Knights of La Mancha (3)
At the mont of collision, a thunderous roar erupted.
The ground shook, and the sound of space creaking and tearing rang out from all directions. That was only natural. This was a battlefield where dozens of stars were crashing into each other.
Two stories clashed on a single stage.
Two stories, two endings, and actors swinging spears and swords over which ending truly suited a play called La Mancha. On a stage where even laughter was drowned out by the blasts, Najin kicked off the ground.
He canceled an immortal army with an immortal army.
He canceled the Carnival King's narration with Sancho's narration.
Najin neutralized every sche the Carnival King had prepared to make him "certainly" lose. After all that, only one Constellation remained, the Star of Scorn.
"Uha, uhahahahahahahahaha!"
A Constellation charged at him, laughing wildly.
Najin had heard Quixote had lost one star before, but seven stars floated behind his back now. To him, the world was just a single play, and the Carnival King, narrator of that play, could grant Quixote stars whenever desired.
【La Mancha, on this stage where you are the protagonist, you can beco as strong as you wish. You return to that mont when you shone brighter than ever before!】
The eye of the Star of Scorn that the Helt Knight had taken was restored. The seven stars rising behind him blazed fiercely.
【Dulcinea is watching over you.】
【A knight always promises victory to his lady.】
【You do not lose.】
On the stage called La Mancha, Quixote could beco stronger without limit. Even though Najin had neutralized Quixote's strongest weapon, The Knights of La Mancha, the scale still tipped toward the Star of Scorn.
He had to defeat Quixote, the Star of Scorn.
On the stage where Quixote was the protagonist.
The instant he collided with the Star of Scorn, Najin felt his grip go numb. Heavy. It felt like the whole world was pressing down on him. He shook off that pressure and steadied his breathing.
'My opponent is Quixote, the Star of Scorn.'
Among all the Transcendents Najin had faced so far, this Constellation held the strongest stage. And the one supporting that stage was the Carnival King, a Constellation with eleven stars.
'On his stage, I have to beat the stage's protagonist.'
Of course it was difficult. Horribly difficult. But that was exactly why it was worth challenging.
The Star of Challenge shone.
Najin adjusted his grip on his sword and rushed in. The Star of Scorn pulled Rocinante's reins tight and charged straight at him.
"Run, Rocinante!"
Acceleration. An afterimage stretched behind the Star of Scorn's body. He shot forward like a single flash of light.
Swaaaaaaaash!
It was so fast even Najin's dynamic vision nearly missed it. He gave up on seeing and reacting. He raised his sword on instinct.
Kagagagagak!
The Star of Scorn scraped past the side of Excalibur. A beat later, the air-splitting noise and wind pressure from that charge slamd into Najin. Behind him ca a "Kwaang!" and the sound of a giant harpoon driving into the earth.
Fast. And it did not stop at one strike.
Hiiiiiing!
He heard the donkey snort. After a Lance Charge at that speed, there should have been an opening, but Rocinante, carrying the Star of Scorn, pivoted in place as if ignoring physics.
Then, bang!
It kicked off and launched again imdiately. Yes, "launched" fit better than "ran." Lance Charge was a killing strike for ordinary cavalry, but for the Star of Scorn, Lance Charge was no different from lightly swinging a sword.
Which ant he could chain it repeatedly.
In the ti Najin took one breath, Quixote made five charges. The charges ca as if to sever the space between breaths, and Najin moved with them.
His sword hand kept going numb. He could have lost his balance from the wind pressure exploding at every impact, but Najin planted his feet and endured.
'As expected, this is different.'
The Don Quixote he had faced in La Mancha had been incomplete. The opponent before him now was Quixote beyond even his pri. The difference in speed was on another level.
'But.'
Najin swallowed a breath. Matching the Star of Scorn's movent as he ca in to cut off his breathing, Najin kicked off the ground and drove toward him.
'You're not the only one who's changed.'
Najin had also reached Transcendence.
Back then, even borrowing the stars' power, all he could do was barely endure. Now, he could react to Don Quixote's movents without borrowing anyone's power.
Counterattack. Najin's sword rose from below and knocked away the Star of Scorn's lance tip. The Star of Scorn imdiately slid sideways in an arc, but Najin swung his blade sideways without even shifting his gaze, as if he had expected that exact move.
Riiip.
The flow broke. At the sa ti, Najin tightened his grip on his sword. Constellations flashed from the blade.
Sprouting, a bud opened.
Blossoming, a flower blood.
Full Bloom, petals scattered.
Eight stars flashed behind Najin. As if to seize that reversed flow and make it his own, Najin accelerated, and Quixote burst into laughter as he watched.
And then.
【You recall.】
【That glorious mont when you pierced the giant!】
The Star of Scorn's stage, the pages of the story called La Mancha, began to turn.
2.
La Mancha, the Star of Scorn's stage, was one story.
A play woven from the adventures he had lived.
