The Rising of the Shield Hero Volume 13

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The Rising of the Shield Hero Volume 13 Page 12

by Aneko Yusagi


  Without even giving him a chance to breathe, Jaralis unleashed a flurry of attacks on Fohl.

  “This miserable nothing is supposed to be one of the Shield Hero’s soldiers?! Don’t make me laugh!” he sneered.

  He kicked Fohl, delivered a powerful hook, and then followed up with a straight jab. After that . . . he cast a spell?!

  “Zweite Accel Boost!”

  Jaralis appeared behind Fohl almost instantaneously, as if he had teleported. He then clenched his hands together and smashed them into the ground. There was a loud rumble as a tremor shot forth, shaking the earth below.

  To be able to deliver such a barrage of attacks in mere moments . . . I’d heard that Siltvelt was a militant country. It wasn’t hard to believe after seeing such combat prowess. I wondered if Fohl would be alright.

  “Hmph. Finished already? How boring!” Jaralis growled.

  “Raahhhhh!” bellowed the minotaur.

  I looked over toward Atla just in time to catch a glimpse of the instant the minotaur swiped his axe at her. He must have used the axe version of a Hadouken or something, because the pillar behind Atla split in two.

  “Jaralis, you better not try to interfere!” the minotaur shouted facetiously while grinning.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you have all the fun this time. This duel is sacred. That hakuko half-breed disgraced me, and for that I’ll make her pay,” Jaralis replied.

  “Oh really? I don’t mind fighting you both by myself, but it’s a bit early for you to assume that you’ve defeated my brother,” Atla said.

  She dodged the minotaur’s swing and attempted to close in on him in one fluid motion, but his guard was tight. He deflected her attack with his axe and then used it to repel her, tossing her into the air.

  “I’ve fought people like you before. I know taking any of your attacks head-on would have dire consequences. I can see why the Shield Hero chose you,” the minotaur said.

  “Oh? Should I parry that comment too, then? Gosh, I never expected this to be so difficult,” Atla taunted.

  “You seem to be convinced you’ve won, Jaralis. You better keep your eyes on your own opponent,” the minotaur said.

  “Hmph! You warrior types are too serious. Look at this! My victory is already —”

  Jaralis had grabbed Fohl by the leg and lifted him up into the air as if he were about to finish him. But Fohl kicked Jaralis’s hand away with his other foot, landed on his hands, and sprung backward away from Jaralis in one swift movement.

  “You’re quick, but you hit like a girl. Actually, you make yourself seem quick, but you’re really not all that fast,” Jaralis taunted.

  Fohl brushed himself off, faced Jaralis, and readied himself to fight again.

  “What did you say?!” he shouted.

  “Oh? You’re pretty tough after all, Brother,” Atla said.

  “This is nothing compared to my training back at the village. I hope you’re not going to tell me those attacks were you being serious,” Fohl taunted Jaralis.

  Jaralis snarled and his aura grew even more threatening than before. I guess that meant he had been holding back. His attacks had been slow enough that I was able to follow them easily, after all. Raphtalia or Filo would’ve had no problem dodging and counterattacking.

  Now that Fohl mentioned it, I remembered that he’d not only been training daily, but he also had to do battle with Atla every night. “Tough” might have been an appropriate description, after all. Maybe he’d purposely taken the attacks to get an idea of his opponent’s strength.

  “Why would I fight seriously against a hakuko half-breed? Don’t insult me,” Jaralis replied.

  “Nothing is more insulting than not taking an opponent seriously!” Fohl shouted angrily.

  His eyes were ablaze.

  “Have you ever even been on a real battlefield before? It’s not a place for aristocrats to play tough,” Fohl codded.

  Jaralis let out an angry roar.

  “You mouthy brat! You’ll regret that!” he thundered.

  The two of them went on bickering, but I turned my attention back to Atla and the minotaur. This duel was supposed to be a tag team battle, but it had just ended up being two one-on-one fights. Not that I actually cared either way.

  “Here I come! Aiya!” Atla cried out.

  The minotaur bellowed out a battle cry and swung his axe down with all of his might! But the path of the axe mysteriously shifted sideways, and the blade fell just to the side of Atla.

