The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 71.2

Chapter 71.2: On a Spring Day (3)

Bang—

A sound as small as the flap of a bird’s wings.

But Abel’s good ears reacted to the explosive sound that would never be heard in the grasslands.

His eyes scan the meadows.

His combat instincts, which are only displayed in life-or-death battles, kick in.

At that moment.

Cain, who was running toward the village, saw a gentle hill and swamp, and sensed an arrow flying with air pressure.

“Bomb—!”

Abel shouted.

Wheeik.

Before Oleciren could react, Isoel hugged her from behind, facing the direction that Abel was looking at.

To block the explosion with her body if it was a bomb!

At the same time, she summoned the gravity hammer, Credne, and hid behind it.

And Count Garick moved too.

Squeeze—

His bones were still not fully recovered, but for the sake of his son, who had gone through many battles,

He instinctively hugged him tightly, even if his own life was torn apart by the bomb, so that only his son would live.

‘Brother.’

Abel looked at Cain, who appeared on the hill where the bomb had been fired. It was quite a distance, but Cain’s black hair and purple eyes stood out.

And he could see the white lightning bolts slowly flashing around Cain.

Grit—

Abel clenched his teeth.

While planning for Rude and Garick, Oleciren’s words to Cain came to mind.

━Why do you always have to be the bad guy?

Then he remembered Cain’s miraculous victories.

His fight with himself.

The Trial of Arthuan.

The Battle of Count Lamaring’s Castle.

The Siege of Ironheart.

Arna, who had witnessed all of this, called Abel over and told him.

━There’s no such thing as a free lunch for miracles. Maybe Cain-nim is sacrificing something of his own. Usually lifespan or the future.

Why does Cain have to sacrifice?

Why does Cain have to live as a villain?

At least for Abel, Cain was hope and light, so he couldn’t just stand by and watch him burn himself to protect himself.

Creeeaaak—

Abel clenched his teeth so hard that his molars seemed to crumble. He grabbed the sword at his waist and stared at the arrows that were flying at them with tremendous speed.

━Will I ever be able to beat you, brother?

Cain had asserted to his question.

━When a new spring comes.

The seasons have not yet cycled.

Spring was not new.

But at this moment, Abel had to go beyond Cain’s guarantee, and he needed the strength to break down the unreasonable structure in which only Cain sacrificed!

Thump—

The world slows down.

The colors disappear, and a vision unfolds in which only black and white slowly remain and are distinguished.

And Abel began to erase everything.

Oleciren and Isoel.

Garick and Rude.

Wind, earth, petals, sunlight.

Leaving only two.

Cain in the distance and the arrows rushing in!

Thump, thump.

Abel’s senses fiercely break through their limits. His mind anticipates every possible situation and calculates the possibilities.

A combat instinct close to foresight opened his eyes, and

Bam—!

Abel kicked the ground.

Wherever his toes touched, it dented as if it had been struck by a giant hammer. That’s how Abel’s speed reached Cain’s toes.

Ardvark.

Lu Rabada.

A silver light, faster and harder than any trajectory he had ever seen, shot out from Abel’s right hand.

Puck.

Like throwing a dagger from 100 meters away and hitting an apple.

Abel thrust his sword into the very center of the fist-sized bomb.

Hwaaaaaaaaaaaaah—!

But it was a mistake!

Abel, lacking in experience, did not know that the ‘Mouton 2’ bomb was impact-reactive.

If he wanted to live, he had to throw it away.

The bomb pierced by the sword wriggles and is about to explode right in front of him.

Thump, thump, thump—

Abel’s heart was about to burst, watching it and realizing the situation.

In the midst of the threat to his life and the feelings for Cain, his combat instincts go beyond their limits!

The trajectory of the defensive swordsmanship, Fergna, which Lamaring’s knight, Victor Millington, showed, is drawn horizontally, and Vanderbilt’s slashing that seems to split the rock, Lo Myer, rises vertically.

