Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume 26 - Chapter 1.1

"I started walking and, as luck would have it, I managed a steady pace the rest of my life. Our manner and time of death isn't written in the stars, but neither is our good fortune predestined. Your life is yours." 

-I worked hard, lived it up, and died happy. Couldn't ask for more.

AUTHOR: RUDEUS GREYRAT

TRANSLATION: JEAN RF MAGOTT

Chapter 1:

The Threat of the Fighting God

Sandor 

MY NAME IS Alex Kalman Rybak. I am the son of North God Kalman by blood, heir to his arts and his name. North God Kalman I… Well, we don’t use the numeral when we talk about him; we just call him North God Kalman, but regardless, North God Kalman I was my father. As North God Kalman II, I traveled the world on a quest to become a true hero to bring glory to the name of Kalman. I defeated dragons and a gargantuan behemoth, an evil priest who’d seized control of a nation and a giant man-eating monkey that haunted the hinterlands of the central continent, as well as a foolish tyrant and the guardian of a labyrinth that had wiped out many of the clans of the central continent… With the world’s strongest magic sword, the physical toughness I inherited from my mother, and the ultimate sword-fighting ­techniques developed by my father, I destroyed everyone who stood against me. I gained the title and reputation of the strongest swordsman around. That won me the people’s gratitude and their highest esteem. Thanks to my immortal demon blood, I retained my vigor and was able to continue as a hero even though long years went by. I felt elated. As far as I was concerned, I was invincible. I went on, crushing all my opponents, drunk on my own power. 

One moment stood out. A moment that convinced me that I really was a hero.

One day on the road, a young boy, not yet of age, stole my magic sword. He took it to a backstreet tavern full of washed-up nobodies. Their leader, a student of Sword God Style, picked up the sword—he was a Sword Saint. Usually, I would’ve wiped the floor with a Sword Saint. I could have taken him with my bare hands.

…You wouldn’t believe how that fight went. The fearsome power of the magic sword elevated the abilities of that washed-up nobody to those of a Sword Emperor—perhaps even greater. It didn’t matter that it was the first time he’d ever picked it up. I barely managed to defeat him, but the experience left me deeply shaken. It also left me with a question.

Am I truly strong?

While I stood there, consumed by shock after the ­battle, that nobody swordsman said, “It’s all your fault these parts are such a mess.” That jogged my memory. I was in that country. The one where I’d defeated the evil priest who’d seized power and the foolish despot. The priest had been evil, but it was religion that’d kept this nation stable. The king had been a tyrant, but his iron rule had preserved national unity. 

Things were different now. Now, these lands were known as the Conflict Zone. Once one great nation, it was now divided into a multitude of smaller countries all fighting amongst themselves. As one fell, another was born in an endless cycle. All were bogged down in a war in which not even the victors were spared. Larger ­nations went on preying upon them; people went on dying. And it was my fault. I’d decided their ruler was evil and ­defeated him without ever bothering to consider what anyone else thought about it. My actions had robbed these people of their peace. Acknowledging this, I was left with another question. 

Am I really a hero? 

For some time, I carried these questions with me. I put down the magic sword, and I gave up being a hero.

In other words, the answer I arrived at for both questions was “No.”

Don’t get the wrong idea. I love heroes. I love listening to all those glorious heroic epics. I still find myself wishing I could be like them, even now. Alas, I didn’t have a talent for heroism, but I still liked to think maybe, with just a little luck, when the right moment came… I’m sure you understand. You know that people aren’t simple like that. What I did when I gave up heroism was I stopped straining to force myself into the hero mold. After contemplating it, I traded out my sword for a staff and focused my efforts on training others. I chose the staff because I thought it was the best of all weapons. It’s simple, and you can find a staff like this one anywhere, so it doesn’t matter if it gets stolen, and it’s only as good a weapon as you are a fighter. From a tactical perspective, there’s also an advantage to a weapon that’s a little longer than a sword. Honestly, though, anything would have done so long as it wasn’t a magic sword.

