<Skill: Magic Sword, Rapid Attacks, Simultaneous Activation――Over Skill: Unleashed “Flame Dance Blade’>
The strike came crashing down. The bow raised to block it creaked under the force, causing his shoulder to scream in pain.
“Ditore! Don’t just stand around! Get over here and help me! And Poro! Get up already!”
Sheto desperately tried to push back.
But then the pressure suddenly vanished.
The sword shimmered like a heat haze, and a sudden pain shot up Sheto’s shoulder.
“Ahhhhhh!”
“How long do you think you can keep up with a blade that changes form at will!?”
The flaming sword twisted around like a whip. Sheto’s fur was burned, his flesh torn open, and his blood clotted with a stench.
He could not block such an attack.
“Da-damn you…”
Clutching his side, Poro forced himself back to his feet.
Behind the flaming swordsman, the magician rose as well, a look of fury on his face.
“Vengeance for Farnan…!”
Silver patterns appeared, and the magician prepared to unleash a series of spells in quick succession. Poro steadied his breathing and held his sword low at his waist.
“We’ll overwhelm them now. And finish this!”
The swordsman of flame said before taking a step back. The sword he had drawn back shifted into position for a powerful thrust, while the enraged magician raised his hand high.
“Legis…Frost…”
Just as the incantation was about to be completed…
“Uaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!”
A dying scream echoed through the area, freezing everything in place.
Then, tearing through the raging flames, a hulking man with his right arm gone was hurled away like a worthless piece of scrap.
“Leodor!?”
Sheto’s heart became even colder, and he spoke the word.
“Transparency.”
Having lost their target, the flames slashed uselessly through empty space. The swordsman, unable to see him now, still chased after his trail and let out a scream.
“Run! Ditore!”
The magician realized the fate that was about to befall him, and he watched the spell in a state of shock.
The spell that had been prepared was Frost Moon Arrow. A spell that would never miss its target, as long as the enemy was within your line of sight.
“Legis…”
Whatever the final spell was meant to be, it would never be completed.
Blood sprayed from the magician’s stomach as it was sliced open in passing, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Turning his back on it all, Sheto dispelled his invisibility, drew back his golden and silver arrows, and imbued them with break arts, piercing through every spell in his path.
The walls of flame and earth shattered in an instant, and the barrier separating him from the Demon General vanished.
“You took your time.”
The demon laughed with a vicious grin, his body charred black.
Before him stood the magician, desperately trying to protect himself with barriers of magic and earth, while the Hero stared at the scene.
“D-damn it… Wait…!”
Staggering as he raised his sword, Poro stood behind them. And then the giant and the magician, clutching their wounds, desperately picked up their weapons again.
The knife wielder gripped his sword with trembling, unsteady hands and slowly began to close the distance.
With his heart still frozen cold, Sheto spoke.
“Hold them, back. Try not, to kill, them.”
“Very well.”
Like the wind, he surged forward.
“I said… Wait!!”
The furious shout rising from behind was blown away, along with the deafening sound of metal being crushed and torn apart.
“Fall back, partner! Get the Hero out of here!”
With the general’s anguished cry echoing behind him, Sheto’s twin blades, boosted with the power of break arts, sliced through the barrier and scattered it into pieces.
“Damn you to hell!!”
After dodging the girl who threw herself at him, he kicked away the strategist who struck him.
There was nothing left standing in his wait now. He charged straight towards the enemy general, who was still sitting down.
The Hero’s hand smoothly drew something from his waist.
It was as if the Hero could predict his actions. The distance was perfect, the timing impossible to evade, a perfect strike that could neither be deflected nor avoided.
And then, a smooth blade came within inches of the Hero’s throat.
But what was pointed beneath Sheto’s chin, was not a blade or a sharp tip, but something resembling a simple rod.
“I do not wield a weapon. That is the rule.”
The Hero smiled sadly as Sheto stared at him.
“What else, you have?”
The boy sighed and relaxed his body.
Sheto pulled away his blade, and then the boy thrust his hand forward and lowered his head into a bow.
“I have nothing.”