The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 153

Chapter 153: Sincerity and Truth (3)

Fwaaaaaaaaaaaah—

White light surged towards the Grand Cross like a tidal wave, slowly getting sucked into Hybolt.

The remaining wounds on Hybolt vanished one by one, as if matching the beads of sweat forming on Caterina’s face.

“……His consciousness isn’t returning.”

She spoke while looking at Cain.

As a Saintess, she had saved countless lives. And while rare, there were times like this.

“It’s as if he’s dreaming, refusing to wake up.”

A bitter smile formed on her lips.

To live in a sweet dream, or to live in a reality where his wife, who had just returned to life, dies once more, and his own palace crumbles before his eyes.

Even she would choose the dream.

Nevertheless, the reality of having to forcefully awaken him was bitterly disappointing.

“Let me try.”

Caterina turned to Cain, who had come to her side, and spoke.

“I know you wield a mysterious power, but it’s not healing.”

“It’s not my specialty, no.”

“I’ll contact the Black Tower Master of the magic city, 〈Rill〉—.”

Bzzzt—

Cain raised his right hand.

Pure White Thunderbolt crackled from his hand, unleashing an earsplitting sound.

The moment Caterina saw it, her brows furrowed. She felt what Cain had felt just a moment ago.

“Holy power……?”

‘Winter’s’ Passive, Pure White Thunderbolt.

The dense holy power that the Saintess had shown just a moment ago.

Cain looked back and forth between his hand and the Saint.

‘This is the first time I’ve seen the Saintess’s holy power.’

He had seen plenty of other ‘light’ priests.

He had seen more than enough of the holy power used by the mechanized paladins who had fought alongside him at the Great Wall, burning themselves out.

‘It’s similar.’

Cain was only now beginning to realize.

He hadn’t noticed it before because the other priests’ holy power was too diluted, but he realized that if the Saintess’s holy power were compressed to its limits, it would be similar to his lightning.

Bzzzt—!

Cain stretched out his right hand, attempting to place it on top of Hybolt’s head.

Thwack—

The Saintess grabbed his wrist and questioned him.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of frying him with that?”

“He’s out of it, what else am I supposed to do?”

“Please refrain. I’ve barely managed to stabilize him, and you’ll probably fry all the nerves in the patient’s body.”

Caterina’s sharp blue eyes glared.

Cain’s violet eyes met hers, and he smiled lightly.

“I’ve tested it plenty.”

“No matter how similar it is to holy power, if you unleash it so destructively—.”

His right hand was caught, but he still had his left. Cain’s left hand went to Hybolt’s forehead.

‘Has anyone ever been shocked this many times?’

Cain briefly reminisced about the past, but no one in particular came to mind. They all fought tooth and nail to avoid getting shocked a second time after the first.

He realized just how insane Princess Olivia was to endure it for the sake of a joke.

[‘Winter’ whispers that it can shock that woman or Edmund five times stronger.]

Cain’s lips curled up at ‘Winter’s’ joke. He slowly called out to ‘Winter’, and…

Bzzzt—!

Unlike when the Saintess’s holy power had surged forth, the pure white light that erupted from Cain’s hand pushed away all darkness and evil.

Tremble—

Hybolt’s body, electrocuted from head to toe, trembled.

However, his eyes remained closed, indicating that it wasn’t enough.

Thump—

Cain pulled his right hand free from the Saintess’s grasp and placed it over Hybolt’s heart.

“If one hand isn’t enough, then two.”

Crackle—!

The Saintess turned her head.

As Cain’s spell-like declaration echoed, a thunderous roar, as if lightning had struck right before their eyes, filled the air.

At that moment, Hybolt opened his eyes.

He mumbled, his eyes wide with terror, as if he were about to faint again.

“S-Save…”

“Yes, I’m saving you.”

Cain continued to channel ‘Winter’s’ Passive, Pure White Thunderbolt, and Hybolt sputtered, frothing at the mouth.

“Please, stop…”

“Be good. Endure it.”

“How is this being good—!”

Thump—

Hybolt, having regained his senses, closed his eyes and hung his head.

The Saintess exclaimed in surprise and placed her hands over Hybolt.

