Lung sat midway up the spectator stands reserved for Entrance 2.
He was thoroughly enjoying the Tournament.
This was the moment when young sprouts proved their strength.
It never got old. At this point, it was one of the few pleasures he still had left in life.
Thud-
“Ugh, my whole body’s still aching…”
Then, when an unexpected figure dropped into the seat beside him, Lung’s face brightened. It was a massive man with a robe pulled low over his head.
“Oh, you. Finally awake, are you? It’s been quite some time. You certainly make yourself difficult to visit. Hm? Did you come alone?”
“Yeah, old man. I slipped out while no one was looking. Left them a letter, so it should be fine. And if it isn’t, what are they gonna do about it?”
“You incorrigible bastard. Hahaha.”
The man who dared call Lung an old man painfully lowered his massive frame into the chair. It was obvious that simply moving still hurt.
“My boy’s competing. No father worth a damn could miss that. Don’t tell me his match already ended?”
“You arrived at just the right time. Your son will be fighting shortly. He looked tired, but his eyes were clear and sharp. He should be fine.”
“I heard my son finally made himself a friend. What do you think, old man? Is he a good match for the boy?”
“Don’t worry. From what I’ve seen, at least, they might as well have grown up together.”
“That so?”
The man’s gaze drifted toward a certain spot.
There stood a white-haired boy watching the match that would soon begin.
But the man saw something else when he looked at him.
“…Looks like the sort my boy shouldn’t be getting along with, if you ask me.”
There was unmistakable hostility in his voice.
Lung noticed it and held up the glass of liquor in his hand.
“Are appearances, conventions, and forms truly so important?”
The shape of the glass twisted grotesquely.
Spikes jutted from it in every direction, while other parts warped into rough, uneven bulges.
Yet not a single drop of liquor spilled from within.
“Isn’t what matters what it holds inside?”
The object could hardly even be called a glass anymore, yet Lung casually drank from it anyway.
The man snorted at the sight.
“You’re not wrong. But old man, not everyone thinks that way. Sometimes appearances matter a hell of a lot.”
The man took the twisted glass from Lung.
He stared down at the liquor remaining inside and continued.
“If something looks like it has no purpose, or like its shape might hurt somebody, most people won’t stop and think about it. They’ll just throw it away.”
“That, too, is true.”
Lung answered without protest.
He respected the insight of a man who had walked a road much like his own.
After a brief moment of thought, the man spoke again.
“But, well… if you’ve already shown me how to use the damn thing, I can’t exactly toss it away just because it looks strange.”
Just as Lung had done, the man raised the warped glass and drained every last drop of liquor.
“If someone doesn’t know, you teach them.”
A faint smile appeared on Lung’s lips as he nodded.
After that, the two continued chatting quietly.
The easy familiarity between them made them look like lifelong friends.
* * *
Imperial Prince Darius vs. Hero Leon
This match had happened in the original story as well.
In the original, however, it had been the finals.
Here, it was only the semifinals.
And in the original story, this was also the match Darius lost.
‘The situation’s even worse than it was back then…’
Too many events had gotten tangled, derailed, and twisted beyond recognition.
On top of that, Darius was exhausted.
He had managed to squeeze in short naps here and there, but there was no way a little sleep could erase the exhaustion of staying awake for four days straight.
He had lost in the original story even while in perfect condition.
Here, Darius had no choice but to fight while carrying the massive handicap of fatigue.
Leon, meanwhile, was even stronger than he had been in the original.
Ex didn’t know why, but Leon’s inner growth had already progressed far enough to offer glimpses of the person he was supposed to become much later in the story.
He was even using magic that he hadn’t possessed at this point in the original.
‘Leon’s Tier 3 now, right?’
He could wield divine power with ease, and possessed the abilities of both a 5-Star martial artist and a Tier 3 mage.
There was no way Darius could win.
‘Still, you’d better win somehow. We can worry about what comes after later.’
As Darius stepped onto the arena, Ex met his eyes.
Ex gave him a nod.
Darius nodded back.
Then Darius drew a deep breath and assessed his own condition.
‘Not good.’
The exhaustion accumulated from consecutive sleepless nights weighed down his entire body.
He had also neglected his training lately, leaving his body just slightly out of balance.
The only artifacts he had brought were ones meant to restore and maintain his condition.
As for weapons, he carried nothing but the sword bestowed upon him by his father, the Emperor.
Darius ended his internal assessment and returned his attention to reality.
The roars of countless spectators flooded his ears.
“Hero Leon! You have to win!!”
