Vol 1 Chapter 6 – This Is My Beloved Sword—A Partner Bound by Mutual Trust

Al yanks me downward, and I slam into the ground.

…Without any blessing to cushion me, it’s just an ordinary free-fall.

Even after dropping from a considerable height, he doesn’t show so much as a tingling foot, let alone a broken bone.

Seriously, what is with this guy…?

“Uh… who’re you supposed to be?”

The woman who’d been facing the demon turns toward Al, her face twisted in suspicion.

Judging by her build, she doesn’t look like the nimble fighting type.

Those huge breasts must get in the way.

I’ll hack them off for her later. They’re a nuisance.

Lopping them off is part of a Holy Sword’s job description. No need to hold back.

“Hmph…”

“Why’re ya just smilin’ all cryptic-like?”

Al says nothing, deepening the woman’s confusion.

He thinks that looks cool. Don’t tease him.

Only I’m allowed to mock him.

The woman’s eyes shift to Rasha, who’s in Al’s arms.

“R-Rasha!?”

“H-Hannah…”

Looks like they know each other.

Well, they’re from the same village, so that tracks.

Hannah—so that’s her name—rushes over. Al must not see her as a threat, because he carefully passes the injured Rasha to her.

“You know her? Then I’ll leave her with you. She’s wounded.”

“Got it! Horyaa!”

“Kyaaa!?”

Zero hesitation.

Hannah whips a vial from her pocket and splashes its contents all over Rasha.

Is that a declaration of war?

Apparently not—the shoulder wound that needed a doctor closes up before our eyes.

Ah, so it’s a potion.

A potion that potent must be rare, yet she used it on Rasha without blinking.

I would never waste a valuable item on someone else.

Well, whatever…

Since it was poured over her head, Rasha’s clothes are now clinging to her body…

“…They’re see-through and kinda sexy now.”

“A-ahh!?”

Rasha looks downright provocative.

She hurriedly tries to cover her chest with her hands.

“Tsk.” For a farm girl she’s got quite the rack.

Not that any of the men here are paying attention.

“It’s fine. Al’s an evil-eradication machine; that stuff doesn’t interest him.”

“You sayin’ my Rasha’s not attractive?”

“Al! Watch out—she’s a total pain to deal with!”

This damn busty chick is glaring daggers at me!

You sure you wanna look at me that way? I’ll sic Al on you.

“So there are still stragglers resisting? Humans really are useless… the same worthless race as ever.”

“Looking down on an entire race isn’t admirable.”

“Hard not to, when they’re inferior in strength, mana, and brains.”

“Whatever. Whether you despise humans or not means nothing to me.”

Al and the demon start talking.

It’s anything but friendly.

They’ve already decided the other must be eliminated.

“What you’re doing is unmistakable evil. I’ll punish you with my own hands and make you regret ever being born.”

Al’s idea of punishment is terrifying.

A Hero who says he’ll make you regret being alive? Never seen one of those.

I can’t fathom how he calls himself a Hero with that mindset.

“Sounds fun. Bring it.”

“”Hmph,” let’s go, my beloved sword.”

“Don’t call me your beloved sword!”

Al hefts me—the sword whose tip is caked with a massive chunk of rubble—and charges the demon.

◆

The demon’s name was Keith.

His job: bodyguard for these bandits.

“(A demon like me, playing guard dog for human criminals… makes no damn sense.)”

Even Keith himself thought so.

Like most demons, he looked down on humanity; the idea of working amicably with them was absurd.

“(If it weren’t the boss’s orders, I’d butcher them all right now…)”

He wasn’t here for money. Orders from his superior were the only reason he took this job.

He had no clue how it served any purpose, but that person was never wrong.

So, suppressing his irritation, Keith stuck to being the bandits’ bodyguard.

“I’d like to wrap up this boring gig soon. So hurry up and die, will ya?”

“You’re the one who’ll die, villain. I’ll slaughter every last one of you.”

“Even a self-styled Hero shouldn’t be saying stuff like that…”

The unexpectedly aggressive intruder—Alvarado—faced him.

In his hands was a finely crafted sword.

Keith judged it to be the work of a renowned smith.

He wasn’t a weapons expert, but as a warrior he knew quality when he saw it.

Still…

“Why’s the tip crusted with rubble…?”

A bit of grime is understandable.

Weapons get filthy with blood and iron on the battlefield.

Neglecting maintenance is disgraceful, but at least dirt makes sense.

Yet the thing on Alvarado’s blade wasn’t dirt—it was rubble.

Utterly bizarre.

“What the hell is that weapon…?”

“Hey! That makes it sound like I’m the weird one! Al, explain properly—it’s because you yanked me out by force!”

“She’s my beloved sword—a partner bound by trust.”

“Why do you lie as easily as breathing…?”

The spirit looks at Alvarado in utter bewilderment.

For some reason, her gaze on Keith burns with intensity.

Not affection—more like a plea of “please kill this guy.”

Aren’t they allies…? Keith wonders, but he decides to oblige that expectation.

He’s going to kill her, too, after all.

“Come on, then. I’ll show you the power gap between humans and demons.”

Above Keith’s head, a mass of lightning forms, “rumble rumble” with a fearsome roar.