“You’ll kill him at this rate!”

“He’s not dead.”

“……Yet!”

Cain reluctantly withdrew his hands, and the Saintess’s gentle holy power enveloped Hybolt.

The King had been revived.

“He seems to be losing consciousness again, should I shock him one more time—?”

“Stop it!”

The Saintess snapped back, and Cain shrugged and stepped back.

[‘Winter’ whispers that it can shock that woman or Edmund five times stronger.]

And he realized that ‘Winter’s’ afterthought was quite long.

🔹🔹🔹

━The strongest knight order personally summoned by the Saintess, the Order of Autumn’s Chief Paladin—!

Moliot’s voice boomed once again, filled with vigor.

And the Chief Paladin, his face an impassive mask.

━Rinaldoooooooo, Fasani!

Waaaaaaaaaaah—

Cheers erupted once more.

There were hardly any paladins in the Airian Kingdom. To be precise, there were a few who held the rank of paladin, but most were tied to the Mainus Cathedral.

Even though they were being pursued by the Empire’s 〈Order of Summer〉, they would be lucky to see a paladin from the 〈Order of Autumn〉, the strongest knight order on the continent, even once in their lifetime.

And the Chief Paladin of such an order was walking before them.

━And his opponent! The younger brother of Cain Ethelred, who achieved outstanding feats in capturing the Elf Queen, Glumiêm—!

Waaaaaaaaaaah—

━Abeeeeeel, Ethelred!

Abel emerged from the passage Isoel had walked through just moments ago.

As the darkness of the passage slowly receded, Abel stood there, clad in light leather armor and armed with a single shortsword.

Fwaaaaaaaaaaaah—

Just as Isoel had carried an eerie bloodlust like a heavy armor, Abel possessed an unusual aura.

The citizens of the kingdom, aware that he was Cain’s half-brother, cheered but gradually lowered their voices.

An air of sharpness that seemed to pierce the world.

The chilling sensation of resting a finger on a razor-sharp blade.

His brown hair, fluttering in the wind, seemed utterly ordinary, yet the aura emanating from Abel was far from ordinary.

And from the VIP seats, Oleciren, observing him, spoke.

“Since I’ve made a concession, it would be nice if you would return the favor.”

The nobles and Olivia turned their heads. She pointed to Abel, who was making his way up to the arena after the break.

“Instead of having one person fight one opponent, how about allowing consecutive matches if they win?”

A fight between a promising young man from a rural territory and a Chief Paladin recognized by the Holy See.

Olivia scoffed.

“And where is Sir Wayne?”

“Running an errand.”

“……What are you up to?”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed.

Oleciren was the one who desired this fight the most.

Naturally, Olivia had assumed she would put the royal knight commander, Wayne, against the Chief Paladin.

“Do you think I’d want to win safely in a 2-on-1 situation?”

Oleciren’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

The initial awkwardness and animosity towards Olivia had vanished, leaving only amusement in its wake.

Or rather, it was the look of a woman who held no interest in someone like Olivia.

She pointed at Abel, who stood still.

“That boy can do it.”

“You think he can defeat the Chief Paladin of the 〈Order of Autumn?”

“Of course.”

“And you believe he can defeat such a Chief Paladin and then fight our…… ‘Knight of the Bucket’?”

Unable to bring herself to call Edmund by his name, Olivia used the embarrassing nickname instead.

Oleciren shrugged.

“Naturally.”

“It’s strange that both of the important figures are suddenly absent, and I feel like something’s going on.”

Oleciren shrugged once more.

Then she leaned forward, gazing down at the windswept arena below.

“Just make a decision.”

“Considering the previous defeat and the fact that there’s no disadvantage to us, I accept.”

As the words left her mouth, Rinaldo, the Paladin, examined Abel.

“How old are you?”

“I turned fifteen this year.”

“……Hmm.”

For someone who rarely expressed emotion, such a sigh was quite a strong reaction.

Fifteen years old. No matter how talented, it was an age where even becoming the youngest knight in a knight order was a stretch, let alone anything more.

It wasn’t a matter of pointless rules.

