Student Council President Election Battle (9)
Walking the path.
For some reason, the shape of the road differs from person to person. Perhaps it’s true that nothing in this world is ever truly fair.
To some, the path is peaceful and smooth, reminiscent of a forest trail perfect for a pleasant outing.
The scent of blooming daffodils drifts in the air, and occasionally one exchanges greetings with passersby like squirrels or deer, humming along to the chirping of birds… until a rock jutting on the roadside catches one’s foot.
Then, nursing a throbbing toe, they retell their story, how their life too had trials, was hard, but they overcame. They overcame, thus they succeeded.
So, what of the road ahead for Clevius?
The path he treads reeks of blood and decay, teeming with packs of ravenous wolves. There are no flowers on the wayside, only the stench of sewage. The sun had long been obscured by dark clouds, leaving a dense darkness to cling to the outstretched road. Tripping over rocks became so routine that taking one’s shoes off would reveal nothing but calluses.
Sprinting every day seems futile; it’s evident that before even reaching the end, one would collapse miserably on the road. Thus, the boy doesn’t run at all.
Once there was a time… he indeed tried to sprint with all his might. Most of those attempts are now a history marred with failures.
“*Sigh*…”
The first action of Clevius, who was obstructing the path in the pouring rain, was — to stab himself in the shoulder.
– Phwock!
– Whish!
Fresh blood cascades from his already blood-stained body. The pain is unbearable, but after clenching his teeth for only a short while, Clevius stumbles to his feet, the red glow in his eyes piercing through the sodden fringe of his hair.
Elvira swallowed dryly at the sight so chilling to behold. The ‘Bloodsword Technique’ — a forbidden art of the Nortondale family, never taught to anyone. Clevius, born with the fate of a sword demon, never received this teaching from others; he awoke to it on his own.
The strength drained from his body gives him the appearance of a living corpse. The blood flowing around him ignites with magic power and sticks to the blade.
Only the result of his feet stamping the ground remained. Now Clevius had vanished, and only the shattered marble floor betrayed his path due to the powerful impact.
One must put aside moral rules that dictate against murder. If you don’t approach with the intent to kill, you can’t even face the enemy.
Clevius, who sprung forth like a compressed spring, already had his sword aimed at Lucy’s throat.
– Clang!
Of course, the sword didn’t complete its thrust.
The blade that touched Lucy’s neck was immovable as if it had met an enormous iron wall.
‘Basic’ defensive magic.
Despite its name, the power behind Lucy’s magic made it as solid as a colossal iron barrier.
Lucy casually swung her arm, as if swatting an annoying insect, sending Clevius flying once again.
As he crashed on a corner of the rose garden gazebo, he immediately kicked off the ground, not even giving the impact time to dissipate.
Clevius’s piercing glare accurately caught Lucy’s magic. Her combat style was to overwhelm her enemies with her sheer force, simple and clear. If Clevius could grasp her pattern, his agility exceeding human limits would allow him to dodge.
However, Lucy’s magical patterns are too diverse to be fully comprehended. She doesn’t use them simply because they are too bothersome.
The heirloom of Ed, a giant bow, floats in the air. Engraved with various intermediate and high-level magic, dozens of magic arrows are loaded.
Clevius, sensing the flow of magic in that direction, twisted his body with superhuman reflexes… but couldn’t avoid being struck by dozens of arrows engraved with the intermediate fire magic ‘Pillar of Fire’.
– Kwaah!
– Whoooosh!
Dozens of pillars of fire erupt majestically even amidst the rainy weather and swiftly swallow up Clevius.
“Cough, hah..!”
Luckily, he rolled away before the spells took full effect and managed to escape to the outskirts of the rose garden. Clevius yanked the debilitating magic arrows from his left shoulder and thigh.
The extracted magic arrows dissipated into the air, but the damage remained conclusively etched. Clevius’s body became further drenched in his own blood.
Yet the Bloodsword Technique turns even one’s spilled blood into a new source of magical power, making the forbidden art even more taboo.
As wounds accumulate and the body becomes coated with blood, the power enveloping the blade and the body expands tremendously.
Nevertheless, even with the Bloodsword Technique at its peak, it would never compare to Lucy’s overwhelming magical power.
– Whoosh.
Lucy raises her diminutive hand palm-up. It looks so frail that it could snap at a touch.
Yet, it’s the necks of those who let their guard down before her that will be snapped.
With a mere clench of her hand, a surge of surrounding magic coalesces into one point.
– Boom!!
The intermediate fire magic ‘Point-Blank Explosion’ hits Clevius squarely, sending him flying as he spits blood. Then the high-level lightning magic ‘Heavenly Punishment’ crashes down upon him.
– Boom! Crack!
It’s lightning in its purest form, except infused with the vast power of Lucy’s magic.
