"I, Aurier... am practically a genius!"

The vigorous roar echoed beneath the foot of Notasia, steady and powerful enough to shake the air, carrying thirty percent arrogance, thirty percent fury, and ninety-four percent wisdom beyond the understanding of ordinary men.

Only, perhaps because that wisdom was a little too profound, when paired with the horrifying sight of his hollow abdomen still spilling intestines, the shock of it rivaled some crazed cultist having a full public breakdown, to the point that Muen nearly felt his brain shrivel for a second.

He had almost started expecting to hear some kind of strange whispering in his head.

But after the initial shock, when Muen thought about it carefully... he suddenly felt that Aurier’s method actually did make a tiny bit of sense.

After all, if you cut out your stomach, wouldn’t you stop feeling hungry?

And since he was probably under the same effect as those Kingdom soldiers now, he should also be just as hard to kill in practice. Cutting out his stomach, to him, was probably nothing more than a minor flesh wound.

Was this bastard actually a genius?

"But that makes this a little disappointing..."

Muen rubbed his chin and let out a helpless sigh.

He had not expected that Aurier’s way of escaping that abnormal state would be so... "refreshingly unconventional." No, that wasn’t right. Strictly speaking, he had not escaped it at all. By using that special method, he had only recovered a little of his awareness.

His abdominal cavity continued to pour blood and organs. A normal person would have died in agony ten times over by now, yet he could still move freely. That alone was enough to prove that, in essence, Aurier was no different from the Kingdom soldiers Muen had seen before.

"Heh... as if anyone could escape it..."

Noticing the regret in Muen’s gaze, Aurier’s smile suddenly vanished, and a trace of hatred surfaced on his dried, tree-bark face. "That was Ancient Magic..."

"Ancient Magic?"

Muen’s eyes sharpened. "So I was right..."

When he had faced those several hundred thousand Kingdom troops earlier, he had already suspected as much. He had just had no way to prove it.

Now that it had been confirmed, though, Muen felt a chill crawl down his spine... If the Salvation Society possessed Ancient Magic capable of turning people into monsters that easily, then what they had in their hands was probably far more terrifying than he had imagined.

No wonder that old loli had wanted him to kill Gaius, the Holy Lord of Salvation. The Salvation Society was definitely not studying Ancient Magic to promote truth, goodness, and beauty. They were plotting something horrific in the dark.

"Come on. We’ve wasted enough time talking. Let’s get to the main event."

While Muen was thinking, Aurier had already swayed back upright and raised his jeweled sword again. "I’ll prove to you the greatness of Aurier Saint Peron! I’ll prove to you that I’m the true ruler capable of leading the Kingdom forward!"

"In the shape you’re in now, you’re not proving anything." Muen returned his attention to the present and gave a casual shrug.

"Shut up!"

Aurier roared and suddenly swung his sword.

The strike was fast, so fast it left almost nothing but an afterimage. At this range, it could cross the distance and reach Muen in the blink of an eye.

But to Muen, it was not an impressive attack.

There was no finesse in the move at all. In fact, it was riddled with openings, nothing like the swordsmanship or technique of an experienced warrior. Muen merely raised his blade casually and blocked it in full.

"You built all that up for this?" Muen handled it with perfect ease, even having the leisure to sneer.

But in the next instant, surprise flashed through his eyes.

Because the absurdly expensive sword in Aurier’s hand suddenly erupted with a tremendous surge of magic power. Blazing fire exploded out of it, a detonation almost equal to a Radiant-Rank mage casting an all-out blast spell. It bloomed brilliantly, lighting the shadows beneath the mountains as bright as day.

The makeshift platform was swallowed in an instant by the aftershock. Countless bones were licked by the flames and charred black. Through the foul, thick smoke, Muen’s figure flickered and reappeared dozens of meters away.

"You’re supposed to be a swordsman, aren’t you?"

Muen lowered his eyes and lightly wiped the back of his hand, where the burn marks were already healing at a visible speed. "Pulling a magic sneak attack like that out of nowhere... doesn’t that feel a little shameless?"

"This is the wisdom of an outstanding statesman. What would you know?"

Aurier staggered out of the wreckage of ruined bones and ripped off the remaining pieces of armor that were getting in his way.

In truth, he had taken far more damage from that explosion than Muen had. Muen had slipped away in that instant by using time slow, while Aurier had taken the full force of his own attack head-on.

But Aurier did not seem to think there was anything wrong with that at all. On the contrary, he even laughed proudly.

"Isn’t this body convenient? Techniques I never dared use freely before, now I can use whenever I want. Concerns I used to have to think through over and over... now I don’t even need to think about them anymore."

Aurier raised the hand that had been badly burned and mangled black by the blast and tightened his grip on the sword.

"I have never felt myself... this powerful. So this is what strength feels like. What a wonderful thing. In some ways, it doesn’t even lose to the power I’ve always pursued."

"And you’re still not my opponent."

Muen shattered Aurier’s beautiful fantasy with calm indifference.

