Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- Vol. 19 Read online

  “No need to worry about me. More importantly, what do you say? You could kill all of us here and be left without any clues, or I can lead you to your hero in exchange for our safety. What would you prefer?”

  “Hmm…”

  Batenkaitos remained docile as Otto brought the focus back to negotiations in an attempt to guide the conversation. Despite the terrifying aura Batenkaitos projected, the fact that he entertained this dialogue at all seemed to prove he had a trace of childish naivete. And that imbalance made him all the more unsettling.

  Perhaps he never wanted to become such a monstrous creature and had just been a poor boy who—

  “—You just thought we’re pitiful, didn’t you?”

  “Eh?”

  Just as Otto allowed himself a brief sentimental moment, Batenkaitos’s expression suddenly changed. All traces of boyishness disappeared, leaving his eyes hollow and emotionless. Otto could almost swear they were licking his soul.

  “That’s a look we’ve seen before. When people look down on us. Make fun of us. Belittle us. Treat us like merchandise… Ahhh, that’s why something smelled off.”

  The emptiness in Batenkaitos’s eyes transformed into roaring hatred. Otto’s throat froze as he felt goose bumps rising all over his body.

  “You’re a merchant, aren’t you? One of those people who fattens themselves by putting prices on things and selling them to others. The kind who’s blindly obsessed with assigning numbers to people and their feelings, offering up anything and everything for gold!”

  “That’s… I fear there might be some minor misconception at play.”

  Doing his best to not let his fear show in his voice, Otto furiously thought about how to deal with this dangerous new development. He’d already been walking a tightrope over a gorge, and now it felt like a blindfold had been slipped over his eyes partway through.

  Whether he could make it across safely would come down to timing and luck. On second thought, his fate was probably in the hands of the person holding the other end of the rope. Unfortunately, that person’s mood had just taken a turn for the worse.

  “Argh, damn it! You think you can trick us?! Nice try! Who’s going to listen to anything you people have to say?! In the end, gluttony is all there is in this world! Gluttony! Until we get to eat, suck, slurp, lick, gnaw, and swallow, we won’t believe a thing!”

  “Ha! This was the only way it could’ve turned out.”

  Batenkaitos was visibly trembling as he howled, but Felt just snorted in annoyance. While she seemed totally unfazed by his alarming behavior, Otto felt a chill run down his back. He watched as she drew the short sword at her hip and dropped into a practiced stance.

  “Ummm, can you fight, Lady Felt?”

  “Don’t even think about telling me to hang back just ’cause I’m a girl. I don’t trust anyone with my life. I’ll decide for myself. I’m the master of my fate.”

  Felt was spirited as she readied herself for combat. Her show of determination was a far cry from her companion, Gaston, whose blood had drained from his face. He didn’t look like he could be relied on to provide much help in an imminent fight, and he seemed more like a mascot than anything else. Sort of like a Subaru who was unreliable in a pinch.

  “When you put it that way, he doesn’t come off very well, does he…?”

  In any case, people who are obviously prepared to fight have more options than a bunch who seem timid and uncertain.

  Batenkaitos looked toward Felt, then the White Dragon’s Scale, and then Otto, drool dripping from his long tongue all the while.

  “Are you just about ready? When it comes to gourmet food, preparation and ingredients are crucial. It only starts to have value once you’ve gathered quality ingredients!”

  “I suppose that makes a sort of sense…”

  “It’s quite all right if you don’t understand! We don’t have any interest in explaining our aesthetics! Now, I suppose it’s just about time—let’s dig in!” Batenkaitos opened his mouth wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth as he launched himself toward Otto. Apparently, he had decided on his first course during their conversation.

  Standing on the edge of the water, Otto pointed his finger at the profane being charging straight at him.

  “In negotiations with a merchant, you should always listen to the very end—because they’re bound to have a card up their sleeve.”

  “Huh?”

  “Call it insurance!”

