Shing.
Clang. Clang.
Every time our blades met on the staircase, sparks and golden magic scattered between Freyr and me. I was wreathed in the Golden Flame, while Freyr radiated the light of the Awakening skill.
My short sword and Freyr’s sword struck against each other again and again.
His blue eyes pierced straight through me.
“Storm Whirlwind.”
A technique of the Swordsman skill.
Freyr came at me without being hindered in the slightest by the uneven steps. His blade swept around in a low, spinning arc that followed the slope of the staircase.
I jumped backward down the stairs to evade it.
Rolling downhill would let me put more distance between us.
“Twin Scatter Strike.”
Two slashes came at me from opposite directions.
I knocked aside the first strike from the right, then slipped low across the stairs to evade the follow-up from the left.
Then I charged in.
I reversed my grip on the short sword and thrust upward.
Freyr caught the blade with his sword.
“You’ve grown.”
He smiled through the shower of sparks and pushed harder.
The Golden Flame surged through me, filling me with strength.
“Haa!”
I forced my short sword through his guard and slashed his arm. Freyr immediately retreated.
Wind swept between us, kicking up snow from the stairs.
I carefully measured the distance between us.
He still had the higher ground.
“…I thought it was strange.”
I steadied my breathing before speaking.
“That you were the one guiding me. Ymir intended to attack us from the very beginning.”
I used the time I’d bought to study my opponent and search for a more advantageous position. That was another lesson I’d learned about playing the game. Freyr raised an eyebrow, clearly offended by the accusation. His golden hair fluttered in the wind.
“This was not Ymir’s order.”
He tightened his grip on his sword.
“This was my decision.”
Freyr held his sword at mid-guard, his stance completely without openings. And yet, I felt the faintest sense that something was off. Neither Freyr nor I were the same as before. Not like we had been back in Flocia.
“If I obtain the heart, I’ll have a much stronger bargaining position with Ymir when it comes to Freyja.”
His beautiful smile only made him more frightening. It was as though he cared about nothing but his own interests.
“…What are you planning to do with Lu?”
“It’s the same as what happened to the body I currently inhabit. If her skills are devoured, the owner of the body will suffer severe mental damage and become little more than an empty shell. If Ymir devours Luisia’s Miko skill, Luisia’s mind will be lost… and Freyja will survive by taking over that girl’s body instead.”
When you’re truly angry, sometimes your mind becomes strangely calm. I could feel the expression draining from my face. This man saw my own sister—Luisia—as nothing more than a vessel.
Freyr twisted the corner of his mouth and pulled the necklace from inside his clothes.
Brísingamen…
He held the divine artifact up for me to see.
“—How dare you.”
“Then you should defeat me.”
Freyr shook his sword provocatively.
“Protect the heart, and take the divine artifact Brísingamen from me.”
Freyr changed his stance.
From mid-guard to high guard.
The moment one changes stance is a moment of vulnerability.
I could sense that he was deliberately inviting me in.
But this time—
I had to take the bait.
“Freyr!”
As I called his name, I activated a skill through the crystal embedded in my short sword.
“Wake up!”
From the step directly beneath Freyr, I awakened the wind spirit Sylph. Green light scattered from my dagger. A violent gust swept up the snow and hurled it straight at Freyr.
“Tch.”
Freyr leaped to the side.
I pursued him.
With the Golden Flame driving me forward, I refused to give him any room to dictate the distance between us.
“Why are you going to kill Lu?”
“What?”
“There might be a way to save both Freyja and Lu.”
Freyr gave a derisive laugh.
“I told you before. In order to obtain one thing, you must push the other aside.”
He had said the same thing back in Flocia.
If you wanted to gain something, there were always sacrifices to make—and the resolve to accept them.
“Frost Fang.”
The slash that came flying toward me was accompanied by countless icy fangs.
I twisted my body aside.
A razor-thin shard of cold sliced across my cheek.
“Rion. You must have been forced to choose as well—whether to flee to another world, or to stay here and fight. The choice you made is what brought you to where you are now.”
“That’s true.”
I took a breath.
“But… I’m selfish.”
The moment the wind swept past, I concealed my presence and closed the distance.
Freyr’s sword intercepted my slash from the side.
A sharp metallic clang rang out across the staircase.
“I’ll take Lu back.”
I tightened my grip.
“And I’ll take back the world, too.”
A roar erupted behind me.
The adventurers had collided with the monster army. The battle had begun at the foot of the stairs as well. The silent snowfield was gradually filling with the sounds of the decisive battle.
Freyr narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked down at me.
Then I noticed it. His shoulders were rising and falling with every breath.
“…Freyja wants you to come back alive, too.”
Just as Ymir and the monsters had been seriously wounded, there was no way this man had emerged unscathed.
At first, Freyr had seemed almost as strong as he had been back in Flocia. But the more our blades clashed, the more clearly I could sense the damage that had been carved into this god.
And then I realized—
My level had risen. Level 35.
The strength I had gained. The wounds Freyr was carrying. Those were the decisive differences between this battle and the one in Flocia.
“…Do you understand?”
Freyr’s eyes darkened as he let his sword hang loosely at his side.
The air changed.
“My sister and I have been together as gods for thousands of years. A weak brother who cannot protect his sister is no brother at all.”
The instant he seemed to sway—
He lunged.