Clevius, barely regaining consciousness, assumes a defensive stance, but the attack is far beyond any feasible defense. Though he manages to divert the attack partially, the cumulative damage had long exceeded his limits.
For Lucy to execute such magic against an opponent is the highest honor she could bestow.
Most students are not even worth Lucy Mayrill spending the effort to optimize her magical efficiency with elemental magic.
Most would perish instantly to the high-level magic she wields. Yet Lucy sensed it deep within: this adversary wouldn’t fall to such attacks.
Clevius rises through the swirling smoke, his uniform tattered like rags and his body so injured that uninjured spots are hard to find — but he pays it no mind.
His movements are too fast for the eye. Only the debris kicked up in his wake hints at his whereabouts.
– Clang!!
When Lucy turns and extends her hand, thinking to have located him, Clevius’s sword is already at the end of her reach.
But a giant defensive magic circle rises between them.
– Screech, screech!
The trembling sword blade.
Clevius’s body had reached its limit.
Pressing the sword against the barrier, Clevius grits his teeth, pushing with force. With a crunchy sound of grinding teeth, cracks start to form in the barrier.
Ragged face visible through the splitting defense, his visage is more covered in blood than skin. The blood, mixed with rain, streams down from his temples and forehead.
Despite his body being a wreck, his eyes burn with undaunted spirit, as crimson as the rest of him.
– Clang!
The defensive magic of Lucy breaks apart. It’s a sight difficult to believe, even seen with one’s own eyes. Lucy’s hastily constructed defense could withstand even significant high-level magic.
– Bang! Crackle!
Perhaps as a consequence, the blade in Clevius’s hand snaps in half as well. Yet the remaining half is still sharp.
– Snap!
Incredibly fast spell casting. Three intermediate ice magic ‘Ice Spears’ pierce his abdomen, but Clevius bites down hard, refusing to change his stance.
The broken blade thrusts towards Lucy’s forehead.
– Clang!
Of course, it fails to penetrate her skin. Apart from the defensive circle, there’s a separate ‘Basic Defense Magic’ enveloping Lucy’s body.
Moreover, the ‘Blessing of the Storm’ activates periodically, making solo penetration an impossibility.
“Seriously, what the hell…!!! Freak…!!”
– Whirrr!
Again thrown back by the blessing’s force, Clevius rises to his feet. He grabs a sword dropped by a student trapped in a ‘Time Prison’ nearby.
The drawn weapon is sharp. Though his usual blade is broken, he wields the half with a reverse grip in his left hand for defense.
He advances back into range with two and half swords, not slowing despite the increase in wounds.
Blood sprays with each movement, the bleeding accelerates, making the term ‘blood-soaked’ an understatement for his condition. It’s surprising just how much blood a human body can hold.
Those who face Lucy all share a common image.
It’s akin to facing a towering Mount Tai with just a single sword. Is this what it feels like to stand before such an insurmountable force?
Yet after being struck by several more magic bullets and intermediate wind magic, he falls, only to rise again through the thick dust like a zombie.
Death itself was non-existent to him; he was the incarnation of a berserker besotted with bloodshed. One would think that the odds were so stacked against him that continuing the fight would be pointless, yet ignorance wasn’t what drove him to rise once more.
The memory of the day he stabbed his brother surged back into his mind—
Despite the Clevius family being scorned as specters and looked down upon by their own clan, he had been the one who always acknowledged and supported Clevius until the very end.
Lost in his rage, he had mutilated his brother, and by the time he regained his senses, his sword was already plunged into his sibling’s solar plexus.
As he gritted his teeth to endure the excruciating pain, his brother’s dying words, still imprinted in his memory, were…
– “It’s a relief it was me you killed and not someone else.”
How absurd those final words seemed, shed between the weeping bloodstreams.
– “At least I can forgive you.”
– “So don’t carry too much… guilt.”
The acclaimed swordsman who was rumored to herald the Nortondale family’s second golden age had died such a futile death, with those parting words being all that he left behind.
The rain strikes the world impartially.
The dreary sky looked the same no matter where one looked up at it in Acken Island.
As if the battle in the rose garden meant nothing, the grim sight of fluttering raindrops was the same everywhere, even outside the grand and opulent windows of the royal residence.
Claire had just reported the anomaly at Ophelius Hall to Princess Phoenia, who was gazing out the window at the rain.
Shrouded in smoke, Clevius screamed with renewed fury and leaped forward. He gathered the remaining magic of his blood sword art to shatter Lucy’s defensive circle, though it seemed to hold little importance.
Lucy’s reflexes also lay beyond the ordinary. Tipping her hat slightly forward, she dodged lightly and plunged a couple of wind blades into Clevius’s flesh. A new stream of blood danced in the air.
The rain fell just as impartially over the faculty quarters, occasionally startling people with thunderclaps. It was quite a downpour indeed.