  “Hmph . . .”

  “I wouldn’t get hit by an attack like that in a million years. If all you have is your superhuman strength, parrying is easy as pie!” Atla taunted.

  “This is getting interesting! Then how about this?!” the minotaur shouted.

  He gripped his axe with both hands and held it out directly in front of himself. He then took a wide stance and closed his eyes. Huh? What was he doing? The axe started to glow faintly.

  “Do not underestimate pure strength. Your little tricks won’t work if the strength is so great that it cannot be parried,” he said.

  “Impressive. Attacking is everything to you. I admire that. In that case, I won’t hold back. I’ll divert anything you can throw at me!” Atla replied.

  “You better not think that strength is all I have!”

  The minotaur bellowed out another long, ear-piercing war cry. Strange patterns suddenly appeared on the surface of his body and his muscles began to bulge. But was that war cry really necessary? It lasted so long that I zoned out for a second there.

  “Th-that’s . . .” Raphtalia muttered.

  She was at a loss for words.

  “Did something happen?” I asked.

  “It’s not quite the same as the Muso Activation technique, but it’s similar to Filo’s toned-down version of haikuikku. He’s increasing his stats by circulating magic power throughout his body,” she explained.

  Hmph, I guess he really was a legendary warrior.

  “Oh? That’s interesting. Let me give that a try,” Atla said.

  And just like that, something like magic power began to accumulate around Atla. I could sense it thanks to my training with the Way of the Dragon Vein.

  “Just as I suspected, you must be a prodigy. Here I come!” shouted the minotaur.

  Atla exhaled powerfully and the sound of her breath filled the hall. The minotaur was fast! Seeing a body of that size move so quickly reminded me of Filo fighting in her filolial queen form.

  “Wooow, they’re both so quiiick,” Filo said.

  She was able to follow their movements with her eyes. I guess that wasn’t surprising, considering that she could move like that too.

  “Let’s see you take this! Crushing Bull!”

  The minotaur planted his feet down firmly and swung his axe down toward Atla.

  “Indeed, it would be the end of me if that attack landed. But I’m not going to just stand here,” Atla replied.

  She hopped to the side with a light step and anticipated the path of the axe, delivering a swift kick to the blade from the side as it came crashing down. In one fluid motion, she followed up with strikes using her elbow, heel, and fist before delivering one final thrusting jab. There was a loud bursting sound, and something like magic power exploded out of the axe and dispersed.

  “Hmph! To think such an evasion would be possible!” snarled the minotaur.

  “I drew out the power you concentrated in the blade and used it to counter the power of your swing. It’s a technique I often use to divert my rival’s attacks,” Atla replied.

  The minotaur gave a slightly irritated grunt.

  “Making such an indiscreet show of life force is just asking for it to be repelled. You need to either wait until the moment before impact to channel the life force in or just make it so concentrated that it is undetectable. You’ll never land the attack otherwise,” she continued.

  I glanced over at Raphtalia without saying anything.

  “She’s right. That’s
the least you have to do to make it through Atla’s defense,” she said.

  In other words, Atla had no problem thwarting the minotaur’s finishing move, thanks to having sparred with Raphtalia. I guess that meant their sparring was at least as intense as this fight was.

  Hmm, it sure was inconvenient not being able to see life force. I wanted to learn how already, but I just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Then again, I had a feeling I was starting to be able to see it lately.

  “I see! You mean like this!” the minotaur shouted with excitement.

  Just as Atla suggested, he swung his axe across and power erupted out of the blade at the very last second, just before impact.

  “You need practice! Now it’s my turn!” she said.

  Having crouched down to dodge the minotaur’s attack, Atla delivered a swift jab to his stomach, arm, and finally his back after passing under his arm and circling around him. Immediately after, a loud splitting sound rang out.

  “Urg . . . gah! Not a bad attack for such a frail little body . . .”

  The minotaur swallowed the blood that had filled his mouth and flashed a feisty grin at Atla.

  “Oh? It would seem you are far tougher than I expected,” she said.