I knocked his attack aside with my dagger, but I immediately understood what he was aiming for. He had drawn my attention to his upper body. But what actually moved was his leg—
“A leg sweep…!?”
It was a rough, down-and-dirty fighting style. The kind of technique an adventurer would use. Nils-san’s style.
I twisted my body to avoid it, but that threw off my balance. I went tumbling down the stairs.
Freyr closed in on me.
“Wake up!”
I summoned the fire spirit Salamander from my gauntlet and hurled an explosion of flame at him. But Freyr ducked beneath it. As he rose, he swung his sword upward.
“Dragon-Splitting Strike!”
It was a brute-force blow, as though he were striking me with raw magical power itself. Fragments of shattered stone slammed into my body. I somehow managed to get back on my feet, but blood burst from my right temple.
“Guh…”
As I got back to my feet, something flashed across the corner of my eye.
A golden glimmer. My gaze instinctively followed it. Because it was something I absolutely needed if I was going to save Lu.
The divine artifact—
Brísingamen. The Golden Flame enveloping my body flickered, almost as if it were shouting at me: “Notice it.”
“—!”
I raised my short sword on instinct.
Freyr lunged with a thrust. I deflected the blade away from my chest, guiding it toward my shoulder instead.
A searing pain tore through me. I swallowed the cry that rose in my throat and glared at him.
“Freyr…!”
Our sword and short sword collided, locking together in a struggle of strength.
—Take it back!
I could feel that message in his eyes as he stared at me.
His strength grew stronger. The god’s will grew stronger.
—Take it back!
The Golden Flame roared higher.
I absolutely could not lose. Back in the Blood-Red Sunset Dungeon, Freyr had said it, “I can’t forgive them.”
Now, with his eyes only inches from mine, I could see flames burning within them. It wasn’t simply anger. Or sadness. It was a fire made from all of those emotions, twisted together into something far more intense.
His fury toward Odin for using Freyja.
His fury toward the monsters that had attacked the gods.
And his fury toward Freyja for accepting her own death.
His love for his family had been transformed into an endless rage, burning within him.
“Ugh…!”
I planted my feet firmly on the stairs, shoulder-width apart.
The basics. The foundation I had built through countless hours of training supported my back and held my stance steady. Little by little, my short sword began to overpower Freyr’s sword.
“Guh…”
Freyr staggered and stepped backward.
Strength surged up from deep within my body.
The goddess’s flames.
The voices of my companions fighting on the snowy plain.
They kept the heat burning in my chest. The Golden Flame would never go out.
Freyr retreated another step. His sword began to tremble.
“I will never… again…!”
Freyr growled.
“I won’t… lose them again!!”
I could feel his magical power rising.
A chill ran down my spine.
I remembered how the monsters in the battle at the royal capital had fought with everything they had, burning through their very lives. Perhaps Freyr was doing the same. Perhaps he was prepared to sacrifice his own life, pouring every last drop of his magic into this battle.
“Why… why go this far?!”
Freyr answered.
“Because I’m just like you.”
His eyes burned.
“The kindest strongest one.”
Our blades screamed against each other.
I swung my short sword with all my strength.
The two weapons knocked each other away, forcing us apart.
Freyr shouted and charged. He stepped forward and swung his sword. I met him head-on, bringing my short sword across.
A faint groan escaped him. His body crumpled. He didn’t get back up.
Clatter… clatter…
His sword bounced and rolled down the grand staircase, the sound echoing through the silence. I activated the blessing of the God of the Hunting and searched for him.
No magical presence. Not even the faintest breath. Nothing.
Freyr lay on his side, eyes wide open.
He is dead.
He had probably suffered severe injuries in the Celestial Realm. Even if his physical wounds could be healed, the magic he had lost could never return. Just like Solana and the other gods in the Celestial Realm. And then, in his desperate attempt to reclaim the heart—or perhaps simply to defeat me—he had poured out every last bit of magical power he possessed.
“…You went that far…”
The words slipped from my lips.
In the snow, Brísingamen glimmered faintly. I picked it up and held it out near Freyr.
“You have to take good care of it…”
This man had sought strength. But when Freyja entrusted this divine artifact to him, perhaps it had carried the same wish she’d once made to Odin. A wish for him to change. Maybe that’s why Freyr awakened sooner than the other gods.
But Freyr…
Perhaps he simply couldn’t bear it. Just as I once had, he sought strength. Because without something to cling to, perhaps the weight of what he’d lost would have crushed him completely.
Freyr no longer moved. He had been like a blaze. A man who burned so fiercely that, in the end, he consumed even himself.
My eyes began to sting with tears.
“I’ll go now.”
On that cold day in the royal capital,
If Lu hadn’t been there…
Or if I had never met Solana…
Perhaps I would have ended up feeling the same way Freyr had. Hating weakness and yearning for strength were two sides of the same coin.
The Golden Flame surrounding my body flickered.
I wondered if the gods could feel Freyr’s death, too.
“I won’t forget you.”
There was danger in what I was about to do. But somehow, I felt it was the right thing.
I placed Brísingamen into Freyr’s hand and let him hold it for a moment. Then I gently closed his eyes, which had remained wide open.
I turned my back on Freyr. I started climbing the snow-shrouded staircase once more.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeneijiworks.com
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