Ads

The Paper User: Exiled for a ‘Trash Skill,’ Awakens True Power and Rises with Two Unique Skills ,Volume 2 - Chapter 47

on

Chapter: Fierce Battle

“…So. You mean to fight me alone as well?”

Zeldia’s question earned only a smile from Sylphiel.

“I could. But I think it’s better if we all share the credit.”

Asrom darted in from the flank. Sylphiel matched his movement, rushing forward.

“Meteor Rain!”

Her arms blurred as the twin blades of King of Light thrust in rapid succession.

Zeldia’s lips moved faintly, and a translucent barrier shimmered into being, catching the flurry of strikes.

“My turn’s not over yet!”

Asrom’s Seven-Colored Sword carved down at an angle. Zeldia lifted his left hand, the blood-red jewel in his wrist bracing against the blow.

“Not done yet!”

Asrom pressed harder, unleashing strike after strike. Sylphiel mirrored him from the opposite side, their combined assault hammering down.

Zeldia parried all of it—barriers flashing, gemstones sparking.

“Die, Zeldia!”

One of the Divine Tree Brigade’s warriors charged headlong. Zeldia sidestepped smoothly, raised his hand, and unleashed a lance of violet light.

“Gahhh—!”

The man collapsed, his chest seared through.

“Don’t approach him! Leave Zeldia to Sylphiel and me!”

Asrom’s shout rallied the others as he closed the distance again.

Then—

“Blessing of the Time God!”

Asrom’s form blinked out, reappearing meters ahead in an instant. Zeldia’s reaction lagged for a heartbeat.

The Seven-Colored Sword arced up—slicing clean through Zeldia’s left wrist.

“…Hmph.”

Zeldia instantly flared barriers on all sides, catching the follow-up strike.

“…Impressive. To think you wield such techniques.”

The severed hand floated back up, reattaching seamlessly. Adventurers paled at the sight.

“Very well. You’ve shown me your strength. It seems I must get serious.”

At his incantation, a sword took shape in the air—its grip of raw flesh studded with a staring eye, its blade etched with runes, pulsing like veins alive with blood.

“A living sword,” Asrom muttered.

“Oh? You recognize it?”

“It’s infamous. Too many of our kind have fallen to that cursed blade.”

“Then perhaps you’ll know this as well.”

Zeldia conjured a violet crystal sphere and hurled it. Smoke burst forth, disgorging ten armored skeletons, each clad in golden plate and bearing gleaming swords.

“These are no ordinary skeletons,” Zeldia declared with a cold grin. “They are Skeleton Warriors, crafted from special bones—those of your own S-rank adventurers. Strength begets strength. Add enchanted armor and weapons, and even you lesser ones may taste despair.”

“Bones of S-rank adventurers…?”

“Yes. And now, they’ll grind you to dust. Kill them all!”

Click, clack, clack…

The Skeleton Warriors rattled their jaws and surged forward. Golden swords bit into steel, adventurer blood painting the grass red.

“They’re… they’re too strong!”

A Holy Sword Brigade member’s face twisted in fear.

“Don’t falter!”

Douglas, the heavy warrior, roared.

“We outnumber them! Join forces with the other brigades!”

“Oooohhh!”

Battle cries answered him as adventurers rallied against the undead tide.

“Now, let us begin as well.”

Zeldia’s claws extended, scarlet light gleaming along their twenty-centimeter length.

“Worry not. Your corpses will be put to excellent use.”

The barriers dissolved, and Zeldia lunged at Asrom. At the same instant, the living sword shrieked forward like an arrow toward Sylphiel.

“So the sword is mine, then.”

Her King of Light met it with a ringing clash, swatting the weapon skyward. Yet it spun back like a boomerang, slashing again and again with the precision of an invisible swordsman.

Steel shrieked as Sylphiel’s silver hair was sliced at the tips.

“Fighting a sword alone is troublesome…”

She frowned, thrusting forward. The blade twisted aside, slipping to her rear in a ghostly feint.

Sylphiel clicked her tongue as the cursed weapon drifted with eerie will.

I won’t lose to a mere sword, but breaking it will take time… too much time. And if I drag this out, Asrom will be the one in danger.

Her eyes flicked to Asrom, already bleeding under Zeldia’s assault. 


Comments

Post a Comment