Chapter 817
In this second-year group exam, there exists an element called the Sealing Stone.
It is an artifact directly created by the necromancer of the Cards, Endolas Vaudeville, and if an examinee seizes the Sealing Stone, they can weaken the power of the Volcanic Lord that will appear twenty hours later.
Of course, since the Volcanic Lord has yet to appear, there is no immediate effect, nor any personal merit, but Simon was heading in the direction where the Sealing Stone was located.
‘Might as well earn some points along the way, while I’m at it.’
Discovering new terrain first also grants points.
The Sealing Stone would be no exception, and as soon as Simon arrived on the central island, he spotted a spiky stele rising in the vicinity, and began walking toward it.
Tak, tak.
The soil was black. With every step, the ground crumbled and clouds of dust scattered violently. It was terrain that could collapse easily under impact, so Simon filed that information away in his mind.
He then raised his head and checked the direction of the crater.
It looked as though it might boil over at any moment, but there wasn’t much change from when he had first seen it.
‘Maybe it’ll erupt only after the Volcanic Lord appears.’
While analyzing the surrounding environment, he soon arrived before the Sealing Stone.
It was, as the name suggested, a tall stele. Runes were engraved on its body, emitting a faint glow.
‘How was it supposed to activate again?’
Recalling the contents of the guidebook, Simon slowly placed his hand on the Sealing Stone.
Wooooong—!
Even before infusing Darkness, the Sealing Stone resonated brightly. Simon frowned slightly and withdrew his hand.
It was already active.
Which meant…
‘Someone’s already here……’
Ssssshhhhhh—!
Suddenly, the hair all over his body stood on end, and the nape of his neck went stiff. From behind the Sealing Stone, where he thought no one was, he felt the presence of another.
Rustle—
The person rose from leaning against the Sealing Stone.
A somewhat small frame, draped in a coat-like cloak that reached up to his neck, a longsword as tall as himself hanging at his waist.
Ranked tenth overall, representative of Magical Combat.
The Cursed Sword User, Jule Vincere.
Simon had crossed paths with him a few times during school life, but there was one noticeable change in his appearance.
‘He sealed his eyes?’
Before, he had only covered one eye with an eyepatch, but now both eyes were completely bound in bandages.
Chuk.
As Jule placed his hand on the hilt of his demonic sword, Simon tensed and opened his mouth.
“L–long time no see! Jule.”
From Jule’s body emanated hostility. Watching, Feer’s clone chuckled and spoke through thought.
[This boy has already been deeply devoured by the demonic sword!]
‘Is he dangerous?’
[Yes, very dangerous.]
Even Simon could tell he wasn’t in a normal state of mind. Sweat trickled down his temples, but he tried to continue the conversation.
“Did you… claim this Sealing Stone?”
Jule nodded once.
At least there seemed to be room for communication.
“I see! It’s best to secure these Sealing Stones in advance before fighting the Volcanic Lord. Well then, I’ll be on my way.”
Clench.
What had been a casual grip on the hilt suddenly tightened.
The veins bulged on the back of his hand.
Simon reacted instantly.
Shhhhhhhaaaak!
An ominous, pitch-black slash was drawn across the air like a brushstroke. Simon jerked his body backward just in time, then darted his eyes behind him.
The surrounding trees split open, their pale rings exposed.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
There was no visible movement of drawing and swinging the sword.
The concealed-style quick-draw swordsmanship using the cursed sword was Jule’s trademark.
“Wait, calm down.”
Simon raised his palm.
“There’s no need for Keyzen students to fight each other.”
“It may be unnecessary for you, but it is not so for me.”
He adjusted his stance, gripping the hilt.
“I told you last year, did I not? Next time, I would challenge you in a more complete state.”
Honestly, Simon had no memory of that.
But desperately recalling, he thought perhaps something like that had been said during last year’s BMAT exam when they fought.
“Now’s not the time! Once this exam ends, I’ll accept a duel request or whatever you—”
Shhhhhhhaaaaak!
This time, the slash curved sharply. Simon leaned back, but several strands of hair were cut off. A chill ran through his gut.
“In official duels within the academy, there are too many restrictions. Especially for my demonic sword.”
Jule raised the blade to his stomach and reversed his grip.
“This moment, this instant—this is the only chance to throw everything I have at you!”
He was serious.
That necromancers were insane was nothing new, but Jule radiated something even more bottomless, like a swamp.
“Damn it!”
Shhhk!
Shhhhaaak!
Jule’s attacks began. Simon sprinted to the opposite side, the ground scarred everywhere by slashes.
“You won’t escape!”
‘He’s faster than before!’
Though outwardly Jule only seemed to stand gripping the hilt, he was indeed swinging the blade.
Drawing the sword, slashing, and resheathing—these actions were skipped by the cursed sword’s power, treated as if already completed.
For those brief motions, causality was inverted—power akin to reality manipulation. No matter what, one could not see the sword being swung.
‘I need to adapt quickly!’
Sight and sound gave no information about the sword’s direction. Only instinct could guide him.
Simon heightened all his senses when—
<Jule’s Original – Upma>
Without giving him time to adapt, Jule unleashed his secret technique.
Shhhhaaaak!
Shhhhaaak!
A flurry of strikes from the cursed sword.
From the left, a long slash cut off Simon’s charge. From above, a diagonal slash forced him into a jump.
And in the instant Simon was helplessly airborne—
“!”
Focusing his instinct, Simon felt as if a long tunnel enclosed him and Jule together.
Their distance was a straight line.
From the scabbard, an image appeared—a terrifying monster glaring with wide eyes.
A black line shot from the scabbard in a straight path, piercing through his body, the future flashed across his mind.
‘At this rate, I’ll be hit!’
If he couldn’t dodge, he had to block.