Even before he beca the Star of Scorn, back when he was the Star of Mirth, he had used his stage like this.
【A ridiculous charge!】
【Yet that charge is fast.】
【Fast, and sharp.】
In an instant.
"...!"
Najin lost sight of the Star of Scorn's movent. By the ti he ca to, the Star of Scorn had already passed him.
【Your lance brushed the giant's leg. He happened to lift his foot at that exact mont.】
【But your lance definitely 'brushed' the giant's leg.】
Pop. Najin's calf burst open. His eyes went bloodshot. Excalibur's healing restored the wound right away, but the opponent would never waste those few seconds.
【Charge at the giant who lost his balance.】
【You pierce the fallen giant's head!】
Najin threw himself to the side in an ugly dive. Even if he had to roll on the ground, he had to evade. But when he saw Don Quixote's spear tip bend and track his head, he realized it.
Guaranteed Hit.
The "narration" ringing across the stage had turned the Star of Scorn's lance into an unavoidable lance. Evasion was impossible. Najin rolled to his feet and swung his sword.
Kaaaaang!
He blocked it with Excalibur, but his body slid far backward. He lost the flow he had seized. The one taking it back now was the Star of Scorn.
【You recall.】
The story page turned.
【That mont when you kicked off the Heaven-Wandering Star's whales, leaped from one, and drove your lance downward in that glorious strike from above!】
Paint splashed across the stage. The scattered paint beca whales, like rough doodles from a child. Whales appeared wherever Rocinante's hooves touched, and using them as footholds, the Star of Scorn leaped high into the sky.
Then, a star shone.
【You shot forth like a teor.】
Like a falling star, the Star of Scorn shot down diagonally from the sky. Wrapped in starlight as he descended, he looked exactly like a teor.
Evasion was impossible.
Najin gritted his teeth and set his stance. The Triumph Sword stance. Unfortunately, there was no opening to unleash a Triumph Sword ultimate. He answered with the fundantals of the Triumph Sword instead.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!
At the mont of impact, the surrounding area for dozens of ters caved in. As if a teor had struck, a massive crater ford. In the center of that crater, Najin clenched his teeth and poured everything into blocking the lance trying to pierce his body.
Chiiiiiiik.
Heat burned through him. The moisture in his body boiled.
"Rocinante, run, run, run!"
Don Quixote thrust his lance as if to crush Najin into the ground. The light bursting from his body grew stronger. Rocinante was kicking off empty air, but whales kept forming beneath every step, becoming ground for him.
Crack, krkrrk.
He was being crushed. He heard his bones splinter.
'This is what it ans to fight the protagonist of a stage.'
He had to feel it in his bones. Najin changed his thinking. Until he got "hit," that attack would not end.
'Then.'
Najin twisted his body. At the mont the Star of Scorn's lance brushed his ribs on its way to his heart, Najin accelerated.
He kicked off the ground. He swung his Sword Aura drawn to its limit.
At the mont the Star of Scorn's lance pierced Najin's body, Najin's rising sword cut through the Star of Scorn's shoulder.
Shraaaaaak!
Their strikes crossed, and Najin and the Star of Scorn passed through each other. Najin gripped his own gouged ribs, where bone was exposed. The Star of Scorn, laughing madly, fused his half-severed shoulder back together.
Splat.
Paint covered the Star of Scorn's body and repaired the wound. On this stage, the Star of Scorn could always return to perfect condition.
Compared to that, Najin...
Chiiiiik.
With a burning sound, flesh grew back. Not only from Excalibur's regeneration, but also because the narration "The Knights of La Mancha do not fall" had taken root in Najin's body too.
Even so, it was slow.
The spear ford from Sancho was disrupting regeneration. From the festering, rotting wound, little mouths appeared and leaked "kkal-kkal-kkal-kkal" laughter.
Shraak! Najin had to carve out the entire wound with his sword.
His body throbbed.
Excalibur's regeneration always demanded ntal strength and stamina. Najin steadied his breathing and raised his sword. Across from him, the Star of Scorn was turning the story's page yet again.
Swaaaaaaash!
He ca rushing in. Najin's eyes narrowed as he watched. How do I break this? On this stage, rlin could not help Najin. She had not been given a "role."
But she could still advise him.
-Calmly.
rlin's phantom gripped Najin's hand. Calming his mind, Najin traded attacks with the Star of Scorn. Pierced, cut, pierced again.
Kang, kaaaang!
Najin was enduring the Star of Scorn's stage correction with skill alone. But limits ca. As the battle turned into a war of attrition, Najin realized he would be the first one pushed back.
Pabababababak!
A chain of thrusting spear points. He knocked away dozens of straight lines, but two or three still grazed him. Mouths ford on the grazed skin and burst into "kkal-kkal!" laughter. These attacks contaminated the body and gnawed at the mind.
Even a graze had to be carved away.
In skill, Najin had the edge.
