A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

The "black key" shattered into a pile of scattered pieces.

The blade of "The Last Echo" was bent, though only slightly... but it was indeed bent.

"It's chipped again." The barely perceptible chipping of the blade made Bray fall silent.

Does it hurt?

"What are you talking about, you idiot Master?"

"Of course, it doesn't hurt at all."

"This sword is not my body."

“Really? That’s great,” Bray said softly.

"The Last Song" was already a broken sword, and Bray didn't want it to become even more broken.

Admittedly, Bray, who is constantly fighting with the "Swan Song," is the least qualified to speak.

But Bray still genuinely didn't want the "swan song" to become even more scarred.

If the damage to the "Final Echo" would cause the girl pain, Bray might even put the longsword away.

Even if he might lose to Takaman without a longsword, he would probably still do it.

The girl was well aware of this, which is why she always thought Bray was a complete idiot.

"Don't worry about such trivial matters. There's a demigod standing in front of you!" the girl said angrily.

"Okay," Bray responded, and resumed his fighting stance.

With every movement Bray made, blood seeped from his wound.

Just a second before his confrontation with Takaman, Bray's injuries were indeed healed by divine magic.

But during the confrontation, his body was once again covered in wounds.

Those were more serious injuries than before, covering his entire body.

The cracked skin will bleed due to Bray's vigorous movements.

There was an inconspicuous dent in his ribs, caused by a powerful impact.

No matter how you try to avoid it, you can never be 100% immune to damage.

Even that small percentage of damage that overflowed was enough to leave Bray in this miserable state.

“You—you have cleaved my rocky body in two,” Takaman said to Bray.

However, Takaman's tone did not reveal any particular anger; on the contrary, it was full of intense fighting spirit.

He wants to fight! He wants to slaughter! Just like he does now.

"Continue!!! Keep fighting with me!!! Human! Ring-bearer! Braclas!" A roar came from a crack in the head of the Takaman Rock.

The roar was mixed with terrifying flames.

The flames burned the entire wasteland, and few tombstones bearing the names of sinners remained.

"Hahaha!! Keep fighting! Fight with me forever!" Takaman's words were filled with his fervor for battle.

The injury made Takaman even more excited.

His damaged rock body was not repaired; the broken parts were extremely glaring.

Takaman possesses a physique that is terrifying even among silver-ranked beings, but while his defensive capabilities reach terrifying levels, he has lost the ability to regenerate at high speed.

The more robust the physical body, the more difficult it is to repair.

At a level like Takaman's, it can take nearly a year to heal a single wound.

However, the idea of ​​inflicting a wound on Takaman is practically absurd.

But Bray did it, just now.

Unfortunately, Bray's sword also came at a price.

"Why aren't you attacking! Why are you standing still!" Takaman urged Bray, the intense heat emanating from the magma on the rock's surface palpable even from a distance.

"Don't waste time!"

Bray simply couldn't understand this fanaticism; he just silently calmed himself and felt the sword in his hand.

His left eye, now devoid of magic, looks like an ordinary prosthetic eye, except that the pattern in the pupil is somewhat mysterious.

Bray could see nothing, but he could feel the intense emotions emanating from Takaman with perfect clarity.

Like a volcano, it is constantly erupting with fervor.

"Hurry up and keep fighting with me!" Takaman's condition was very different from when he first started.

At first glance, Takaman seemed as steady as a rock.

Nowadays, He is more like molten lava, restless and bringing a powerful sense of oppression.

Bray remained silent, only responding to Takaman's urgent request with his own sword.

The blade sliced ​​through, a cold light flashing, and blood flowed down his hand, staining the blade and hilt red.

"Eighteen Styles" "Two-Stage Division"

“That’s exactly how it should be!” Takaman swept his massive spear down heavily.

"boom!"

"Continue!!!" Takaman clenched his free left hand into a fist and slammed it toward Bray.

"..." Bray moved his feet expressionlessly.

The effects of the divine spell left to him by Betley were still active, and he used the spell to unleash an extraordinary speed, retreating from Takaman's attack range.

"BOOM!!!" The fist smashed a crater in the ground.

But Takaman immediately pulled his fist out, turning it into a claw, and lunged at Bray.

At the same time, he pulled his spear back sharply, ready to pursue.

"Swoosh—" Takaman's claws drew up a spray of blood as they swept across a wound that ran from Bray's shoulder down to his abdomen.