As for why I wanted to train other people, I think a lot of that might have come from…how to put it…a desire to atone for my sins? It seemed to me that I’d been horribly contemptuous of the people around me. That makes it sound like I thought of them as expendable, but it was more that I divided the world into the main character (me) and the supporting characters (everyone else). I deluded myself that I was the protagonist, which was why I found it so easy to call people evil and pass judgment on them without a thought for the consequences. It’s mortifying to recall. Everyone is the protagonist in their own life, everyone has their own desires—just like me. Because I admired heroes so much, my deeds seemed righteous, but the truth wasn’t so grandiose. I was no different from the rulers I’d struck down. My dream of becoming a hero was, in short, mere ambition. It was when I realized that that I started to think maybe it would be better to be a supporting character in a true hero’s story rather than a hero in my own right. That was how it was with my father, North God Kalman. Yes, he fought alongside Dragon God Urupen and Armored Dragon King Perugius as one of the Three Godslayers, but if you think of it like a story, he wasn’t the protagonist. He’d always be the protagonist in my eyes, of course—to me, he was a hero through and through. But my perspective wasn’t the only one.

Point being, that was why I tried putting myself in the same position as him. Though I must admit, I also thought being a mentor to a hero sounded pretty smooth…

Taking on all those students turned out to be unexpectedly interesting. It gave me a glimpse into how much more there was to North God style. Things I’d never realized. Some warriors were born with physical disadvantages—some had lost their arms, some were blind since birth—but they all devised their own workarounds, carving out their own ways to win. The North God style that I had learned was what my father taught my mother. Immortal demons’ sword fighting relies on brute force, employing their immortality as much as ­possible, so that’s what I thought North God style was all about. But really, North God style was created so that those without strength or who had lost something could still survive on the battlefield. It was taking on all those students that taught me that. Aside from that, things I’d only thought I’d understood came into real focus one after another, my perspective broadened, and I won the respect of many. That respect was a little mellower than what I’d experienced when I was being held up as a hero, but for some reason, it made me happier. At the same time, though I only came to use it by avoiding anything like a magic sword, I grew proud of my staff, my choice of weapon. I’d realized that I’d become steadfast in living my father’s philosophy. The thought, I recall, brought tears to my eyes. After that, I became less interested in doing heroic deeds myself.

All sorts of things happened after that, until I ended up in the service of Queen Ariel. In her, I saw that same quality I’d seen in Hero King Gauniss. My assessment wasn’t wrong. I entered Ariel’s service, then before I knew it she had assembled a group of remarkable advisors and laid a rock-solid foundation for the governance of Asura. Despite this team she had assembled, Ariel didn’t start any wars. Instead, she set about making policies to increase national prosperity. She invested a particularly large amount in magical technology and appointed young people to her ministries. When I asked her why was doing so much, even to the point that she faced ­opposition, her answer surprised me. She told me she was doing what she could in her lifetime to oppose Laplace when he was resurrected some decades hence. 

Marvelous! What a great ruler! Truly, I could not have chosen a better master!

Or so I thought. Only then I poked around some more myself and noticed the shady character scurrying around in Ariel’s shadow. That somebody was Rudeus Greyrat. It didn’t take me long to work out that he was a follower of the Dragon God—Ariel was happy to tell me the whole story. She said that Dragon God Orsted was supporting her. 

I’d heard of Dragon God Orsted’s unsavory reputation. One person said he’d stabbed an ally of theirs through the heart without warning. Another said he’d suddenly pushed them off a cliff. Another, that he’d snatched the prize they were after out from under their nose. Yet another, that he’d stolen a magic item they’d just gotten their hands on. I don’t usually pay much heed to reports from onlookers, but every story I chanced upon repeated his misdeeds.

I have had the privilege of being in the presence of the individual in question on one occasion… Just one look at him struck fear into my heart. The Dragon God and the North God are sworn allies, and the bond of friendship between North God Kalman and Dragon God Urupen will never be broken. It was unthinkable that I should feel fear towards the man who bore the name of Dragon God, even as I was grateful to him. On the contrary, I wanted to nurture a friendship with this generation’s Dragon God. Yet I felt fear. 

I speculated that perhaps it was a curse—a curse that made everyone who saw him fear him… It wasn’t until later that I learned I was right, but that is a story for another time. Because of that heavy curse, this was the first time I’d encountered anyone serving him. This Rudeus Greyrat… You want to know my first impression of him? Well, all right. I thought he looked weak. There was cleverness in him too, but it was more base cunning than intelligence. He seemed trivial. After what Queen Ariel and Ghislaine had told me, I’d expected someone impressive, but in person, he was fully mundane.