To be honest, aside from that first instant when Aurier had appeared and his shocking appearance had made Muen tense up on instinct, Muen had never truly felt that Aurier posed any threat to him.

Neither his instincts nor his judgment of the facts told him otherwise.

Because once all of Aurier’s layers of status and glory were stripped away, he was only an ordinary late-fourth-tier warrior, no different in rank from Muen as he was now.

As for actual quality... well, if Aurier had never had several pleasant exchanges with Evil Gods, and if he had not recently been hunted by the First Demon General before joining forces with some heaven-chosen protagonist to kill him in return, then his quality should have been slightly inferior to Muen’s.

"Shut up!"

The veins on Aurier’s forehead bulged. "What would you know? I’m the great Aurier, the man destined to become the Kingdom’s leader! Since childhood I’ve had to study the art of ruling the nation. Where would I have found the time to train my martial skill? Did you think I was ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) some brainless brute like you?"

"Is that so..."

Muen twitched the corner of his mouth. He did not look angry at all. On the contrary, he smiled. "I’ve heard the word brute plenty of times before. You’re not going to provoke me with something like that. And from where I’m standing now... the one who knows his strength is nowhere near enough and still insists on challenging me, Prince Aurier... that’s the real brainless brute."

That exchange just now had only been a brief clash.

But Muen believed that unless Aurier had cut out his brain along with his stomach, he should already understand the gap between them.

That strange Ancient Magic the Salvation Society had used only gave him a certain degree of immortality, and a bootleg version at that, one without any "rapid regeneration." It did not grant him any extra power.

That kind of enhancement was nowhere near the blessings Evil Gods granted their followers. In battles between truly strong people, it could barely even count as an enhancement at all. At best, it was better than nothing. It could not affect the outcome in any meaningful way.

And yet Aurier still wanted to continue?

"Don’t tell me you really did cut out your brain too."

"Shut up. What else was I supposed to do... I have to save the Kingdom..."

For a brief instant, Aurier’s eyes went blank, and he muttered in a low voice,

"If this keeps going, the Kingdom is finished. How can I just watch it be ruined? I can’t watch it be ruined! I have to save it... the Kingdom’s upper ranks have already rotted all the way through. That old thing is the same, just another useless vermin among them. Only I can save the Kingdom. Only this leader, this true ruler... can save her!"

"...I genuinely cannot understand your logic."

"Of course a brainless brute like you can’t understand my greatness!"

Aurier suddenly roared, and the confusion in his eyes was blown away by his own shout.

"Come! I can’t let you leave this place! I’ll deal with you here! Letting that woman get past me was already a stain on my record. As the future king of the Kingdom, I can’t afford any more stains!"

"Aurier, you really have gone mad." Muen raised a brow.

A man who was already fated never to become king was still brandishing a sword that was all but scrap metal and loudly proclaiming the ambition he once had.

What was this, exactly? A lunatic? An idiot? A mindless fool who no longer knew what he was saying?

Muen did not know.

But he did know how he should respond.

"All right."

Muen tightened his grip on Elizabeth and spun out a brilliant flower of steel.

"Since you insist so strongly, Aurier Saint Peron, I accept your challenge."

... 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

...

Because of the mountains and the fortress blocking the air currents, there was basically no wind on this battlefield shrouded in smoke.

If wind rose here, then it could only be the aftermath of battle, the thunder of magic, the collision of martial skill.

And so the wind howled.

Along with it came saber-light and sword intent, illuminating every patch of darkness in an instant before vanishing just as quickly into even deeper dark.

But wind was only wind. It could never remain for long. It merely swept across the battlefield, across the smoke, across the countless bones, then vanished beyond the edge of the sky without leaving behind the slightest trace that it had ever existed.

And so, the battle ended.

"Just as I thought. Not every psychotic episode comes with a dramatic boost in combat power."

Muen took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his cheek.

After what had looked like a fierce fight, the only sign of disarray on him was that smear of blood on his face. And even that blood was not his.

"Still want to fight?"

Muen lowered his head and looked at the figure on the ground.

The sunlight slanted down, gradually tipping the balance between light and shadow. The brightness of noon fell across that figure, making him look somewhat scattered.

Scattered in the physical sense.

"Fight? Of course I still..."

The enormous slash across Aurier’s chest made it hard for him to breathe, but even so, one of his severed arms crawled over to Muen’s feet like a caterpillar and threw a straight punch at his ankle bone.

"Enough of that."

Muen kicked the arm away, suddenly getting the bizarre feeling that he was the great villain after all.

"Aurier, you’ve already lost."

"Lost... I haven’t lost... How could I lose? I’m the true ruler who is destined to lead the Kingdom forward. I would never..."

"Aurier, face reality!"

Muen finally lost patience and cut off Aurier’s mad rambling, barking in a low voice,

"Look at yourself. How could the Kingdom’s so-called great ruler possibly be this thing lying here like a limbless human stump?"

