2.9

The brightest flame

‘It hurts! Oh it hurts so bad!’

Hiro clutched his head which was bursting open inside out. Even so, he tried to look at what was happening. From the distance, he could see someone familiar. It was Caron, who has her medical bag with her.

The woman was shocked by what she comes across. Two building demolished, people lying around, broken. She could hear Victor, calling out to her.

“Lewis, it’s been a while!”

She immediately rushed to his side, awaiting further instruction.

“Oh wait, you are a Pryce now, I forgot. Silly me”

“Teach, what do I need to do”

“Always straight to the point huh. Wait a bit”

The moment he finished his sentence, Victor disintegrated into black smoke which swept through the battlefield. It engulfed all the injured, Hiro, Malcolm and Suiren and dragged them back with great speed but surprising care.

When the young man was brought back to Willow’s side, Victor had reformed himself again.

“Pryce, tends to the princess, I will handle these three”

Hiro: {Princess?} Momo-chan: [Princess?]

“But, my measly blood won’t be able to heal her!”

“You were my brightest student, do what you have to. I grant you permission to”

Accepting that, Caron raised her right hand and looked at it intensely. The body part soon turned into black smoke, going into Willow’s body.

“That’s my girl”

Victor turned back to them removing his gloves. In both of his palms were a smiley face formed by… nails, numerous nails! His hands then also disintegrated into smoke, entering Malcolm and Suiren. The youth was rather disturbed by what was going on but being a big boy, he raised no query.

Smoke came out of their wound, healing them at an astounding rate. Soon there were no sign of injury on them anymore.

This was only amazing on the outside though, Victor simply healed the more pressing wounds and closed them to prevent blood loss. Other internal injuries he would dealt with later, there was another patient here that requires more attention.

The doctor turned to Hiro and put his hand on the young man head. Black smoke seeped out of his fingers into the young man brain, easing the pain to a more bearable level.

Having regained a tiny bit of strength, Hiro immediately turned to the knight. The young man noticed something, Conrad’s stance was similar to the one Willow used with only a few minor differences. Conrad huh, this was the first time he had heard the man name.

Strangely enough, the battle hadn’t started yet. The two opponents waited for the other to make the first move.

That person would be the Legionnaire who doled out a crushing blow. In that instance, the normally slow and quiet Conrad suddenly sprung to life. He dodged the attack by just a less than an inch. There was no counter though, the man simply retreated back to neutral.

‘Is he testing me?’

The Legionnaire thought to himself. He then threw out a flurry of slashes, full of openings.

Even so, Conrad kept dodging them all by a tiny margin every time. In the end, he once again dashed back into neutral.

“What is he doing? There is so many openings for any counterattack?”

Questioned Willow, who was confused by the man action.

“That’s why you were the first to be out” Malcolm said mockingly.

“Ugh… what does that even mean!”

“You truly think a guy like that would make so many mistakes?”

“That…”

Victor stood between the two “Now, now, this isn’t time to argue. Please pardon the princess, she is still lacking in experience” He had finished treating Hiro’s headache, the young man was propped up to see what was going on.

There was something he didn’t understand though. The halo gone, how come the Roman was still fighting them.

Meanwhile, the Legionnaire continued to push forward. Conrad had seen through his ruse. Despite showing so many openings, his enhanced strength allowed the captain to recover before any sort of counterattack could be dealt. But still, his opponent couldn’t just fall back forever.

His stamina endless, the Legionnaire dealt out blows after blows, each strong enough to sever a man in half even with his short sword. Until finally, he could see glimmer of steel. Conrad finally attacked back, stabbing him with his long sword. The Legionnaire grinned and swung his shield around to counter it only to find… nothing. It was a feint and the tip of the long sword was near his left elbow, one of his unarmoured part.

The Legionnaire reacted in an instant, swinging his shield while moving back at the same time. He had hoped that would result in a parry but no, that attack was a feint as well. Conrad once again retreated back to neutral.

On the outside, the brief exchange seemed to be purposeless.

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But for Conrad, who was facing an overwhelming opponent, it was a valuable source of information. The Legionnaire had deliberately used his shield for defensive purpose only. But back then, he swung that giant thing as effortlessly and with as much skill as his short sword.

That was his trick, luring the enemy in then destroyed them with his scutum.

The Legionnaire charged forward and to his surprise, Conrad did the same. The man swung his long sword only to whiff it at the last moment. Before the captain could see that he only used one hand Conrad is already reaching his neck with the axe on his left hand.

‘This is over’

Too bad, despite trying to hide it, the Legionnaire could see the man secretly reaching for the axe. The captain parried the attack with his shield, the force of that would unstable his opponent enough for a kill. The moment the scutum touched the axe, it flew of Conrad hand. He had let it go at the final moment possible.

And now it was the Legionnaire who was in the open from the parry attempt.

Conrad gripped the sword with his two hands and thrusted it straight to the captain’s throat. Sparks fly as the Legionnaire jumps back into neutral.

“What happened there!”

That was supposed to be the killing blow! Willow couldn’t see how that didn’t work. Hiro was even worse, he couldn’t really follow anything at all, the young man could only watch in silent.

Malcolm could though but he can’t be asked to share. At that instant, the Roman lowered his head enough to catch the blade between his mask and chest armour. Was that kind of reflex even possible, the youth thought to himself.

“This place is certainly full of monsters” He mused out loud then turned to Willow “Then there is you”

The girl could do nothing about that remark but stayed silent in frustration.