  “It’s been a long time since I last fought someone who stirred my blood this much. This is starting to get fun. The effortless grace of your movements is unusual for a hakuko. I want more! Don’t let the fun stop yet!” the minotaur exclaimed.

  Atla’s opponent sure seemed to be enjoying their fight.

  “I don’t have time to spend all day fighting you, but I will admit that I’m enjoying this!” she said.

  “Then let’s do this!” he shouted before bellowing out another war cry.

  I don’t know if the minotaur used magic or what, but his horns suddenly grew longer and sharper. He crouched forward like he was about to charge and pointed his horns at Atla.

  “Oh my, that appears to be a savage attack, indeed. I’m guessing you will charge forward and then use that momentum to attack with your axe — a transfer of kinetic energy,” she said.

  “Well read, blind girl. I can confidently say that you are one of the most formidable fighters I know of, even within Siltvelt,” the minotaur replied.

  “You flatter me! I suppose I should go ahead and do something about that superhuman strength of yours,” she said.

  She stood on her tiptoes like a ballerina and held her hand out toward the minotaur. Atla sure was a lot flashier than Fohl when it came to fighting.

  I glanced over at Fohl. He was exchanging blows with Jaralis. Well, no. Actually, it was Fohl doing all of the swinging. It was a stark contrast to Atla’s defensive approach. That said, Jaralis was dodging all of his punches with some fancy footwork. On top of that, Jaralis must have been more tactically inclined than Fohl, because he was also using tools to his advantage.

  “Take this!” Jaralis shouted.

  “That again?!” Fohl moaned.

  Jaralis hurled a smoke bomb at the ground and smoke billowed up around Fohl. I really wished he would stop doing that, because it made the fight hard to see. Fohl seemed to understand the potential danger of such a thing, because he made his way out of the smoke immediately. But just as he did, Jaralis flung something that looked like metal spikes at him. Was he supposed to be some kind of ninja assassin or something? There were a bunch of similar weapons scattered around the area.

  “You fight dirty! I thought this was supposed to be a barehanded fight!” Fohl shouted.

  “Dirty? I prefer to say I fight smart!” Jaralis replied.

  He pulled out a long sword that was covered in decorations and swung it at Fohl. It must have been hidden under his cloak all this time.

  “I never said anything about bare hands. Whatever happens, the victory goes to the last man standing,” he said.

  I guess we hadn’t really set any rules regarding finer details. And Atla’s opponent was using an axe too. There were no rules against weapons. Regardless, I still didn’t like how he’d started out unarmed and then suddenly began using concealed weapons later on. Did he think he could just weasel out of things if I objected?

  “What happened to all of that confidence?!” Jaralis taunted after cutting into Fohl’s arm with the sword he’d been hiding.

  “Ugh!” Fohl groaned.

  After being attacked, he looked at the wound on his arm and then held a hand to his forehead like he’d become dizzy.

  “How underhanded can you get?” he muttered.

  “Were you not listening? Winning is all that matters!” Jaralis roared.

  “You fool. You have no concept of honor in battle. You’ll never know true strength!” Fohl shouted.

  It looked like he might pass out for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and glared at Jaralis, standing as steady as if nothing had happened.

  “What?” Jaralis muttered.

  “I don’t know what poison you used, but it will take more than that to defeat me!” Fohl exclaimed.

  Oh! He sounded like a real tough guy now. Out of curiosity, I took a look at Fohl’s stats. I should have been able to tell if he’d ingested any poisons, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. I guess that meant he’d already nullified it.

  “Just as expected of a hakuko,” the old genmu whispered.

  Fohl was growing tougher by the day, thanks to Atla. Practicing with her was supposed to help me awaken some kind of latent strength, but it almost felt like he’d beat me to it.

  “Hmph! You sure talk big for someone who can barely stand!” Jaralis roared.

  “I’ve had enough of your dirty attacks!” Fohl shouted.

  He blocked Jaralis’s swing and snapped his sword in half before slugging him in the face.

  “Gah!”

  Blood poured out of Jaralis’s nose. He grabbed his face and groaned in pain.

