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The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master Chapter 352: Ragnarok (4)

Chapter 352: Ragnarok (4)

Generally,⁠ a giant is​‍ said to be‍‍​ a person of​ great stature.

But.​

Bwooooooo!⁠​‌

Sometimes,‌ a “giant” also‌ refers to a historical figure or‌ hero who defined⁠ an era.

Not​‍ for their visible‍‍​ size, but because​‍ the spirit within⁠ them is colossal.⁠​​

Swoosh!​⁠‍

The‌⁠ banner had an‌‌ imposing presence.

At‍​ the tip of⁠‌⁠ the tightly held‍ lance, an energy⁠‌​ gathered that seemed‌ intent on piercing‍​​ the heavens.

Son‍‌‍ of the Swordmaster,‌​ father of the⁠ Swordmaiden.

Orion​‍ von Nibelung looked​‌ up at the‌ sky for a moment.

The​‍‌ sky was clear.⁠​

How‍ long had it‍​ been since he‍ last felt the‌​ Grace of the⁠‌ Sun God? A blend of joy​‌‌ and sorrow made​‌⁠ his nose burn.‍

Though​ war loomed before⁠‍​ his eyes, Orion’s‍⁠ heart was full.‍‌⁠ Orion and the‍ summoned were heroes‌‌ who had once​​​ ruled their era.​

Veteran‍‍‍ soldiers who preferred⁠‌ combat boots to​ soft slippers, and‌ war songs to‌‍⁠ lullabies.

As‍⁠ Orion felt that​‍​ elation, he saw​​ an old man​‌ with completely white​⁠ hair.

His‍‍ wide eyes were⁠‌ astonishing—because never, not‍‍‍ once in his​​​ life, had he⁠​ shown such an⁠‍​ expression.

“…Father.”​‌

A chuckle escaped along‍​⁠ with his whisper.‌‍‌

It‌​ was strange to​ see the ever-strict‍ Swordmaster so surprised.⁠‍

“I‌ wanted to be​ recognized by you.”‌​

It​‍ was time to‌ speak honestly.

“I​​ always thought that‌‍‌ stern yet gentle​⁠ image of yours‍‌ was the comfort​ of the strong​ toward the weak.⁠‍ I might have‍ even had a bit of an⁠‍ inferiority complex toward​ you.”

Shing.​

“I’ve‍ thought about it‍ for decades. And‌ now I know.”​​‍ He drew his‌​ sword.

“Father,⁠‍ you simply loved​‍​ me sincerely.”

Orion⁠⁠ von Nibelung raised⁠⁠​ his sword.

A beam of sunlight‍ filtered through the​ clouds, descending along‍ the blade.

“I’m​‍⁠ sorry. My arrogance​ caused you pain.”‌

From​ afar, the warriors’​ banners began to‌ tilt to the‍‌⁠ side, like pages​ of a book⁠⁠ being closed.

The​⁠‌ precision of their‍ formation sent chills.​‍‍ The carefully aligned​​ battle energy fortified⁠‍ the battlefield.

Fwoosh.‍⁠‍

Once​ the vanguard had‌‍ deployed all banners,​ Orion lowered his⁠​ gaze from the​‌ sky.

Then,‌‍⁠ he looked sternly⁠ at the enemy.​‌

“Thank‍‌ you, Heavenly Sword.”​‍‌

A golden light flashed‍ in his eyes.‌‌

“For⁠‍ giving me this‍​‌ chance to apologize.”​

The‌ tips of the⁠​​ banners were sharp.‌

All‍‌⁠ the warriors pointed‌ them—at those insectoid‍ demons baring teeth​ like rabid sharks.‌⁠

“All‌‌ of you!”

These​​‌ were warriors who‍ spoke not with⁠​‍ words, but with⁠‍‍ spears and swords.​⁠

“Arms‌ forward!”

