Chapter 21: The Attribute of Grass, and the Attribute of Darkness

At present, the ducal army is in the midst of assaulting the Dragon God Cult’s branch.

Beneath the First City, chaos reigns everywhere—every corridor, every chamber swallowed by relentless, tangled combat.

Along one of the passageways, battles bound by fate were unfolding in parallel: a former captain of the Imperial Guard versus an active-duty guardsman, a once-proclaimed prodigy versus a court magician. Old grudges and severed paths clashed violently in steel and spell.

Barnes swung his sword with an expression of pure delight, his eyes shining as if intoxicated by the act itself.

“Seles, Seles, Seles!! Well, what do you think? This is the real swordsmanship of the Imperial Guard!! Not some crooked, heretical style like yours—this is orthodox Imperial swordplay!! You can’t even lay a hand on me, can you?!”

“Haaah… such a rough, crude sword,” Seles sighed, sounding bored. “Honestly, you were better back during the exams, weren’t you?”

(His power’s clearly increased thanks to that so-called spirit potion… but there’s no weight to his blade at all. And after seeing Captain Orise’s sword, this just feels… lacking.)

Seeing Seles exhale so dismissively only drove Barnes further into a frenzy. His sword strikes grew sharper, more violent, as though he were shaving away his own life with every swing—burning through what little vitality he had left to press his assault.

“We were supposed to—every single day—cross blades as members of the Barnes Platoon, growing stronger together!! And yet!! You betrayed me!! You chose Al Dragals instead!! Why?! Why did you do that?!”

A heart steeped in vengeance. Crushing sleep deprivation. A life-devouring spirit potion.

And yet, woven into Barnes’s words was a pure, aching sentiment—Why didn’t you choose me? It spilled out raw and unguarded.

His personality was irredeemable, but one thing was undeniable: his love for Selestaria had been genuine.

He had boasted about cutting her apart, about killing her swiftly and cleanly—but at least in his eyes, there was no true resolve to kill.

Barnes’s sword was light because everything about him was half-finished, incomplete.

“You know,” Seles said casually, “this has nothing to do with liking or disliking you. You never existed in my world to begin with.”

“W—What?!”

(She never even saw me…? Not once…?!)

Barnes’s bangs slipped down over his eyes, shadowing his expression.

Moments later, he raised his voice in near hysteria.

“T-That can’t be true!! It can’t be allowed!!”

Then, as if fleeing from reality itself, his gaze snapped toward the battle beside them.

“But more importantly, is this really okay, Seles? Your precious, precious partner looks like he’s about to breathe his last, doesn’t he? Heh… heh heh…”

Nearby, Al was kneeling on one knee, his body battered and barely holding together.

His jet-black robe had lost almost all semblance of its original form, and blood seeped from one of his eyes.

“Haa… haa…”

“With a pitiful little blade like that, you really think you can cut through the magic of a prodigy like me, Al Dragals?! Go on—crawl more! Grovel properly!!”

Seles cast them a brief, indifferent glance, then returned her focus to her own blade.

“Are you sure about this, Seles? He’s going to die, you know.”

“There’s no way Al would lose to someone that pathetic.”

Gust raised his staff toward Al, his face twisted with ecstatic joy.

“I’ll burn your limbs to cinders and turn you into livestock!! Ahh… yes, of course. I knew it. I’m the strongest after all. The one overwhelming Al Dragals—I am the one worthy of being a court magician!!”

The instant he poured mana into his staff—

An unharmed Al appeared behind him and struck with the edge of his hand.

“As if, idiot. It was all an illusion.”

“Gweh—”

Gust let out a croak like a frog and collapsed lifelessly to the floor.

The battered Al dispersed into mist.

Even Barnes stared wide-eyed at the exquisite illusion.

Seles smiled gently.

“See? I told you, you fool. Now then—brace yourself. I’m about to finish this.”

From that point on, it was swift.

Thanks to the spirit potion, Barnes had no time left.

“I—I… I—AAAAAGH!!”

He was cleaved apart by Seles’s blade, rolled across the ground, and then lay completely still—never twitching again.

Al and Seles bumped fists lightly, then moved to pursue Estella.

That was when—

A tremendous explosion roared through the underground.

It seemed to originate from the massive chamber ahead, and a violent gust of wind blasted toward them from the front.

◇◇◇

A short while earlier—

While Al and Seles were still locked in their respective battles.

Deep within the inner chamber, a brutal clash between grass and darkness was unfolding.

Multiple tree giants—treants—summoned by Estella manipulated countless vines, raining down an unending storm of blows upon Crow.