In that instant.
Simon instinctively opened subspace first, while countless simulations spun through his mind.
Defensive magic? It would be cleaved apart.
Zombies, ghouls, skeletons from subspace? All would be cut in two.
The Dragonian Suit? If summoned without a barrier, it too would be destroyed. Too late to deploy the barrier.
Something solid.
Simon needed something truly solid, something that could withstand the cursed sword.
The moment he recognized exactly what was required—
‘……!’
Simon’s hand reached into subspace without hesitation.
Kaaaaaaaang!
Simon pulled out an object and raised it before him, and immediately the slash struck. The black darkness slash clashed against it, grinding and spinning in an X-shaped pattern.
Jule, watching the situation, frowned.
‘He blocked Upma?’
Kagagagagagagak!
Simon’s body was pushed back for a long distance before he finally managed to stop on the ground.
Jule, too, halted his assault, catching his breath as he stared straight ahead.
‘That strike, one I launched even at the risk of damaging the cursed sword… what did he block it with?’
Flap!
The object Simon had used to stop Upma was revealed.
A pitch-black staff, featureless, unnaturally dark.
And atop it, a flag of Darkness fluttered.
“You… that weapon….”
Thump!
Jule couldn’t finish his words.
Suddenly, something was wrong. The cursed sword at his waist began to twitch violently within its scabbard.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
It was being drawn and re-sheathed madly over and over. Jule hurriedly grabbed hold of it.
“Wh-what is this! What’s happening!”
“Kh—!”
Clutching the sword, Jule dropped to one knee, but the twitching only grew more violent.
[Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!]
Voices poured out of the cursed sword.
[I can’t endure any longer! I’ll take your body myself!]
Freeze.
Jule’s movements stopped.
Suddenly, he dropped his head, his arms dangling like limp tentacles.
Feeling an ominous premonition, Simon instantly thrust the flag forward. And indeed—within the blink of an eye, Jule came spinning down from above, sword in hand.
Kaaaaaaaang!
The ground overturned, soil bursting like wildfire. Through the rising dust, Jule—possessed by the cursed sword—lurched, raising the blade.
‘He drew the cursed sword?’
As he split the dust cloud in two, Jule’s sword emitted a horrifying gleam.
The seal of the scabbard had been broken.
“Keuk! Hahahahaha!”
Jule laughed madly, swinging the sword savagely. Each strike was sharp enough to split even a Dragonian Suit as though it were dough.
Chaaang!
Kaaaaaang!
Simon had no choice but to brace desperately with the flag.
‘This flag is incredibly tough.’
But there was no time for admiration. Simon shouted urgently.
“Jule! Snap out of it!”
[Kehuhuhu! The boy has finally been overtaken by the demonic sword!]
“Feer, why did the sword suddenly go berserk?”
Even as he asked, Simon already suspected the answer.
His gaze fell on the flag in his hand.
—Though in the form of a flag, this was a holy sword.
A holy sword.
Aron had indeed called it that. Though in its current state it could hardly be called one, Jule’s sword going berserk proved that this object itself was the cause.
He had to put it away immediately.
“Royal Guard!”
Skeletons burst forth from Simon’s subspace, and at the same time, emerald light struck down like lightning, transforming them into Royal Guard.
With trails of teal light, the Royal Guard rushed at Jule from all sides like bullets.
[Do not interfere!]
Even the demonic sword controlling Jule could only make him take defensive movements.
In that moment—
“Heave-ho!”
Simon quickly hurled the flag back into subspace and sealed it.
He could have fought using the flag’s power, but stopping the demonic sword’s rampage took priority.
Thankfully, the effect was immediate.
As he fought against the Royal Guard, Jule suddenly lifted his head, regaining his senses. He hurriedly retreated and forced the demonic sword back into its scabbard.
The sword resisted to the end, but finally, Jule managed to seal it shut.
Breathing heavily, he looked at Simon.
“……I’ve shown you a shameful sight. What in the world was that thing?”
Simon, likewise trying to steady his trembling hands, replied.
“It’d take too long to explain.”
He felt utterly wretched. Just holding that flag made his insides twist and churn.
It was the problem of wielding an heirloom weapon meant for another. That weapon was meant for its true master—the Corrupted Death Knight.
“…It seems, you’ve even acquired a holy sword.”
Jule slowly raised his stance again.
“I no longer have a single advantage against you.”
Simon flinched.
“Wait, what? You’re still going to fight?”
“Of course.”
Once again, his fighting spirit surged.
“I… who have thrown away everything, I want to see how far I can reach against one who holds everything.”
“You’ve got it wrong! That wasn’t even a holy sword, and I can’t even use it properly!”
“Take your stance, Simon Follentia.”
He spoke firmly.
“Unless you wish to be expelled.”
“……”
Hearing that, Simon lowered his hand, then let out a soft sigh.
“Don’t regret this.”
“Of course not.”
Step!
Step!
Step!
Skeletons with fluttering cloaks marched one by one around Simon.
But these were no ordinary skeletons. Their weapons were not swords, but the great spears used by knights.
This was the new undead Simon had acquired from Vanilla—the Colotan Skeletons—made into Royal Guard.
<Simon’s Original – Royal Guard>
“Here I come.”
Simon donned a crown of Cloud upon his head.
Jule gripped the sword’s hilt harshly, and Simon prepared to send the Royal Guard charging.
At that moment of imminent clash—
“Simon.”
A girl’s voice rang between them.
“……!”
Bang!
A mysterious attack struck Jule.
He blocked it with the demonic sword but was driven backward.
Simon, startled by the sudden interference, turned his head to trace its source.
“Stop.”
Someone radiating overwhelming presence, was slowly approaching from the distance.
“The one who has business with Simon, is me.”
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