The Legendary Spearman Returns-Chapter 125Side Story

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“Protect the high priests! Stop him with your lives!”

“Not a chance.” Bel leaped into the air with a wild grin on his face.

He hung above the paladins’ head for way longer than was natural.

He looked downward, picking out Cardinal Kurz and eleven other cardinals and high priests. They were his targets.

“Too complacent.”

The vast interior of the Great Temple was packed with paladins, but Bel didn’t care one bit. If someone blocked his way, he could just jump over them.

Bel kicked off of a ledge near the ceiling, rocketing him toward his target.

The paladins' eyes widened as they watched Bel bypass the six-deep wall of men they had established around Kurz and the High Priests in a single bound.

“If you don’t want to die, get lost!” Bel yelled.

Bel put his momentum into a straight punch. The paladins scrambled to pull their divine power to create a Holy Shield—the shield of god, as they called it.

“Arrrgggghhh!”

Their gigantic, over ten-meters-tall, shield of light shattered pathetically, scattering into so much dust.

“One,” Bel murmured.

“D-Don’t kill...!”

Maison, the Fourth High Priest, didn’t even get to leave behind his last words—he wasn pulverized by Bel’s punch.

Bel wasn’t done.

“Two! Three!”

The Fifth and Seventh High Priests, who had been standing next to Maison, were hit in the nape.

With a sickening crunch, both their necks were snapped in less than three seconds.

“Die!”

Dozens of paladins belatedly swung their swords at Bel.

“Why don’t you just take these?” Bel sneered, chucking the two high priests' corpses at them.

“Ah!”

The paladins, startled, tried to stop their divine power before they hit the priests.

“Attack! Those are just dead bodies!”

The paladins stopped and began to draw up more of their divine power. Dozens of swords resonated with the air.

The two corpses were cut to ribbons.

“You heartless bastards,” Bel lamented. “You fanatics are worse than me, you know.”

Despite their heartlessness, the paladins’ swords couldn’t reach Bel before he jumped up to the ceiling once again.

“Do you think the same trick will work twice?”

Bel stopped in midair as if time had frozen.

“Is this...?”

Bel was stuck tight like an insect trapped in a spider’s web. It was like an invisible force had locked itself around his limbs. When he focused his mana into his eyes, he could figure out what happened—a rope of golden light was tying him up.

“Hahahahahaha! Yeah, it’d be boring if it was too easy. Entertain me a little!”

Bel’s muscles swelled like balloons.

“You crazy bastard, there is no way you would be able to sever a Holy Web with brute stre—”

The paladin didn’t get to finish speaking. The rope of light exploded into a fine cloud of down.

Bel ignored the paladins as they stared at him in shock and raised his leg high above his head, ready to drop it in a devastating kick.

“Alright,” he shouted, “three more!”

Bel’s ax-kick fired a mass of aura that hurtled straight toward three of the high priests like a ballista bolt.

The kick slammed into them like a bolt of lightning, bowling them over. The priests writhed on the floor, but their spasms were short-lived.

Bel had taken out half of his targets, leaving only three cardinals, and three high priests left.

“Mo-Monster...!”

“Cardinal Kurz! Take the others and go! We’ll all die at this rate.”

Even until that moment, Kurz had been staring dumbly at the slaughter, shivering. He hadn’t expected Bel to be so powerful. Bel was a human? That was too unfair!

“Can you see reality now?” Bel tilted his head.

“Ho-How dare you...!”

“Enough with the ‘how dare you’. I hate—no, I loathe such pretentious weaklings.”

Kurz trembled harder, his face reddening in humiliation.

“Now, shall we make a deal?” Bel smiled crookedly.

“A deal...?”

Bel stood imperiously above them, dragons that shone with a terrifying radiance snapping and snarling as they wound themselves around Bel’s legs.

“Admit your weakness and kiss the floor,” Bel ordered with a smug grin. “Then I’ll spare you.”

The priest and paladins stared at him, stunned, as the reality of what Bel was slowly sank in.

One man. The Hubalt Empire didn’t have the power to go up against one man in spite of being known as the most powerful nation on the continent.

“Ahhh... Mighty Hermes...”

Finally, Kurz slowly sank to his knees with his eyes tightly shut.

He couldn’t even think about running away. If that kind of monster was going to come after him, Kurz would never get another night of rest.

* * *

“Have you gotten in contact with Queen Consort Charles?”

“Yes, she said that she’ll go with your decisions regardless of the result, Your Majesties.”

“...I see.” Iceline smiled bitterly.

Icarus tilted her head at Iceline in confusion. “You don’t look too good for some reason.”

“Our children have turned their weapons on each other; what parent could possibly be at peace?”

