WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 668: A Tower Without a Ceiling and Intermingling Humans - 4

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A Holy Paladin came charging at me, swinging wide. I could picture their movements in my mind. A Cross Sword's broad blade was heavy and slow, and its long guard made the path of the sword obvious.

Even without mind reading, I could probably have dodged it easily in my current state. What a shame. If I dodged, everyone would just assume it was because of mind reading.

I raised my skewer and blocked the Cross Sword. Sparks flew as the skewer scraped across the blade, broad enough to reflect my face. Since force is proportional to weight, the heavy Cross Sword drove me back. At close range, the Holy Paladin's eyes met mine.

'His movements are decent, but a mage is still just a mage! I'll overwhelm him with strength!'

They immediately slammed their shoulder into me. Simple, but powerful. That reckless charge, unconcerned for their own body, was supported by faith in combat precognition and a priest's healing power.

Just where was its limit?

Bang. The Holy Paladin's shoulder guard drove into my abdomen. My muscles crumpled against iron. It hurt quite a bit.

Still, I had drawn them in as close as I wanted.

'He's tough...! This isn't aura! What is this? It feels like I'm fighting a powerful beast!'

I grabbed the momentarily hesitating Cross Sword with my bare hand. Blood flowed from my cut palm, but I gripped the sword so tightly that it could not move.

I yanked on the sword with brute strength, retrieved my skewer, and pulled the Holy Paladin toward me by the weapon. The sharp skewer shot toward their temple with the speed of lightning.

'Death!'

Combat precognition. Forewarned of death, the Holy Paladin desperately twisted their body. They shoved me away with their shoulder and turned their head, avoiding the path of instant death. At the same time, they expelled aura to its limit and wrapped themselves in protective aura. A Holy Paladin's aura was not flexible, but it was tough. Aura alone could block a blade.

Tch. That wouldn't work.

I reversed my grip on the skewer.

'...The precognition?!'

They had seen death. If they had prepared for it, there was no need to press farther. Instead of stabbing their temple, I targeted their fingers. The skewer slipped between both hands gripping the Cross Sword like a snake, then stabbed and twisted, forcibly opening their grasp.

Having focused their aura on their head, the Holy Paladin had weakened for an instant. Their cross was taken from them absurdly easily.

Which was more humiliating, a swordsman losing their sword or a priest losing their cross?

I didn't know, but the Holy Paladin had suffered both. How did that feel? Humiliating, wasn't it?

'What in the world is this bizarre hand technique?! He slipped a skewer into my grip, and in the instant it opened, wrapped his fingers around it and snatched it away! It feels like he has spent his whole life training to take swords from people's hands!'

Was this really the time to think that? You had lost your sword too.

"Brother! Watch out!"

Just as I raised my skewer to finish them, someone interfered. Two Holy Paladins thrust their Cross Swords straight at me. It was an attack I could not block with one skewer, so I shoved the disarmed Holy Paladin away and stepped back.

This was troublesome.

Combat precognition prevented me from killing them in one blow. Even if I wounded them, they recovered instantly unless the injury was fatal. I had to push them back step by step through superior strength and skill, but the Holy Paladins, supported by priests, moved like one body and helped each other.

So this was why people didn't want to fight Holy Paladins. They read all my moves, blocked even perfectly timed surprises, and I couldn't win through attrition either. It felt disgusting, as though I were being dragged into a long fight and losing.

"Those aren't the movements of a mage. Are you all right, brother?"

"Be careful...! That man sees through all my movements. He strikes at openings in an irreverent, underhanded way, and more than anything, he's twisting combat precognition...!"

"He's twisting the Celestial God's revelation? What do you mean? How could a mere creation defy the authority bestowed by the Celestial God?"

"He's not defying it! You'll understand if you face him yourself! That man... He's like a demon!"

Still, Holy Paladins had good defenses, not much offensive power. If I could overcome combat precognition, this would become easy.

The problem was that combat precognition was the Celestial God's authority. Power that had become order. The system called the Celestial God, which symbolized the Sanctum itself.

