Granard was slammed into the floor with all his might, spilling blood everywhere and rolling over and over in bounces.

“Ugh, ....gghhhh, ....gghh, ....gghh!”

When Granard finally stopped, he lay on his back and groaned in pain.

Granard was hit with a jet-black slash, but apparently it was not fatal.

He crawled on the floor, gasping for air, and tried to sit up with his hands on the floor.

But the damage had left him weak and he was still on all fours, shaking his limbs.

“Well, you’re stronger than I thought you’d be. I must have cut it rather hard.”

Raidorl murmured admiringly and landed on his feet from his jumping position on the ceiling.

He swung his sword lightly to shake the blood from the blade and turned to his brother, who was crawling some distance away.

“Is that the power of the magic sword of light? About as quick as Célia and I’m a bit on edge.”

In spite of his words, Raidorl’s expression was full of comfort.

He could have easily taken Granard’s head off if he had gone after him, but he stood there without daring to make any more attacks.

It was a gesture that could have been taken as carelessness or pride. Raidorl dares to speak to Granard in an officious manner.

“If I had fought with you before I fought with Célia on that battlefield, I might have a harder time. It’s the misfortune and adversity that makes us grow, not the happiness and comfort. I’m reminded of that again.”

Once, in a war with the Empire, Raidorl went toe-to-toe with Célia Von Althlein.

At that time, due to the confusion caused by the surprise attack on the enemy’s position, Raidorl were able to win the war, but he had a hard time with the lightning fast Célia.

The battle made him realise the dangers of relying on sight alone. Since then, he has trained himself to fight by intuition and by sensing the presence of his opponent.

“I’ve had Célia accompany me on a few training sessions ....and apparently it’s not in vain.”

He also had several mock battles with Célia? when he was staying in the capital and working as an adventurer.

Since Granard’s order to go to the eastern border region, Raidorl has been training his mind to deal with the ‘speedsters’.

He hadn’t expected to see the fruits of his training against Granard, but the mere fact that he was able to contest with his brother, makes Granard no longer a threat to him.

“Brother, your sword is very dull.”

“Kh, .... what, ....!”

“The power of the sword does not improve your technique, no matter how much you increase your speed. Your sword is very monotonous and easy to read. If I had my eyes closed, I’d be able to dodge them.”

“sh.....!””

“There is no way that Neimilia and Célia can be defeated by a sword of this calibre. If you have any trump cards left, get them out quickly.”

Raidorl thrusts the tip of his sword at Granard, who crawls on his haunches, his eyes wide open.

“[I’ll cut you down and deny you everything] – that’s what you said. Killing a small fry who hasn’t shown his strength is no fun at all. My anger won’t stop until I’ve crushed you head-on with all my might”

It’s not just about killing. Now, Raidorl wanted an overwhelming victory. Overwhelming his brother, a defeat that will never be erased from his soul.

If he hadn’t done it, Raidorl would never have been able to let go of the humiliation of being betrayed five years ago, or the outrage of having his own woman taken hostage.

“You think you can afford ....? You still think less of me after all this time!”

Granard, who had finally succeeded in catching his breath, gritted his teeth and shouted angrily.

Granard knew what he was doing. He knew that Raidorl hadn’t really gone serious yet. He rolled himself to the floor in a relaxed state.

He tried to kill his younger brother with all his might, but he’s been beaten back, and now he’s forfeiting his chance to win.

With the magic sword in his hand, he thought he had ascended to the heights of equality with Raidorl. But the desperate fact that he is still being looked down upon, cuts Granard’s spirit mercilessly.

“Don’t....disrespect me!　Don’t you dare underestimate me!”

Granard rises, fueled by anger, and raises his sword above his head.

“If that’s what you want to see, I’ll show you!　I will show you the power of a true king, the great power of the goddess!”

A moment later, a dazzling flash of light envelopes Granard’s body.

“Mu....!”

Raidorl frowned slightly, but immediately released the black miasma from his Dáinsleif to guard against the light that was about to burn his retinas.

The flash of light covered the throne room for only a few seconds.

As soon as the light disappeared, Granard’s changed appearance came into view.

“Magic armour – Metatron, protector of the throne!”

Granard wears white armour on his body, and the magic sword in his hand has been transformed into a long, thin spear. There is no sign of damage as he stomps resolutely on the floor with both legs, his wounds having been healed by Raidorl.

“Ho.... this is a big deal ....!”

Raidorl was not so surprised, though he let out an exclamation of admiration.

If the magic sword was an imitation of the holy sword, then he was prepared for the holy armor to be comparable to the holy sword’s inner workings.

Therefore, this development is to be expected....What is not satisfactory is the ease with which Granard has mastered the technique.

It is not clear what criteria the witch used to select Granard and give him the magic sword.

Still, it was hard to accept that Granard had reached the same heights as Emperor Zacharias, whom Raidorl had lost a duel to.

“Hmm?”

But Raidorl’s doubts were soon put to rest.

Granard’s face was clearly changing as he activated his magic armour.

“My brother....his face is....”

Granard’s face was clearly marked with dark wrinkles, which were more numerous than before. The pigment on his head had also clearly worn off, making him look a decade older than he was.

“I see. .... That’s the price of a magic sword.”

Raidorl guess, by borrowing the power of the magic sword, Granard would lose his youth and life span as the price.

The reason why Granard did not use his magic armour until he was cornered was probably because he was afraid of paying the price.

“Raidorl, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!”

“....It’s not just youth he’s losing, maybe he’s losing his sanity too.”

The sight of his old brother screaming like a madman made Raidorl wince.

It was a horrible sight for a man who called himself ‘the true king’, but the power he felt in Granard was real.

An overwhelming rush of power. A sense of intimidation that makes it hard to even stand. A dense, crushing murderous intent is hurled at Raidorl from the front.

“This time it’s over! Get out of my sight!”

“Ooh ....?”

Countless balls of light appeared around Granard, who was clad in magic armour.

Dozens or hundreds of light bullets, each containing as much magic as Raidorl’s slash, are shot out simultaneously as a beam of light.

It was like a tidal wave of overwhelming mass. In an instant, it seemed impossible to defend against or even avoid.

Even if Raidorl were to unleash his most powerful move, “The Doomsday Serpent”, it would be impossible to cancel it out.

“Kh....”

However, even in the face of such an absolutely inevitable death, there is no hint of impatience on Raidorl’s face.

With a calm and composed expression on his face, he held his Dáinsleif at the bottom and closed his eyes.