Sharp, pointed tips lunged forward without end.
Rei skillfully maneuvered the massive Death Scythe, parrying, parrying, and parrying every thrust unleashed in a continuous attempt to pierce his body.
Normally, a rapier like the one Oricule held would be no match for the Death Scythe. In fact, considering the inherent characteristics of a rapier, it shouldn't have been able to trade blows with even an ordinary longsword, let alone a weapon of this magnitude. What made this possible was not merely that Oricule’s rapier was a masterpiece by Estha Nor—the woman hailed as the greatest alchemist in history.
Regardless of the weapon, if the wielder’s skill is lacking, it will be inferior to even a wooden sword swung by a master. That Oricule could hold his own against the Death Scythe this long was a testament to his own superlative technique.
The gale-like thrusts were delivered with only his right hand.
At a glance, it looked as though Oricule was attacking unilaterally while Rei appeared focused solely on defense, but the scales of the engagement were gradually tilting.
Yes, they were tilting in Rei's favor.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
In an instant, countless metallic rings echoed through the chamber. These were the sounds of the rapier’s tip being parried in rapid succession by the Death Scythe’s blade, shaft, or butt end.
Directly following the exchange, Rei allowed a small smirk to grace his lips. He gradually closed the distance toward Oricule—one step, then two.
Feeling the pressure radiating from Rei, Oricule halted his rapier’s movements and retreated several steps. However, almost no sign of impatience had surfaced on his face. On the contrary, he still maintained an air of composure.
"What's the matter? You seem quite relaxed for someone being backed into a corner. If you still have a trump card, you'd better bring it out now."
"Well now, I wonder. Haven't you forgotten something? We only need to stall for time. I wonder... what is happening at House Silva right now?"
Oricule spoke in an attempt to shake Rei, but he was met only with a mocking laugh. Oricule’s brow furrowed with a hint of displeasure.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, I can just tell you really mean what you're saying. It's true that Elena is at House Silva. But do you really think you can prepare a force capable of handling her... the one called the Princess General... here in Exil? This isn't even your headquarters. You're nothing more than an underground existence. That means the forces you can move must be limited. After all, you've already deployed about twenty men here."
Rei flicked his gaze toward Vihera.
Over there, the robed subordinates were connecting their attacks with seamless coordination, understanding each other's movements through mere glances and gestures. One would throw a dagger to divert an attack aimed at a comrade’s gauntlets, saving them from a direct hit. Another would catch a companion who had been kicked or punched back, preventing them from crashing into the wall and minimizing the damage.
The cultists were fighting Vihera with coordination that could only be described as magnificent, yet they could not bridge the decisive gap in strength. Like teeth falling from a comb, their numbers dwindled one by one.
Among the robed men lying on the ground, the luckiest were likely those who were merely unconscious. Conversely, the unluckiest were those whose necks were bent in directions they were never meant to go, or those whose heads had been slashed multiple times by the claws extending from Vihera's gauntlets—their flame of life already completely extinguished.
"As you can see, how long do you think they can hold out against Vihera?" Rei asked.
He lowered the blade of the Death Scythe. Seeing this, Oricule also shifted his weight back into a defensive stance, preparing to respond to an upward strike from below.
"Hmm. Certainly, looking at it this way, we are indeed in a crisis. However... do you not think we came out here fully understanding the difference in our respective strengths?"
"Strength, huh? Are you perhaps pinning your hopes on those dolls? It's true the situation over there is slightly unfavorable for us."
As if to check the movements Rei mentioned, Oricule let the blade of his rapier sway rhythmically. He moved it at regular intervals as if measuring the timing... and in the next moment, he kicked off the floor and rapidly closed the distance.
Once again, a thrust with the speed of a lightning bolt was unleashed. Though it was delivered sharper and faster than before, Rei parried the tip using the blade of the Death Scythe.
"Corrosion, Corrosion, Corrosion, Corrosion, Corrosion."
He repeatedly utilized Corrosion, one of the Death Scythe's skills. However...
(Tsk. That’s one sturdy rapier. I guess that's a work of Estha Nor for you.)
No matter how many times he used Corrosion, which had reached Level 3, there was absolutely no abnormality in the rapier’s blade.
"What is the matter? You've been muttering the same word for a while now. Personally, I would welcome it if you'd keep stalling for time."
Oricule ceased his storm of thrusts and leapt backward, throwing those words at Rei.
"Nah, I was just wondering how I should finish you off. Well, even if this trick doesn't work, I have plenty of other moves."
Rei gripped the center of the Death Scythe's shaft and began to spin it with both hands. As the rotating weapon gained speed, the sound of it slicing through the air echoed through the surroundings. Oricule furrowed his brow slightly, growing wary of Rei's unprecedented behavior.
And then—
"Hah!"
With a sharp exhale, Rei swung the spinning Death Scythe again and again. If Oricule’s thrusts were like needles piercing the air, the strikes Rei was unleashing now were slashes that seemed to cleave the very atmosphere. Furthermore, their speed was even greater than any strike Rei had previously delivered.
Of course, it didn't end there. While Oricule focused on dodging and looked for an opening, Rei whispered a single word.
"Penetrate."
