A Space and Time That Might Exist (End)

Sword and axe, wings and claws.

The sharp clang of metal striking metal broke out briefly among the ruins at dawn, sparks falling onto the scorched earth and extinguishing in an instant.

Leifuerdi's four swords danced like an impenetrable net. When heavy, they pressed down, making it hard to breathe; when light, they stabbed from blind spots. With a sway of its serpentine tail, its massive body moved within a small space without any sense of clumsiness.

Stark kept dodging and parrying, each clash between the axe blade and the sword making his arm go numb. His wounds were still bleeding, and his movements were a fraction slower than when he was at his peak, but his eyes remained steady.

Genau's Black-Gold Wings swirled around him, their thin blades slicing through the air to deflect attacks from the side. The edges of his wings scraped against the blades, emitting a sharp screech. His face was pale, and the wound that had pierced his chest throbbed with pain with every movement, yet the trajectory of his wings remained precise.

The three were locked in a fierce battle, with none of them gaining a decisive advantage.

Leifuerdi's sword suddenly increased its force, slashing down on the handle of Stark's axe.

"Clang--!"

The ground beneath Stark's feet cracked open. He gritted his teeth and braced himself.

Just then, his eyes widened suddenly.

A faint, unnatural cracking sound came from where the axe blade clashed with the sword.

"Snap."

It was very faint, but clearly audible amidst the continuous popping sounds.

Stark twisted his wrist, and the axe blade slid down the sword.

"Clang--!"

The sword in Leifuerdi's right hand suddenly broke in two. The upper half spun out and embedded itself in the ground some distance away.

Leifuerdi paused.

"Genau!" Stark roared, dodging another sword strike as he dodged. "The sword that attacked him has become brittle!"

Genau did not hesitate.

The Black-Gold Wings behind him suddenly split apart, transforming into dozens of thin blades that swarmed towards the three remaining swords in Leifuerdi's hands like a bee swarm. They didn't attack the person, only the swords.

Leifuerdi parried with his sword, but the vibration of the blade intensified, and each collision produced more sparks.

"In other words," Genau's voice rang out amidst the whooshing sound of wings cutting through the air, steady and cold, "There's no extra magic to maintain the sword's resilience, right?"

Leifuerdi remained silent, his four arms swinging the sword even faster, but the sword's path had become chaotic.

Stark seized the opportunity, swung his axe horizontally, and smashed it heavily into the side of a sword on his left.

"Clang—Crack!"

The second sword shattered.

Genau's wings followed him like a shadow, and the thin blade wrapped around the third sword. The black-gold magic and the remaining power on the sword tore fiercely together, producing a teeth-grinding friction sound.

Clang!

The third sword shattered into several pieces.

Only one round left.

Leifuerdi gripped his remaining sword, his serpent tail lashing out as he slid back several meters, creating distance. His chest heaved, and the dissipation of magic from the severed end of his serpent tail seemed to accelerate.

Genau and Stark did not pursue. The two stood still, slightly out of breath, both bearing injuries, but their eyes were fixed on their opponent.

A brief standoff.

The next second, the two charged forward simultaneously.

Genau's wings folded, transforming into a black-gold spike that pierced straight at the final sword. Stark crouched, his axe blade sweeping along the ground towards Leifuerdi's lower body, which was supporting his weight.

Leifuerdi swung all four arms, his last remaining sword aimed at the wings, while simultaneously raising one foot to brace himself against the axe blow.

Just a moment before the attacks were about to converge—

"Pfft."

"Pfft."

Two muffled thuds, almost simultaneously.

Leifuerdi's uppermost arms on both sides suddenly grew outwards like snakes, the cracking sound of the joints stretching sending chills down one's spine. His two palms, fingers together like knives, pierced through the gaps in Genau and Stark's defenses with a speed and angle completely beyond reason, precisely penetrating their abdomens.

The movements were clean and efficient.

Genau's body stiffened, his forward momentum abruptly halted. Stark groaned, his sweeping axe falling limply to the ground.

Leifuerdi slowly withdrew his arm. As his arm returned to its normal length, warm blood dripped from his fingertips.

Genau and Stark staggered backward and fell to the ground. Blood gushed from their abdominal wounds, quickly staining their robes red.

Leifuerdi stood there, his only remaining sword hanging by his side. He looked down at the slowly regenerating stump of his snake tail, then looked up at the two people sitting on the ground.

An enemy without weapons poses no threat.

His voice was steady, even carrying a hint of indifference, as if stating a fact.

"Human mindset, you firmly believe that I cannot fight without weapons."

He gripped his sword and took a step forward.

"I won."

Genau lowered his head, his hand pressed against the wound on his abdomen, blood seeping from between his fingers. His shoulders trembled slightly, emitting low hisses.

It looks like he's smiling.

Leifuerdi stopped in his tracks.

"Mindset..."

Genau raised his face, blood at the corner of his mouth, but he was indeed smiling. The smile was faint, devoid of warmth.

You're the same.

He suddenly released his hand from the wound, and his arms shot forward, tightly gripping the arm that had pierced his abdomen before Leifuerdi could fully retract.

"Don't underestimate humans...!"

Leifuerdi tried to pull his hand away, but Genau held on tightly, his nails almost digging into the gaps between the scales on his arm. At the same time, the remaining power of the Black-Gold Wings behind Genau erupted, and dozens of thin blades wrapped around him like chains, tightly binding the arm and his own waist and abdomen.

Leifuerdi raised his sword with his other hand, ready to strike.

"Bright Sky--"

Stark's roar exploded.

He had somehow managed to rise from his knees, gripping the axe in both hands, his remaining strength Burning along with the blood gushing from his wounds. The axe blade emitted a blinding, almost pure white light, tearing through the last vestiges of darkness before dawn.