“Always skittering about… how irritating…”

“My shadow movement ranks among the best in the world. Attacks at this level are meaningless.”

Crow summoned his dark familiars, steadily wearing down the treants.

Black wolves raced across the battlefield, hunting them relentlessly.

Estella had overwhelming numbers; Crow possessed overwhelming single-strike power.

“Tch… this stalemate leads nowhere…”

Estella bloomed a rafflesia.

From the flower’s center, purple mist poured forth.

“This is… poison, hm? An impressive spell. But—”

The rafflesia and the treants were swallowed by darkness.

No—they were dragged into it.

As effortlessly as breathing, as casually as an idle gesture, Estella’s finest magic was erased.

“You’re admirable, Estella. You look calm, but inside you must want me dead—desperately, endlessly. Your beloved fiancé, the crown prince, lies at death’s door. Every single day, you toil desperately to brew life-prolonging medicine, don’t you? For him… and for the Empire’s future!! Yes, that’s good. The more you love the crown prince, the more vividly my revenge is painted!!”

“You… filth. You will fall into hell without fail.”

“That’s fine!! I’ll drag the Empire into hell with me while holding it in a chokehold. And of course—you’ll be there too, Estella!!”

Crow summoned even more familiars.

Black wolves, ravens, demonic serpents, gremlins.

It was no longer an army—it was a tide of darkness.

Crow began to speak, his voice low and deliberate.

“I’ve told you this countless times. There are two kinds of humans in this world. Namely—Transcenders, and everything else. The former are gods. The latter are nothing more than dust.”

—Transcenders.

Monsters who have stepped outside the framework of humanity.

Beings unbound by natural law or magical systems, who manipulate phenomena themselves.

Entities whose power in battle is utterly disproportionate, who appear casually throughout history, shake the world to its core, and then vanish without a trace.

Eccentric, without exception—but undeniably titans among titans.

…Crow, former Chief Court Magician.

This man, too, was one of those Transcenders—a sorcerer who commanded darkness itself.

“Kukuku… I’ll keep you company until your mana runs dry.”

“Do not underestimate me… whelp.”

Once again, the great battle resumed.

But mere minutes later, Estella was covered in wounds, both hands pressed against the ground as blood and sweat dripped steadily below her.

“How pathetic, Estella. I haven’t even used half my strength. No—this doesn’t even exceed warm-up exercises. And yet here you are, out of mana, sprawled helplessly on the ground… Is that all your love for your fiancé amounts to?”

“Haa… haa…”

“Hmph. Not even the strength to retort? Then die.”

In that desperate moment, Estella grinned.

Only then did Crow notice—

A strange plant had grown along the ceiling of the chamber.

“That can’t be—!!”

The plant dropped a single massive seed.

It struck the ground directly and detonated in a colossal explosion.

Naturally, Estella did not escape unscathed.

She was slammed back-first into the wall, consciousness fading.

Her eyelids barely open, she could only stare at Crow standing on the far side.

(Only minimal damage… huh…)

“Well done, Estella!! To wound me—a Transcender—is truly magnificent!! Excellent… my revenge is reaching its climax. As a reward, I’ll kill you with a very special spell!!”

Crow fused his familiars into one, forging a gigantic sword of darkness.

“Blade of Shadow—Laspada!!!!! Die, Estellaaaaa!!!!!”

The shadow blade split the air, surging forward to reap Estella’s life.

In a world slowed to near stillness, she gazed at it calmly.

(Heh… heh… who could possibly stop a taboo-class spell like this… I’m sorry, Crown Prince Sirius. This is all I could manage. …Live on, and lead the Empire…)

—In that instant.

From the corridor to the right, someone flew in at a speed exceeding sound itself.

Drawing a blade, that figure slid between Estella and the shadow blade.

…and then—

CLANGGGGGGG!!!!

With nothing more than an ordinary sword, the magic was stopped.

Without using any magic at all, Crow’s trump card was completely neutralized.

“Are you alright, Estella?”

“A… Al…?”

“Yeah. Your friend, Al.”

“Stop… he’s the former Chief Court Magician… a Transcender, at that. Leave me and run…”

Al turned a gentle smile toward her.

“Relax, Estella. This is something I often say to my family—

—When it comes to moments like this, I’m stronger than anyone else in this world.”

Al knocked the shadow blade away with a single powerful swing and stepped forward toward Crow.

Dream-attribute court magician, Al Dragals.

By some twist of fate, he too was a Transcender—one who ruled over and freely manipulated the phenomenon known as dreams and illusions.