  “Ugh . . . How dare you . . . How dare you leave a mark on my face! You’re nothing but a pathetic hakuko half-breed!” Jaralis roared.

  This guy reminded me of someone—his hubristic way of speaking. Who was it? I knew it was someone I hadn’t interacted with much. I just remembered he had an overbearing sense of pride and managed to present himself as well-mannered while still being insolent. If you paid careful attention, it became clear he was a selfish megalomaniac.

  And then it came to me! Jaralis gave off the same vibes as Armor, one of Itsuki’s old party members. I was glad I figured that out, because it would have bothered me forever.

  “Umm, Mr. Naofumi? What are you thinking about? It’s something that has absolutely nothing to do with the duel, isn’t it?” Raphtalia asked.

  “Huh? No, not really,” I replied.

  I brushed her question off, satisfied with my revelation. It made total sense. Jaralis was a megalomaniac who was trying to take advantage of a hero. Just like Armor. And he was arrogant as hell!

  “‘Half-breed! Half-breed!’ You’re so annoying! Are your dirty tactics supposed to be noble, then?!” Fohl trounced.

  “Ugh! You never stop! The way you constantly insult me reminds me of your father!” Jaralis replied.

  “I was wondering when you would mention my father. You told me to ask with my fists, but your fists tell me nothing of him. I was just thinking how disappointing it was,” Fohl said.

  “Bah! The man was disowned by his parents and left his own country, and he still seemed to know everyone! Just thinking about him pisses me off!” Jaralis growled.

  Was he jealous? Something seemed fishy here.

  “Yeah, I talked to a hakuko who knew my father earlier this morning. He told me that you fought in the same war that my father died in,” Fohl said.

  I turned to the hakuko who was standing behind the old genmu.

  “What’s the story behind that?” I asked.

  The old genmu replied, “That hakuko boy’s father was most likely the son of Tyron, a man who once ruled over Siltvelt with his extraordinary charisma. Tyron’s son was a brave man, b
ut he disliked war and his relationship with Tyron suffered for it.”

  I could’ve guessed that much. What I was interested in was what came after that. I seemed to remember something about him getting engaged to Trash’s younger sister.

  “One day, Tyron’s son was in Melromarc attempting to finalize a peace treaty. I didn’t know this until later, but he was set up by someone in Melromarc. They murdered the members of the pacifist faction he was meeting with and then shifted the blame onto Tyron’s son,” he continued.

  “Oh?”

  “After that, Tyron’s son went missing. That is until the country, where he was hiding, got mixed up in a war. When his true identity was discovered, he was forced to go to war as a soldier for one of Siltvelt’s allies. That is most likely where he came to know Jaralis,” the genmu explained.

  Hmm . . . Having seen how that lion-bastard fought, I could imagine what might have gone wrong when the two met. Fohl’s father was a brave, valiant man. Jaralis liked to fight dirty and probably loved making surprise attacks.

  “Come on, spit it out! Tell me about my father’s final moments!” Fohl demanded.

  “Hmph! He charged straight at the enemy like a fool and died in battle, of course! The fool was vastly outnumbered and couldn’t even defeat a single enemy!” Jaralis snorted.

  “Lies! There’s no way my father was that weak! He was a kind man, but he bravely stood his ground when it came to battle!” Fohl exclaimed.

  I wondered just what kind of father he’d really been.

  “He enjoyed reading books when he was a child. His natural talents surpassed even those of Tyron’s, but he did everything he could to avoid fighting. Even so, he was no less impressive than his father when he did decide to fight,” said the old genmu.

  “So he was more of a Mr. Nice Guy?” I asked.

  The old genmu nodded. I hadn’t actually expected Mr. Nice Guy to translate. Anyway, that made sense. So he was willing to fight when necessary but tended to be mild-mannered otherwise. I was totally imagining him as a character from an anime show, manga, or some game. That type was so cliché.

  “Kind of like Master when he’s coddling Raph-chan?” Filo asked.

  “You might be on to something. Mr. Naofumi doesn’t go easy on his enemies, but considering the way he looks after everyone, they do seem pretty similar,” Raphtalia said.

 

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