“Don’t lose to that tyrant, Hero!”
“Go knock him flat, Leon!!”
The spectators, enraged by the operation Darius had forced through earlier that day, hurled insults without restraint.
Normally, such words would have been punished severely as crimes of disrespect against the Imperial Family.
But today was not a day when he could do that.
He was already well aware of the citizens’ distrust and resentment toward him.
Some of it was his own doing.
Normally, those voices would have grated on him.
They would have irritated him.
‘But not now.’
He had found a friend.
A brother.
That man trusted him and was cheering for him.
Now it was Darius’s turn to repay that faith.
“Leon Brave. First Hero, listen well.”
Darius opened his mouth and addressed the opponent before him.
A handsome young man with naturally light brown hair cut into a wolf cut.
A man who usually wore a cheerful smile wherever he went.
Today, however, his expression was grave.
“…Imperial Prince Darius. Is there something you wish to say?”
Leon disliked the way Darius had called him the ‘First Hero.’ Still, he hid his irritation and answered the summons. He deliberately refrained from showing excessive courtesy.
Darius knew exactly how Leon viewed him.
Leon did not see him as an Imperial Prince.
To Leon, rank and authority were little more than labels attached to a person.
Because Leon was, unmistakably, a Hero.
Darius did not care.
“Swear your loyalty to the Dritania Empire.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Promise that you will protect the homeland where you were born and raised.”
Leon listened in silence, then slowly shook his head.
“I can’t promise that. I have no intention of protecting only the Empire. As a Hero, I have to protect the whole world.”
“What absurd delusion. Do you truly believe such a thing is possible?”
Darius, an Imperial Prince, and Ex, a man who had seen the future, were both struggling with everything they had.
Neither of them ever said it aloud, but they both understood the truth down to their bones.
‘You cannot save everyone.’
All they could do was struggle desperately to save even one more person.
“Humans are not omnipotent. All a man can protect is the handful he can hold in his own grasp. Reach greedily for something else, and you will lose even what was already in your hand.”
“…”
“You sit comfortably in the shade created by people who spilled their blood and gave their lives, yet you still intend to indulge in fantasies? What you dream of is not romantic idealism. It is arrogance.”
Leon quietly closed his eyes.
For a fleeting moment, he contemplated those words.
Then he opened them again.
“I still can’t make that promise. I’ll walk my own path.”
There was no hesitation in his answer.
Darius had expected as much, and a smile touched his lips.
“I see. Then perhaps I asked too much.”
“…?”
“I suppose I, too, cannot embrace everyone. In that case.”
The match had begun some time ago.
Darius shot forward like a flash of light and swung his golden Aura Blade.
His target was Leon’s neck.
“Then prove that delusion of yours-!!”
Leon reacted instantly.
Clang!!
The sword in his right hand erupted with a blue Aura Blade. It snapped upward, knocking aside the blade racing for his throat.
Clang-! Clang! Claang-!
Darius continued swinging, relentlessly pressing forward.
At the same time, he rapidly analyzed Leon.
‘Leon’s proficiency with Protego Swordsmanship is almost unnaturally high. He’s polished enough to be called a complete martial artist. Above all, no one uses Root Severing, the ultimate technique of Protego Swordsmanship, better than he does.’
Root Severing was a technique that exploited the weakness exposed for the briefest instant, whether the target was steel or an Aura Blade, and severed it.
A single moment of carelessness could lead to disarmament.
But if the technique failed, the user’s blade would be violently knocked away, destroying their stance.
It was the very definition of high risk, high reward.
Of course, Leon had never once failed with Root Severing.
‘My swordsmanship, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about weaknesses. It simply overwhelms the enemy through relentless pressure until they’re forced to their knees. In a way, Leon’s swordsmanship is the complete opposite of mine.’
The nature of Darius’s golden aura further complemented his style.
Fierce.
Dense.
Heavy.
Its downward strikes in particular carried tremendous force.
Even blocking one made the defender feel as though something enormous were bearing down on them.
Anyone without sufficient skill would have their grip torn open after blocking a single strike.
‘Leon’s defending perfectly. His reactions are fast, too.’
At first, Leon had blocked several strikes head-on while searching for an opportunity to counterattack.
Now, rather than blocking them outright, he focused on redirecting the blows.
It was an excellent decision against Darius’s golden aura.
Indeed, Darius’s swordsmanship was exceptionally difficult to contest directly while creating an opening of one’s own.
But swordsmanship was far from the only weapon Leon possessed.
