The location of the abandoned factory was on the outskirts of the holy city. According to the informant, Karen was still clinging to life, and the enemy was lingering there as if to lure someone out.

What could their intention be? Was it a trap aimed at Cissel?

If so, it would mean that Karen was kidnapped because she associated with him. Just thinking about it made his heart ache. To repay kindness with enmity.

This story cannot end like this. At the very least, Karen must survive. No matter what the culprit demands…

Cissel entered the building fully armed.

Inside, there was a short figure wearing a hood and Karen, sitting stiffly as if bound by invisible magic, frozen in place. She looked at Cissel as if she couldn’t believe it.

At that gaze, Cissel felt a deep relief in his chest. There were no visible injuries, and although her complexion was pale, she seemed to be okay. She was alive.

She was truly alive.

“Karen, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine… I’m fine! Kya?!”

Despite the joy of reunion, Karen was being pulled into the darkness of the abandoned factory as if by an invisible hand. Chisel immediately raised his Zweihänder.

“…What have you done to Karen?!”

“Huh, that’s what I want to ask. I was the one being threatened—no, I was the one doing the threatening. Trying to get your information, you know. I put in a lot of effort to lure you here.”

“……..”

Her voice and mouth movements didn’t match. And neither did her expression.

The figure of the villain spat out words with a thoroughly displeased expression.

“You should not become a champion of the tournament. The same goes for the other misfits. The holy sword must be in our hands.”

“So… you killed innocent participants and kidnapped Karen.”

“I didn’t expect you to give up on the finals for a friend… but it works out. Now you will become the last victim of a serial murder case, and our grand scheme will be nearing completion.”

The fact that he boasted about his plan meant he had no intention of leaving the listener alive. As proof, the villain before him was brandishing a mace.

He had to fight and win. If he couldn’t win, the villain would kill Karen and disappear without a trace. Just like that.

His own ‘glory’ lay right before him.

It was time to stake his life.

——–

What could be the aim of this farce?

Does the witch wish for a clash between the Redburn family and the royal family? Or is that merely a stepping stone for a deeper scheme? Or is there a cunning plan that a normal human could never even conceive?

He couldn’t even guess. If there was one hypothesis he could come up with, it might be that she called Chisel here due to her own lack of combat ability. There had been records of her sustaining serious injuries in her encounter with Roderus.

But if that were the case, wouldn’t her close relationship with the second prince allow her to simply call him without such theatrics? There would be no need for the knight to wear such a desperate expression.

There had to be a hidden agenda. Yet, he couldn’t see through it. No matter how many times he thought about it, a certain part of it felt like a suspicious contradiction.

“Tsk.”

He admitted it. He couldn’t understand.

Since he couldn’t understand, it was now time to confront her with sheer strength.

As the witch Karen said, Faceless is a “Puppeteer,” but that was merely to follow the grand strategy of her father, who loved to remain hidden.

She had never once avoided a fight.

Swoosh.

Faceless’s flesh puppet drew a mace from its waist. It was a deliberately crude object, resembling a metal club, with no clues to identify its maker.

As the puppet took its battle stance, Chisel also prepared his lower stance and approached.

The difference in their heights and weaponry was clear.

Faceless measured the height of the doll with a glance. This “puppet” had been made small for the sake of concealment, standing at about 150 cm tall. There was a difference of roughly two heads compared to Cissel.

Was that all? The mace and greatsword had different reaches as well. The large zweihänder became even more threatening when one was on the receiving end.

Moreover, weight is power. With that small frame and the mace, it would be difficult to withstand a blow delivered by the weight of the greatsword…

I wonder if it’s thinking that?

Faceless moved the doll and grinned.

“My father loves power. I was curious, even though you already have so much power… why did you still desire a little more? Do you know the reason, Cissel Yurensto?”

“I don’t know what you did to Karen, but I will collect the price with that neck of yours.”

“I think I’m starting to understand. It’s precisely to confront the inevitable unknown.”

Life has far more unknowns than knowns. In a world where a single person can bring down a castle, there is only one way to protect oneself from external threats that one does not know.

Crack. Crunch.

An unpleasant sound emanated from the doll’s entire body.