Hwaaaaaaaaaaaaanng—

His face gets hot.

His eyes were burning away.

‘Hold on! It’s nothing compared to what my brother sacrificed!’

But Abel kept his eyes peeled and pictured the most extreme form that the vertical trajectory could reach.

Not a sword that continues to his head, but a sword drawn by his instincts.

If there was such a word as invincible in the world, the strongest sword would be placed to the left of it.

‘God, have mercy on us.’

Abel-style Bright Light.

Cross Strike.

Kyrie Eleison.

Whoo whoo whoo whoo—

The expansive explosion of the Mouton series converges on the horizontal trajectory of Abel’s sword, which is being cut horizontally.

Woo woo woo woo—!

The subsequent vertical slash broke the horizontal trajectory and drew a cross.

Kwagaagagagagagagagagak—!

An earth-shattering explosion followed.

“……Huh?”

Oleciren, at the strangely spreading roar, poked her head out of Isoel’s arms and looked beyond Credne.

The red explosion that should have burned them was spreading out, divided into quarters by a cross.

In front of it was Abel, a brown-haired boy, clutching a red-hot sword.

Abel seemed awkward that he had cut the explosion and even spread out the hand that had been holding the sword, looking at it alternately.

“Well done.”

He turned around to see Cain running up to him.

Thud.

Abel collapsed to his knees with a strange feeling of all his strength draining from his body.

He couldn’t even lift his head, so he propped himself up on his elbows and gasped for air.

Cain stroked Abel’s head.

It was a long time before Abel could catch his breath and speak.

“Did I meet your expectations, brother?”

On the roof of a train speeding towards Ironheart, where Crowl Castle is located, without a break.

━I will not just stand behind you and suck your blood, but I will stand in front of you and protect you, brother.

━I look forward to it.

Abel had vowed.

“Yes.”

And today, he had somewhat fulfilled the expectations of that day.

“You did really well.”

“That’s a…… relief.”

Flop.

Abel fainted on the spot, and Cain chuckled and adjusted his posture.

“To think he’s actually stepping into the path of a Sword Master at the tender age of fifteen.”

Cutting through an explosion ultimately means counteracting an intangible force with equal force.

It means going beyond the clash of swords and putting your beliefs into the sword, and it’s the first step towards the supreme realm of Sword Master.

“Besides, I didn’t know you’d imitate my sword.”

He had imitated the ‘Bright Light’, a swordsmanship that the ‘Lord East’ of the Great Wall had created and passed down through the generations, just by watching it a few times.

Cain could say without a doubt that there was no one in the history of the continent who was as gifted with a sword as Abel. And he looked at the others.

Isoel had somehow turned her hammer back into an earring, and Oleciren was brushing the dirt off her legs.

“Why…….”

Rude cautiously asked, facing Count Garick, who was holding him tight, at arm’s length.

Why did he try to protect himself from the explosion first?

“You’re my son.”

Count Garick grinned.

However, he winced as the pain shot up from moving violently with his body not yet fully healed.

Rude was startled and grabbed Count Garick and said.

“Lord Count!”

Count Garick looked at Rude.

“May I finish what I was about to say earlier?”

“That’s not important right now. If you’re hurt anywhere—”

Count Garick cut off Rude’s rush to finish his sentence.

“Call me Father.”

“…….”

Rude had been calling Garick Lord Count.

It seemed to have been on his mind. But when Rude hesitated, Count Garick looked up at the sky.

“If it’s still difficult, get used to it little by little—”

“Father, are you hurt anywhere?”

This time it was Rude who cut him off.

Count Garick smiled brightly and shook his head as if to say he was fine.

Oleciren and Cain smiled at the sight. Oleciren approached Cain and asked.

“I guess it worked?”

“I didn’t intend for it to, but I guess so.”

“And this one?”

Oleciren looked at the unconscious Abel, and Cain gave a wry smile.

“He’s succeeded too much.”

It was a spring day before the prelude to the Northern War was played.

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