Wind coiled around the butt end part of the Death Scythe. In the next instant, a thrust was unleashed—not with the blade, but with the shaft's end. Its sharpness was comparable to Oricule’s thrusts; in terms of pure speed, it might have even surpassed them.
"What!?"
Oricule successfully evaded, partly due to his own skill, but also because it was not a barrage of countless thrusts like his own. Even so, the butt end clad in wind sliced through Oricule’s mantle. It wasn't the weapon itself that cut him, but the wind clad on the butt end.
That momentary shock created an opening.
"Too naive!"
Not missing the chance, Rei unleashed a slash with the Death Scythe’s blade. The blade swung in a horizontal slash from Oricule’s left to right. However, completely betraying Rei's expectations, the blade did not bisect the man's torso. It was caught mid-swing—yet, unable to kill the momentum of the Death Scythe's weight and the power unleashed by Rei’s inhuman physical strength, Oricule was blown away.
Sent flying like a stone thrown by a child, Oricule nonetheless managed to regain his posture in mid-air and landed on the floor.
"HEY-YOU. GET-OUT-OF-THE-WAY!"
He finally killed his momentum right in the middle of the battlefield where Byune and Nakt were fighting the dolls. Anyone could see how powerful that last blow had been by looking at the skid marks left on the floor.
Rei directed a suspicious gaze toward him. The blow he had delivered was undoubtedly fatal. Since it was a horizontal slash infused with a considerable amount of magic power, Oricule should have been severed in two.
Yet, instead of being blown away while scattering his internal organs, he had been sent flying with his body intact. For Rei, that was an irregular occurrence he could not overlook.
But the reason became clear as soon as he looked at Oricule's hands.
In his right hand was the rapier. That was the same equipment as before. But in his left hand... he held a sword too long to be called a dagger and too short to be a longsword. Only one side had an edge, while the other side was shaped like a comb. It was a weapon meant to catch and break an opponent's sword—a Swordbreaker.
(And even after taking a hit from the Death Scythe, it’s scarred but not destroyed. It might not be as impressive as the rapier made by Estha Nor, but it’s still a powerful magic item.)
It was common for rapier users to hold a secondary weapon in their off-hand. Some chose a main-gauche with a large guard to block, while others used daggers for parrying. Oricule had chosen a Swordbreaker, designed specifically to snap an opponent's blade.
"I didn't think you still had a hidden card."
"Since I am challenging the one known as Crimson, naturally I would prepare a trump card or two."
"HEY. DIDN'T-YOU-HEAR-ME-SAY-YOU'RE-IN-THE-WAY?" the doll at Oricule’s feet spat out irritably.
Oricule flicked his gaze for just a moment toward the doll that had interrupted him. The sound of air being sliced—fwoosh!—echoed as his rapier parried several needles that had been flying toward his face.
"I may have interfered, but I would appreciate it if you could properly finish your own share of the work. To think that with these numbers, you cannot finish off two thieves..."
Oricule spoke to the doll without taking his eyes off Rei for even a second. His tone was tinged with unmistakable exasperation.
"YOU... ARE-YOU-MOCKING-LADY-PRI!?"
At those words, the other dolls that had been warily watching Byune and Nakt all turned toward Oricule. Because they were dolls, they possessed neither presence nor murderous intent. Nevertheless, it was clear that they could not simply let that statement slide.
"The one I have doubts about is not the technology of House Marstchel, but rather you lot. If you claim otherwise, then hurry up and either capture or kill those two thieves and come help me."
Hearing that, Nakt’s mouth twisted in a grimace.
It was clear that the relationship between House Marstchel and the Holy Light Religion was by no means a good one. He had entertained a faint hope that those words might create a decisive rift and cause them to fight amongst themselves... but it seemed that hope would not be realized. Instead, Oricule’s words had incited the dolls to attack even more fiercely.
Rei understood this as well.
(He intends to defeat Byune and Nakt quickly so he can use those dolls against me or Vihera.)
Oricule wasn't trying to defeat Rei with his own strength; he was solely focused on stalling. He had shifted from total defense only because he judged he would be overwhelmed if he didn't increase the pressure.
"FINE. WE-WILL-SHOW-YOU-THE-POWER-OF-LADY-PRI'S-CREATIONS."
For the dolls, the idea that the technology of their creator, Pri, would be looked down upon because of their failure was intolerable. When they were granted their pseudo-egos, an intense devotion to Pri had been ingrained within them. That feeling was not so different from what the believers of the Holy Light Religion held for their goddess. Of course, given that neither side truly accepted the other, both would likely deny sharing any similar sentiments.
"EVERYONE, GO. FOR-LADY-PRI!"
The doll at Oricule’s feet shouted, and the others followed suit. Their attacks on Byune and Nakt grew more violent.
The speed at which they thrust their weapons increased, resulting in a flurry of blows. While Byune was holding her own, Nakt began to struggle. Originally, the skills required of a thief were not focused on combat. A certain level of fighting ability was necessary, of course, but a thief’s true profession involved scouting, disarming traps, or setting them.
"Damn it, at this rate...!"
While parrying a doll’s spear with his dagger, Nakt’s gaze turned toward Tibia, who still lay unconscious in the center of the magic circle. Fighting against the desperation swirling within him, he dodged a strike from a doll’s longsword and lunged forward with his dagger.