Kwooooom—‍

With​​ each step of⁠⁠ the giant, the​‌⁠ earth trembled. Charge​ after charge.

Both‍⁠‍ armies surged forward⁠‍ with fury toward⁠⁠​ the enemy.

BOOOOOM—!⁠⁠

Waves‍‍ of light and​ darkness interwove.

Michelan‍ alone waved his‌ banner among the‍ others, lifting the​ heroes’ morale.

“May​​‍ the blessing of⁠​​ the gods be‍ with us!”

Episode:⁠​‍ Gigantomachia

“…What’s‍‌‍ happening?”

“And‌ you’re still surprised‌‍⁠ at eighty, old‌‌ man.”

Media‌ said it with‌ a satisfied smile.‌​

However⁠​‌ they had come‌‍​ to this point,‍⁠⁠ what mattered now‍ was that they⁠‍ had another chance.​​

“Waaah—aaaaaah—!”‌

A victorious cry pierced‍​ the sea of⁠ demons.

The⁠ swords, spears, and‍⁠⁠ banners impaled them⁠ one after another.‌

And⁠⁠​ they weren’t even​‌‌ mounted. Still, their‍ speed was astonishing.‍

The‌ heroes’ long-suppressed thirst⁠ for battle had⁠‍ transformed into omnipotence.‍

Who‌​⁠ could stop a veteran with sky-high‍ morale?

The​‍‍ insectoid demons also​⁠ charged with the⁠​‍ ferocity of evil‍​​ gods, but were⁠​ swept away by⁠ overwhelming force.

From⁠‍⁠ above, it looked‌​‍ like a golden‌‍‌ wave devouring a bright green swamp.‍​⁠

The‍⁠‌ war on the‌‌​ plain was literally​ dazzling—it stirred the‌‍ heart of anyone​​ who saw it.‌‍​

The⁠ army of the‍⁠‍ dead held nothing‌‍ back. Their majesty⁠⁠ surpassed even that​ of their descendants.‍

With⁠‍ a single blade⁠​ of steel, these‍⁠ warriors had etched​‌‌ more than one⁠ line into history.‍⁠

Warriors‌⁠ who entrusted their⁠‍​ backs to comrades.‍⁠​

With‍ all their strength,‍‌‌ they carved a path through the​‌ blood-soaked carnage.

The‌​​ sound of clashing‌ metal was oddly‍ comforting.

Slash!‌​‍

Orion⁠⁠ von Nibelung charged‍⁠ forward, sword in​​⁠ hand.

Every⁠ demon touched by​ his blade was‍⁠‍ cleaved in two,‌​ dying instantly.

He‍⁠ wiped the blood​​​ from his face‍​​ and quickly repositioned.​‌‍

“The‍⁠​ King of the‌ Dead is watching‌‍ us!”

The⁠ warriors roared in‌⁠​ jubilation, following their⁠ commander.

All⁠ their pent-up resentment‌ exploded in their⁠‍ strikes. Bursts, shockwaves,‍‍ cracks—blood boiled.

If​‍​ anything like an‍‍‌ invincible army existed,‍​‍ it was them.‍

Thump,⁠⁠ thump.

The⁠⁠⁠ Swordmaster placed a hand over his‌‍ chest.

Media​ smiled so broadly⁠‌ it made the‌ corners of her⁠ eyes tremble.

“We‌​‍ can’t shame ourselves‌ before our ancestors,⁠‌⁠ can we?”

The​ Swordmaster smiled too.‍

“That’s‍ right.”

“Let’s⁠‍ go.”

Meain⁠​‍ of Total Force‌ unfolded her crossed​‌ arms.

“Siegfried,⁠⁠⁠ Media.”

“Yes.”⁠

“Mhm.”‌‌

The‌ Swordmaster and Media​⁠⁠ narrowed their eyes.⁠‍⁠

They​ sharpened their aura.⁠​​

They‌‍ honed themselves.

