“Haha …… hahahahahaha!”

In the centre of the black tornado that struck the sky, Raidorl laughed loudly as if he were mad.

All around him, the noxious miasma was raging like a mad wind. It was a horrible sight that chilled everyone to the core, but Raidorl, who was in the middle of it, was not afraid.

On the contrary, he squinted his eyes and lifted his lips into a crescent moon as if he was comfortable with the rush of evil around him.

“This is the holy sword! This is my power! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

A feeling of omnipotence envelops Raidorl’s body, as if he were a god or a demon. Through the hilt he grasped, an immense amount of power flowed like a tidal wave.

As if in response to his master’s frenzy, the holy sword, Dáinsleif, intensified the force of the storm.

The black wind that comes out of the Dáinsleif seems to have the same effect as Raidorl’s ‘spell fighting’ method of putting the enemy in an abnormal state.

One by one, the bodies of the Imperial soldiers struck by the cursed wind fell, as poison, paralysis, petrification and other effects appeared on their bodies.

“Such…power..”

“It’s not a man, it’s a monster!”

“What are we fighting ……, is that the incarnation of the demon Ahriman ……?”

(TL: Ahriman iranian demon. Zoroastrian religion)  

The Imperial soldiers, who had narrowly escaped the curse, forgot to run away and stared at the raging black tornado in dismay.

Although they had just defeated hundreds of soldiers, there were still thousands more standing in their way.

“Outnumbered, outgunned, so what? We crush differences in numbers! I’ll crush the difference in numbers! I’ll trample it on the ground! If there’s anyone who can stop me, come on out!”

This is the first time Raidorl pulled out the holy sword, and with the overwhelming power in his hands, he felt arrogantly confident.

In the beginning, Raidorl had devoted five years of his life to fighting in the frontier cities, and he was proud to say that he had become strong enough to call himself a strong man.

He thought that he was already a complete swordsman.

“But …… this is not enough!  I have yet to reach the ultimate power!”

If they despise it as arrogance, so be it.

If they reviled it as pride, so be it. 

“But do not call me weak.”

“I will not be defeated again. By this holy sword, by this Dáinsleif that has chosen me over two hundred years since the first King of Zain.”

“I will never let anyone take my way again.”

“More! Give me more power!”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

With an arrogant will, he raises his power to the limit.

A high-pitched scream came back from the holy sword clenched in his right hand, and the black storm gained more momentum.

The tornado, which had grown so huge that it covered the entire battlefield, was now like a single black dragon ascending to the heavens.

At the sight of it, the Imperial soldiers lost their will to fight and fell to their knees.

“We can’t win…… we can’t win against this thing.”

Someone murmured amongst the Imperial. It was a statement that echoed the thoughts of all the Imperial soldiers present.

There is no way they can win against  a power beyond human understanding. They can’t even challenge it.

Deprived of the option to flee, let alone to fight, the kneeling soldiers felt like sinners awaiting the judgment of God in heaven.

“Oh, ……!”

“God, ……!”

In the meantime, the kingdom soldiers watching the battle behind Raidorl were also on their knees on the ground.

They were also exposed to the raging jet-black wind, but it seems that the power of the Dáinsleif only affects the enemy. The curse had no effect on them at all.

But even without the effects of the curse, they voluntarily fell to their knees and folded their hands in prayer.

In front of them is a wielder of supernatural power that can only be God or the Devil.

If it is the enemy, there is nothing to do but to sink into disappointment and despair, and to cry out in sorrow, as the imperial soldiers do.

But – as God’s agents – the keepers of the Holy Sword are not the kingdom’s enemies. He is on their side.

Therefore, the kingdom soldiers are praying earnestly.

Thanking God that the Mad Lord is on their side.

They begged that the incarnation of violence would not become an enemy.

They kept praying and praying and praying.

“Hahahahahaha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Raidorl laughs, not knowing what the soldiers are thinking.

No matter how many cursed winds he threw around, the power that still rose up in him, no longer made him want to hold back.

“I can’t wait to see how far I can go with this power – and I want to test it.”

“Sword Fighting Method, Jormungandr, serpent of apocalypse!”

(TL: Norse mythology)  

With a surge of elation, Raidorl swung his sword forward.

The point of the sword was aimed at the Imperial army’s position on the hill.

The wind that had been raging around Raidorl became a huge slash that cut through the battlefield according to the will of the young man who was the bearer of the holy sword.

“HUAAAAAAAAAAA!” 

Countless Imperial soldiers were swallowed up by the black slash that cut the battlefield in half and disappeared.

And yet, the slash never faltered. With a thunderous roar, it tore through the battlefield towards the main Imperial position on the hill.

“I’ve won!”

After unleashing an attack that could change even the terrain, Raidorl bared his fangs and laughed, convinced that he had won.

“Yaaaahhhh!”

But – before the attack that seemed to be tearing through the imperial ranks, there was a shadow standing in the way.

The small, thin figure was too unreliable compared to the huge black slash.

It looked like a small boat pushing its way through a stormy sea.

“Protect us all! Claíomh Solas!”

“What…..?”

A small figure flashed its right hand. At the same moment, there was a roar and a flash of lightning.

The girl was holding a thin, pale sword in her right hand. The dazzling thunderbolt from the sword struck the jet-black slash head-on, coming in like a tsunami. 

Black and white. The wind and lightning were in balance for only a few seconds.

In a few moments, the thunderbolts break through the slashes, and the cursed wind vanishes in a thousand pieces.

“Ohh…there you are.” 

In the end, it’s a matter of time before Raidorl able to do anything about it. His calm mind took stock of the situation.

It is true that those who are chosen by the holy sword may gain the power of a god.

But it’s not just Raidorl who has the power of God in his hands. There is at least one other person on this battlefield.

“So, you’re the empire’s holy sword holder, Célia Von Althlein!”

“That’s as far as you can go! I’ll be your opponent from here on out!”

Raidorl bares his fangs and howls at the appearance of a powerful enemy.

As he tightens his grip on his Dáinsleif, Célia leaps at him with a furious cry,  Claíomh Solas in hand.