Despite that, he didn’t strike me as the type of weasel you’ll often find toadying up to great warriors or people in power. The contrast between the man and the esteem he inspired intrigued me, and I wondered if he might actually turn out to be hero material. As such, when Queen Ariel sent me to be his backup, I eagerly accepted the task. 

Then I took part in a thrilling battle, one that featured the Abyssal King, the Ogre God, the Sword God, and my own son, North God Kalman III. It began with schemes smoldering, then exploding into open conflict… It was just like one of the battles from when I’d been trying to be a hero. Indeed, you’d be hard-pressed to find a fiery battle like that one in the modern day. It was on the level of the battles I’d fought in the past.

Little did I know there was far more to it than even that.

Enter the Fighting God. The ultimate being who, long, long before the Laplace War, had ended the Second Great Human-Demon War. I’d never imagined that he’d turn out to be Uncle Badigadi, but thinking about it, it wasn’t out of character. That musclehead was always acting like there was more to him than met the eye. My mother used to say, “Badi puts on a smart guy act but he’s really a moron.” Isn’t it the opposite? I’d thought. Isn’t he putting on a moron act? Don’t people think you’re an idiot because you get this sort of thing backward? But now that we’d come to this juncture, I sort of got where she was coming from. A moron pretending to be clever—yes. That was fair.

In any case, back to Fighting God Badigadi. If the legends were true, he was the ultimate being, wreaking havoc during the Second Great Human-Demon War and entrenching his position as Number Three of the Seven Great Powers. 

Facing him down, I thought, I really never did have what it took to be a hero.

You see, no legendary being like him had ever made an appearance in my tale. There’d been challenging ­opponents, of course, and others whose strength had impressed me. I’d held them in esteem. But after I picked up the magic sword, I’d never found another opponent who outclassed me. It wasn’t until I’d set down the sword, my name, and my title, not until I’d given up on being the protagonist of my own story and committed myself to someone else’s fight as a side character, that a ­legendary opponent finally appeared. Maybe Rudeus Greyrat was hero material. He probably wouldn’t like me saying it, but that’s what it’s like for heroes. They encounter the enemies they’re meant to defeat.

And I encountered ones destined to defeat me.

“Things never turn out how you’d like…” I muttered. In my hands now wasn’t a magic sword, but an unremarkable staff. You couldn’t ask for a weapon more unfit for going toe to toe with the Fighting God. It wouldn’t even make a good scene for the heroic epic that would be ­written later.

“Fwahahaha! Such is the nature of life and death!”

“That doesn’t carry much weight, coming from you.”

“Fie! Nothing in my life has turned out as I would have liked it!”

“Is that right? Please, do tell me. I’m riveted.” Back when I’d been trying to be a hero, I hadn’t gone in for banter like this. I’d become a side character. Even when their goal is simply to buy time, a legendary warrior strives for it as best they can. Badigadi was the Wise Demon King. Contrary to his appearance, he was very learned, and he liked to impart his knowledge to people. Saying I was interested should be enough to get him talking.

Alas, it wasn’t to be. The monkey-faced demon at his side interrupted our conversation.

“We ain’t got that sorta time. C’mon, bud, stomp this guy already and head after the boss.”

I had the feeling I’d seen his face before, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember where. I didn’t sense any threat in the way he held himself. He didn’t seem all that important. In his face, though, I saw extraordinary resolve. That wasn’t so surprising, given he’d accompanied the Fighting God into battle.

“Fwahahaha! Very well! But this fellow here, he’s a former hero and he’s got an ardent following across the world. You can’t just treat him like riff-raff.”

“I know that, jeez. Only I know another thing too, pal. The chances of North God Kalman II beating Fighting God Badigadi in this fight? They’re pretty close to zilch.”

“Oho! Zilch, is it?”

“Look, I know how this goes. The silver-tongued North God’s gonna have you twisted round his little finger if you let him talk.”

“Fwahahaha! Never in my wildest dreams would be taken in by the likes of Alex!”

“Big talk from a guy what got taken in by the likes of me.”