They⁠⁠‍ separated their presence⁠ from the world.‍‌

In⁠​⁠ a state of​​ absolute concentration, they‍ traced the threads​‌ of mana.

They‌‌​ reversed the anomalies​⁠‍ of the world.​⁠‌ An idea possible⁠ only due to​ vast experience.

Crackle,‍⁠​ crackle, crackle.

Time‍‌ slowed. The moment​ the Hero of‌ the Seven Stars⁠ locked her gaze,‍​‌ the world resumed‍‍‌ its normal flow.‌‌

Awakening⁠⁠ of the Blessing⁠‍

The‌⁠​ awakening consumed life.‌‍

That’s​‌⁠ why Meain Poison⁠​​ had always sternly‌ warned them.

All​⁠ the Seven Stars‍⁠ were at the‍‍⁠ edge of that‌⁠ limit. But now,‍ the situation had‌‍⁠ changed.

Mana⁠ had flooded the​ human realm—just like⁠ when Balor Joaquin‌‍ once built a “special pavilion” to‍ shield his disciples.‍‍

That​⁠⁠ mana, normally toxic‍ to humans, now‌⁠⁠ prevented the Seven’s‌​ blessings from being⁠​‍ devoured by corruption.‌‍‌

Hff—!⁠⁠

Media‍‌​ felt a chill‌ down her spine.‍​ The omnipotence almost​​ numbed her brain.​​

The‍ sword she carried‍‌‌ was aimed directly‌ at the giant’s​‍⁠ eye.

But‍ just before it‍‌‌ struck, Media flipped‍​‌ like a gymnast.​‍

And‌‍⁠ leapt.

BOOM!​

She⁠⁠⁠ stabbed. The giant​ grabbed his eye.‍‌‌

As‍ she landed, Media‍ sprinted up his​ arm and instantly‌ reached his brow.⁠

“Stay​​‍ still.”

Crash!⁠

The​‌​ blow landed hard.‍ The giant’s head⁠ jerked backward.

On​ the back of‌ his neck, another‍ woman delivered a powerful kick with‌ a leg arched⁠⁠‌ to her waist.⁠⁠‌

Booom!​​‌

The‌ giant’s head swayed​ like a rubber⁠ ball on a string.

As⁠‌‍ they watched the‍​​ two women in⁠‌ action, the Swordmaster‌‍ and Changseong didn’t‍‍ stand idle.

Behind‌‍‍ the Swordmaster, ten‌ swords spread in​⁠​ concentric circles—his ultimate​ multi-sword technique.

Immediately‌‌​ afterward, the circles‌​ expanded, targeting the​ giant’s eyes, neck,‍‌ center of the‍‍​ face, chest, back​ of the knees,⁠‍​ and inner elbows.​

The⁠​ Swordmaster also jammed‍‍​ his sword into⁠⁠⁠ a rock fissure‍‍⁠ and advanced zigzag‍​⁠ through the gaps.​‌⁠

Clang-clang-clang!⁠

The‍⁠ blade cut cleanly,‍⁠ not even dulling‌​⁠ against the stone.⁠​​

“Grandpa!”‌​

“Abel.”​‍

For⁠ a brief moment,​ he locked eyes‌ with his granddaughter,​⁠ who had climbed​​ onto the giant’s⁠ body.

They‌​ nodded, as if⁠‌ they had rehearsed‍⁠ the move countless⁠ times, and immediately​ sliced off a rocky protrusion.

As⁠‍ they did, green⁠ crystals began to⁠​ sprout from various​ parts of the‌ golem’s body.

No‌ one needed to‌⁠ say it aloud—it‌⁠ was obvious those‍⁠​ crystals were its​ vital points.

The‌​ Swordmaster and Abel⁠ lunged at them⁠​ with purpose, guided‍ by the sinister​‌ sound of air‍⁠‍ being cleaved by‍⁠‌ their blades.

