'Revis, finally we meet.'
The woman standing before me was the red-haired creature, Revis. She was one of the few individuals who possessed the potential to kill me in my current state.
To be clear, I had no desire for suicide. Rather, I wanted to exert every ounce of my effort, protect my companions completely, and then—only then—embrace death. My life had become so saturated with events that my body could no longer find the "catharsis" it craved unless I reached that ultimate threshold.
To achieve this, I required a formidable enemy. Revis, who harbored an explicit hostility and targeted Ais, was the perfect opponent to die before, while I shielded her.
Of course, at her current level, Revis was far too weak. From the moment our swords clashed, I realized I could defeat her a hundred times out of a hundred. In fact, the current gap in our power would allow me to slice her into ribbons even with my eyes closed.
It couldn't be helped; the fault lay with me for being overzealous in gathering experience points. However, Revis held a massive advantage: she wasn't human. She was a creature possessing the power of an "Enhanced Species."
Her unique strength lay in her growth rate. Unlike adventurers, creatures could evolve at a pace beyond comparison by consuming magic stones. At the start of this story, her power rivaled a Level 5 Ais, but she would soon become strong enough to defeat Finn during the Knossos arc.
In other words, she still had vast room for growth. If things went well, she might eventually rise to a level that matched my own.
The prospect was intoxicating; I couldn't let such a prize slip through my fingers. If I made her hate me now, I could eventually die in peace, and she would find satisfaction in killing me. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
To make this happen, I had to establish myself as a clear obstacle and make her loathe me with everything she had. Only then would she keep me in her sights and grow stronger. To reach that point, I first had to make her acknowledge my power.
── Alright, let's begin. This is where the real fight starts!!
'Revis, let's play football!! And you'll be the ball!!'
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As Ais looked at Al's back while he faced the red-haired woman who had just crushed her, she felt an absolute certainty of victory. While the woman was strong—possessing Level 6 power since she had defeated Ais at the peak of Level 5—she did not reach the level of the hero standing before her: the true hero who had reached Level 7 at the age of fifteen.
That boy, who at twelve years old had shattered every speed record in his desperate pursuit of strength, bore the title "Sword Ghoul," granted by the gods. Although he no longer displayed that fierce bloodlust on the surface, Ais, being cut from the same cloth, recognized that Al Cranel remained a "Sword Ghoul" at heart, not a "Sword Saint."
Al had never been an invincible hero. He had been crushed by small dragons, the Black Goliath, the "Chariot of the Goddess," and the "King" Ottar, among other formidable foes. He had tasted the bitterness of defeat every time. Yet, he always rose without breaking and ultimately triumphed—his score with Ottar perhaps being the only one left unsettled.
He had turned his many defeats into the fuel needed to reach the summit, and Ais knew his strength better than anyone. Having watched his failure-ridden past more closely than anyone else, she understood that Al's obsession with power was not something that would let him fall behind this red-haired woman.
However, her sense of reassurance turned to shock in the next instant. The red-haired woman lunged with divine speed, striking Al with a distorted greatsword. Two things fueled Ais's astonishment: first, the woman's speed, which was several degrees faster than before.
(She wasn't serious when she fought me──!! No, more importantly, is that sword a "Natural Weapon"?)
The woman had seemingly plucked the weapon from the ground before charging. Ais's wonder was justified; "Natural Weapons" were typically produced by the Dungeon for monsters like Minotaurs or Lizardmen. It was impossible for a supposedly human being to have the Dungeon forge a new weapon for them, let alone wield whatever lay scattered on the floor.
── Nevertheless, it was the red-haired woman who truly trembled with shock.
"── Tch!!"
The woman's eyes widened when she saw that her blow—one capable of felling a dragon—had been easily parried simply by Al shifting the angle of his blade. Even for Ais, it was a divine display of skill that defied belief.
Al wielded his new black greatsword, while the woman swung that suspicious "Natural Weapon" she had just uprooted. They exchanged dozens of blows, a mirror of the previous duel, but as the fight progressed, the woman's features sharpened with tension, and she began to retreat step by step.
Both belonged to the same combat style: utilizing massive weapons and free-form movements unconstrained by any mold. However, the difference became clear because they were of the same type. Strength, endurance, agility, experience, and above all, skill—they were all on different levels.
With every movement, the woman's available space narrowed and died. Although Al's sword did not move faster than his opponent's, he began to graze her gradually, his strikes eventually landing clearly on her body.