Could I overcome it? Haa.

"Hold fast to your faith! That man is a demon. Do not be deceived. Advance!"

"The Celestial God watches over us!"

Filled with faith, the Holy Paladins steadied one another's resolve, formed up, and pressed toward me.

* * *

"You can't."

Intensity was an emotion born only when people fought, clashed, and created friction.

That was why Lankart Spendry was so detached. Heat and intensity had nothing to do with Lankart. Even before a cardinal who had received the Celestial God's revelation, a being whose power and authority stood at the top of the pyramid, Lankart remained cold.

"Right-handed people can't invade my world. Strength won't do it. Even if it's the Celestial God."

"Silence, blasphemer!"

Cardinal Elton crossed dozens of meters in a single step. Having received a revelation, the cardinal could do anything. When Elton stamped a foot, the earth rose to support him. When he kicked off the ground, the wind pushed at his back. Light shimmered wherever Cardinal Elton looked, creating a spotlight.

Cardinal Elton's victory was assured. As long as revelation was with him, he would never lose.

But his opponent was Lankart Spendry.

Tantalus, where every remnant and evil of the kingdom, everything filthy and irreverent, had been thrown away. The prisoners locked there had festered for more than ten years, becoming ever more vicious as they glared at one another, ready to devour each other.

The military state's strongest mage, who had descended there alone, killed every person who resisted, and escaped at leisure.

Lankart Spendry.

"Most strong people are right-handed."

As Cardinal Elton charged, he realized his body had somehow curved to the right. He was clearly moving forward, yet the distance to Lankart was not closing. Like a planet in the solar system, he was orbiting Lankart.

Lankart flicked a right hand at him.

'Revelation...!'

Cardinal Elton had also once been a monk. Combat precognition protected him. Since becoming a cardinal, however, Elton's life had never been directly endangered, so it likely had not activated in all that time.

Within Lankart's innate arcane, Elton felt death in that small flick of a finger. The holy shroud moved on its own and wrapped around him.

A violent shockwave began from Lankart, left the Right-Handed World, and hammered into the holy shroud. It was like being struck by cannon fire. Explosions rang out one after another, and Cardinal Elton's massive body was flung away like a toy.

The torn and tattered holy shroud crumbled away. The divine power surrounding Elton restored him, but the shock that had shaken his entire body stopped him for a moment.

Even then, Lankart spoke as though nothing had particularly moved him.

"Come to think of it, isn't that written in the scriptures too? That God values the right side."

Long ago, people had spoken that way. The right was considered a happy, honorable, and auspicious direction, and the seat at the Celestial God's right hand was recorded as the most glorious position. By contrast, the left hand was sometimes considered evil and demonic.

There were now sects that interpreted the doctrine differently, but Cardinal Elton spoke.

"God has no limits. Whether left or right, the Celestial God values them equally. The right is merely an order imposed by foolish people like us!"

God was absolute, and only the faith of inadequate humans was lacking. Cardinal Elton spoke the doctrine he believed in. An absolute being could not favor one side. If God was truly omniscient and omnipotent, then left and right would be treated equally.

Lankart snorted.

"The moment you say that, you're wrong. The right and left aren't equal."

"...What do you mean?"

Lankart quietly raised a right hand.

A mage's innate arcane was the shape of this world as interpreted by that mage. Mages who analyzed the world and approached its origin eventually learned to project their mental image onto it. Overwriting the world's rules with their own was innate arcane.

That was why mages said this.

The more powerful a mage's innate arcane, the more deeply that mage understood the principles of this world.

Lankart was arrogant and insolent, but people treated Lankart with respect because his innate arcane was among the strongest in the entire floating castle.

Some questioned what principle there could possibly be in something as trivial as the Right-Handed World, but Lankart did not care at all. The words of idiots who could not understand even that principle were no different from the barking of beasts.

Lankart spoke firmly.

"God is right-handed."

* * *

"Urgh, ngh!"

