Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Deioden’s eyes widened in surprise.

Crayon had occasionally revealed himself, but he had never been this clear before.

Until now, he had only been blurred like a faded photograph, but now he was perfectly reproducing his appearance from life.

“Is it because you absorbed Akaruk’s sword?”

―That is right! But in exchange......

“In exchange?”

―My durability has dropped greatly.

“Because you pushed yourself too far?”

―Rather than that, you should say that the time granted to me is almost at its end. I transplanted my soul into a sword, even while violating the laws of nature.

“Mm!”

―My friend! We do not have much time left. Now we truly have to see the end.

“I know.”

Deioden nodded.

The fact that not much time remained was not only Crayon’s problem.

He too felt that his own time was nearly at its end.

He was over one hundred thirty years old.

If he had been an ordinary human, he would have long since returned to the earth.

He had survived until now only because he was an Awakened. In truth, his insides had already rotted as far as they could rot.

His battles against countless enemies had made him strong, but at the same time, they had steadily inflicted damage on him from within.

Yet Deioden had not regretted his life even once.

He had lived with only revenge in mind, and he had walked a path befitting that.

Thanks to that, he had become strong enough to prepare for a decisive battle with a dragon.

“Haieltun isn’t far away. Maybe the bastard is watching even now.”

―They are a cunning breed, so that is entirely possible.

“We have to move before he prepares.”

―Speed is life, then.

“That’s right!”

―The end truly isn’t far now.

Crayon’s eyes, as he spoke of the “end,” turned toward Zeon.

Even now, Zeon had his eyes closed and was immersed in his own world.

―Meeting that child was fortune. Thanks to that child, we could cross the barrier and come all the way here.

“He’s a fairly useful cripple.”

―Your venomous tongue is unchanged. He is not that much of a brat.

“Once a cripple, always a cripple. Just like me.”

―Are you still blaming yourself? What happened to me was not your fault.

“It was all my fault. If I’d been strong, my wife and daughter wouldn’t have died, and your soul wouldn’t have been sealed inside a sword.”

Deioden’s face was filled with regret.

A hundred years had passed since the incident, but his memories were as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

His wife and daughter, excited by the long-awaited trip.

His old friend, who had been her older brother and his daughter’s maternal uncle.

New York, the city his wife and daughter had wanted so badly to visit.

The Statue of Liberty, Central Park, Broadway, Times Square.

They had seen and enjoyed everything they had always wanted to see.

He could not have been happier than when he saw his wife and daughter smiling.

The joy of sharing a glass of beer with his one and only friend. Back then, it had felt as though he possessed the whole world.

But their happiness did not last long.

A gigantic dragon tore through the sky above Manhattan and appeared.

The creature had only lightly revealed its presence, but New York was turned into a wasteland, and more than half its population lost their lives.

His wife and daughter had lost their lives then as well.

He still had not forgotten the sight of his wife and daughter dying horribly before his eyes.

His one and only friend, Crayon, had also suffered a fatal wound and was dying.

Just before his breath stopped, Crayon awakened. Even so, he could not save his own life.

Crayon used his ability to seal his soul inside Deioden’s sword.

That was how Crayon had placed himself inside the sword and managed to survive until now.

If Crayon had not been there, Deioden might have been unable to forgive himself and taken his own life long ago.

Conversely, Crayon too had relied on Deioden to continue his hellish life.

But now, the end was not far away.

The lives of the old man and the sword had now reached their limits, and their end was visible, clear enough to grasp.

“Before I die, I should at least take one dragon with me on the road to the afterlife. That way, I won’t be ashamed when I see them in the next world.”

Haieltun was not the original culprit behind this situation. But that did not mean he was free from responsibility.

After all, he was one of the original culprits who had instigated Crasias to Terraform Earth.

That was when it happened.

Sssshhh!

The sand floating around Zeon began clumping together with a strange sound.

Crayon said,

―It seems he has realized a new Skill.

Countless sand spheres formed around Zeon.

The sand spheres revolved around Zeon like satellites.

TATATATANG!

The sand spheres that had been revolving shot out at terrifying speed, as if a trigger had been pulled.

Coin-sized holes punched through the sandstone wall, and it collapsed.

It was as if a claymore had exploded.

That was why the name of the new Skill was Claymore.

He made sand clump together as hard as steel balls, then detonated it like a claymore.

If he limited its range to the front, its explosive power doubled, making it a powerful interpersonal Skill. If he spread it wide, its explosive power weakened, but it became an area Skill.

It was a Skill that suited the name Claymore.

It was not perfect yet, but for now, he had grasped the concept.

There was plenty of room to develop it further, and if he used it well, he felt he could sink most Awakened with a single blow.

Zeon opened his eyes and rose from his seat.

By then, Crayon had already hidden himself.

Zeon asked Deioden,

“So, does it look usable?”

“It is still far from enough.”

“Tch!”

“Still, you did a little well.”