  Otto audibly clicked his heels twice as Batenkaitos’s brow furrowed in suspicion.

  At his signal, the water behind him swelled, as if something drew it toward him.

  “—!!!”

  And then a swarm of water dragons burst from the canal, biting into Batenkaitos’s limbs before flying into a frenzy.

  2

  “That female sword master is my wife, the previous Sword Saint.”

  As the two of them made their way to their assigned control tower, Garfiel felt something like a cold grip close around his heart.

  Wilhelm, the man called the Sword Devil, was a living legend who had already left a lasting mark on the kingdom’s history.

  Stories of him and his Sword Saint wife were loved by countless people and were still recounted everywhere.

  Because of those stories, Wilhelm’s circumstances struck a chord within Garfiel. The fact that Wilhelm was forced to reunite with his wife as enemies made it all the worse.

  “From what I heard, the previous Sword Saint was done in by the White Whale…”

  “I have avenged that particular transgression. However, it seems our enemies have toyed with my wife’s corpse, violating her soul and forcing her to turn her sword on those who she once strove to protect.”

  “”

  “It is utterly unforgivable.”

  The older man kept his eyes trained forward, leaving Garfiel speechless at the quiet edge to his voice.

  What should I say to him as a fellow man? What can I say? The hell do you say to a man whose beloved wife’s been screwed over from beyond the grave, forced to do harm with her blade against her wishes?

  “I…”

  Meanwhile, Garfiel carried his own burden that he couldn’t bring himself to share.

  There was someone who had protected Garfiel and got a sword in the chest for their troubles. The one who had dealt this devastating blow was none other than the woman whom Wilhelm said was his wife. Mimi was still teetering on the brink of death at that very moment, and the only way to save her was to defeat the very same swordswoman who bore the reaper’s blessing.

  As the person who Mimi saved, Garfiel intended to fulfill that duty no matter what.

  “I won’t ask you to leave this fight to me. However, it is necessary you understand just how powerful these opponents are. The Sword Saint and Eight-Arms…though I doubt their strength can be compared to when they were alive.”

  “…You think they’re stronger?”

  “No, the opposite—they are far from their prime.”

  Garfiel was not sure how to feel when Wilhelm shook his head.

  The young brave had already faced the two corpse warriors once. Not only had he lost to both, but now it turned out neither was as strong as they used to be.

  Garfiel loved the stories and legends of heroes. He respected those people who had left their mark on history.

  Can I win against the same legends I always looked up to? Can I actually beat them in a real fight?

  “—Sir Garfiel.”

  “Yeah.”

  He stopped moving when Wilhelm called his name. From up ahead was a presence so intense and overwhelming that it caused goose bumps.

  To the front, he could see there were shadows waiting for them on the road that led to the entrance of the tall control tower. One enormous, one slender, and—

  “A monstrous form. That must be the Archbishop of Lust.”

  There was an abnormally swollen figure that writhed as it filled the street. It was hard to see clearly in the moo
nlight, but there was no mistaking its anomalous presence.

  They had heard about Lust’s hideous ability from Subaru.

  Rubbing the two silver shields on his arms against each other, Garfiel quietly steeled himself.

  He had plenty of reasons to hate Lust. This cultist was the source of the corpse soldier who had wounded Mimi, and it was Lust’s power that had transformed so many of the city’s residents into abominations. And one of the victims who had taken on the shape of a black dragon was a man named Galek Thompson. The man who married Garfiel’s mother after she lost her memories. The man who Garfiel’s new siblings called Father.

  How badly would they be hurt to find out that their beloved father and husband had been robbed of his human form? This had become more than personal for Garfiel. That was why—

  “You gonna regret comin’ out here like Olegren sitting by the fire.”

  Garfiel banged his fists together as he glared at Lust and the corpse soldiers under her command. Beside him, Wilhelm lowered his hand to the sword at his waist. All traces of warmth had disappeared from his eyes.