It was simply that the wall one had to overcome to join his 〈Order of Autumn〉 was far too high.

“To think that there would be such a genius in this remote area.”

Shing.

Rinaldo drew his sword.

Since becoming a Paladin, he had cut down countless enemies. Such battles had etched experience and instinct into his very being.

And that instinct whispered to him.

The boy before him was no ordinary opponent.

Shing—

Abel drew his word as well.

They both stepped back, facing each other from a distance of ten paces.

And at that moment.

━The second match will now begin!

Baron Moliot’s clear voice resonated throughout the arena.

Waaaaaaah!

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, their anticipation reaching fever pitch at the sight of the world’s strongest knight order’s Chief Paladin crossing blades with the young hero of this war.

However.

Fwoosh—

Neither of them moved.

Despite the wind whistling between them and the deafening cheers that threatened to engulf them, the two remained motionless, their gazes locked.

Slowly, silence descended.

“What’s going on……?”

Olivia tilted her head in confusion.

The two, who had seemed ready to clash at any moment, simply stared at each other for an unusually long time. Having witnessed only the flashy battles of the Northern Expedition, she found it difficult to comprehend.

Then, Marquis McLoud, seated beside her, spoke up.

“It’s not that they’re not moving, but rather, they can’t.”

“They can’t?”

“Because there are no openings in either of their stances.”

“……!”

“Right now, they may appear still, but they are intensely analyzing each other. It’s likely that they’ve already killed each other hundreds of times over in their minds.”

These were not knights who would simply charge in with swords drawn, but true knights who tempered themselves, walking the path of the blade.

Both of them.

“Incredible.”

Rinaldo lowered his sword and spoke. Abel followed suit, sheathing his own blade as he replied.

“I hadn’t realized how extraordinary a Paladin truly is. I’ve learned much.”

“Who taught you the way of the sword?”

For a moment, Abel looked up at the sky.

━Your talent is unparalleled in the continent.

The image of Cain, who had always believed in him unconditionally, flickered in the azure sky.

“I’ve learned from many, but it was my brother who showed me the way.”

“The one who is being called the new Sword Master, Cain Ethelred?”

“Yes.”

Rinaldo nodded slowly.

“At first, I thought it was just a rumor exaggerated in the backwater. A Sword Master at seventeen. But now I can believe it.”

Step—

Rinaldo took a step back with his left foot.

Click.

And he sheathed his sword.

Poised to strike at any moment.

And with a speed that, combined with his stance, seemed capable of cleaving an opponent in two!

Rinaldo was an arrow nocked and ready to fly.

Abel bent his knees, lowering his center of gravity. He gripped his shortsword tightly, holding it horizontally at chest level.

Fwoosh—

A gust of wind swept through the arena.

“This ends in one strike.”

Everyone who witnessed their confrontation knew it instinctively.

This single exchange would decide the outcome of their battle.

Thud—

Rinaldo’s foot touched the ground, and his figure seemed to stretch, like a rubber band pulled taut.

Cascata di Luce.

Fwaaaaaaaaaaaah—

A brilliant aura, radiating light, erupted from Rinaldo’s sword. It was a dazzling spectacle that could be mistaken for a Sword Master’s from afar.

A cascade of light, its sheer presence carrying a weight that pressed down on both body and mind!

Abel’s eyes remained steady, focused on the very heart of that cascade.

And against that single, overwhelming trajectory.

Ardvark.

Lu Rabada.

The golden shortsword cleaved through the cascade of light.

Translator’s Blog

Blog

• Yo, Millennials: This TikTok Dictionary Translates Gen Z So You Don’t Sound Like a Boomer
• The “I’m So Deep in This Light Novel I’m Living It” Blues: When Your Waifu Gets NTR’d and You’re Not Even Mad (But Kind of Are)
• If I Got Isekai’ed 101: Your Guide to Surviving Another World (And Maybe Even Becoming a Harem Protagonist)
• My Brain on UFC: Why I’m Convinced I Could Totally Take on Adesanya (I’m Lying, Don’t Tell Dana)
• Kakashi and Obito: Bro-mance or True Love? Unraveling the Mystery of Naruto’s Most Epic Duo