Conrad, meanwhile, was in a bind. That was his last resort of sort. A normal fight didn’t last this long, a few exchanges were enough and in his case, usually only one was needed. But the Legionnaire was undoubtedly the best swordsman he ever clashed with, and he had fought many throughout the Holy Roman Empire. Then there was the superhuman strength.

He only had his rondel dagger left, that would have to make do.

The vagabond extended his finger and pressed it onto the dull part above the cross guard of his sword, the ricasso. His left hand let go of the hilt to grab the middle of the blade instead. If this didn’t work only death await.

Hiro was of course, baffled by this “Is he, grabbing the sword…”

“That’s half-sword, you grab the blade for more leverage. It’s a technique I was also taught”

Willow explained immediately. But still, she couldn’t see why Conrad would do that. The Legionnaire was especially deadly at close quarter, his short sword and shield would mince anyone to pieces. Before, Conrad could let some stab in due to the range of the long sword. But now he seemed to sacrifice that for what?

The vagabond even initiated the exchange this time.

The Legionnaire was also baffled by this. Had that man finally decided to die? No, the captain discarded that thought. Someone that formidable wouldn’t just do something like this with no plan of sort.

And so, the two clashed again in what seems like a blink of an eye.

Conrad thrusted his sword forward, a straightforward attack. The captain waited for a feint of sort and it arrived, different from what he had expected. The vagabond released the hand on top of the cross guard and swung the sword backward at his opponent. His left hand slid up to hold the top of the blade.

The cross guard went straight behind the Legionnaire neck and with that, Conrad yanked the sword toward him, hooking the captain forward.

A surprise attack, but the Legionnaire could see what would come next. Conrad right hand now had the dagger, ready to stab his unstable opponent. But alas, the captain had kept an eye on that for a long time now.

He swung his shield toward that hitting Conrad hand. A dry crack could be heard as the dagger fell the ground. The scutum kept on moving though, colliding into the man body.

The Legionnaire could feel an energy surge as the battle came to an end, he had won. But as he looked straight the vagabond’s eyes, the captain realised he was wrong. Conrad dodged straight into the Legionnaire body while still hooking onto the man. He pushed his sword forward, grinding the captain throat along the steel blade.

The force of the shield hit Conrad away, his right hand crushed, his ribs broken.

Nevertheless, he landed on his feet just in time to see blood spill from his opponent’s throat.

All the spectators were baffled, they couldn’t see what had actually gone down in that instantaneous exchange.

The Legionnaire clutched his wound, he could feel the blood draining out of him. Even in this final moment, his mind was still thinking about what went wrong. If he had thought of that, would the knife be the thing to reach his throat instead? No he did nothing wrong, the vagabond was simply better. For him to dodge into the shield like that…

The captain was starting to feel numbness as his life faded away. He had been bested. For a warrior without a country to fight for, this was a good death. And yet, the Legionnaire was still restless. That desire inside him still burned, the desire to prove himself. But for what, he didn’t even know.

In his mind was an image of water, and in the reflection, he could see someone.

Could it be, with the last of his strength, the Legionnaire removed his gauntlets. He then looked at his arms. Still so muscular but something was different from his memory of glory. The captain gazed at his palms, his fingers to find them old and wrinkled.

The image in his mind cleared to reveal what was in the reflection, a sad old man.

Someone way past his prime, whose usefulness had run dry. A mighty centurion, once, he never cared to learn about politics or economics. So when his fighting days were over, the Legionnaire retired to a valued position but could do nothing but watch as the world passed him by.

A sad old man who donned his old armour, who could do nothing but reminiscing.

His mind was then bombarded with memories. All the deeds of the past, the countless battles replaced with days and months and years of nothingness. Now everything was so heavy. The captain dropped his shield. But he couldn’t seem to let go of his sword.

The Legionnaire wanted to scream out but his throat is cut, his face bonded. No, he wouldn’t go out like this! He wouldn’t go out with this sad realisation!

‘To die while revelling in despair like this is unacceptable’

The mighty centurion stood up tall and let out a muffled scream of determination.

“How!” None of the spectators could understand.

“Every captain is granted superhuman strength and to a degree, regeneration ability. He is corrupted, however, and that let him to push his body even further” Victor theorised, that would explain the story the townsfolks told him about a spear that pierced the beast “Perhaps that’s why this particular captain is stronger and faster than any I have encountered. Nevertheless, leave him be. That body is spent, he will go down soon”

That last part was directed toward Conrad, who was standing still.

The Legionnaire could feel such power, but it was one he knew would soon be gone. Death had it grips on him and wouldn’t let go. It was suffocating. The centurion ripped his armour open, tearing the leather strips holding the thing together.

The vagabond looked at him and slowly reached up to remove his helmet.

This was the first time Hiro, or anyone here had ever seen his face. The man had messy blond hair that was tied at the back. He looked in his thirties but the man’s eyes were so weary.

Conrad placed his broken right hand on his left shoulder for a few moments. He then readed his weapon, ready for engagement once again. Ignoring Victor’s suggestion. The two clashed for the last time.

The Legionnaire could feel the blade cutting into him. Even with one hand, Conrad was still a formidable opponent. The centurion attacked back rapidly, each blow faster and stronger than the last. None of his hits could connect. Meanwhile, the vagabond, more aggressive than ever, continued to cut him up.

The two continued their intense exchange until, finally, the Legionnaire dropped to his knees.

He was too injured, filled with cuts, his body completely spent. Still, the centurion found himself lucky. To be able to cross blades with someone like this was a better end than what he could ever hope for.

‘So, this is the end’

Conrad placed his right hand on his left shoulder. The Legionnaire head tilted down and he remained there quietly, still clutching his sword.