  Every last strand of Garfiel’s hair stood on end when he looked over at Wilhelm, who seemed keen as any blade. Noticing his glance, Wilhelm nodded ever so slightly.

  Then—

  “—Ngh!”

  Garfiel and Wilhelm both launched themselves forward at the exact same time.

  The stone pavement exploded from the force of the Sword Devil’s charge. Staying low to the ground, he closed the distance in the blink of an eye. In front of him, there was a flash of silver.

  Their enemies were two sword masters and a disfigured beast. There was no hesitation in Wilhelm’s sword as he swung at the slender woman.

  There was another silvery flash, and a loud clang echoed in the night sky as the smaller sword master’s slim blade diverted Wilhelm’s beautiful first strike. It was a feat of genius, making the swords look like they were dancing. However, Wilhelm had not been aiming to take her head.

  The gale unleased by the force of the sword threw back the hood of the slender fighter, revealing what lay hidden beneath.

  “”

  Frozen blue eyes and a face so charming that a word as simple as beauty failed to fully capture it. Long, tied-back fiery-red hair flowed out behind her. This was the legend among legends—

  “—Theresia.”

  An indescribable fury crossed Wilhelm’s features as he laid eyes on her youthful form.

  Paying no heed to the deeply distressed old swordsman—her husband—Theresia nimbly positioned herself to harry Wilhelm with her own attack. Controlling her long sword like it was an extension of her body and precisely aiming for her opponent’s vital points, she was truly like a reaper. Legends said she had personally slain a thousand demi-humans, and they were no exaggeration.

  But if those legends were true, then—

  “—Raaaaaah!”

  It almost seemed like a raging tornado had suddenly appeared as a sword batted aside Theresia’s attack. The one who managed this feat was none other than the Sword Devil who had defeated the Sword Saint in a duel and claimed her hand in marriage. Wilhelm immediately suppressed the distress that had shown on his face just a moment ago and committed himself to the battle as nothing more than a swordsman.

  Even if he was no longer in his prime, he still stood near the pinnacle of those who lived by the blade. It was almost as if this was a replay of the legendary match that decided who would lay claim to the summit of all swordcraft.

  “And I sure as hell won’t let anything get in the way of that.”

  “”

  Instead of thoughtlessly joining the fray, Garfiel zigzagged toward the towering man at high speed.

  Unlike Wilhelm, who had charged straight at his enemy, Garfiel was using the walls of the buildings surrounding them to move in three dimensions and attack from an unconventional angle.

  If he tried anything less, his fangs and claws would never reach the enemy. That was simply how great his legendary foe was.

  “Eight-Arms Kurgan—!”

  As Garfiel roared, four massive arms appeared from Kurgan’s billowing cloak to meet him head-on. Those burly, log-like arms stopped Garfiel’s attack even though he could hit hard enough to shatter whole boulders. The force of the impact alone cratered the road beneath them.

  Judging by the feeling in his own arms, Garfiel could tell he was in top condition and his head was in the game.

  Completely unfazed by his initial failure, he immediately followed up by unleashing a flurry of attacks, attempting to make up for his lack of additional arms with pure momentum.

  “Urrraaaaaaaaagh!”

  Fists, claws, kicks, fangs—he rained blows down on Kurgan from every possible angle.

  Seeing gashes appear on Kurgan’s blue skin and blood starting to flow, Garfiel knew for a fact his attacks were not in vain.

  They were connecting. They were working. Garfiel’s claws could reach the legendary warrior, Eight-Arms.

  Forget the rush of battle and anything else that interferes with your concentration. Shut out all the noise. Pour everything into this one life-and-death moment and become a tiger—otherwise, you’ll die.

  “Oooooooooooo!”

  Roaring like a beast as he swung wildly, Garfiel took aim at the enemy’s throat.

  —Garfiel was plagued by idle thoughts.

  Ram had pointed it out to him before. He let his mind wander too much when he was fighting. He was always worrying about something or another, even though he wasn’t particularly good at figuring things out.

