A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Bray absolutely could not spend a single second longer with this guy; he would not allow himself to be persuaded by this so-called other self.

"I look forward to seeing you again," the figure said.

"Crack—" Dark cracks appeared in the surrounding white space, and Bray's body slowly began to move.

“Next time I’ll still tell you to ‘get lost.’” Bray glanced at the dark figure, said this, and then took a heavy step forward.

After that step was taken, the white world shattered, and the dazzling flash of light in reality faded away.

The desert was once again covered by a somber, cold hue, and Takaman's enormous body came back into Bray's sight.

At the same time, what came into Bray's line of sight was a huge spear that was over 6 meters long.

The faint firelight, though unable to dispel the darkness before dawn, still provided a touch of warmth.

"Brekras!! I'm having a blast!!!!!!!!!!" Takaman roared, the ground scorched black by the blows of his spear.

"I really enjoyed myself!"

"..." Bray, facing the fanatical Takaman and the scorching spear, gripped his sword tightly without expression.

A clang rang out, the sound of metal colliding with rock.

The flames rose up, like withered petals.

After the petals of flame fell, they turned into countless sparks and faded away.

Beneath the firelight stood the immovable mine, and above it still lay the massive spear.

The two swords struggled to parry Takaman's spear.

The spear cannot be used to change tactics mid-strike; if it is used to change tactics, it will give the enemy a chance to counterattack.

It shouldn't be raised either, because raising it would give Bray a chance to catch his breath.

All Takaman can do now is keep adding force to the gun, keep increasing the force, and keep increasing it.

"Crack—" The ground a few meters beneath Bray's feet shattered slightly, and then the ground a dozen meters away exploded into countless pieces of gravel, raising dust like gunpowder smoke.

As the force of the gun pressed down surged, Bray's arms began to deform slightly.

Sure enough, no matter how unreasonable the method of unloading force is, there will still be a limit.

"Thump!" The spear finally broke through Bray's defenses and slashed straight down, slamming Bray to the ground.

The mine, which had been smashed to the ground, was bounced several meters high.

From mid-air to the ground, blood filled every part of the scene.

After landing, Bray braced himself with his sword to prevent himself from rolling away.

He struggled to his feet, the ground stained dark red from the blood on his body.

“That’s right! Just stand up!” Seeing the enemy stubbornly stand up, Takaman was genuinely excited.

He doesn't enjoy watching the weak struggle, but rather the indomitable spirit of warriors.

Those who crumble at the first blow are not enemies at all, and cannot give Takaman any sense of the thrill of battle.

"Thud, thud." As Takaman raised his spear, some hot stones fell from his body.

A perfectly shaped profile can become uneven if it has some bumps or dents.

However, Takaman's indifference and the fact that he was injured proves that the battle was real.

“You’re really noisy.” Bray wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand; his eye patch had fallen off in the middle of the fight and was lying in the distance.

"Dissatisfied?! Then come and defeat me!" Takaman laughed instead of getting angry.

The next moment, Bray's broadsword "slammed" into Takaman's abdomen.

The blade shattered, scattering sparks everywhere.

That's how Bray answered.

"Hahaha!" Takaman had long since cast aside any notion of "composure," as if he were filled with a burning fighting spirit.

“That’s more like it. I should thank Jonathan for not letting me fight you so soon!” Takaman swung his longsword, sending Bray flying, returning the blow from before. “Boom—” Bray was swept away by Takaman’s attack, flying dozens of meters before crashing into the dilapidated iron gate of the fortress.

The entire fortress trembled.

Then the mental world was torn apart, shattered like glass.

The cemetery of the cross in Betley faded away, leaving only the projected image of the fortress and the somber landscape.

Takaman and Bray, who had been locked away in the cemetery, reappeared in Betley's sight.

"Really?" Beatrix clutched his stomach, staring blankly at the dust billowing in front of him.

“No, if we go now, that guy will die.” Betley gritted his teeth. Although his injuries were severe, if he didn’t do something soon, Bray would be beaten to death by that silver-blooded guy.

“Shh, Mr. Ring-Holder Number Two, wouldn’t it be better to just watch quietly?” Jonathan, wearing a mask, gestured for Beattie to be quiet.

“…” Betley instantly became alert; he didn’t even know when Jonathan had approached.

Betley was so focused on Bray's situation that he ignored his surroundings.

“Don’t be so nervous. The villain won’t do anything, and you won’t do anything either, how about that?” Jonathan poked his mask and offered his suggestion.

"And look, Mr. Monk is about to stand up."

"Ahhh~ This is unbearable, what an intoxicating battle!" Jonathan's tone was dazed, as if he was truly immersed in the battle in front of him.

"Although I hate solving things with violence, I have to admit that some battles are just too fascinating."

---

Bray's broadsword flew several meters away from his hand, and the fragments did not immediately reassemble.

Even the longsword lay horizontally in front of him.

He couldn't even hold his sword anymore; as a swordsman, this was a huge disservice to his sword.

