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When the Sword Demon revealed to him on the way to the control tower who the woman with the sword really was, Garfiel felt as if someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed it tightly.
After all, this guy is a living legend! People sing songs about him and his wife.
The boy knew very well the songs about Wilhelm's feelings and maybe that's why his situation really touched him. Especially since the old man had met his beloved after so many years on the battlefield, as an enemy.
- But on the contrary, the previous Sword Saint died in the battle with the White Whale...
- Yes, however, these people had the gall to use her body for their own purposes. They trampled her soul and forced her to stand up to the people she wanted to protect. I will never forgive them...
Wilhelm ran, gazing ahead with dignity. His voice was calm, and his fighting spirit burned in his gaze. Garfiel did not know how to react. For what could he say to a man whose beloved had become a plaything in the hands of evil? Who would have to soil his sword with her blood?
- I... - choked the boy out. All those feelings he couldn't even accurately describe came back again. He knew one thing. It was his duty to help Mimi.
This little one could die at any moment through the wound that was meant for me. I must defeat Theresia so that the blessing of the God of Death will cease!
- I know you want to confront her. I will not forbid you to do so. I also think it is my duty to tell you everything I know about the power of the enemy. I think death has affected their strength.
- Have they become stronger than when they were alive?
- No, quite the opposite. I believe that they are far from the strength of their glory days.
Garfiel mused. He had already faced the animated warriors twice, and twice he had failed at the task.
So were they even stronger when they were alive?
He loved songs about heroes and various legends. He admired those who managed to write their name in the pages of history. Therefore, now that he was about to face his idols, doubts began to grip him all the more.
Will I be able to do it? Am I strong enough to stand up to a legend?
- Garfiel...
They stopped,
- I can feel it," he said, having in mind the powerful aura that was a foreshadowing of the coming battle.
From between the buildings emerged the entrance to a tower. Before it stood two people: one huge, the other petite, and something.
It wriggled along the ground, bloated, shapeless. It filled the entire space across the road. In the moonlight it was difficult to see details, but it was still a shocking sight.
- This must be the Archbishop of Lust... What a bizarre character.
Fortunately, they were prepared for it. Subaru told them in detail about the terrible Capella Authority.
Garfiel calmly crossed the silver shields on his chest, preparing for battle.
He had reason to hate Lust. After all, it was her puppet that had wronged Mimi, and with the help of her Authority she had turned many of Priestella's inhabitants into monsters. Among them was a certain man, Garek Thompson. A man with whom Garfiel's mother had started a new family. He didn't want any of them to suffer. He cared about the happiness of these people.
- He who gets placed on a bonfire like Oregren will regret it later. She'll regret brazenly attacking us, too," he muttered, slamming his fist into a fist.
Wilhelm, who was standing next to him, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes suddenly became as cold as ice.
They looked at each other in agreement... and took off at exactly the same moment.
The Sword Demon ran with a low bend, the stone slabs on the ground cracking under his feet. As he got closer, a silver flash slashed the air, and with a swish it rained down on the enemy.
Wilhelm's first strike was beautiful. Like a work of art. Like an invitation to a dance. However, it was not intended to injure her opponent. The cut created a gust of wind that knocked her hood off her head, revealing her face. To their eyes appeared a girlish face of unspeakable sweetness. The young woman had long, fiery red hair tied back in a ponytail and cold, blue eyes.
- Theresia... - whispered Wilhelm.
Disregarding the shrug of the aged swordsman, her own beloved husband, the woman Garfiel knew from song took a turn and responded with an attack.
Oh my... What a jam! And another thing! She really is like the dead! Like the God of Death, only in a human body! There's no question, it's her. This must be the same Sword Saint who, according to legends, single-handedly killed a thousand demihumans during one of the battles!
Theresia's cuts were like devastating tornadoes, but none of them hurt William. He parried them all. The old man mastered the shrug. Now he was simply a swordsman facing off against another master swordsman.
That she was stronger when she was alive? How could it be?!
Garfiel understood that before his eyes, a duel was about to begin between two people who had reached the heights of fighting with white weapons. When they had crossed swords the previous time, their fight had gone down in history.
- I won’t let anyone get in their way! - He growled and moved to zigzag at the giant to pull him away from Wilhelm.
While the old man's duel was almost ceremonial in nature, the blond man faced a clash in a completely different atmosphere. He did not run directly at his opponent. He wanted the first attack to surprise the enemy. Only in this way could he hope to reach him with fangs and claws and break through the cover of eight arms. He made a series of jumps, bouncing off the walls of more buildings.
- Kurgaaaaan! - he cried out, noticing that four hands were emerging from between half a robe.
Powerful arms as thick as tree trunks and capable of crushing rocks stopped Garfiel's blow, and a shockwave spread around them, forming a shallow funnel beneath them.