“Ooh! What’s gotten into you? This feels wrong. Just call me a cripple.”

“You are making a fuss. Just because I praised you a little does not mean you are no longer a cripple.”

“That’s better. Heh-heh!”

Zeon smiled faintly.

---

The two stayed in the Valley of Death for a while.

During that time, Zeon polished the Skill he had newly realized, while Deioden also spent his time in meditation.

Though Deioden did not say it aloud, Zeon knew he was preparing for the final battle.

Zeon spent time alone without disturbing Deioden.

TATATATANG!

Coin-sized holes punched through the sandstone.

They were the marks left by Claymore.

He could now use the new Skill quite naturally.

Each time he used the Skill, a lump of mana vanished, but there was nothing he could do about that.

It was only natural that the more powerful a Skill was, the more mana it consumed.

After becoming Grade C, the amount of mana he had increased greatly, but it was still not enough.

At least he was fortunate to have Elura’s Tear.

Without Elura’s Tear, he would not have been able to fight properly because he would have been calculating the amount of mana he had left every time he used a Skill.

It was when Zeon was about to use Claymore once again.

“Grrgh!”

Suddenly, he felt terrifying killing intent and tremendous pressure.

Startled, he looked back and saw Deioden standing there before he knew it.

“Deioden?”

“You have become somewhat usable now.”

“What?”

“But you are still far from enough. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“At that level, you will be of no help.”

“So?”

“You have to become stronger.”

“How?”

Zeon wore a puzzled expression.

Zeon had run forward so busily that he could hardly breathe.

Among all the Awakened who had appeared on Earth, Zeon was probably the only one whose grade had risen this quickly.

While following Deioden, he had not let down his guard or rested for even a single moment.

Thanks to that, he had been able to become Grade C. But even that did not satisfy Deioden.

Deioden took out Crayon and said,

“Survive.”

“What?”

“Survive under my hand. If you do, you will become stronger than you are now.”

“What? Insane!”

Only then did Zeon realize the meaning contained in Deioden’s words.

SHAAAK!

Deioden swung Crayon.

At that instant, tremendous wind pressure swept over Zeon.

Without any need to think further, Zeon instinctively created a sand barrier.

CRACK!

But a sand barrier could not block even one of Deioden’s strikes.

The solid sand barrier burst apart in an instant, revealing Zeon. Toward that Zeon, Deioden swung Crayon.

“Damn it!”

Zeon hurriedly retreated with Sand Walk.

Deioden ran toward him.

A tremendous pressure and killing intent, unlike anything Zeon had ever felt from any monster, bore down on him.

Deioden’s gaze and killing intent made his whole body feel as if it were shriveling.

SHAAAK!

Crayon came ripping toward Zeon once more.

Even a graze would cause a serious injury, and if it landed properly, death was guaranteed.

It was an attack without the slightest mercy.

Zeon also had to struggle to survive.

“Haaah! Claymore.”

Zeon used the Skill he had newly realized.

The sand clumped into spheres, and countless spheres became bullets that flew toward Deioden.

TATATATANG!

But every sand sphere was blocked by the enormous Crayon and fell in a shower.

“Damn it!”

He had prided himself on Claymore being a fairly perfect interpersonal attack Skill. He had never imagined it would collapse this easily.

Even if his opponent was Deioden, he had thought he could at least make him slightly flustered, but it seemed he had underestimated him after all.

If not, then he had overestimated himself.

Perhaps it was both.

CRACK!

A gigantic piece of sandstone split in two under Deioden’s sword strike.

Even though he had not used any swordsmanship Skill at all.

Zeon felt goosebumps rise all over his body.

He knew Deioden was more than a monster, but actually fighting him, he exceeded imagination.

Each simple strike possessed power greater than the Skills of most Awakened.

It was not that he did not use Skills because he lacked them. He did not use them because he had no need to.

Zeon resisted Deioden with all his strength.

Sand Blaster, Sand Missile, and even Claymore. He used every interpersonal Skill he had.

But none of his Skills inflicted any meaningful damage on Deioden.

Deioden asked,

“Is that all you have?”

SHAAK!

Crayon flew in as if to split his body in one stroke.

Zeon avoided Deioden’s attack by a hair’s breadth.

A chill ran down his spine.

That was because he could feel the tremendous power contained in Crayon.

Deioden was serious.

He thought Zeon’s growth was lacking, and he intended to forcibly drag him up to the level he wanted.

He was facing Zeon seriously.

If Zeon failed to reach the level he wanted, he would die.

Deioden was a man who did what he said he would do.

Goosebumps rose all over Zeon’s body.

He drew up his fighting spirit.

He knew he was still nowhere near a level where he could dare compete with Deioden. But that did not mean he had any intention of sitting still and taking Deioden’s sword.

Endure somehow, find a way, and attack.

That was the secret of survival he had learned while following Deioden.

He raised his sand control and shouted loudly,

“Fine! Let’s do this, you dogshit old man!”

“Come at me, cripple.”