With that thought in mind, Bray reached out and grabbed the longsword in front of him with difficulty, then stood up.

Even though Bray managed to deflect most of the impact at the last second, his body still couldn't withstand the remaining damage.

Although the iron gate remained motionless, Bray could clearly feel what was happening inside his body.

Many bones are broken, and we don't know if there are any problems with the internal organs.

Bray reopened his right eye; he was no longer able to support his Mind's Eye in this state.

"I really enjoyed this fight!"

"Thank you so much," Takaman said solemnly, running his left hand along the shaft of the spear.

His body was battered and broken, as if it had been struck by a blunt object and then by rocks.

Despite his own body being injured like this, He was still very happy.

The "Third Demon King," Takaman, had only experienced two or three truly exhilarating battles throughout his long life.

In other situations, Takaman was unable to feel the reality of the battle.

The reason is simple: His enemies were too weak.

Even though His abilities were sealed during this battle, He had no complaints.

More than just dissatisfied, He even wanted to thank the white-haired human, the clown, who created this arena for Him.

The person I am most grateful to is this human being.

Therefore, He must strike with the conviction of defeating His opponent.

Therefore, with every strike, He exerts His full strength in that moment.

"Whoosh—" A rapid sound rang out. It was not the sound of someone breathing, but the sound of flames flickering.

The lava flowing through the cracks in the rocky body of Takaman bursts into flames.

The flames spread down his arm and across the entire spear.

He understood that the fire would not be of much use to Bray, but He still used His own innate fire.

This is going all out, so I have to use everything I have.

Moreover, after Betley's mental world was destroyed, He was able to use His own concepts once again.

All the magic in the world of Eratababa was drawn into Takaman.

At the same time, He made a choice—to return the magic and inner energy to Bray.

If such a wonderful battle were to end so hastily, Takaman would be the first to disagree.

From the moment the battle began, He never thought about what would happen after the battle.

Who dies or who perishes, or whether they die together or not, it doesn't matter to Takaman.

He only wanted a spectacular battle that would set His soul ablaze.

"What do you want to do?" Bray felt the returning magic and inner energy, and looked at Takaman with a puzzled expression with his right eye.

"I just wanted the battle to end abruptly." Sparks flew from the flames on Takaman's body, evaporating the surging tide behind him the instant it rose.

If He regains the power to use concepts, but the opponent is no longer at his peak—the battle will become a foregone conclusion.

It's not that He's arrogant; this is simply the reality.

Takaman was well aware of Bray's condition; he was barely hanging on.

Whether Bray will die after he calms down is unknown.

He knew only that once this anger subsided, the opponent would definitely fall, along with the fortress behind him.

“Pick up your sword, I’ll wait for you.” Takaman’s eyes were fixed on Bray.

Takaman had previously found Brena's right eye repulsive, but now he was quite satisfied with it.

Like a stagnant pool, it will not change.

Even in dire straits, his gaze remained calm, a calmness that actually contained boundless power.

Unyielding—these are the two words Takaman is reading through Bray's right eye now.

Bray staggered toward the broadsword lying on the ground, where only the hilt remained, and lifted it up.

The fragments, like birds in flight, returned to their original positions in the next instant.

Since Takaman allowed Bray to take back his weapon, he wouldn't be coy.

However, he gave Takaman a thank-you look.

When Takaman saw this, he didn't say anything, but simply stood his spear upright, quietly waiting for Bray to pick up his second sword.

"Fight..." Bray murmured, his mind racing with thoughts.

For some reason, from that moment on, Bray felt that his reason for fighting Takaman had become very complicated.

He no longer seemed to be fighting Takaman because of the commission Nickbolas had given him.

Bray inexplicably felt that he was fighting for strange reasons that he couldn't even understand himself.

There was no surge of excitement, nor any complicated thoughts in my mind.

If Bray were to say that he was fighting bravely against a powerful enemy with the intention of protecting and saving others, he would probably be the first person to think that it was a joke.

Once he had grasped the two swords, he naturally began to fight Takaman with all his might.

"This time it's my turn to speak."

“Come on, Takaman.” Bray held his longsword in reverse, while his broadsword was held upright in front of him. Magic flowed from Bray’s left eye like an inextinguishable will-o’-the-wisp.

By the way, he was probably moving forward, heading down a path he himself didn't even know the direction of.

Advance forward, without taking a single step back.

Perhaps, this is why they are fighting. Each clash of weapons produced a deafening roar, like rocks shattering and clouds flowing.

Even after the sound fades away, it still seems to linger in your ears.

The projected fortress is now in the same dilapidated state as Bray.

However, even so, the fortress did not live up to its name of "unyielding".

Above the thick clouds, the first rays of dawn await.

"..." The dragon pattern on Bray's body lit up for a moment, and then the "Black Key" in his hand left a trail of afterimages, and the tip of the sword landed precisely on the tip of the opponent's spear.