"--cut!!"

The ax light fell.

There was no sound.

The light engulfed Leifuerdi's upper body, the arms that Genau had wrapped around him, and everything in that space.

"Black-Gold Wings Magic!" Genau also used all his strength to finish it off.

The light dissipated, Leifuerdi, now only half a snake tail below his waist, stood frozen for a moment before crashing to the ground, turning into black magical fragments that scattered in the wind.

The upper body disappeared.

Genau clutched the Demons's arm, severed at the shoulder, and fell backward. The Black-Gold Wings behind him shattered inch by inch, turning into scattered specks of light. The wound on his abdomen, torn open by the earlier outburst, bled even more rapidly.

After delivering that axe blow, Stark collapsed to the ground, motionless. The axe slipped from his hand and lay beside him, its blade curled and emitting wisps of blue smoke.

Silence fell over the ruins.

Only the whistling of the wind through the broken wall and the gradually weakening breaths of the two people could be heard.

Genau gazed at the graying sky and blinked.

"... It seems they perished together."

He spoke softly, then closed his eyes.

Daylight broke.

The light drifted in from the east, slowly creeping across the scorched earth, over the broken walls, and finally landing on Genau's face.

He opened his eyes.

My vision was a little blurry, but I could make out the figure crouching beside me. Golden hair, black robes, holding a thick Holy Scripture in his hands.

It's Methode.

She lowered her head, her fingertips glowing with a soft, milky-white light, hovering above the wound on Genau's abdomen. The flesh and blood writhed and healed visibly within the light.

Genau looked at her without saying a word.

After a long while, Methode stopped, and the light faded. She closed the Holy Scripture and let out a soft sigh of relief.

"It seems to be stable for now. However, the internal organ damage requires several days of rest, and strenuous activity should be avoided."

Genau raised his hand and touched his abdomen. The wound had healed on the surface, leaving only a pale pink mark of new flesh, and there was still some lingering pain below.

He pushed himself up from the ground and slowly sat up.

"... Methode."

"Um?"

"I didn't die."

Methode blinked, then smiled slightly.

"It seems so."

"..."

"Alright, we can move now." Genau tried to stand up; his legs were a little weak, but he managed. He looked at Stark, "Where is he?"

"Mr. Stark's injuries were more severe than yours; he had three broken ribs and internal organ concussion," Methode said. "However, I've already given him first aid, his vital signs are stable, and he's out of danger. I saved him first."

Genau nodded.

"I see."

Methode turned her head and looked at him.

"Does Mr. Genau have any complaints?"

Genau's expression remained unchanged.

"No."

He paused for a beat, his voice flat.

"That guy is excellent."

A few days later.

At the edge of the ruins, beside a makeshift camp.

Methode packed up the last of her belongings, fastened them, and then turned to look at Frieren, who was examining a map.

"Speaking of which, Miss Frieren..."

Frieren looked up.

"It seems your party doesn't have any monks," Methode said gently. "In the Northern Plateau, monster and Demons attacks are frequent. Without monks, it's very dangerous if you get injured. I'm quite free after this mission. Would you like me to join you temporarily? Don't let my appearance fool you, I'm fairly skilled in healing magic."

Frieren blinked.

No, thank you.

She rolled up the map.

"I also know some basic monk magic. If things get bad, we'll run for our lives."

She patted the bag at her waist.

"That's just how we've always been. And..."

She paused, her gaze drifting to the distant horizon of the wasteland, her voice softening.

"I'm still saving a monk's place for someone. Maybe we'll meet again someday."

Fern stood beside Frieren. Upon hearing this, her pale purple eyes lowered slightly, and she remained silent. However, she reached out and silently took Frieren's arm, her cheeks puffing out slightly in a protective stance, while her eyes were fixed on Methode.

Frieren sensed her movement, turned her head, and narrowed her small eyes with a hint of helplessness.

"And for some reason, Fern always seems unhappy when she's with you..."

Seeing Fern's wary expression, Methode suddenly raised her hands and gently covered her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and the curve of her lips deepened, her smile containing an unusually bright, even dreamlike, expression.

"Oh dear... I'm disliked now."

Her voice softened, with a hint of pleasant tremor.

"However, I also really like Miss Fern. Even when she's angry, she's so cute..."

Fern immediately tightened his grip on Frieren's arm, turning his face away, whether to hide behind Frieren or to protect Frieren, it was unclear.

Just then, footsteps approached.

Genau walked over, carrying a simple bag on his back; he was no longer seriously injured.

"The Norm Knights have arrived, and the bodies have been handed over." He looked at Methode. "Let's prepare to leave."

He turned to Frieren and nodded.

I will remember this favor.

After saying that, he turned to leave.

"Mr. Genau."

Methode called out to him.

Genau stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around.

Methode looked at his straight back, paused for a second, and spoke in a steady voice.

"Thank."

Genau paused for a moment.

Thanks.

He walked away without looking back.

Methode smiled, slung her luggage over her shoulder, nodded slightly to Frieren and Fern, and then followed in Genau's footsteps.

The two walked one after the other along the dirt road heading north, their shadows gradually lengthening and fading in the morning light.

Frieren watched for a while, then looked away.

"Alright, we should go now."

Fern released her arm and softly hummed in agreement.

The two packed their meager belongings, turned around, and headed in another direction.

The wind on the wasteland whipped up fine dust, sweeping over ruins, over newly erected graves, and over the empty, gradually brightening sky.

In the distance, a few early-rising blackbirds landed on the scorched wood, tilted their heads, looked at the departing figures, and then at the village that had returned to silence.

Then it flapped its wings and took flight, disappearing into the gray-white sky.

A new day has begun.