Unlike the woman, who put her life into every strike with high pressure, Al's movements were terrifyingly calm and cold—the movements of a "Sword Ghoul" who slowly and surely drained the life from his prey. Al deflected her attacks, closing into her personal space one step at a time. In contrast, despite her focus on offense, the woman hesitated to press forward, wary of the counterattacks Al launched between intervals.
Since her stats surpassed Ais's while under the effects of "Ariel," she was likely at Level 6. It was strange, then, that the fight was so one-sided despite Al being Level 7. In fact, a Level 5 Ais had been able to fight her to some extent thanks to her magic.
One reason for this overwhelming superiority was Al's skill: Heavenly Calamity Talent. Its effect allowed him to acquire the development abilities "Swordsman" and "Mage" during combat, but the skill's true value lay elsewhere.
It accelerated the mastery of all skills and techniques. It extracted latent abilities (Stats) to their absolute limit. Mastery of all skills naturally included swordsmanship and combat styles, which grew at a staggering rate equal to his basic abilities.
Because of his unnatural growth rate and repeated recklessness, his ability ranks at every level up usually reached "SSS"—something technically impossible within the system. Those accumulated abilities became a solid foundation for his strength, even if they didn't appear as numbers.
This skill enabled him to use those accumulated powers without any waste, preventing him from becoming a dull beast who relied solely on physical traits. No matter how high your stats are, swinging raw power alone makes you a mere monster; the true horror lies in using that power with refined skill.
The woman faced someone who possessed physical abilities superior to hers and, simultaneously, a skill that surpassed her own. It was the definition of despair. The proof was the look of dread etched onto her face as she received Al's strikes, which were launched with a speed that was deliberate rather than erratic.
There was another reason the woman found herself unable to attack.
(There is no bloodlust, no disturbance in his magic power... everything is so calm his movements are completely unreadable──!!)
Al's movements possessed a stillness that made the woman think he might vanish if she looked away for a second. As for the reason behind this rhythmic silence—there wasn't one.
It wasn't a skill or a development ability; it was simply the crystallization of raw talent. Just as an efficient machine produces no engine noise, Al's movements and magic were devoid of any disturbance because he had stripped away every ounce of kinetic waste.
He was the embodiment of the talent once recognized by the woman known as "Silence," Alfia, as the only genius to surpass her—and recognized by the Great God Zeus as the talent that might become the strongest in history. This was Al Cranel, the "Level 7."
His power resided in a realm that even Ais, one of the city's pillars of strength, could not reach.
Al slipped inside the woman's defenses. She tried to stop him by swinging her greatsword, but Al dodged the blow and drove a palm strike into her chest. The impact, carrying a powerful spiral, was so great that her body flew into the air, flipping her upside down. While Revis flailed her limbs in the inverted space, a ruthless kick struck her head, sending her body crashing into the stone wall, leaving a red trail behind.
"Unfortunately, it seems you aren't enough to kill me at your current level."
The red-haired woman was riddled with wounds that were far from superficial, breathing with difficulty, while Al looked as if he hadn't changed since the fight began. Al spoke as if the matter were settled, which only fueled the woman's rage.
"── Tch!! Don't mock me!!"
The woman's body trembled. Was it anger or dread? In the next instant, she kicked off the ground and lunged at Al with that newfound intensity. Fueled by rage, her movements pushed past her limits, becoming sharper despite her injuries. She decided to end it, taking a low center of gravity to deliver her greatest strike—a devastating downward swing capable of felling a Floor Boss in one hit.
However, that strike cut nothing but air──.
"That... was a bad move, without a doubt."
And upon the arms of the furious woman──the blade representing the pinnacle of human skill inverted.
It looked like an inevitable checkmate to everyone watching; a swordsman who loses their arms is nothing but a scarecrow. But that woman—Leivys—was neither human nor a simple swordsman.
"Giant flower──wreak havoc!!"
Leivys screamed as she sprouted new arms and fled from Al. In that moment, the ground split beneath her feet, and a massive flower the size of a Floor Boss—a bloated version of a Viola—erupted from the earth. The flower possessed fangs in every petal and lunged forward like a nest of snakes attacking prey.
"Wait!! I... will certainly... kill you even if it costs me my entire existence!!"
Leivys left behind a scream filled with a rage and turmoil that could crush the psyche of anyone who heard it, then vanished into the rising dust of battle.
"Hero's Path ── 10-second charge release: Thunderbolt."
Al crushed the giant flower that was rampaging through the area—whether to buy time or as a distraction—with a magical strike, releasing the charge he had held in reserve since his companions' morale had been restored. A bright smile, unlike any seen before, spread across his face.
"── Ah, I'm truly looking forward to that."
That smile... Ais Wallenstein was the only one watching it.
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