Assistant Professor Claire, sitting in the staff on-duty room, frowned upon hearing the news from Ophelius Hall.
Professor Flurban had been out to the northern cliffs for an investigation. Looking out at the relentless rain, Assistant Professor Claire found herself momentarily lost in thought. The spray from the fountain in the faculty courtyard rose like mist.
Clevius tumbled on the drenched ground before rising again. Crossing his two swords, he assumed a low stance and launched an attack that was too quick for the eye to see.
A thunderous noise that seemed too immense to be from a sword erupted, sending marble shards exploding outward from the center where Lucy stood—a high-level technique unique to the Nortondale family, almost like an explosion. Naturally, Lucy remained unscathed.
The assault of rain against the windows of Ophelius Hall was relentless. The torrent tried to pry open the luxurious window frames.
Having completely overpowered Wade, Zix escaped the corridor with Tanya. The hallways of Ophelius were near silent, devoid of people.
If he could just get Tanya out of Ophelius Hall, he could prevent the situation from escalating further. With that thought, Zix quickly led Tanya toward the back exit.
But at the end of the hallway, where the rain beat against the windows, stood a girl, still as a statue.
He recognized her as a student from Ophelius Hall, still remaining despite the situation—
Lortelle Keheln.
The young merchant girl stood alone at the end of the corridor, not having sought refuge.
Clevius’s assault was far from over. With inhuman speed, he darted amid the debris of giant marble shards surrounding Lucy. Seizing his moment, he gathered all the magic of his blood sword art for a decisive blow.
An ice spear struck his shoulder as he lunged, nearly overcoming him. Gritting his teeth, he used what remained of his broken sword to strike at Lucy’s protective magical circle.
– Kagaang!
With a force beyond imagination, Lucy’s barrier shattered once more.
Yet the outcome exceeded expectations.
Was it divine intervention, impressed by his relentless assault on Lucy’s protective magic without a hint of fear for his life?
-Kaang! Kagaang!
The sword in his right hand exploded into fragments, and he momentarily pierced through Lucy’s defensive magic, however unlikely it seemed.
Lucy’s ability to sense magic was phenomenal, and reconstructing her defense system only required an instant.
The duration… perhaps a hundredth of a second, or even less.
But even a momentary lapse was more than enough time for a sword demon to plunge his blade.
He had no proper weapons left, one shattered to pieces, the other half-broken. Yet, against an adversary who, despite genius, possessed the physical capacity of just a young girl—on an incomplete strike, it could be fatal.
– Whoosh!
“…Guh… ahk!”
Lucy’s pupils shook violently. The moment had ended.
Staggering back, she clutched at her shoulder.
From her right deltoid across the center of her chest…
The slender line of fresh blood widened, soaking her clothes with the crimson flow.
…Regrettably, that scene never unfolded.
The difference was slight, but Lucy’s defenses had prevailed.
*
– Paang!!
His last sword shattered. Clevius fell to the enchantment of a reflexively cast magic bullet.
“Cuh… Hah… X-damn…! What a monster…!”
Battered and embedded in the center of the rose garden, Clevius tried to push himself up, the blood caking his form, struggling to stand.
But his body had long since reached its limits. His legs no longer obeyed him.
Lucy… paused, skimming her shoulder with confused eyes for a moment.
The harrowing possibility of what could have happened loomed before her like an apparition.
For a moment, she had truly faced the risk of being cut down.
The perilous sensation of a blade’s edge was not something that Lucy, who had lived a life among the strongest, could easily grow accustomed to.
Regaining composure, Lucy looked down at Clevius once again.
“Yeek… Yick…! Damn… paang…!!!”
Clevius struggled to rise, but propping himself up with one arm was all he could manage.
Unscathed, Lucy approached steadily, gathering magic in her hand as she stood over the defeated Clevius.
Clevius finally allowed his body to relax.
He had known how this confrontation would end. What wealth and glory compelled him to resist to such extremes was beyond even his understanding.
He let everything go and closed his eyes.
To have survived so disgracefully only to meet an end like this. How shameful and foolish until the very end.
With that final thought, he managed to release it all…
– Whoosh! Thump!
The object that flew was an arrow.
The arrow, made of magic, instantly created a vast pool of water, from which a mid-ranking water spirit, the ferocious ‘Lioness Lacya’, leapt out, shielding Clevius and Lucy.
Grunting fiercely, the appearance of the mid-ranking water spirit was intimidating.
Confounded by the situation, Clevius and Elvira, who had barely regained consciousness in the corner, looked toward the direction from which the arrow came.
At the entrance to the rain-soaked rose garden stood a man holding a bow similar to the one Lucy had—a large robe pulled deeply over his head, so worn and frayed that the edges were jagged.
The sight, akin to a ghost resurrected from the dead, left no choice but to swallow dryly in apprehension.
