Chapter 47
creaking sound filled the field as a crack ran through the blade.
Lugh peered closer. The Hero remained barely conscious, merely holding on to the blade.
(It's not that he fears me… or his death. His fear is something greater.) Lugh thought to himself.
The blade finally hit its limit and snapped apart. The Hero fell to the ground.
(Just what are you trying to protect, Hero?)
The audience burst into slander against Lugh.
"You cheapster!"
"Poor Hero…"
Such words filled the air as trash was thrown toward Lugh.
A barrier was erected just in time, blocking the garbage from entering the arena.
Lugh began to walk toward the Hero.
Each step echoed in the Hero's ears, even through the chaotic crowd.
From the ground, reddened eyes glared upward as Lugh stopped before him and gazed down.
(What are you trying to protect, Hero?) Lugh thought.
"Fight me without solely relying on the blade. Don't think of anything except this battle."
Though harsh, the words were motivating.
Suddenly, chains formed and coiled tightly around Lugh.
Hundreds of armored knights of the Church—known as Paladins—rushed into the arena and surrounded him.
They raised their blades toward the chained Lugh.
The Pope slowly walked forward.
"It is impossible that someone could defeat the Hero with a simple pebble. You are under arrest on suspicion of having formed a contract with demons," stated Anacard.
Lugh remained silent in the face of the accusations. He slowly turned his gaze toward Riley, who sat upon the throne.
Riley brought his left hand toward the hilt of his blade—but stopped as Lugh discreetly signaled him not to interfere.
Aria stood up sharply.
"Arrest him?"
Headmaster Kierro snarled.
"What kind of accusation is that?"
The audience was flabbergasted as their trash-talk intensified even further.
The Pope raised his hand.
"Proceed with the arre—"
"Stop this instant!"
A voice demanded with overwhelming authority. The arena trembled from a single step. The slandering crowd fell into stunned silence.
The Pope turned.
"Are you going against the official matters of the Church, Lucious Redhart?" he questioned.
"I find it extremely offensive," Lucious replied.
"What do you find so offensive?" the Pope pressed.
"First—how dare you accuse my brother of affiliation with demons?" Lucious demanded, his tone cold and controlled.
"Are you saying your brother stands above royal decree?" the Pope asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Second," Lucious continued, paying the Pope no attention, "I find it extremely offensive that you have sullied both their honors by interrupting a battle mid-fight."
"This battle is already over," the Pope declared.
A wobbling footstep echoed.
The Pope's eyes widened as he turned back.
There, standing tall, was Alexi—the Hero. His body was riddled with injuries.
(How is he still standing?)
Alexi staggered forward and leaned against a Paladin.
"G-give me your sw-sword…"
The Paladin froze, staring into the Hero's reddened eyes—eyes filled with newfound determination.
Such determination had never been seen from the Hero before.
Slowly, the Paladin handed over the blade.
The Hero slid it from its scabbard.
"GET AWAY. THIS BATTLE ISN'T OVER!!" he screamed.
Lucious turned.
"This battle has not been concluded. As for my brother's accusation, I request a trial by the Holy Orb."
The Pope smiled eerily.
"You heard him, knights. Back off."
The Paladins retreated.
Aria sighed in relief and leaned back into her throne.
The Headmaster remained troubled, his thoughts fixed on what would become of Lugh.
Alexi steadied his breathing.
"Lugh Redhart… I ask for a rematch. This time, I won't hold back."
Lugh smirked and shattered the chains binding him with sheer force. He finally drew his blade.
"I accept this duel."
The arena was cleared.
Only the Hero and Lugh remained.
A fire ignited within Alexi as he met Lugh's gaze. His deeply seated Hero Core finally activated, rampaging through his body as mana engulfed him.
The pain slowly faded.
His pulse went rampant as he charged toward Lugh.
Alexi closed the distance in an instant.
He gripped his one-handed blade and unleashed an overhead strike.
In response, Lugh swept his blade horizontally, steel colliding with steel.
A massive clang erupted at the point of impact, followed by an immense surge of mana that shattered the barriers once more.
All those on standby were rendered speechless.
Lugh and Alexi leapt back simultaneously before rushing forward again, engaging in continuous sword clashes.
Steel screamed.
Each collision rang like a war bell, sparks scattering across the ruined arena as their blades met again and again—horizontal sweeps, vertical cleaves, lethal thrusts—each strike overflowing with intent.
Mana detonated with every impact.
As the battle dragged on, Alexi began bleeding from his mouth.
It was too late.
He no longer cared about his body.
For the first time—
Alexi wasn't fighting to fulfill expectations.
He wasn't fighting for the Church.
He wasn't fighting for prophecy.
His body neared its limit, but his will stood firm before his monumental opponent.
The Hero clung desperately to his blade. Meanwhile, Lugh felt nothing—not even excitement—as he noticed Alexi was being restrained by something unseen.
(He's bleeding from the inside out?) Lugh pondered, his gaze piercing deep within him.
"That's it!"
He parried Alexi's blade upward, creating an opening, and thrust his sword straight into Alexi's chest.
Blood splattered as the blade pierced through him, Alexi frozen in agony.
But there was more.
Lugh's blade didn't just pierce his chest—it shattered the artificial chain binding the Hero Core to Alexi's Source.
The chain ruptured, releasing an overwhelming surge of mana.
Lugh withdrew his blade and immediately cast, "Heilzala."
Alexi's grass-green hair fluttered as he collapsed backward. His purple eyes glistened brightly.
His stamina recovered. His body healed. His will remained intact.
Yet—it was no longer the same.
Something deep within him had changed, liberated from the shackles that once bound him.
(Hero Core… fully activated.)
A pillar of mana erupted from where Alexi stood. Amidst the raging wave, his eyes burned violet.
Lugh's smirk widened.
(There it is.)
Their swords locked.
For a brief moment, time itself seemed to halt.
"I won't—!" Alexi growled. "—LOSE AGAIN!"
Lugh leaned in, eyes calm—almost gentle.
"Good," he said quietly. "Now you're finally fighting."
With a sharp twist of his wrist, Lugh broke the bind and stepped inside Alexi's guard.
Too fast.
Alexi's eyes widened as Lugh slammed his pommel into Alexi's ribs, launching him backward. He skidded across the arena, coughing blood—yet forced himself upright before collapsing.
His legs trembled.
Still—he stood.
The audience trembled with him.
The Pope clenched his staff in silence.
Lucious Redhart smiled faintly.
Alexi wiped the blood from his mouth and tightened his grip on the borrowed blade.
Mana erupted around him—denser, violent, unrefined—yet undeniably his own.
Lugh raised his sword, posture steady, eyes locked solely on Alexi.
"Come," he said.
"Show me the hero you choose to be."