“Shail!”​​​

“Yes,⁠‍‍ sir.”

Shail⁠‌ circled the golem’s⁠⁠ feet, weaving silver​ Karon threads into​‌⁠ his spear.

Ryozo’s‍⁠‌ bow was also‌​ connected to those‌​⁠ same threads.

Like‍ Gulliver tied down‍ by Lilliputians, they​‍⁠ wrapped the golem’s‍⁠ entire body with‌⁠ the strands, restricting​ its movements.

The‍‌‍ giant, more and​‌‌ more immobilized, began⁠‍ to collapse.

“Bwahahaha!‍ You look great,‌‍ Nibelung!”

Changseong‍⁠‌ shouted from solid⁠⁠⁠ ground. That was‌‌‍ where his duty​​ lay.

Richard‌ of Mura charged​‍‍ forward like a raging buffalo.

Any‌ demon in his‌ path who crashed‍ against his armor‍ went flying like‍‍ a rag doll.‌⁠‌

Upon‌‌‌ arrival, he quickly⁠‌ drew his spear,​ Gáe Bolg.

And⁠‍ hurled it.

However,⁠ he was too‌‌ far from the‍⁠‍ golem. Even if⁠​ it hit, it​​ wouldn’t have enough⁠⁠ power to shatter‍​⁠ the chest crystal.​

“Niece!”​‌​

“Yes!”⁠

Rachel⁠​ advanced, crushing demon⁠‍‌ heads and shoulders​⁠‌ beneath her feet.⁠

One‍ of the ancestors​​ cupped his hands‌​‌ into a stirrup,‍​​ boosting her into​​⁠ the air.

Her‍⁠‌ pink pupils glinted‍‌ between the strands‍‍ of her two-toned‌⁠ hair as she​ floated upward.

Midair,​‍​ she caught Gáe‍⁠ Bulg, twisted her⁠‌​ waist forcefully, and‌‌ threw it with‍‌ all her strength.‌⁠‍

Crack!⁠​

The⁠⁠ golem’s chest caved⁠ in—but didn’t break.​‌ The finishing blow‍⁠‍ was still needed.‍‍​

Whoosh!‍‍‌

A gust swept the‌ battlefield. Only tattered⁠‌​ wings floated in‌ the air.

The⁠⁠ warrior Leon van‌‌‌ Reinhard appeared like​‌‍ lightning.

He⁠‍‌ drove his foot‌​ into the crystal.⁠⁠

The‍‌⁠ green light flickered‍‍ dangerously. He struck​‍ again—and again.

Slash!‌ Slash!

His​‍‌ fingers trembled from‍​ the shockwaves of‍ impact.

Tiiiiiing.‌⁠

A sharp, gleaming sound⁠​ filled the air.‌ The crystal shattered.​⁠ Leon’s eyes briefly‌‍‌ glazed as the⁠​ ground quaked.

It‍⁠ was the shockwave⁠‌‌ of the colossus‌⁠ falling to its‍‌ knees, then collapsing​⁠‍ beneath him.

***‍‍

=You‍ bastard!=

The​ enemy’s roars were‌ always pleasant to​ hear.

They‌⁠ weren’t so different‌​‌ from victory cries.‍

Especially⁠‍‍ if it was⁠⁠⁠ a scream at‌⁠‌ the end—this feeling​​​ was hard to‍ describe.

=Coherence…!‍ How much coherence⁠‌ must you destroy​‌⁠ to be satisfied?​‌‌ You’re one of‌ those blinded by‍ the small, unable‍​‍ to see the​⁠​ great. Ah, oh⁠‍⁠ suppression, what path‌⁠‍ are you walking?=‍

“You’re‍‍‌ the one who‌‍‍ keeps calling me‍​‍ apostle of destruction.”​‍

I charged at him.⁠​ Our swords clashed​⁠ and I slashed⁠‍ as if drawing‍‌‍ a cross.