"Huff, huff..."

Despite their lofty reputation, the Holy Paladins were more accustomed to defeat than victory.

First, Holy Paladins did not fight the weak. If their opponent had faith and behaved respectfully, the Holy Paladins became kind brothers who looked after them. They only faced powerful, troublesome enemies such as wicked villains, heretics, dark magic, and mysteries. They fought more losing battles than winning ones.

Holy Paladins were better at defense than attack. Their combat precognition, healing power, and sacred aura were excellent, but passive. They could hold the advantage throughout a fight, but lacked the power to finish an enemy.

Even aside from that, they could not help being weak because they held faith rather than their own principles. If they had truly been strong, they would not have needed to become Holy Paladins.

But Holy Paladins did not fear defeat. They had fought for their faith all their lives, believing that even if they died, their sacrifice would become a cornerstone that opened a new future.

But.

"Demon...!"

Yet today, they felt fear while facing a single man.

'The revelation doesn't work!'

Combat precognition did not work.

No, it did work. Yet he made a mockery of it with unbelievable ease. He genuinely intended to kill them and drove them to the brink of death, but if they sensed it through combat precognition and blocked it, he withdrew his killing intent as though it had all been a lie and took another advantage instead.

Still wearing that unreadable smile, the man sighed.

"Do I look like a demon? That's harsh. I haven't killed a single person yet."

Then he suddenly thrust his head forward. Startled, the Holy Paladin swung their Cross Sword. It was a clean diagonal slash worthy of a textbook, putting all their weight behind the thick blade.

The man blocked the incoming blade with his sleeve. Mere cloth could not stop a blade wrapped in aura. Casting aside their fear, the Holy Paladin put strength into the strike to cut through the sleeve and all.

The blade filled with divine power touched his arm.

It should have.

Shrrrk. The sleeve turned into dozens of cards and fell. They were cards made from broad sheets of steel. The Holy Paladin didn't know where they had come from, but layer upon layer of cards blocked the blade like scale armor.

"Urgh!"

Even if the attack had struck armor, the man should have felt the impact. But the Holy Paladin's opponent was not normal. Unafraid of being cut, he trapped the Cross Sword under his armpit, pulled the Holy Paladin in at once, and thrust out his skewer. The skewer shot up like lightning and pierced between the Holy Paladin's brows.

At the moment they felt death closing in, combat precognition drew the Holy Paladin's future. They hurriedly raised an elbow and covered their face.

"Oh dear. It was just a joke. You were far too frightened."

Then came a quiet sneer. In that instant, the skewer changed targets. The Holy Paladin did not even realize what had happened. They felt a powerful impact against their elbow, and before they knew it, the Cross Sword had been taken from them. With terrifying handwork, the man spun the Cross Sword around and threw it behind him.

He was openly targeting the Cross Sword, the Holy Paladins' faith and sword. It was as though he were laughing at them, asking whether their longing for the cross was only that much.

Yet they could not overcome that mockery.

That man made combat precognition, the power of faith, useless. Whenever they reacted and tried to deal with it, he immediately changed targets and went for their cross-swords. It was as though he were deliberately denying God himself.

No, that was clearly his intention.

"Don't stop, brother!"

One Holy Paladin gathered their courage and shouted.

"That man is trying to insult our faith! Do not fear death. Advance! Surround him!"

As boldly as their words, the Holy Paladin charged in. Combat revelation came again. It showed the skewer thrust toward them, piercing between their brows.

'A revelation of death...! But! This will be a feint again! I won't follow combat precognition!'

That was what he had done the entire time. Whenever they read and avoided an attack through combat precognition, he changed it as though he had expected it. The attack itself had been a feint from the beginning. He was always ready to withdraw it.

It would be the same this time. Then they would not follow combat precognition and would thrust forward.

'Celestial God, please forgive this irreverent servant!'

The cold skewer pierced the Holy Paladin's head as they briefly abandoned their faith for the sake of faith.

Footnotes:

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