It was not a single sound. It was a symphonic resonance reverberating throughout its body, and the noise was so varied that one could hardly pinpoint its source—yet it was clear that there was a thick smell of death.

And power surged forth.

“Limit Break, huh.”

If one could manipulate their body at will, it would be simple to release various safety mechanisms for survival. Just that alone would exponentially increase the short-term efficiency of the human body.

With a force strong enough to tear muscles, widening the range of motion to the point of damaging joints and ligaments, and moving without regard even if the body temperature cooked the brain cells.

It denies the design meant for survival and transforms it solely into a design meant for death. The moment one overlays magical power onto this, a mere puppet can temporarily secure physical capabilities comparable to those of a knight.

Even if it might not see the sun rise tomorrow morning.

This body, since it does not belong to me, can be burned without hesitation.

Additionally… the raw materials of this puppet I am currently manipulating are special products. It is not the body of a peasant who used to farm. Would I spare any cards when going to meet the wizard who launched the inheritance myth?

Of course.

The opponent is one of the two monsters produced by Yurensto, “The Knight of Crushing,” Cissel. I know well the power of her gravity sword. But that’s alright. In fact, it’s enjoyable.

If I can try multiple times, analyze delicately, and extract her information… in the end, it will be Redburn who wins. And rightly so.

There are plenty of spare cards.

Whew-!

The wooden floor of the abandoned warehouse was instantly crushed, leaving a small crater on the ground. With a sound like a rubber band snapping, Faceless leaped.

It was a speed that felt like being thrown from a catapult.

Swoosh-!

In an instant, it reached in front of Cissel. Its legs kicked off the ground, rising about 30 centimeters. This closed the height gap.

Faceless brought the mace down from above. With the sound of air being torn, the weight of the mace aimed for Cissel’s head.

The great sword is slow. How do you plan to block it?

Hoo-wung—! Ka-ang—!!

The zweihänder carves a refined trajectory from below to above. The great sword and mace clash in the air. The impact shakes the walls of the abandoned warehouse roughly, and dust falls in a shower.

It was an efficient performance that showcased the refined technique and trained body, like gears interlocking.

However, the strength is pushing back.

Ka-gak-gak-gak! With the sound of sparks, Shisel’s waist leans back, and his heels are pushed, leaving marks on the ground.

The relatively small mace is pressing down the great sword with sheer force.

“⋯⋯⋯⋯?!”

“You’re using a great sword, yet you’re the one being pushed back! Isn’t that right?!”

Mass is absolute. The light is pushed aside by the heavy.

“So I mixed it up, this body is two servings⋯⋯!!”

A 150cm short stature created by merging two well-trained wandering knights. It was literally muscle compressed to the limit, and despite its appearance, its weight was different.

Shisel judged swiftly. If it’s too much, he must let it slide.

Ka-gak—!

The blade and mace meet, and he moves his body around the point of contact. Metal shavings scatter as the mace glides, scraping the side of the blade.

And he momentarily takes his left hand off the handle. Clenching his fist, he swings it short, targeting the side of Faceless’s ribs. Thud. Crack.

The feeling of breaking five bones. The question of how five ribs could be clustered in that spot is a secondary concern.

“Khihihit, shall we exchange blows?”

“Are you not even going to pretend it hurts⋯⋯?!”

There is no expected reaction.

“After all, it’s someone else’s body! I thought you would honestly feel pain and honestly shrink back… Hah!”

Swish── Bang!!

“Ugh…!”

A kick that flew like a whip struck the side of the zweihänder. Despite clearly blocking it, the shock resonated through Shisel’s entire body, surpassing the metal.

Violence continues without giving any room. As if to crush him along with the shield, Faceless swung the mace repeatedly towards the blade. Relentlessly.

Bang—! Kwaang—!!

With the successive blows, Shisel’s ankle is buried.

No matter how skilled the master is at forging the zweihänder, receiving such repeated shocks would place a serious burden on it. The blade begins to bend and warp slightly.

Faceless aimed for that.

Shisel Yurenstora is not a knight whose strength lies in swordplay. It is solely in his prowess. If he can only cope with that monstrous spec’s prowess ability, victory belongs to Faceless.

