Re:Zero - Jobless Reincarnation: Succubus Sword God? I don't recognize it!

Chapter 589 The Chasing Figure, the Significance of Proof
Before Alice reached the water tower, more than twenty corpses were already behind her.

For a remote town in the far north, an annual income is less than a single gold coin.

Many people, even those seriously ill, do not have the money to travel to Pepin to find a magician with healing abilities to help them. The highest-paid hunters do have the money, but they often do not seek medical treatment.

The forests of the far north are teeming with wild beasts, as well as monsters. The chances of dying from disease are far lower than when you go out to hunt wild animals.

Therefore, the information released by Anzo Morella was very tempting, making them want to take a gamble.

A worthless life, it's worthless.

If Ariel or Dillick were here, they might still be lamenting the hardships of life with a sense of detachment from reality.

But for Alice, whoever kills me, I will kill; as for others, I don't consider them at all.

She swung her sword twenty-seven times, took three hundred and twelve steps, and arrived at the water tower.

He sheathed his sword, assumed the starting stance for a draw-and-slash move, then kicked the iron door open and went inside.

There were no houses in the town with more than two stories, so the water tower was very short, only two stories high. It was cramped and damp. As soon as Alice entered, she saw a group of people surrounding her.

The red-haired girl glanced at everyone, counted to ten, then stopped calculating the exact number and simply scanned their faces before asking:
Where is Anzo Morella?

The short man with the large head gripped the hilt of his knife tightly and retorted fiercely, "If you want to see your master, kill us first!"

His companions turned to look at him, paused for a moment, and then all looked at Alice.

Alice looked around, frowned, and suddenly said, "It's too high!"

This time it was the short man's turn to be stunned: "What?"

Alice pointed to her head.

The short man turned around and looked around. When he realized that he could only see his companion's neck when he looked straight ahead, he realized that she was talking about height.

Apart from herself, everyone present was tall and robust, each more than a head taller than the red-haired woman in front of her.

He turned his head and drew his knife with a whoosh: "You brat, are you looking down on me?"

His response was a sharp clang as his sword was drawn.

Alice drew her sword, placed it at her side, and silently watched him.

The short man glanced at her knife and thought to himself:
The Light Blade has three starting stances. This stance is not a draw slash, so it seems to be a high stance. To deal with a high stance, a mid stance is the most suitable.

He flicked his wrist and placed the sword in front of him, but before he could even have another thought, he saw his companions, who were out of the corner of his eye, all move at once. They leaned forward and charged aggressively, as if they had forgotten the light sword techniques their master had taught them and had returned to the brute force of their old bandit gang.

The radical part isn't that the person moves with the sword, but rather that the head leads the body in movement.
Head, with body
The short man's pupils constricted sharply, his face filled with horror.

That wasn't charging forward; it was clearly...
Yu Guangzhong's companion's "upper half" twisted forward, separating from the "lower half" of his torso. Some people had half a collarbone; some were separated neatly from the neck; some had lost a piece of their chin, with a human face still attached; and some only had half a face.

Even the cross-section of the nasal cavity of that face was so clear in the field of vision.

They tumbled and spun in the air, scattering blood, and then...
Crash! It fell all over the floor!
The lower halves of the corpses, now free from the control of their brains, fell to the ground.

The short man looked at his companions slumped at his feet and belatedly realized that the drawing of his sword just now was not a starting stance, but a pause after swinging the sword.

With a single, horizontal slash, he drew his sword and killed all those taller than himself.

The short man's body trembled violently, and he could barely stand. But just then, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs behind him.

He suddenly turned around and ran behind him: "Master!"

He fell to the ground with a thud, his head severed from his body.

The head landed next to the mottled boots and was kicked aside.

Anzo Morella glanced at the corpses strewn across the ground, then looked up at the fiery red-haired Alice, sensing the sword intent emanating from her blade, and laughed:
"A bunch of rabble, aren't they?"

Alice narrowed her eyes: "Anzo Morella?"

“Exactly.” Anzo Morella, using his sword to lightly touch the bloodless ground, said as he approached Alice, “Sometimes I really envy Gar. So many talented and amazing people are willing to become his apprentices. He really benefits from the glory of the Holy Land of Swords.”

“My master is not Garr.”

"Oh? Who is that? The Sword Sanctuary only has one nominal 'master,' and that's Gar. Could it be that another swordsmanship genius I don't know about has emerged? If so, I'll be quite looking forward to it."

Alice, seemingly lost in thought of something delightful, suddenly broke into a bright smile, though her tone was full of disdain:

You won't have a chance to see him!

boom! ! ! !

The fierce howl of the wind exploded on the spot, blasting the wooden spiral staircase behind Anzo Morella into dust. The wind scattered in all directions, making the entire water tower creak and groan.

An ugly crack stretched from where Alice had just been, all the way to Anzo Morella, and then stopped abruptly.