“There’s no ‘likes of’ about it. I’d take you and your resolve a thousand times over a wishy-washy good-for-naught who ran around kicking up a fuss about how he was going to be a hero until he ran into a setback, dropped the idea, and settled for a bit part.”

The Fighting God turned back to me. My plan had failed… It hurt a little that Uncle Badi thought of me as a “good-for-naught,” I admit. I liked to think I’d put some consideration into where I was now.

But more importantly, perhaps this meant that the monkey-faced demon had made a serious effort to woo my uncle. That must be Geese. I’d better watch out for him. He was the man Rudeus Greyrat had been hunting for, after all.

“Fwahaha! Then prepare yourself!” Suddenly, the golden armor lurched toward me with ferocious power. I hadn’t felt such raw might since I faced off against the King Dragon Blade Kajakut—back before I had the magic sword. 

This could well be my final fight. I might have been wanting for strength, but life was giving me a worthy rival. It was time to fight and let fate decide who I was.

“Come on then!” I bellowed, facing down Badigadi. “I, Alex Rybak, North God Kalman II, shall be your opponent!”

***

Have you ever been chewed up and tossed out again like an old rag in the span of five minutes? And to add insult to injury, ever had it happen when you’ve reached a venerable sort of age and been renowned as a teacher?

I have. Right now, in fact. Fighting God Badigadi was strong. This was my old uncle who, every now and then, liked to drop cryptic comments with an air of significance about his past and skills; I never thought he would be this tough. The only thing I’d thought when I’d sparred with him in the past was that he might be a demon king, but I assumed he was nothing to my mother. Yet now, in a few blows, he’d snapped my staff in two and beaten me to a pulp. I’d been confident in my skill with both my staff and my fists, but he’d thrashed me as though the skills I’d honed over the past hundred years counted for nothing at all.

This was the power of the Fighting God. At first glance, you might think he’d simply augmented his strength and speed. Exchanging blows with him revealed the unbelievable degree to which the armor had improved his defenses. Badigadi wouldn’t be a force to challenge me with your average boosted armor. I could have taken him down empty-handed, whereas he’d never rival me under similar conditions.

Thinking about it, that wasn’t a surprise. Armor exists to protect you, as does defensive technique. Putting on a suit of armor that enhanced your abilities would enhance that too. Add an insurmountable gap in fundamental power and speed on top of that, and your opponent’s in a real fix. It’s like a mouse trying to kill a dragon. The dragon might die from some poison or disease carried by the mouse, but alas, the person inside that armor now was more resistant to such things than anyone alive. Immortal demons don’t die. Poison affects them, and they can fall ill, but neither will lead to death for an ­immortal demon.

I had no means of doing harm to the Fighting God’s Armor. I was up the creek without a paddle. If I had a magic sword…if I’d had the King Dragon Blade Kajakut, there was so much power wrapped up in that sword that with it, I could have done something.

But as I see it, a true hero is one who uses their wits when they aren’t strong enough. Not that I was the sharpest fellow. The blood of the infamous immortal demon king Atoferatofe flowed through my veins, so there was no chance of that. I had moments of ingenuity, but when push came to shove, I went to brute force. It was no wonder I ended up dependent on my magic sword and robbing people of peace.

But that wouldn’t pass muster this time. I had to do something…but I was at a loss.

Our Father who art in heaven, grant me wisdom.

“Yaaaargh!” Just then, I heard a familiar, female voice—my mother. There was Immortal Demon King Atoferatofe, standing a little way above the rest of us, and she wasn’t alone. In the distance, I could see the hulking figure of the Ogre God. Somehow, I also sensed that the others were hurrying to the scene.

“Come on, we should fall back and—” I started to say, then stopped. The others were one thing, but my mother wouldn’t be stopped now that she’d heard the enemy was attacking. The Ogre God, who made protecting this area his life’s mission, would join her. If Atofe and the Ogre God started to fight, it’d be a bad look if I didn’t join them. As far as fighting power goes, the three of us were among the greatest alive, if I do say so myself.

“Whoa!” Just then, something heavy came crashing down in front of me—a woman. Though…somehow, there was something a bit embarrassing about calling her a woman. Even if it were accurate.

“Mwaaahahahahaha!” It was Mother. Immortal Demon King Atoferatofe had arrived, swooping down with calculated drama.

