They crossed blades again and again, but Tamuri's sword failed to reach Deimos.
"Im-impossible! I am His Highness Prince Gilbert's Guardian Knight! I am a swordsman renowned throughout the entire kingdom!"
In that bizarre space, Deimos had spent a dizzying number of years having swordsmanship and various other martial arts thoroughly hammered into him by the Transcenders. Even to Deimos, it was blatantly obvious from this brief clash that Tamuri's skill fell hopelessly short of a true master's.
Rather, he could not comprehend how someone of such mediocre skill could be so arrogant and conceited.
"I care not for your titles, but the swordsmanship you take such pride in is inferior even to that of the children in our city."
This was an undeniable truth. The Wind Cat youths who had trained in that realm were making remarkable strides in their abilities; it was unthinkable that they would ever lose to trash like this. In fact, practically anyone from that city could dispatch this failed excuse for a swordsman in an instant.
"Inferior... to the children of some city, you say?!"
With the face of a demon, Tamuri parroted the words back at him.
"Just moments ago, you derided that youth as weak. That is true. He is weak. However, you are no different from him in that regard."
"A mere skeleton dares call me weak?! You deserve ten thousand deaths!"
Likely worn out, he swung his sword with brute force, heaving from the shoulders, but there was no way a swing so childish could touch even Deimos.
"Kiiieeeh!"
Letting out an unnatural shriek, Tamuri swung his blade toward Deimos's head.
"A wild swing like that could never land."
Deimos dodged it with ease and swept his leg out.
"Whoa?!"
Tamuri tumbled disgracefully to the ground, falling flat on his face.
"Curse you! Ah, I see! I get it now! That black blade is the source of your strength, isn't it?!"
He was so overconfident it left one utterly exasperated.
"No, it is purely a difference in our base abilities."
While this black sword had indeed been created through magic, it was merely a sharp blade. It granted no physical boosts, let alone enhanced technique. To begin with, any improvement to swordsmanship gained through magic was negligible. That was a truth etched into his very soul from that hellish training.
"To use a magical weapon in a sacred duel! How cowardly! How utterly vile! You truly are nothing but an undead scoundrel!"
Whether Tamuri heard Deimos's words or not, he grew even more agitated and rambled on, lost entirely in his own world.
How truly laughable. Could one who failed to recognize their own weakness really be this pathetic and wretched? Seeing him felt almost uncomfortable, like looking at his past self before he had met the supreme Great One.
However, this man had bared his fangs against the supreme Great One and incurred his wrath. His fate had already been sealed.
"You truly are beyond saving."
Tamuri charged in to slash at him again with a cry like a screeching bird. Parrying the blow, Deimos cleanly severed his right arm at the shoulder.
"Huh...?"
Staring down at his severed right arm on the ground, still clutching the sword, Tamuri let out a dazed gasp. A beat later, he unleashed a bloodcurdling shriek.
Deimos pointed the tip of his black sword right between Tamuri's eyes.
"If you have time to scream, pick up your blade! You still have your left arm, do you not?"
He bellowed in a tone that brooked no argument, but—
"Eek!"
His face frozen in sheer terror, Tamuri let out a shrill shriek and scrambled backward.
"T-Tokotsu, help me!"
"..."
Tokotsu gave no response whatsoever. Gone was his previous smirk, replaced by a solemn expression as he simply observed Deimos, without sparing so much as a glance at Tamuri.
"Hey, Tokotsu! Are you listening to me?!"
Tamuri screamed at Tokotsu, his voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek.
"I will say it once more! Take up your blade!" Deimos barked in a menacing voice.
"I-I can't fight anymore!" Tamuri cried out with an answer Deimos had never expected.
"Huh?"
What on earth is this fool saying?
"I can't fight with this injury!"
"Are you... actually being serious?"
Unable to fight just from losing a right arm? Even the women and children who had taken part in that hellish boot camp would not give up over something so minor. In fact, they would pretend to cry only to slit your throat in your sleep. Even that youth named Somni, whom this man had so thoroughly mocked as weak earlier, had tried to fulfill his mission despite having an arm severed. There was no way a knight serving royalty would throw in the towel over something like this.
I see. He must be trying to lure Deimos into letting down his guard. He had nearly been fooled by the man's realistic performance. Seeing that they stood no chance through raw strength, they must have resorted to a desperate gamble. In that case, there was a high probability that this was all a bluff.
"You take me far too lightly, brat! Did you truly think I would be deceived by such cheap tricks?!"
Deimos was a subordinate of that Great One. To let someone think they could defeat him with underhanded trickery was no different from dragging the Great One's name through the mud. It was an unforgivable, grave offense.
"N-N-No! I really can't fight anymore!"
Clutching the stump of his severed right arm, Tamuri cried out desperately, his face a mess of tears and snot.
"Still spewing nonsense?! Then I shall beat you so thoroughly that you can never utter another lie!"
Deimos dismissed the black sword in his right hand and stepped forward. Diving into the man's guard, he drove an empty-handed left fist directly into Tamuri's abdomen. As Tamuri doubled over, Deimos unleashed a storm of punches, refusing to grant him even a single opening to counterattack.