Sizzle, sizzle, the blades scraped together, sawing against each other. Anzo Morella, watching the cold glint of the blade and the fiery red pupils behind it, didn't retreat an inch. He pressed the sword down on Alice's hand, inch by inch, towards her neck:

"Indeed, Gal's style is not swift and agile; it conceals a great deal of killing intent, which is a huge advantage for his draw-and-swipe attack. However, his mid-stage strength is insufficient. He can quickly defeat a swordsman of equal skill, but against someone significantly stronger, he becomes powerless."

Alice gritted her teeth, stomped her foot on the ground, creating a deep pit in the floor, splinters flying everywhere. She generated strength in her feet, ducked out of Anzo Morella's slashing range, and twisted her body to stab at Anzo Morella's side.

However, Anzo Morella countered with a wrist strike, attempting to sever Alice's hand.

She abruptly withdrew her hand, lightly touched the ground with her toes, flipped over to create distance, assumed a sword-drawing slashing stance, lowered her body, but did not rush to attack, instead focusing her attention on Anzo Morella's legs.

The latter, seeing that his countermeasures had failed, was not angry, but rather displayed a leisurely, cat-and-mouse-like demeanor, and mocked:
"It even has traces of the Water God School. It's a mess, trying to learn everything but mastering nothing."

However, he forgot that he was twenty years older than Alice.

However, at this moment, Alice's figure was somewhat blurry in his eyes, like an illusion that could not be solidified.

Anzo Morella's pupils contracted, and he suddenly thrust his sword to the right, plunging it into the cracked floorboards at his feet.

boom! !

A violent explosion resounded below his right ribs, and a fierce sword aura erupted from the blade at his waist, tearing his clothes to shreds. Anzo Morella shifted two steps to the left to avoid being cut by the parrying sword.

Alice landed a successful blow and instantly retreated to the wall, then assumed a sword-drawing stance, continuing to crouch and stare at Anzo Morella's feet.

The latter glanced down at his tattered clothes, pulled the sword from the ground, turned to look at Alice, and the smile on his face finally disappeared:
"Mute?"

The sword energy came again, and Anzo Morella made a gesture to slash. Sure enough, Alice didn't manage to strike, so she retreated and changed her position to continue observing Anzo Morella.

The combination of Nen Flow and Light Blade is a unique tactic of pulling and stretching.

After a year of self-reflection, Alice is no longer the reckless little lion she once was.

Against weaker opponents, she'll charge in recklessly. Against stronger opponents, she'll hold back and fight strategically.

Anzo Morella's disdain was unusually strong as he stared directly at her and said:
"Your approach is strange, and your master doesn't seem very capable either. Let me teach you what the Light Blade truly is."

He raised his wrist and sheathed the sword: "This is..."

Before she could finish speaking, the blade came again. Anzo Morella, mirroring Alice's movements, slashed at her blade. The aura exploded, and although Alice wasn't struck directly, the light katana, with its significantly superior aura quality, slammed her body against the water tower's inner wall. Boom! Alice slumped down the spiderweb-cracked wall, spitting out blood, but her expression didn't falter. Instead, she quickly shifted her position, searching for another opportunity.

Anzo Morella remained unmoved, tapping the tip of his blade. Teaching the apprentices of the Sword Sanctuary gave him a tremendous sense of accomplishment, as if the deity in his dream had truly spoken: 'Listen to me—sooner or later you'll have the chance to establish your own school, crushing Garna trash under your feet. You will be the true master of the Sword God style.'

His eyes burned with the fire of desire, and his sword intent became even sharper. He then continued what he had just said:
"Draw Sword Slash. As the saying goes, those who can see the flaws use the draw sword slash. The core of this slash lies in concealing the killing intent. The reason why you were so easily injured by the scattered fighting spirit of my slash is because you did not accurately capture the landing point of my blade."

He assumed a mid-range stance and chuckled, "Next up is the mid-range. In Garr's words, using the mid-range when there's no offensive rhythm leans towards defense. But in the Sword God style, there's no defense, so this move is usually used..."

The sword suddenly appeared!
Flames appeared in front of Anzo Morella's right side abdomen, accompanied by flashing light.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his eyes clearly reflecting the shape of flames—but those weren't flames at all; they were clearly Alice's fluttering hair.
boom! !

The incoming blade was severed in one stroke, the shattered tip spinning in the air. Anzo Morella and Alice exchanged glances, their fiery red pupils revealing only fury.

He compressed his fighting spirit into his leg and kicked Alice away.

The latter flipped in mid-air, trying to maintain its balance, but it lost its momentum and knocked over the ruins of the spiral staircase behind it, finally stopping when it hit the wall.

She stumbled twice before finally standing up, her face covered in blood, her hand holding only a broken sword. She remained focused on the enemy's legs.

Anzo Morella scoffed at the sight:
"A broken sword in the middle. Garr was wrong. Based on my previous strength, your strange sword aura might have been somewhat effective against me, but now... I am stronger. The gods have bestowed upon me a burning desire."