“I’ll back you up,” she said. As a rule, you couldn’t go asking for all the reasons why my mother did what she did. Immortal Demons as a species were all about acting on the spur of the moment, according to their own peculiar rules.

“Fwahaha! Sister mine, this scoundrel just challenged me to single combat! Would you interfere in a duel between demon king and champion?!” 

One of those peculiar rules was: Single-combat is to be observed without interference.

“Eh? Is that true?” she demanded.

“What? I never said that it was.”

Lying through your teeth is another of the skills fostered in North God Style.

“He says he never said it!”

“Fwahahahaha! You really are a moron, sister mine!”

“Screw you! I’m no moron!”

Even if this hadn’t been single combat, it wasn’t like my mother to offer backup to anyone. Perhaps to her, the fact that we were fighting a demon king made our side the champion’s party. If that were so, this was unusual. Her demon king role was a point of pride for her, one that she placed a lot of importance on. She’d rarely ever stepped away from that role until now. Maybe acting like Rudeus’s familiar had wrought some change within her. Either that, or she had some history with the Fighting God Armor.

“Sandor!” 

The rest of the team had caught up. There was Master Rudeus and Miss Eris, Master Cliff, and Miss Elinalise, and even Guard Captain Moore. That was heartening. Although it made my heart swell, I had to wonder if it would be enough for a chance at victory…

Ah, well. Nothing for it but to try.

“Master Rudeus…”

“Fall back and get healed up! We’ll hold him here!”

Oh no, I thought. Rudeus was too focused on what was right in front of him. He was probably thinking that the arch-nemesis he’d been pursuing all this time had shown up out of the blue and looked ready to fight. We’d been caught off guard, but we were rallying. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

But he wasn’t going to listen if I recommended we retreat now. Without a plan, if we retreated here we’d be stuck. I didn’t have any idea what an adequate plan might look like.

Which meant we really did have to do this now.

It wasn’t that it was a bad idea on Master Rudeus’s part, not by any means. I only saw it because of the fight I’d just gone through: With the might we had now, we couldn’t beat Fighting God Badigadi.

***

Our battle with Badigadi began with me submerged in the ocean up to my waist. Engaging him at close range were my mother and the Ogre God, as well as Miss Eris and Master Ruijerd. After Master Cliff cast a healing spell on me, I supported them from a distance. Against such a deadly enemy, we needed to keep the full situation in mind. 

Badigadi took on all four of them with Geese still riding on his shoulder. Even burdened by Geese, Badigadi handled his opponents as though they were toddlers.

“Gyaaaah!” Even at this distance, I could tell Mother was mad. You wouldn’t guess it to look at her, but she was fully initiated in North God Style. Our arts had made great strides in the past few hundred years. On top of that, she was an immortal demon king. After however many thousands of years raining terror down upon humans, her power was uncontested. Just her name was enough to make any demon king who knew her of old tremble.

Yet she was powerless against Badigadi, as were the other three. Miss Eris’s sword moved too fast for the eye to see, but she couldn’t cut through Badigadi. Master Ruijerd’s dead-on hits were all parried.

Badigadi dominated.

Atofe’s personal guard encircled him at a distance, flinging magic at him. Ice arrows, flame arrows, and stone cannons all rained down on Badigadi—but it was as though every move was snuffed out right before it made contact. The guards’ spells didn’t reach Geese. Was that the Fighting God Armor’s power, or was Geese using a Magic Item? Probably the latter. I didn’t know much about Geese, but I was sure he’d done his homework where Master Rudeus was concerned. The Man-God was involved here, so it was best to assume that he had a plan worked out for how to counter us. In other words, our first priority was to take down Geese. Unfortunately, you only had to look at how badly Mother was struggling to know that getting close to him would be no easy task.

“I’ll hit him with magic first!” Rudeus called. “Back me up!” After watching the battle for a while, Master Rudeus seemed to have made up his mind. Despite coming across as a bit of a coward, when the moment of crisis came, he wasn’t running.

He inhaled. I sensed the magic gathering in his hands. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure whether he might catch Mother and the Ogre God in whatever he was going to do. His target…well, who else would it be? It was Geese. He’d reached the same conclusion I had. With his magic, it should’ve been simple to directly attack an opponent he had a clear line of sight on.

