatche. I swear I didn’t slack off… Guess I just wasn’t strong enough yet."

Ah… So that relentless assault earlier—that was Rex burning the last of his strength in one final, desperate flurry.

There’s nothing left in him now. No stamina to even lift his sword. Good—then I’ll tell him. I’ll make sure he knows the brainwashing’s already broken.

"...Tch. Pathetic, saying this to a brainwashed, out-of-control version of you, but—"

"Rex, listen. The truth is—"

"Flatche. I… loved you."

....

"I’ve always loved women like you, y’know. The kind who’re endlessly cheerful, genuine to a fault, good down to their bones. The kind who don’t coddle you when you’re at your weakest—just prop you up instead."

"...Hah, heh."

"Figured it out yet? Took me all of a few days after we met to fall for you. ...Never thought you’d be my best friend’s disciple, though."

────Huh?

Wait, what? Oh. Right. I am in a female body right now. So... that’s a thing that could happen.

...N-no, excuse me?

"What’s wrong? Not gonna kill me?"

"......"

"...Hm? Flatche?"

Hold on. Hold the hell on.

I need a second to process this. That was not on my bingo card.

Why confess now? Why this timing? Oh—oh, right. Deathbed confession. Goddammit.

"Flatche...?"
"......"

No, no, no. That’s—I can’t work with this. There’s no way I can look Rex in the eye after that.

Deep breath. Okay. Calm down. Yeah. I’m calm.

Right. All I gotta do is reject him. Tell him I’m back to normal, then let him down easy. Problem solved. Nice.

Alright. Now that I’ve got my head straight, time to face Rex again—

"——HEY, DUMBASS, FREE SHOT!!"

"...Hwah!?"

—And the instant I look up, finally composed, Rex tackles me full-force, slamming me into the dirt.

"GAHAHA! My win! My win! Don’t know what you were zoning out about, but I gotcha now!"

"Wha—!? Rex, the fight was over already!"

"Last one laughing wins!! Now drop the sword, you freak!"
"Ghh—! Shit, your grip—! Let go—!!"

So this is why they say complacency kills. Once it’s a pure strength contest, my scrawny ass stands no chance against Rex.

Pathetically disarmed, I’m pinned beneath him.

"Aaand gotcha. Now I can snap you outta that brainwashing for good."

"...Yeah. About that, Rex."

"Hm? What’s up? ...Wait. Hold on. Your eyes—they’re clear now?"

Stuck under a blood-soaked mountain of muscle, limbs locked in place, I let out an exasperated sigh and hit him with the truth.

"I’ve been sane this whole time. ...I tried telling you mid-fight."

"...Huh?"

"Also, I stopped attacking halfway through. How’d you miss that?"

And thus, I delivered the mortifying reality.

---

"I wanna die."

"......"

Rex has officially entered his depression era. Poor guy.

Well, technically it's my fault for folding to the Demon King so easily and turning traitor. But hey, I figured you'd just laugh it off like always—cut me some slack here.

"Hey, Rex...?"
"I'm so embarrassed I could just die."

Yikes. His eyes are empty. Gotta snap him outta this funk.

Let's see... Pretty sure the trick with guys like this is to piss 'em off instead.

"What's wroooong, Reeeex? Huh? Look at this pathetic loser~!"

"I wish I could vanish from existence."

"Not working. Damn, he's broken."

Tried doubling down on the taunts, but Rex's eyes just got deader. Backfired spectacularly.

What now?

"In my next life... I wanna be an octopus."
"LMAO, look at this octopus bastard!"

And so, our wholesome roast session—

—continued uninterrupted until Karin finally sensed the battle was over and came marching back with the troops.