Logically, you don't deserve to have your name remembered, but I've heard that your comprehension is truly remarkable. Therefore, Alice Boreas Greirat, I can allow you to die as my apprentice.

He grinned cruelly and said:
"Finally, there is the upper stage. The so-called master of the offensive uses the upper stage. This is the simplest and most effective form of the Sword God Style. It relies on the momentum of being powerful, fierce, and unstoppable, leaving no way to retreat. It concentrates the fighting spirit at the tip of the sword and swings the most confident light katana."

He held the knife in both hands, raising it high.

"After this katana of light, I will slay you without holding back. With honor in my heart, I will die peacefully!"

Anzo Morella blasted a deep crater beneath his feet, sending dirt flying, and he was almost instantly beside Alice, swinging his knife toward the girl's neck.

Alice concentrated her fighting spirit on her uninjured right leg, jumped up, and barely managed to raise the broken blade to block the attack. However, the immense power emanating from the light katana, a typical swordsmanship style of desire, tore countless fine and tight marks around her clothes.

She was thrown out, crashing through the ceiling of the first-floor water tower, her momentum undiminished as she hurtled towards the rusty railings of the watchtower on the second floor.

The impact made her eardrums buzz; she couldn't hear the sound of the wood breaking or the wind around her.

His eyes also temporarily went blind, gradually plunging into darkness.

Even though her bones felt like they were about to fall apart, and even though she was in pain all over her body, she still held onto a strong will and wanted to see Anzo Morella's footsteps clearly.

The man moved three steps to the right and forward, looking up at him—the direction from which he had fallen.
He assumed the starting stance for the draw slash of the Light Blade.
He wanted to cut himself in half as he fell.
He wants
Alice couldn't see clearly.

Her vision was plunged into darkness.

A moment of bewilderment appeared on his face.

There's nothing we can do against this kind of enemy? They're just at the level of a relatively strong swordsman.
My brother.
You wouldn't even need a single strike to kill someone like that.
Am I still unable to stand by his side?
I still can't stand by his side.
But how can he get back to the capital, how can he get back to his side?
how
Suddenly, light appeared in my field of vision, and the memories in my mind blended together to form a distant yet clear picture, hazy yet real, that emerged before my eyes.

It was a hand with rough lines and obvious marks from holding a sword, but the fingers were long and slender, with calluses clearly visible.

Forward hand position, palm facing upward: "Upholding the spirit of the sword, with a clear and pure mind."

He turned his hand back, palm facing down: "I think, I do, I get."

It was my brother's voice.

Alice glanced sideways instinctively, and the field of memory did indeed shift.

In my line of sight, Allen's smile was ardent and gentle, yet it carried an unwavering encouragement.

He said, "The Sword God Style is a piece of cake."

Alice smiled.

The darkness gave her a completely new sense of security. For a swordsman of the Sword God style, sight is something that cannot affect the course of battle at all.

Because a sword is faster than the eye.

She only needed to sense her own sword intent and the opponent's sword spirit.

Alice was always gazing at someone's back, chasing after someone's sword intent, and staring intently at the spot next to someone.

So, is her desire to prove something to the other person?
No, the other person's gaze is always intense, always looking forward; he never looks behind or to the side.

So, she just wanted to prove herself, to show that she was worthy to stand beside him.
Let's look forward together.

It wasn't about showing off or declaring anything. It was a heartfelt outpouring, addressed only to oneself.

Don't look outside for help.

Even though she was in the Holy Land of Swords, she was still a disciple of Allen.

She looks a lot like Allen.

The methods for breaking through the bottleneck of desire are also very similar.

-

Boom!
Alice leaned against the railing, using the momentum to sheath her sword.

Although the blade was damaged, it did not hinder her from wielding it.

The next instant, the world reversed, and she stood up from the ground. Her vision, which had been temporarily blinded due to insufficient blood supply from the impact, slowly returned.

Corpses, broken doors, a mess on the ground, mixed with twisted and crooked bodies.

This is the way we came from.

Alice turned her head to look behind her. Anzo Morella's back was still in the position of drawing his sword and slashing, just as it had been before he disappeared from sight.

He seemed to be trying his best to turn his head to look at us, but he couldn't move.

The next moment, *sizzle*
A smooth cut appeared on the side of his neck, extending all the way through his collarbone, chest, abdomen, heart, and lungs, emerging from his ribs.

He was broken in two, sprained and fell to the ground, his face filled with fear, confusion, and disbelief, as if he were about to speak.

Alice swung her knife and beheaded him, then hoisted him to the door.

She gazed at the rising sun leaping above the horizon, a radiant smile spreading across her face. She stepped out of the water tower's doorway, but then suddenly froze.

He suddenly thrust the knife towards his side!

Outside the water tower, a white-haired, black-clad "stranger" leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

The wind whipped by the blade slapped his face and ruffled his hair, but he just glanced at himself and smiled with narrowed eyes.

The broken blade hovered an inch in front of him, but he could not advance any further.

Allen did not use his fighting spirit.

(End of this chapter)