  Like the way he yielded the battle against the bearer of the reaper’s blessing to Wilhelm despite not discussing it beforehand. Or the fact that in the middle of this fight with the Archbishop of Lust, he was worried about his mother, who had lost her memory. He also worried about his half brother and half sister. He even fretted over Subaru and Otto, wondering if they were safe even though they were so much stronger than him.

  Can a weakling like me who got scared of Reinhard really save Mimi?

  He desperately tried to drive those thoughts from his mind and focus on the battle in front of him. But what was the difference between thinking about something and actively trying to not think about it?

  And the moment those swirling thoughts distracted him, Garfiel got thrown clear by an enormous arm.

  “Gargh.”

  His eyes shot wide open as the air left his lungs and his body was sent flying.

  But that wasn’t the end of it. A crushing blow from above slammed him into the stone pavement. As Garfiel coughed up blood from the impact, a foot came crashing down onto his face.

  His nose was crushed by the blow delivered in absolute silence. The blood now streaming from his nose blurred his vision and made it difficult to breathe. Then he was kicked up into the air, where he was pummeled mercilessly again and again and again.

  “Gh, gah…gho?!”

  His vision grew red. He didn’t even have a chance to catch his breath. There were literally no openings in the deluge of attacks unleashed by eight different arms. Garfiel was being toyed with like a pathetic rag doll.

  Throughout this whole ordeal, his opponent didn’t say a word as he mercilessly punished Garfiel with all eight of his giant fists.

  “”

  Just silence. No warrior’s pride, no solemn resolve of someone heading into battle. If this is just a fraction of the strength he had when he was still alive, then what the hell does that make me?

  Garfiel’s expression contorted in shame as more stray thoughts filled his head.

  “Graaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  That was when one of his fangs tore into Kurgan’s wrist, leaving a deep gash on one of the arms that was pummeling him. As a spray of black blood hit him, Garfiel tried to press his counterattack.

  “—Gugh.”

  Garfiel’s eyes widened as the cloak fell away, caught in his mouth. The enormous body hidden beneath was now perfectly visible.

>   His opponent was big enough to rival a giant. From the neck up, he practically looked like a demon. The eight arms that earned him the title God of War were spread wide.

  In addition to the standard set of arms, there was another pair sprouting from his shoulders, one pair extending from his sides, and a final pair that grew from his back. Every hand was open, palms facing forward.

  This was Eight-Arms Kurgan, the imposing warrior who had been born to fight. Seeing that obvious display of strength didn’t raise Garfiel’s spirits—it crushed them.

  He felt no excitement at getting a chance to stand before a warrior of myth and legend. All he felt was fear.

  It was a nightmare. Like a never-ending nightmare that had been eating away at his heart ever since yesterday.

  “Aaaaaaaah!”

  It almost felt like the scene unfolding in front of him had suddenly exploded. That was when Garfiel realized that he was standing still.

  I can’t be jerkin’ around like this. The hell do I think he is? I already made my choice.

  “This ain’t the time to be stupid—”

  Gritting his teeth, he bit the inside of his cheek hard. He came to his senses as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

  Kurgan was standing there with dignity, looking at Garfiel.

  “What’s the point of bein’ here if I’m just gonna get scared now?! Boss! Bro! Everyone waitin’ for me! All I’m good for is fightin’!”

  He howled. Even if it was fake courage, all he could do was use what he had.

  Holding his ground, he pulled strength from the earth itself. With the power of his blessing, his broken bones reconnected, and his shattered face knitted itself back together. Then Garfiel took a step forward.

  The next instant, he unleashed an attack with all his strength, as if willing it to become the signal for his counterattack. His arms groaned as the swelling power of the earth converged on a single point. When released, it had enough destructive force to level an entire building and even blow out one of the canals.

  He used that power to drive his silver shields straight into the legend in front of him. His arms shot forward toward Kurgan’s chest and—