That’s right. It’s a laughable kind of optimism. The idea that the Empire’s sword master could win without using his sword, or that the Tower Master could win without using magic, was no different from nonsense.

But.

“Uhwa, are you not going to use it?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

The last leaf is trembling. With only one strike left, Sisel’s hands were shaking with hesitation. Faceless grinned at the sight.

Kakang, Kaang-!!

A storm of iron rages. When the mace flies as if to shatter even the large shield, the Zweihänder can only hurriedly block it. Occasionally, when trying to counterattack by exploiting the openings in movement—

“Heaven’s Cut──!!”

“An arm? Fine, I’ll give you one.”

Screech—

The blade, expanded nearly threefold due to the layered magical power. A dazzling light exploded, splitting the roof of the abandoned warehouse in half. Caught in that fierce attack, the doll’s arm flew high into the sky.

“Spare.”

When she closed her eyes and opened them again, a new arm had already grown back. And coming in from the openings revealed by the attack, the mace flew. Sisel quickly pulled the Zweihänder to maintain her center line.

Since she said ‘two servings’, it seems she has a form of recovery ability until all her stored power is exhausted.

Kaaang-!!

She was forcefully pushed back. Sisel’s back hit the wall of the abandoned warehouse.

But Sisel had her own thoughts.

The opponent was clearly using an abnormal method of physical operation. If this dragged on into a long battle, it would surely break down. Even now, she couldn’t cool her body’s heat with mere beads of sweat, and it was cooking from the inside.

If she dragged it out, the enemy would eventually collapse from exhaustion. Then, perhaps she could save Karen without saying goodbye.

Faceless, drenched in cold sweat yet still moving normally, muttered.

“Was the rumor that you caught an illness true… I thought it was a lie. The peculiarity of the parrying technique here, the grotesque swordsmanship created by mixing various schools, even the habit of often pivoting on the right foot… is it enough yet?”

“Kuh, ugh…!”

“You must have thought of a long battle, right? It’s obvious. But between you and me, the one stronger in a long battle is—”

At the tip of the mace, a crimson magical power gathered. The color resembled flesh, as if a club made of meat was grotesquely writhing.

When Sisel also tried to concentrate her magical power to counterattack.

Shake.

From noble mtl dot come

An invisible lantern swayed.

Suddenly, one leg lost strength, causing her foot to slip, and coincidentally, the dust that fell scraped across her cornea. What bad luck. Terrible bad luck.

The Duke of Redburn, Maximus’s ability, ‘Foreknowledge Lantern’, had been activated.

Sending an endlessly replenishable army of meat dolls, establishing a long battle even against special strong foes, and relaying the information obtained to Duke Redburn to forcibly manipulate fate in real-time.

Infinite negative feedback spiraling in like a vortex. A strategy without weaknesses.

This was indeed the Redburn family’s “secret weapon.”

To the disheveled Cissel, an unavoidable strike from the Faceless comes flying in──.

——–

Time flows slowly.

A strike filled to the brim with death is approaching slowly.

To block that, to kill the Harbinger, to save Karen⋯⋯ I must write a fable.

In the end, it has come to this.

What if I had saved it just once, just that one time? I don’t regret using it when I had to. However, for that trivial ‘glory’⋯⋯ to refuse the help of my comrades and throw myself into the gate alone.

I could have saved it, yet for that insignificant glory, I threw away my life. I deeply regret it. That one time could have greatly changed the joy and sorrow of this very moment.

But regret is too late.

It is late.

If I must write a fable. If this moment is my last.

Then, gathering all this emptiness and sorrow, I will crush that b*stard and ensure that I can save Karen with a single strike──

——–

Cissel, that’s not the way.

I muttered to myself.

Many crossroads lay ahead for Cissel Yurensto. And the path she has chosen now is one that is quite peripheral. It is extreme.

That resolve is admirable, and it’s not bad at all⋯⋯.

But I wish for a little more happiness. And if she pushes the fable too far into extremes, she’ll truly become a time-limited self-destructing device. She won’t even be able to attend her own wedding.

Shall I lend a little help then?

Alright, let me clear my voice.

“Forged Succession Fable – ‘Gear: Narrator.'”

Narration.