There was more wrong with Sigurd than just his monstrous strength.
"And what is going on with your eyes?"
"As I recall, Sigurd never had a pair of eyes like those."
What was more—
How could a hero who bore the name of justice be surrounded by such terrifying malevolence and curses?
Those were all questions.
"Heh. I see. So you are one of the so-called sages of Proper Human History."
Sigurd did not answer Holmes's questions.
"So—what do you intend to do?"
"Before Scandinavia's great hero, how do you intend to fight?"
The demonic sword Gram spun once in his hand.
Sweat beaded on Mash's face.
She had just seen it. In the battle against the Mad Beast that Norla had transformed into, Sigurd had only used the demonic sword Gram a few times. Most of the time, he had fought with the dagger launched from his fists.
In other words, Holmes was right.
The man before them truly had not used his full strength.
He was already displaying such terrifying power without using his full strength. If he did use it all...
"There is no need to keep wasting words."
Whoosh—
Boom!!!
"Roar—"
Sigurd had no intention of playing around any longer. Gripping the demonic sword Gram tightly, he charged at Norla.
Norla roared and raised an arm to smash down at him, but Sigurd evaded it. His dagger stabbed toward Norla's chest.
Rather than retreat, Norla surged forward. His heavy body slammed fiercely into Sigurd. Sigurd raised one arm and turned to block, but Norla immediately bound him with his arm.
Norla opened his mouth, white flames about to spew forth.
"Hmph!"
Bang!
Sigurd snorted coldly, his boundless strength tearing free from Norla's restraint. Gram swept upward, leaving a clearly visible gash across Norla's chest.
"Ugh—roar..."
Norla