Unable to dodge, Bray staggered back a small step.

And this small step—was incredibly fatal.

Despite his injuries, Bray finally revealed a weakness, which allowed Him to successfully capture him.

"Crack—" Takaman shoved Bray directly into the pit, dragging him a short distance on the ground, leaving a bloody gash.

Under the pressure of the claws, Bray's muscles were torn slightly.

But just as Takaman was about to crush Bray, he found his hands were empty.

Takaman's gaze shifted to the left, and Bray escaped from Takaman's grasp.

"Should I just rip my hand open?" Takaman muttered to himself as he glanced at his shattered hand.

His rocky body was destroyed once again; it seems that the last time it wasn't just luck that the other side got away with it.

But isn't this just right?

Do you enjoy this fight?

“I don’t enjoy it,” Bray said calmly, his eyes narrowed.

Bray was completely covered in blood—his bare torso, weapons, trousers, and hair were all stained red.

It was all the color of blood.

If Bray were to open his eyes at this moment, he would probably find his vision stained a bright red.

"Drink..." Bray gasped for breath, standing firm, his posture hardly resembling that of a seriously injured person.

“But I’m enjoying it!” Takaman said, thrusting his drawn-back spear toward where Bray was standing.

Takaman was very satisfied. The enemy, whom he could not defeat even after repeated attacks, made him extremely eager for battle.

"Boom! Boom!!!" In this mental world, the huge sounds merged into one, making it impossible to tell where the sounds were coming from.

“…” Bray gripped his broadsword tightly.

This silver-tier character claims to be very strong, and he's not exaggerating.

but facts.

Even if the concept is blocked, even if the innate flames are ineffective, Takaman's remaining power can still so shock the world.

"Clang—" The black blade shattered for what seemed like the umpteenth time, and saved Bray's life for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

He was still standing, even with blood flowing and bones shattered, he could still stand like a demon.

The reason Bray was still able to stand was simple—the fortress that had quietly appeared behind him had not yet collapsed.

The fortress stands on the desert, a desert as somber as the cross-shaped cemetery.

Even the color tones are almost identical, giving people a sense of oppression, and even making them feel like they can't breathe.

Because of this, neither Takaman nor Bray himself noticed the sudden appearance of the fortress.

The impregnable fortress stood seamlessly behind Bray.

Bray's synergy with the "Black Key" is not high; he cannot use his mental world as easily as he can with "Echoes".

This mental world only unfolds at a certain time and moment.

Now is the time for an unyielding fortress to appear on the desert.

The colors of the sky are frozen in time, capturing the moment before dawn, a time of darkness and obscurity.

In this dim world, only a bleeding swordsman stood.

"Hoo..." Bray's body trembled uncontrollably, the pain stimulating his nerves.

“Come on, Brayclas.” Takaman beckoned to Bray.

A gust of wind swept across the desert, then suddenly stopped.

"Ding—" A bright light flashed in this dim world, the point where weapons collided.

The light was so faint, yet it seemed to have the power to illuminate the world.

The light expanded continuously in Bray and Takaman's vision, and in the world of one human and one god, it eventually dwindled to just a white glow.

Bray continued running, as if frozen in a frame of animation.

Everything around was pure white, without a single flaw or impurity.

So white it can evoke a sense of dread.

"Even at a time like this, are you still so stubborn?" A blurry figure stood beside Bray with his arms crossed, speaking in a teasing tone.

The figure looked remarkably like Bray, but his face was obscured.

The only thing that was clear was the sound that seemed to come from the horizon.

"No matter how many times you come, it won't make a difference." Bray didn't move or open his mouth, but those words definitely reached the figure's ears.

"No, that day will come eventually."

"I am you, and I am the one who knows you best."

"That fisherman is what you will become in the future," the figure said softly.

"..."

"You already know a very important point, which is that—for the sake of certain things, you can give up other important things." The figure's tone carried a hint of a smile.

He wasn't being sarcastic; he was simply stating a fact.

"—This time, make the same choice as always, my other self." The figure stretched out a hand, as if inviting Bray to go somewhere.

"Get out." Bray's reply was just one word.

A strange smile appeared on the blurry face of the figure.

Bray ignored the figure and instead used all his strength to try to break free from the constraints around him.

He knew exactly where he was and what he had just seen.

That's why he struggled so hard.