As a Hero, Leon had countless ways to introduce variables into a fight.
Shweeeek-!
Blue arrows formed around Leon and shot forward.
‘Magic…!’
Darius immediately withdrew his sword and created distance.
Rather than the pursuing Leon, he struck down the blue arrows first.
His response was so smooth that surprise flickered across Leon’s face.
But Leon quickly realized why.
‘He must’ve sparred with Ex.’
Aside from Leon, Ex was the only person capable of wielding internal energy, magic power, and divine power all at once.
And Ex had deep ties to Darius.
Leon’s guess was correct.
Darius had sparred with Ex several times.
He had already familiarized himself with how to respond to spells and bursts of divine power that appeared without warning.
Remembering those sparring sessions, Darius swung his sword.
‘All those times I put that bastard through the wringer are paying off…!’
Magic and divine power formed around Leon and flew toward him.
Darius dealt with each attack with a flexibility that surpassed expectations.
But Leon’s primary weapon was still his sword.
Amid the magic and divine power constantly creating openings and distractions, a razor-sharp blade came streaking in.
Slash-!
“Kh…!”
Darius was too slow.
A thin blue line appeared across his cheek.
It was merely the trace left by the spell that received attacks in place of the contestants.
He had not actually been injured, but the sight still created a moment of psychological hesitation.
Leon did not miss it.
Clang-!!
Now it was Leon’s turn to apply pressure.
Once Darius’s swordsmanship lost momentum, it was slow to regain it.
And now fatigue and shaken confidence were piling on top of that weakness.
‘Damn it…!’
Moments like this were unfamiliar to Darius, who had spent his entire life winning.
He was the one who ruled over others.
He was not the one who was driven back.
‘It has always been that way.’
With overwhelming strength, influence, and authority, he had forced everyone to their knees.
No one could escape his surveillance.
No one could hide from his gaze.
Lies were exposed.
Shameful secrets and vulnerabilities were dragged into the light.
That was how it had always been.
No.
That was how it had to be.
Because if he failed to do that, he would lose everything.
Leon’s swordsmanship flashed wildly, brilliant and razor-sharp.
Root Severing split through Darius’s Aura Blade and reached the physical sword beneath it.
Darius jerked his blade away just in time, only for divine power to slam into his solar plexus.
Boom!!
“Kahk…!”
The protective magic could prevent injuries.
It could not erase the impact.
Without Aura Armor, that blow would undoubtedly have knocked him unconscious.
His breath seized in his chest, and Leon’s sword came down toward his head.
‘I won’t let you…!!’
A sudden surge of stubborn defiance rose within him.
Darius leaped backward and rolled across the ground in an undignified tumble.
Dust stained his clothes.
Dirt smeared across his face.
He wiped the saliva from his mouth with his sleeve and stared straight ahead.
Leon simply stood there and waited for him in calm silence.
The spectators gaped in disbelief at the sight of the Imperial Prince.
“An Imperial Prince rolling around like that… How disgraceful.”
“Looks like he’ll be begging for his life the second things turn ugly…”
“And that’s supposed to be the man who’ll lead this Empire…?”
Then, subtly and quietly, they laughed at him.
Watching someone at the top fall was entertainment in itself.
‘I know.’
Because he stood at the highest point, falling had always terrified him.
And at the bottom of that fall waited countless blades.
The storms at the narrow summit were vicious.
There was nothing to hold onto.
He had always been alone, so he had been forced to make himself strong.
‘In the end, I’m only human too.’
No matter how much a person possessed, one man alone still had limits.
Until now, he had never reached those limits.
Now things were different.
The moment had finally come when he had no choice but to acknowledge them.
Leon charged toward Darius, who had regained his stance.
A will to save the world came crashing down upon a will to protect the Empire.
Ex had never told him the outcome.
But in the end, his defeat was probably inevitable.
‘So this is my defeat.’
The world itself, fate itself, had chosen Leon.
Darius’s desperate struggle was nothing more than a futile gesture.
“Darius.”
Then he heard someone call his name.
It wasn’t Ex.
That idiot was standing there with his lips pressed tight, watching in silence.
Even though he already knew how this ended.
Then who had called him?
The voice came again.
“Leave no regrets.”
“…”
Only after hearing it a second time did Darius know for certain.
It was the voice he had longed so desperately to hear.
The voice that had haunted his dreams.
A voice he had once believed he would never hear again.
At the sound of it, the corners of Darius’s mouth slowly rose.
And at last, he gave the answer he had wanted to give for so long.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Bang!
