Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 40: Ash Flower (4): The Champion of Death
Throughout history, they say true warriors can instantly gauge their opponent’s strength.
I’m no true warrior, but even I can sense it—this armored knight is overwhelmingly powerful.
And this knight is a monster.
An undead creature in human form.
When I think of armored undead knights, a Dullahan comes to mind.
But this knight isn’t riding a phantom horse.
Is it even a knight at all?
Its black, imposing armor made me assume it was one.
Its appearance isn’t ostentatious or extravagant.
Yet it exudes a sense of nobility and dignity.
That’s why I’ve decided—it’s a knight.
In my mind, it’s the Black Knight.
The air grows still, a lukewarm breeze carrying the scent of blood wafts by.
It comes from the Black Knight.
I brace myself, gripping the knife in one hand and summoning [Vanish] in the other.
I make the first move.
Left, right, left, right—a rapid series of four steps.
Darting back and forth to confuse my opponent, I close in and attack head-on.
The Black Knight doesn’t block my knife with its sword—it dodges.
Even [Vanish] misses.
I quickly shift to strike from its blind spot.
But it evades effortlessly, barely moving at all.
Just a few calculated steps are enough to avoid my attack.
“……”
I back away.
It could’ve easily deflected my knife with its sword—that would’ve been easier.
But it chose not to, as if it knows touching me would be a mistake.
If even a single hit lands, I’ll win.
In that case, I should attack more aggressively—any glancing blow will suffice.
“…Let’s go, Black Knight!”
I ready myself and charge forward.
Darting left, right, left, right, and again in a seven-step feint, I slash diagonally!
How much time has passed since then?
Five minutes? Ten? Maybe an hour?
“Hah… hah… hah…”
I stagger back, panting, glaring at the Black Knight.
“…What… what is this thing…?”
My attacks aren’t landing.
No matter how many, no matter how fast, not even a glancing blow.
It’s absurd.
No matter how skilled an opponent is, this is too much.
I even pushed myself to execute a twenty-one-step feint, attacking from seven angles.
Even then, I couldn’t touch it. Not even once.
And the Black Knight only moves minimally to avoid me.
Could it be using a relic? I doubted, but it doesn’t feel like that.
Even if it were, no relic could allow such perfect evasion—it’d be too overpowered.
Every relic has pros and cons.
Perhaps there’s a relic that prevents attack while evading, but this doesn’t seem like one.
If… if this evasion is purely skill-based… it’s terrifying.
With my current abilities, I can never win—
Suddenly, the Black Knight’s sword enters my field of vision.
It takes a moment to realize it’s the knight’s weapon.
And before I know it, a quiet, deliberate slash cuts my arm.
“…?”
There’s no pain.
I only understand I’ve been cut when I see my arm holding the knife fall away.
A child’s arm. My arm.
Ah, it’s over.
I had a feeling this would happen—that I couldn’t win.
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But even so, I gave it everything I had.
If a scratch could bring victory, I might have stood a chance.
That smug thought crossed my mind.
But I couldn’t land a single hit.
Even with a cheat weapon, my skills weren’t enough to wield it effectively.
It’s a pathetic and frustrating story about a fool.
A fool—me—who got carried away and overestimated himself.
Now, at last, I realize it. Now, I truly understand.
I thought I was strong.
I believed I was being humble, hiding my strength.
Ah… ah… it’s infuriating. It’s so frustrating.
I want to be stronger.
The Black Knight’s sword is about to sever my neck.
But just before it happens, the Black Knight pulls away.
I glance at the knight and then reach for my fallen arm.
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A perfect, clean cut. Even now, there’s no pain or bleeding.
It’s strange that there’s no blood—perhaps the cut was made with such precision.
Well, no matter.
I pour Elixir over the severed arm and press it to the wound.
Miraculously, the arm reattaches as if nothing happened.
The Black Knight readies its sword.
The stance radiates an overwhelming aura of dominance.
If this were any other time, I’d have fainted from sheer intimidation.
There’s not the slightest opening in its stance.
“You are strong.”
I admit honestly, exhaling deeply.
“And I am weak.”
I confess.
It’s the truth.
I’ve been driven to the brink of death—no, I’m on the verge of dying right now.
The reason I’m in such a dire situation is that I’m weak.
And I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to be killed, so here I am, exposing this pitiful, unsightly version of myself.
It’s utterly humiliating.
I activate my fourth relic, [Generous].
“…Forgive me.”
I whisper.
My purple hair flows in the wind as I fix my violet eyes on the Black Knight.
Then, I activate my fifth relic.
“[Phantasmagoria].”
Countless [Vanish] spells appear all around me.
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I wonder if the Edda are related to reincarnated people in some way since their god has purple hair. I know in some other reincarnated stories, they always have purple hair when they’re reborn versus isekai’d.