“Underneath your icy looks, you’re too soft-hearted for your own good, Iceline.” f(r)eenovelkiss

“Are you really okay with this, Icarus?”

“This is the children’s decision; as their parent, I should respect it.”

Icarus turned to look at the arena.

The two princes would contend for the throne before the Avalon Empire’s numerous nobles and the Palace’s personnel. The winner of this duel would become the sole and undisputed crown prince of the Avalon Empire.

“To be honest, I’m so proud of them right now,” Icarus blurted.

“...Pardon?”

“This is the best possible timing now to conclude the issue of succession,” Icarus explained.

It had only been three days, but Icarus had received messages from various countries’ rulers; they were all offers to form an alliance with Avalon to fight against Hubalt. Since they had witnessed the battle with their own eyes—and the war crimes Hubalt committed in the process—they must have finished weighing their choices. Deciding which nation would lead the alliance, however, was a different matter.

“Once it becomes known that His Majesty is away right now, those hyenas will bare their fangs,” Icarus added.

“Isn’t that a bit of a stretch...?”

Icarus shook her head. “It’s not. Judging from how they remained bystanders the entire time, I assure you what they wanted the most would have probably been the mutual destruction of Avalon and Hubalt.”

Iceline’s face darkened. In that case, Avalon should use any means necessary to take the initiative in the formation of the alliance to make sure those people wouldn’t harbor any second thoughts.

“It’s starting.” Icarus pointed at the arena. “We shall also support whoever wins this fight; this country can afford nothing less.”

“...Yes, I understand.” Iceline turned her attention to the arena too.

Her sons were pointing their sword and spear at each other.

“I’m not sure you’ve gotten any better,” Selim quietly said.

“You’ll pay dearly if you let your guard down.”

“One thousand, four hundred, and twenty-seven battles and one thousand, four hundred, and twenty six victories.”

Kireua tilted his head in confusion.

“That’s the score for our spars.”

Kireua gave him a blank look. He and Sleim had never sparred since Kireua had left Avalon, so that record dated to before they turned ten years old.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You still remember all that?” Kireua asked with his eyebrow raised.

“You were my best rival and the catalyst for my growth at the time.”

“Urgh. I’m cringing,” Kireua scoffed. “Are you trying to provoke me? You said the score yourself, so why else would you call me a rival?”

Selim wordlessly pointed his spear at Kireua. Did Kireua remember how shocked Selim had been on the only day he hadn’t won?

“...You’re still my best rival. No matter what anyone says, you’re—”

“Ah, I’m getting goosebumps. Cut it out,” Kireua interrupted. He gathered his mana, wrapping his sword in a scarlet blaze. Kireua wasn’t sure he would emerge victorious, but he also didn’t think he was going to lose easily either. The best rival of his life? That was what Kireua wanted to say.

‘Teacher, let me show you how much better your student has become,’ Kireua thought. He was sure Ulabis must be in the audience.

Kireua’s legs tensed. He was going to attack first and he was going to win. He had no intention of handing over the throne without putting up a fight.

“I’m going to use my full power from the start,” Kireua warned Selim.

Cracks began to radiate from Kireua’s feet like an earthquake, and then pillars of fire shot from the cracks.

“Whoooaaa! Isn’t that the Flame Emperor’s technique?”

“I see the student lives up to his teacher’s reputation. It would take at least an A-Class knight to imitate that technique... His Highness must be a lot stronger than before.”

Despite their hushed exclamations, the nobles didn’t think that Kireua had the slightest chance of winning. They knew the difference between princes’ levels was too great. Everyone in the continent admitted that Selim Sanders was a genius of geniuses and had inherited the Martial God’s monstrous talent.

However... when the pillars of fire stitching the arena suddenly turned black, the nobles began to fall silent.

“B-Black fire...?”

“Ebon flames are the fires of the Demon Realm!”

“Wait, did Prince Kireua acquire the same power as His Majesty?”

“What do you mean? The same power as the emperor?”

“All of you already know that His Majesty is the one and only person who can utilize demonic power naturally.”

The murmurings became louder and louder. This was Kireua’s first time officially revealing his ebon flames to Avalon’s nobles.

All of the ebon flame in the arena gathered at the tip of Kireua’s sword, turning the weapon pitch black.

“I only got the hang of this a couple days ago, so keep in mind that I can’t control it very well,” Kireua remarked as he held up the burning blade.

“You...?”

“I told you that I’m going all-in right from the start, didn’t I?” Kireua’s sword vibrated with power. Kireua gave it an enthusiastic swing. “Try blocking it. I’ll see for myself if you’re qualified to become His Majesty’s heir.”

An enormous attack shot toward Selim.