But the correction laid over this stage, the stage upheld by the Carnival King, was overwhelmingly strong. Najin could not unfold his own stage here.
"The Star of Scorn grows monstrously strong on his own stage."
"And with the Carnival King supporting that stage, on his own stage he's practically invincible."
"Ah, of course, I won."
"So you'll be able to win too."
The Helt Knight's voice echoed in his ears. When his teacher said he could just smash the stage in one blow, Najin had asked for a realistic thod instead.
And this was what the Helt Knight had answered.
As he turned that strategy over in his mind, Najin exhaled.
'Ti.'
He needed a little ti. If he had just a little ti to steady his body and observe his opponent, he could find an answer.
'More than anything, what keeps bothering is those Star Relics.'
The Star of Scorn was covered in Star Relics.
Unlike ordinary Star Relics, these were made by grinding down a Constellation's very body. Rocinante and the lance in his hand were proof. Wherever the lance stabbed, the wound festered and blocked regeneration.
Najin had nothing like that.
At least nothing he could use in this battle.
'But.'
He had a companion who could play a similar role.
"Run, Rocinante!"
Just as the Star of Scorn was about to charge again.
"Did you call, my lord?"
A voice ca from above the crater. Tak, with the sound of a staff striking, the mounds of dirt filling the crater surged upward.
And then.
Bang, bang, bang! Kicking off those floating mounds, soone shot down into the crater. The trajectory was thinner than the Star of Scorn's, but because it was thin, it was sharper.
"My lord."
"Sancho, it's Sancho!"
"Yes, it's ."
With a bitter smile, Sancho pushed the Star of Scorn back. In the opening that created, Rocinante grabbed Najin and pulled him up, then spoke briefly.
"You don't have to be dragged around by the story."
"Huh?"
"Aren't you one of the Knights of La Mancha too?"
Rocinante smirked and tapped Najin's back.
"Here, you're not a demon, giant, or monster to be brought down. You're a Free Knight. Rember that."
While supporting Sancho, he shot Najin a look.
"I can't buy much ti. The lead role in this story isn't us. It's you."
Najin turned the old man's words over in his mind.
3.
To buy Najin ti to recover and steady his breathing, Sancho rushed the Star of Scorn. If it was that young man, he would surely find an answer soon.
"Sancho! It's been a while. Let us set off together. A delightful adventure is waiting for us!"
At the sight of the Star of Scorn laughing, Sancho ground his teeth. The Star of Scorn's breath, voice, and tiny gestures, all stained by the Carnival King, insulted the very existence that had once been the Star of Mirth.
It was an insult, and a desecration.
Now Sancho, charging his old master with lance in hand, felt bitter. He should have done this long ago. He should have beaten his lord back to his senses, even by force, and if that was impossible, he should have ended his life with his own hands.
That was what he should have done.
But he could not.
Because he had been afraid. Afraid to end his lord's story with these hands, afraid to kill his closest friend. And if he ended it like that, he felt he would never be able to laugh again.
Sancho had to pay dearly for his hesitation.
He knew what cris his lord, transford into that thing, had committed. He knew exactly what sins had piled up. So Sancho tightened his grip on the lance.
"Weren't you better than this."
You were never this kind of person.
"You never laughed like that."
Spitting out the words, Sancho thrust his lance. Of course, this was only stalling. Sancho could never kill Don Quixote, nor could he defeat him.
Because Sancho's story had already ended.
He knew he wanted to send his lord off with his own hands, and he knew that was impossible. Even so, the reason he struggled like this, the reason he and the Knights of La Mancha had repeated this nightmare for over three hundred years on this stage called La Mancha...
Because he had been waiting for soone.
For soone who could end this long nightmare.
For soone who could take this story, which had ended in tragedy, and close it as a cody they could laugh and talk about.
Not knowing if such a person even existed, and even if they did, whether they could ever reach this place, Sancho and the Knights of La Mancha endured hundreds of years of nightmare while waiting. Turning over all those years, Sancho finally let out a laugh.
Because he felt it.
The star flashing behind him.
The hero's star that had appeared before them as if to end the long nightmare, split the night, and announce the coming of morning.
He's coming.
The Hero of this story.
"My lord, did you know?"
Barely receiving the Star of Scorn's attacks, buying ti even as his arm was pierced through, Sancho shouted.
"Sotis even protagonists..."
A protagonist always saves others. Don Quixote had always saved soone too. But at the final mont, when he fell into danger, no one could save him.
Because in that story, there had been only one hero.
But not now.
After wandering for ages, Sancho had found him.
"...can be saved by soone."
Right before Sancho's body was pierced, Najin passed by his side. Knocking away the lance that was about to pierce Sancho, Najin stepped in.
【Land of giants where giants stamp their feet!】
【There, you took on the giant's body...】
At the mont the Star of Scorn tried to unfold the story's page again, Najin's body accelerated. As if he had now realized exactly how to break that story.
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