Chapter 26 – A Hero’s Burden

【Reiji PoV】

Ryuuji forgave him.

The words echoed in my head, a jarring and unwelcome rhythm.

Siegfried, a man who lied to an entire town, who tried to steal a sacred treasure, who threatened us, was still alive.

He was sitting in a cell because Ryuuji, for some reason I couldn’t possibly comprehend, had decided to spare him.

I trusted Ryuuji.

His plans always worked out in ways that left me dizzy.

His judgment was sound.

He saw things the rest of us missed.

But this felt different.

This felt wrong.

I stood in a dusty training yard on the outskirts of Olvido.

The sun beat down, baking the hard-packed dirt.

Splintered wooden posts, hacked and bludgeoned into submission, served as our practice dummies.

Across from me, Daisuke stretched, his massive frame moving with a quiet efficiency.

We were here to get stronger.

But strength felt like a blunt instrument when the real problem was a question of trust.

A cold knot of fear tightened in my gut.

It was a specific kind of fear.

The image of Siegfried’s sneering face, twisted with a vow of revenge, flashed in my mind.

He would take advantage of Ryuuji’s good heart.

It wasn’t a possibility; it was a certainty.

Men like Siegfried saw kindness as a weakness to be exploited.

And when he made his move, it wouldn’t be Ryuuji who would stop him.

It would be us.

I gripped the hilt of my sword, the worn leather familiar in my palm. If Siegfried laid a hand on Ryuuji, I would kill him.

Daisuke would be right beside me.

And Reina… the thought of what Reina would do sent a shiver down my spine.

We would become murderers to protect him.

Even if Ryuuji hated us for it, even if he saw us as monsters, it was a price I was willing to pay.

He and Reina were off on a “date” today.

They deserved the break. But for me and Daisuke, relaxing wasn’t an option.

The shield has to be stronger than the threats against it.

Daisuke finished his stretches and picked up his enormous two-handed sword.

He settled into a low stance, the tip of the blade resting lightly on the ground.

He looked at me and gave a single, sharp nod.

It was time to work.

“Ready?”

He answered with a grunt, his knuckles white around the grip of his weapon.

“Best two out of three. Let’s start slow. Form and control.”

Daisuke nodded again.

I knew he hated starting slow.

He was a creature of pure momentum and overwhelming force.

But he respected the process.

He respected me.

And right now, that trust was the only thing holding my own doubts at bay.

I raised my own longsword, its silver blade gleaming in the harsh sunlight.

I was a Hero.

My skills were meant to be balanced, a blend of offense and defense, of physical prowess and tactical thought.

Daisuke was a Warrior, a living battering ram.

Our styles couldn’t be more different.

“Begin.”

Daisuke moved.

He didn’t explode into motion.

He flowed forward, his massive sword scything in a low arc aimed at my legs.

It was a simple, predictable opening.

I stepped back easily, the gust of wind from his blade brushing against my shins.

“Too slow.”

He grunted again, this time with annoyance.

He immediately reversed his grip, bringing the sword around in a rising slash.

The attack was faster, more committed.

I met it with my own blade.

The clang of steel echoed across the empty yard.

The impact vibrated up my arm, a familiar and jarring shock.

His strength was absurd.

I pushed him back, using his momentum against him to create space.

“Good. Again.”

We fell into a rhythm.

He would attack, I would parry or dodge.

I focused on my footwork, keeping myself balanced, always ready to pivot.

He focused on his chain of attacks, trying to find a flaw in my defense, a single opening he could exploit with his raw power.

The sun climbed higher in the sky.

Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging my eyes.

My muscles began to burn with a dull ache.

Daisuke was getting better.

His movements were becoming more fluid.

He wasn’t just swinging his sword anymore; he was putting his entire body into each strike, each slash a symphony of controlled power.

He feinted high, then brought the blade around in a devastating sweep at my waist.

I barely managed to get my shield up in time.

CLANG!

The force of the blow sent me stumbling back a step.

My shield arm screamed in protest.

The wooden shield itself, reinforced with iron bands, now had a deep gouge in it.

Daisuke didn’t press the advantage.

He just stood there, breathing heavily, waiting.

“You’re relying too much on the shield.”

“It’s what it’s for.”

He shook his head, a rare sign of clear disagreement.

“If I were faster, you’d be disarmed.”

He was right.

I knew he was right.

I was letting my equipment do the work instead of my skill.

It was a lazy habit, and against a truly skilled opponent, it would be fatal.

It was the exact same problem we had with Siegfried.

We hadn’t out-skilled him.

We had just mobbed him.

Three-on-one, a flurry of chaotic attacks until he went down.

We had won with brute force and numbers.

That thought chilled me to the bone.

“Alright. No shield.”

I unstrapped the battered shield from my arm and tossed it to the side.

It landed in the dust with a dull thud.

Now it was just my sword against his.

Skill against power.

“Again.”

He nodded, a flicker of respect in his dark eyes.

This time, when he came at me, it was different.

He was faster.

More aggressive.

Without the shield to fall back on, I was forced into a dance of pure offense and defense.

Our blades met in a shower of sparks.

I parried, sidestepped, and lunged.

He blocked, spun, and countered with overwhelming force.

He drove me back across the yard.

Every block sent a painful shock through my arms.

My sword felt impossibly heavy.

My lungs burned.

He was a machine, relentless and untiring.

He swung his massive blade in a downward arc, aiming to split me in two.

All I could do was meet it head-on.

I angled my sword, trying to deflect the blow. The impact was immense. My knees buckled.

My blade was knocked from my numb fingers, spinning through the air before landing in the dirt several feet away.

Daisuke’s sword stopped a hair’s breadth from my neck.

Silence descended.

The only sounds were our ragged breaths and the buzzing of a fly somewhere nearby.

I stared up at him, defeat settling like a stone in my stomach.

He withdrew his sword and offered me a hand.

I took it, and he hauled me to my feet as if I weighed nothing.

“I lose.”

He just shook his head.

“Tired.”

He wasn’t wrong.

I was exhausted.

But it was more than that.

It was a failure of technique.

A failure of strategy.

I walked over and picked up my sword, my hand still trembling slightly.

“We beat Siegfried by ganging up on him.”

Daisuke leaned on his sword, using it like a cane.

He nodded.

“We overwhelmed him.It wasn’t skill. It was brute force.”

Another nod.

“What happens when we can’t do that? What happens when we face someone who is just as strong as us, or stronger? Someone who is smart, who uses tactics? We’ll lose, Daisuke. We’ll be taken apart.”

He looked at me, his expression serious.

He understood.

He’d probably understood before I did.

“We get better.”

It was so simple.

So direct.

For Daisuke, the path was always forward.

If there was a wall, you smashed it.

If there was a weakness, you trained until it was a strength.

“Better isn’t just about getting stronger. It’s about getting smarter. We need to learn how to fight as a team. How to anticipate each other. How to use our skills together.”

I stopped and looked at him, my frustration giving way to a new kind of determination.

Ryuuji doesn’t fight with a sword.

He fights with his mind.

He’s playing a different game, on a level we can’t even see.

We can’t help him there.

But we can make sure nothing ever touches him.

We have to be the perfect shield.

A smart shield.

One that can’t be broken.

Daisuke stood up straight, his exhaustion seemingly vanishing.

He lifted his sword and settled back into his ready stance.

“Again.”