Evil God - Instant Kill - OOO Sword!!

GOLDOH

Count Ragitta’s blade whistled past, a hair’s breadth from taking my head off.

Wait, what? Quinton and I both dodged that strike—the same one that had rendered us total dead weight just moments ago—as if some invisible hand was guiding our limbs.

“—Impossible!?” Ragitta’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

I couldn’t blame him. My own eyes were probably just as wide.

Was my body moving on its own? No... it was like I’d seen it coming. Did I just develop some kind of super-powered Foresight?

“It’s not just that,” Quinton muttered, his voice shaking. “There’s something... squirming inside me. Is this the magic of the ‘Black Rose’?”

We both took up our stances, though my brain was still struggling to catch up with my hands.

“So the legends weren’t just bedtime stories,” I said.

“Guess we’re the chosen ones. Hell if I know why, but with this power...” Quinton grinned, a wild, dangerous look in his eyes. “We can actually win!”

We split up instantly, flanking Ragitta from both sides.

“Don’t get cocky!” the Count roared. “You think a couple of small fry can handle the power of the ‘Black Rose’ just like that?!”

Ragitta swung, and the sheer force of his sword pressure sent us both reeling back.

“Ugh...!”

“Still a beast—!”

I winced at the impact. Honestly, what was a guy like this doing as a local lord? With skills like that, he should’ve been an Expert Swordsman known across the continent. Even in the Oriana Kingdom, where Spellswords are basically treated like second-class citizens, it was weird that someone this powerful was a complete nobody.

Normally, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. We would’ve been dead meat.

“Quinton, buy me a second. Keep him busy.”

“You got it, Goldoh.”

We’d survived enough death matches as Tsurupikano’s slaves to know exactly what the other was thinking without needing a long-winded speech. Even with this crazy Black Magic Power buff, we couldn’t take this guy one-on-one.

But together? That was a different story.

“Uwooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”

Quinton let out a roar that probably shook the rafters and charged with that oversized slab of metal he calls a greatsword.

“Too predictable! As if a move that simple would ever land!” Ragitta braced himself. He tracked Quinton’s movement, ready to mow him down.

Then Quinton hit the nitrous.

“Wh-what!?”

Jet-black Magic Power erupted from Quinton’s feet, catapulting him forward.

“Uwooooooooooooo!!”

“—Nuuuugh!”

Their blades collided with a deafening screech, locking into a desperate struggle for dominance. A pure contest of muscle and mana. Clad in that shadowy aura, Quinton was actually pushing the Count back.

“Inconceivable! The ‘Black Rose’ gives this much of a boost?!”

The floor beneath Ragitta’s boots disintegrated, cracks spider-webbing across the entire room. Finally, the Count had to twist his blade, parrying the blow just to stay on his feet.

But he was too late. Quinton had already bought me all the time I needed.

“Evil God - Instant Kill—”

My signature golden Magic Power began to swirl. This was it—the moment I’d unleash my ultimate technique: Evil God - Instant Kill - Golden Dragon Sword. Or at least, that was the plan.

“Wait, what’s happening—!?”

The gold was being eaten. The Black Magic Power was devouring it, turning my aura into something dark and ink-like. The dragon that usually formed from my mana didn't show up. Instead, it started weaving itself into the shape of a magnificent, terrifying rose.

My Magic Power was dyed completely pitch-black. And then, I let it rip.

“Evil God - Instant Kill - Black Rose Sword!!”

A literal torrent of Black Petals surged toward Count Ragitta.

“I-IMPOSSIBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

The blast swallowed him whole. He didn't just die; he evaporated. Not a single speck of dust remained where he’d been standing.

Then, silence. Just beautiful Black Petals fluttering through the air.

The attack had been so powerful it punched a hole straight through the castle wall, revealing the moon hanging in the night sky. The petals drifted down like dark snow, staining the world below.

I looked down through the gap in the wall. The guys from the ‘Oath of the Black Rose’ were all standing there, staring up at me.

“You did it, Goldoh,” Quinton said, slapping me on the shoulder.

“Looks like they held their own, too...”

“Yeah. Go on, don’t keep ‘em waiting. Give ‘em a sign.”

“A sign...?”

Every single soldier of the ‘Oath of the Black Rose’ looking up at the castle had their right hand raised. And on every single one of those hands was the mark—the Black Petal.

“Those guys...”

“No clue why, but it looks like the ‘Black Rose’ picked all of us,” Quinton said. He gave me a knowing look. “Hey, Goldoh. Maybe it’s a bit early to start using ‘Foresight’ on your own life, don’t you think?”

“Quinton...”

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with this. I don’t know how far we can actually go. But if this country needs our power... then I want to see this through to the end.”

“Then you should be the one to—”

“Nah.” Quinton smacked my back. “I’m not the leader type. That’s on you.”

He gestured toward the window. “Go on. Everyone’s waiting.”

I looked out at the sea of faces, all those men raising their hands toward me. Not long ago, I’d been ready to leave them all behind. The guilt hit me like a physical weight, twisting my features.

But they weren't looking for an apology. They were looking for a flag.

I stared at the Black Petal etched into my own right hand.

Fine. If that's how it's going to be.

I wanted to see what I was capable of, too.

If a guy like me can actually pull this off...

I stepped forward to the edge of the ruined wall and thrust my right hand into the air.

“THE VICTORY IS OURS!!” I screamed. “SWEAR YOUR OATH TO THE BLACK ROSE!!”

The crowd erupted into a roar, and the black roses danced in the wind.