A wind-blade in the‌⁠ shape of an⁠‍ X surged toward‍​‌ the old knight.‌‌

Ragnarok​‌⁠ held no weapon—but​‍‍ deflected the blow‍ diagonally.

He‌‍ wasn’t ordinary. But‍​ that’s all he‌ was.

“My⁠ sword merely fulfilled⁠⁠ its duty. Don’t​‍ you think it’s​⁠​ hypocritical to blame​‌​ me for that?‍‍ You were the​​⁠ one who, with​ conquest and plague,⁠‌ turned this world​ into a complete‌‍⁠ mess.”

=I⁠​ was simply exercising‌‍ suppressive power rightfully=‍‌‍

“Then​⁠ mine is self-defense,‌⁠‌ bastard.”

I lunged again. An‌‍ immeasurable surge of‌‌ energy built up‌⁠ with every swing.‌⁠

I didn’t care if‌⁠​ there would be‍‍‍ no reconciliation. My​ stamina was finite,‍‌ but my will⁠ to fight was‌​​ endless.

Even‍ if my muscles​ tore like threads,‍‍ my resolve fastened​‍‌ like buttons.

Amid⁠‍ a great turbulence,‌‍ my allies were​‌ the anchor keeping​‌​ me from being​‍‌ swept away.

Eliminate‌ all that is‍‍ unnecessary.

Let​⁠‌ only two actions⁠​​ remain.

Cut.‍ Cut.

Parallel‍‌ thought is simple,‌⁠​ but its destructive‌‌‍ power is immense.​ Even Ragnarok, who​​ defended relentlessly, began‌​⁠ to falter.

A coward who shoots​‍⁠ from afar doesn’t‍⁠‌ have the guts​‍ to face a blade head-on.

I cornered him. The​‌ landscape of the‍⁠ world collapsed. We​ intertwined and fell​​ in a dive.‍

The​ madness of war‍ burned closer than⁠‍‌ the sun’s heat.⁠⁠

=Curse‌‍⁠ you!=

I was alone. In​​ a way, I still am.

=How⁠‍ can you fight‍‌ alongside those vermin…?=‌‌

Only​⁠‍ Yu Sein could‌‌​ hear the torment⁠⁠‌ my body endured,‍‌​ forged into a sword.

And‍​⁠ even then, only⁠‍⁠ a fraction.

=Suppression​ Apostle…!=

The​‌‍ remnants of sashimi​ were a pair.‌‍‌ On them, one‌​ by one, touches‌ of light began‍‍ to land.

I don’t move forward​​ alone. When I begin to drift⁠​ toward the wrong​ path, those around​ me become my⁠‍‌ rudder.

That’s​ why—

The⁠ path of my‍ sword was straight.⁠​‍

They​‌‌ supported my mind,⁠​ which wavered like​‌ a tightrope walker,‌ and held it​‍​ steady.

I didn’t hesitate to⁠ draw my sword,⁠ no matter the‌⁠⁠ beast before me.⁠

They‌‍​ were like me—and​‍‍ I, like them.‍‍‌

Into‍ Murasame, I infused‍‍⁠ a bolt like⁠‌‌ a full beam.⁠‌⁠

The⁠ color of the‍‍ soul had changed,​⁠​ and so had‍⁠‍ its light.

A deep blue radiance.‌‌

The‌⁠ color of the‌⁠​ universe’s flesh soaked‍ into my hands‍ and into the‍‍ two sashimi blades⁠ I wielded.

Thud.‌

The​‍ skull trembled and​⁠​ slipped. It fell​‍ from the sky‍‍⁠ to the earth.⁠

From‍‍ afar, Yu Sein,​⁠‍ watching the scene,‌⁠ murmured.

“…Three‍‍‍ against one.”

The‌​⁠ living.

The​⁠ dead.

And‍‌ the gods.

The⁠ Apocalypse was decreed​ by them.

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