"..."

Aurier froze. His dried, cracked lips moved. His shriveled face made his bulging eyes seem even more protruding than before, and his gaze shifted between blank confusion and momentary clarity.

"I... I lost?"

"Yes. You lost."

"I lost? How could I lose?"

Aurier could not believe it, but his senses kept stabbing at his nerves and forcing him to, until bloody tears ran from the corners of his eyes.

"That’s right... I lost... But I didn’t lose because of myself. It was because... because that old thing went mad, joined hands with the Salvation Society, and even treated his own son like a disposable pawn."

"I can’t accept this..."

"I lost... I didn’t lose... I lost... I didn’t lose... I clearly didn’t lose... and yet I lost..."

"I can’t accept this! I still haven’t saved the Kingdom. How can I... I can’t accept this!"

Aurier let out a shrill howl. His bloodshot eyes bulged wide, and within them it was as if countless phantoms appeared.

There was the ambition of his youth, the grand hopes of his rise, the cold indifference with which he had watched his younger brother be discarded like a pawn... and now he too, just like that younger brother, had become a discarded pawn of that old thing.

It was not supposed to be like this. He was not like those idiots. He was supposed to become the final victor, replace that dimwitted, incompetent tyrant, and lead the Kingdom toward a bright future...

It was not supposed to be like this...

"So those are your last words? They suit your station well enough."

Muen slowly crouched and lightly rested the blade against Aurier’s throat.

With his eyesight, he could naturally tell that Aurier had already reached the very end of his oil and wick. The bootleg immortality granted by that Ancient Magic had an obvious limitation... it needed to keep burning through everything he had, including his soul.

Aurier had cut out his own stomach and never taken part in that bloody feast, so by the time he had first stood before Muen, he had already been dried out like firewood. Now even his soul was on the verge of burning itself out completely.

Muen had already given up on getting any useful information out of ashes that were about to go cold anyway. But the man was still a prince of the Kingdom, and though he had gone mad, sending him off with a little dignity still counted as a gentleman’s elegance.

"Then farewell, Prince of the Kingdom, Aurier..."

"Kaepel!"

Aurier suddenly cried out, as if in a final flash before death. "Kaepel, where are you?!"

"...Your Highness, there’s no Kaepel here. For that matter, who even is Kaepel? I don’t know him." Muen was speechless. He had not expected Aurier to be this stubborn when his soul was practically burned away already.

"Kaepel, so you’re here, you’re here..."

Aurier’s eyes had turned utterly muddy and unfocused, but after darting around once, they still landed on Muen in front of him.

It seemed he had mistaken Muen for this so-called Kaepel.

"Kaepel, Kaepel... where’s my hand? Where’s my hand?"

"..."

Muen let out a soft sigh. In the end, he temporarily put away his blade and dragged the arm that had wandered several yards away and was spinning around aimlessly back to Aurier’s side.

"There. Your hand’s right here."

"Ah, my hand..."

Aurier found his hand again. That hand fumbled over his own body, then finally groped its way into the inner pocket of his coat.

Soon, Aurier pulled out a badge and handed it to Muen.

"Kaepel... Kaepel... take this. You have to take this back. You have to..."

"What is this?"

"This time I didn’t lose. I could have won. It was all because of those vermin, especially that biggest vermin of all, the one who’s squatted on the throne for decades..."

Aurier’s voice was clearly weakening now, and his speech was rushed, but he still did his best to enunciate every word.

It was as if he wanted "Kaepel" to remember every last thing he said.

"But how could I possibly have made no preparations? How could I have spent all these years merely hoping for mercy from that old thing? Kaepel, take this and return to the royal capital. Everything I left behind is there... You have to use it to save this country!

Kaepel, you’re the one I trust most. It can only be you..."

"Huh? Everything you left behind? What are you, the Pirate King too... no, wait, don’t tell me you actually..."

Muen looked at the badge in his hand in shock.

It was exquisitely made, as if carved from gold, yet it also clearly carried some kind of magical aura. On it was engraved a crown, vivid and lifelike, magnificent beyond question. But that crown floated in empty space, as though it were impossibly, hopelessly far from its owner.

The badge was bent, marked with clear indentations from fingers. It was easy to see that its owner had handled it day and night, pouring into it the obsession and resentment he could never let go of.

Decades of longing, built up without rest. You did not need a brain to know that amount would never be small.

"Well now... this is an unexpected windfall."

Muen murmured to himself.

He had not even hoped to get anything useful out of Aurier anymore, yet after one fit of madness the man had personally handed him something this important.

How should he put it? This bastard really was insane...

"Please... you have to save this country... Campbell."

"...!"

At that familiar word, Muen froze. His pupils contracted, and he snapped his head down.

But what he saw was still a pair of cloudy, vacant eyes, dimming by the second, utterly devoid of reason.

And what he heard was still the same disordered muttering, along with that unfamiliar name:

"It can only be you, Kaepel... You’re this strong. You can definitely do it."