In moments like this, he felt alive. When a shudder ran through the muscles of his arm from his fist, he knew he was ready for this fight. Undeterred by his first failure, he threw a hail of punches at the giant, trying to make up for his lack of arms. He hit as hard as he could. He hit with his fists, scratched, kicked, and bit. All of this just to break through the warrior's defenses.
Apparently, some of the attacks had reached Kurgan, as blood began to ooze from the cuts on his blue skin.
It works. I did it! I did it! I wounded the legendary Eight Arm Kurgan! Wait, wait! Garfiel, don't let this success distract you. Focus on the fight. Separate yourself from everything, turn into a tiger. Put your whole soul into it. Otherwise, you won't survive!
He roared, forcing a partial transformation to tear at his enemy's throat with his claws.
Unfortunately, he was thinking about too many things.
Ram once reprimanded him for this. She had said then that he shouldn't let unnecessary thoughts distract him during a fight. He knew she was right, but the worries just kept coming, one after another.
It appeared that I was not fighting the holder of the blessing of the God of Death, And now what? After all, I want to help Mimi so much. What about my mother's family? Are Chief and Otto safe? Can I do it? After all, I'm weak. I was scared of Reinhard.
He tried very hard to chase away the anxiety, but then he found that he was thinking so intensely about wanting to stop thinking that it distracted him too. That was why he failed to repel Kurgan's next blow.
Garfiel groaned heavily. He flew backwards mowed down by a powerful arm. His opponent moved behind him to deliver another blow, this time from above. The blond man's back hit the pavement. He earned another kick to the face for dessert. He spat blood. His broken nose made breathing difficult.
Then a hail of blows from giant fists rained down on him.
He clenched his eyelids. The blows were coming so fast that he had no time to take a breath. The enemy used all eight arms to pounce on him like a rag doll. He did not make a single sound. Not even a single shout, not even a single mumble. He was simply silent as the grave.
Just a moment ago, I was convinced that I was ready for this fight. Now what? Where's my warrior pride? On top of that, he doesn't even have all the strength he had when he was alive.... I think again. I'll never learn.
He squirmed, angry with himself, then with a flourish he drove his fangs deeply into Kurgan's shoulder. Black blood dripped down.
Garfiel was already about to move on to his next attack when he hooked his claw into his enemy's cloak. The pulled material fell to the ground. The boy was able to see the body of the War God in all its glory. As big as a true giant, he stood with a mouth worthy of a demon from hell and four pairs of arms, only two of which grew out of the usual place. The third pair began at his sides and the fourth at his back. It was as if nature had created it specifically with battlefields in mind.
Such a sight could sow the seeds of uncertainty in even the bravest. Garfiel, who came face to face with the truest hero of legends, had to admit that he felt not honored, but terrified.
This is some kind of nightmare... I've been in some kind of nasty nightmare since yesterday and I can't wake up from it!
Images of the past few days flashed before his eyes. He realized he was in a quandary.
Don't think so much! It doesn't matter who he is! I want you to beat him now!
- This is no time for foolishness!
He clenched his teeth so that he bit the inside of his cheek. The taste of blood sobered him. He looked at the Kurgan standing before him. Huge and silent as a mountain.
- Who needs a warrior who shakes his pants in front of the enemy?! But the Chief and Otto are counting on me! If all I can do is fight, then let's get to work, haaaaaaa! - he roared. He wanted to give himself courage with that. He put on a brave face, if only it would help.
He made sure his whole feet touched the ground.
Well, Spirits of the Earth. I need to heal what Kurgan rattled me so I can fight again at full strength!
Magic flowed into his body from the soil, repairing the broken bones and cuts.
He stomped in readiness and leapt from the air, attacking with all the power Mother Nature had just granted him. In his silver-clad paws, he gathered power that could demolish houses and shatter rocks. He aimed for the center of the sternum.
Kurgan stopped the blow with his weapon, the Demon Cleaver. Just like that, he simply took the entire force upon himself. And he didn't even flinch, didn't even try to redirect the blow, Amazing!
There is a gulf between us.
- Garfiel! - he heard Wilhelm's voice coming as if from far away,
Why is he calling me? Isn't he busy with his duel to the death?
When he looked at the Sword Demon's face, he understood. Wilhelm wasn't looking at Kurgan - it wasn't the giant that was the mortal threat at the moment. He was glancing at what had grown behind him. At the massive, writhing shape that was coming towards them to consume Garfiel along with the War God.
- This is Lust? No... - the boy choked out.
The shapeless mass was close enough that Garfiel finally realized what he was really looking at. At a great, billowing wave of blood. The metallic stench hit his nostrils, bringing with it a wave of nausea.
He was absorbed.
He could not breathe, and saw the world as if through a red prism. The weight of the liquid made the boy collapse on the pavement. He looked up at the moon. It seemed to him that it too was mocking his helplessness.
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