What sort of magic was he planning on using? The spells he favored were Stone Cannon, Quagmire, and Deep Mist… But the Stone Cannons the guards were firing were being vaporized.

“All right.” Master Rudeus raised his hand above his head, and a sudden gust of wind bellowed. The air crackled with unbridled magic. I looked up at the sky and saw at once that black clouds had closed over the dark sky. They were growing. Rain began to fall around us. In the distance, a roll of thunder. The wind howled, stirring up waves on the ocean. This had to be the Saint-tier water spell, Cumulonimbus…except that spell was solely for use against enemy armies. Even if it did work on the Fighting God, it would also do terrible damage to our allies. The ocean swelled before my eyes. As the waves started to grow larger, Mother and the others looked like they were struggling a little. Only a little, mind you.

Master Rudeus must’ve intended to strike just beyond them with the King-tier water spell, Lighting. Usually, you’d compress Cumulonimbus before it was complete and bring it down as lighting. This time, the clouds went on expanding. Tornadoes spun up around them and the fierce winds and rain lashed at my face. With my poor understanding of magic, I wouldn’t have seen it, but I knew offensive strategy, and so I understood: a special technique. Master Rudeus was about to use a special technique.

The waves grew higher, and the shockwaves from the three who continued to fight sent up plumes of water. Clouds filled the entirety of the sky. It was dark and I couldn’t even see fifty meters in front of me due to the rain. Even then, while I wouldn’t have lost sight of my opponent, I wouldn’t be surprised if these fighters had lost sight of Rudeus. He, by contrast, was aided by the Eye of Distant Sight.

The demon eye would no doubt be fixed as usual on the three fighters. Demon King Badigadi neutralized the power of demonic eyes, so he, and Geese up there on his shoulder, would be nigh impossible to make out. But Master Rudeus had to be able to see Atofe and the Ogre God, and so know where to aim.

Master Rudeus’s raised hand closed in a fist. An accumulation of magic, so enormous I felt my hair stand on end, rose into the heavens. Just like that, the clouds contracted. Those clouds that had seemed as though they might cover the whole world vanished in an instant.

I could see the moon.

He was waiting for his moment. I didn’t say anything. Not, “Now!” Or, “On my word!” or anything else. Why? Because Master Rudeus knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t miss his mark.

Mother and the Ogre God both attacked at once, and Badigadi threw both of them back. For a split second, there was distance between them and the Fighting God. 

That was the moment. Rudeus swung his arm down.

“Lightning.”

It was like no Lightning I’d ever seen before. The spell Lightning compresses thunderclouds to bring down a bolt of lightning. But what came shooting down now wasn’t lightning. It was a pillar of light. The moment it materialized, all sound around us was blotted out. For a moment, the rain stopped, and the world was engulfed in still, frigid brightness.

Beneath the pillar of light, a vast tower of water rose. Then came a thunderous rumble, akin to the thunder after ordinary lightning, battering my eardrums.

“…and…to…of earth…”

Through the roar, I heard snatches of Master Cliff’s incantation. In response, Master Rudeus began to prepare another spell. 

A mass of water rushing toward me obscured my ­vision. The impact of his Lightning spell had raised a tidal wave on an Apocalyptic scale. Before my eyes, the water rushed closer, sweeping up everything in its path—

“Sand Swarm.” It collided with the mass of sand, and the two slammed into one another, each canceling the other out. Through the combination of Master Rudeus and Master Cliff’s magic, the water dissipated into brown rain, muddying the waters of the ocean and the beach. I watched the rain fall, then turned back to the Fighting God.

I strained my eyes, trying to locate a trace of gold.

I found nothing. I couldn’t make out any trace of him.

“Did I get him?” Master Rudeus murmured, perhaps not realizing he’d said it out loud.

Not that saying it could rob us of a victory, but it was still an unlucky phrase. I knew from experience. If you’re muttering, “Did I get him?” you didn’t.

I twitched, sensing something above me. I looked up. Miss Eris and Master Ruijerd seemed to have sensed it too. A split second later, a pillar of sand materialized. Something was coming down out of the sky. Even drenched in the muddy rain, it sparkled.

Gold.

“Ugh.” I heard Master Rudeus groan.