He slammed his lead foot into the ground and steadied his wavering center of balance.
Abandoning defense entirely, he raised his sword high and assumed his stance.
His eyes were no longer fixed on Leon’s sword.
They were fixed on Leon himself.
A ferocious sword charge.
Prepared magic.
Radiant divine power.
So what?
What the hell was Darius supposed to do about it?
‘One strike. I’ll decide everything with this one strike…!’
Words Ex had once spoken surfaced in his mind.
‘You don’t need to change, Your Highness. Just remain where you are with your head held high, as an Imperial Prince, like you always have.’
No.
This time, you’re wrong.
Sometimes, there comes a moment when a man must cast aside his title as Imperial Prince.
Here, against the Hero standing before him, Darius was no Imperial Prince.
He was a martial artist.
Wooooooooong-!!
He poured every last shred of internal energy into his Aura Blade.
Even the internal energy sustaining his Aura Armor was drawn into the sword.
He staked everything on a once-in-a-lifetime gamble he normally never would have dared to make.
Papapapak-!!
“Kh…!”
Magic and divine power battered his entire body, but he ignored them.
Pain tore through him, shaking him to his core, but Darius clenched his teeth and endured.
There was only one thing he had to do now.
The instant his brilliantly shining golden aura erupted, he brought his sword down upon Leon with every ounce of strength he possessed!
“…!”
Leon sensed the danger.
That sword could not be stopped with Root Severing.
He had already closed to point-blank range with the Imperial Prince, so it was too late to evade.
Only one option remained.
A direct contest of strength.
KABOOOOOM-!!!!!
Exploding golden aura collided with surging blue aura.
The clash of those two differently colored forces shook the entire arena.
Darius, whose entire body was battered, whose exhaustion had left him in the worst possible condition.
Leon, whose inner growth and abilities had both advanced, and who stood at the absolute peak of his condition.
The outcome should have been obvious.
Yet everyone held their breath and watched.
Even those who had been insulting Darius only moments before fell silent.
Straining under the pressure, Darius twisted his mouth into a crooked smile.
Strangely enough, in that moment, he looked a little like his friend.
“Hey, First Hero. What was all that nonsense about saving the world? The more I hear it, the harder it is not to laugh.”
“…What exactly are you trying to say?”
“There’s a bastard trying to save the world somewhere you don’t even know about. He pretends he’s a realist. Pretends he’s always making compromises, but…”
Darius’s sword pushed forward.
“That bastard is the one who truly refuses to face reality and chases some ridiculous romantic dream. Maybe it’s because he’s already seen more of this cruel reality than anyone should ever have to.”
“…I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
Darius’s sword moved a little farther forward.
“What is that look in your eyes? Are those really the eyes of a man chasing the grand dream of saving the world?! Because no matter how I look at them, those eyes…!”
Darius’s sword advanced another fraction.
“Only see the reality right in front of you!!”
At that instant, Leon’s previously emotionless eyes trembled.
Only slightly.
For the briefest fraction of a second.
But that tiny tremor decided the match.
…Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be.
Leon breaks Darius’s will.
Leon refuses to bow before Darius’s tyranny.
Darius cannot accept his defeat.
The two become irreconcilable enemies, doomed never to coexist.
That was the development everyone wanted.
That was the natural course of fate.
CLAAANG-!!!
A severed blade spun through the air.
The exploding golden aura scattered away as the internal energy sustaining it vanished.
The blue aura still burned with pure, steady brilliance.
Both men had already completed their swings, their swords now pointed toward the ground.
One of them had already been struck by the other’s blade.
…That was how it should have been.
The reason Darius lost in the original story had been clear.
His will had been fragile.
His father, the Emperor, had stood at death’s door, while the true identity of his younger sister Beatrice had fallen under suspicion.
Paranoia had eaten away at him until he could trust no one.
…That was how things should have been.
But someone had changed the circumstances.
Someone had pushed back the Emperor’s death.
Someone had rescued Beatrice’s soul.
Someone had become a person Darius could trust.
That chain of events had strengthened Darius’s will.
The difference was tiny.
Barely the width of a hair.
But his will had been stronger than his opponent’s.
“…I lost.”
The one whose sword had broken was the cheerful young man with light brown hair.
The one with a line drawn across his body was Hero Leon.
Darius had won.
–TL Notes–
Tired of seeing Ads? Then please support me on Patreon! Any tier of subscription will make it so you won't get any ads!
If you want to support me or give me feedback, you can do it at patreon.com/InsanityTheGame
Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/BWaP3AHHpt