It hit the ground right in front of him. Even in the Magic Armor, the golden armor was twice his size. Was what lay beneath that helmet really the face I knew?

“Thought I was a goner,” came a voice from the armor’s shoulder. Its source was the mud-drenched, monkey-faced demon, Geese Nukadia. 

Then, the armor spoke. “I am Fighting God Badigadi! Friend to the Man-God, heir to the name of Fighting God! I challenge Rudeus Greyrat to single combat!”

“N-no thank you!”

“Fwahahaha! You’re wasting your breath!”

There was no time to stop him. The golden armor’s punch hit Rudeus straight on. One hit was all it took. One hit and the Magic Armor fell apart. Rudeus was thrown into the sky, falling back to the ground with a thud.

“Rudeus!” Miss Eris’s cry echoed around us.

***

Have you ever seen someone mauled, then tossed out like an old rag?

I have. I’ve seen it more times than I can count, and I’ve done it to people with my own hands. I wasn’t on the giving side of it this time. Just now, the majestic Magic Armor had been torn into scrap metal, Rudeus tumbling from it like a ragdoll. He was face down at first, so I couldn’t see it, but he was at least ragged enough to make the scrappy regulars at your tavern laugh and say, “Looking handsome, boy!”

Over the following ten seconds, the rest of our side fell to pieces.

Mother exploded. The attack left only her legs behind, and now she had to regenerate. Of course, she’d be back and cackling before too long. The Ogre God was beaten black and blue, and his arm was broken. Ogres are hard to kill, but going off the amount of blood coming out of his mouth, if he didn’t get a healing spell soon, he was going to die. With Rudeus down too, morale plummeted. Miss Eris ran to Rudeus’s side, calling out to him as she held her sword at the ready. Master Ruijerd wasn’t such a coward that he’d give up the fight just because his commander went down, but he was visibly shaken. Master Cliff had lost his nerve and Miss Elinalise’s shield was shattered, forcing her withdrawal. Moore would fight on to the death for my mother, but without her, it looked like he’d decided to retreat.

The time had come.

I reached down and picked up my mother’s fallen sword, the sword of Demon King Atoferatofe. One of the forty-eight magic swords crafted by the great demon swordsmith Julian Harisco. This was the magic sword Jawbreaker. That gruff old mule of a smith had made an offering of it to my mother in his father’s honor. Apparently, she’d shown a rare display of gravitas when she accepted it, and from that day forth, she’d kept it on her person at all times. She’d never let anyone else wield it.

Well. With this, I could let loose a little.

“Master Ruijerd! Master Moore!” The two of them glanced my way for just a second. They didn’t have their full attention to spare, but they were listening. “I’ll make an opening for you! Fall back!”

All heroic epics come to an end. Fairy tales closed on a great finale after vanquishing an evil demon king, but reality wasn’t so generous. Almost always, the end is quite tedious. You challenged an enemy greater than yourself, or you fell for someone’s plot, or else you were challenged by a new hero. You lost. You died. That’s how it was for my father, North God Kalman. No matter how incredible a hero might be, no matter how strong, so long as they engage in war, defeat and death are sure to catch up with them eventually. A hero, after all, is heroic. Even when they know the hero dies in the end, people light up at his glorious exploits. The heroes’ way imprints itself onto their hearts. 

My death here wouldn’t be written down anywhere, though… Just like my father, North God Kalman. The death he went to was never written down. 

Well, I looked up to my father. Why not go the same way? I’d go up against an enemy I had no hope of defeating and go down in a blaze of glory. It wasn’t the death I’d pictured for myself… But hell, whose death is?

“In my left hand, a sword.”

Been a while since I said this out loud. Hope I don’t choke or stammer…

“In my right hand, a sword.” I gripped the hilt with both hands. Power bubbled up from the pit of my stomach, flowing out to fill my body. I set my sights on the raging golden armor.

“With these, mine arms, countless lives shall I claim, and a hundred million deaths I deliver!”

The words I’d said countless times in my life when the crucial moment came. I’d told myself that once I’d spoken those words, defeat was out of the question. I hadn’t spoken them once since I gave up being a hero. Even after all this time, as I went to meet defeat, I was surprised at how they flowed off my tongue.

“I am North God Alex Rybak. Prepare yourself!”

This would be my final battle, so I’d make it count.