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(Re:Zero) Warlock of Fascination Chapter 7: The Sword Saint's Dominance
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 14:08:59 +0000 UTCChapter 7: The Sword Saint’s Dominance
“Honestly, that appetizer of a boy wasn’t half bad,” Elsa remarked while rolling her shoulders, easing up some of the built-up lactic acid within them with a soothing pop. “Were you responsible for training him? Sword Saint.”
“No, although I’d be remiss to say I wasn’t planning on doing so, I think he has the potential to become a truly exceptional Knight.” Reinhard paced towards Elsa, the ground trembling with his every step. “It seems to me people from beyond the Great Waterfall are just naturally gifted when it comes to fighting, or perhaps Castor himself is just unique in his fighting talent.”
“Oh? That’s where he’s from? I wasn’t aware of that,” she turned around—glancing at Castor who was currently being supported by Subaru, and treated for some minor injuries by Emilia’s impressive Spirit Arts.
“It’s no use Bowel Hunter, you may be fast, but I’ll catch you long before you have a chance to get close to them.” Reinhard was particularly good at reading people when it came to battle, but his senses left much to be desired when it came to more subtle matters.
Moreover, with his Divine Blessing of Swiftness, Elsa’s impressive agility was akin to that of a turtle in front of him.
“Don’t worry, as the main course it’s only proper that I give you my undivided attention.” Elsa licked her lips, inspecting the Dragon Sword—Reid, hanging by Reinhard’s hip. “I’m honored to have the opportunity to savour the taste of that legendary sword.”
Reinhard shook his head and sighed, “I’m afraid that won’t be happening.”
“You don’t think I’m worthy enough?”
“It’s not that, Reid will only unsheath itself for someone it personally acknowledges as a laudable adversary. Until then, I’m physically incapable of brandishing it.” Reinhard tugged at the sword’s hilt to prove his point.
“Ah… That’s truly a shame,” Elsa looked genuinely disappointed. “Does that mean you plan on taking me on in hand-to-hand combat?”
“That would seem to be the case—”
“Sword Saint! Catch!”
Rom tossed a fairly ordinary-looking longsword towards Reinhard, which he caught with one hand.
“Thank you,” he nodded at Rom in appreciation before redirecting his attention to the assassin. “I’m ready when you are Bowel Hunter, since you don’t look intent on surrendering, as much as I'd rather you would.” Even when faced with such a reputably vile opponent, Reinhard maintained the noble demeanor befitting Lugunica’s strongest fighter.
“I’m disappointed you would even mention such a thing.” Elsa brandished her twin Kukuris, her focus centered on Reinhard’s neck instead of his abdomen.
Unlike her brief bout with Castor, she showed absolutely no signs of holding back even a fraction of her strength, prepared to unleash every last drop of vigour within her to face the overbearing pressure radiating off Reinhard’s being.
Swoosh!
She bolted forwards, her speed tearing through the air itself as she raised her blades upwards, determined to slice through Reinhard’s calm, almost relaxed stance.
“I prefer not to engage in battle with female opponents, but since I don’t appear to have much of a choice here—I hope you’ll excuse me.”
Even though Elsa’s trajectory made it seem like she was guaranteed to land a hit on him, Reinhard managed to effortlessly evade the encore of slashes, as if fate itself would not allow her bladed edges to touch so much as a hair on him.
Crash!
With a force that felt capable of tearing through matter itself, Reinhard kicked her in the chest, sending her flying through the air at ten times the speed that Elsa had thrown Castor—rendering all those who were spectating utterly speechless.
By all means, his front kick was nothing more than just that—an ordinary front kick.
It was the force he was capable of exuding that was special, a level of brute strength unique to him.
In the Sword Saint’s hands, even the most basic of techniques could become things of legend.
“I see, so that’s why his glow is so blinding…” Castor commented idly.
“What?” Subaru asked.
“It’s nothing.”
These wondrous things called Divine Blessings, I should investigate them when I have the chance.
“Cough Cough… You really are deserving of your title.” A trickle of blood streamed down the corner of Elsa’s mouth, her body reeling from the behemothic impact she had just endured, forcing her to push her limits if she wanted to stand upright once more.
“I don’t imagine you’d be up to surrendering now?” Reinhard asked almost jokingly.
Elsa merely scoffed in return, making it abundantly clear that her response was a resounding negative.
It was worth a shot.
“You’re as good as the rumors say… No, you’re even better.” Elsa spun her kukuri, the murderous glint in her eyes intensifying. “But I haven’t had my fill just yet, so I hope you’re alright with entertaining me a little more.”
She spun around like a Beyblade, simultaneously unleashing several knives from the confines of her cloak towards him, all thrown at different heights in order to make them harder to evade.
But she wouldn’t let the attack end there, quickly following it up by taking advantage of her blistering speed to flip through the air and target from above like she had done against Castor—just this time, she was actually using her full strength.
A two-stage attack, intended to create a weak spot in Reinhard’s defense.
“Sorry, but none of those projectiles are going to hit me.”
Castor had hypothesized that this world didn’t abide by Earth’s laws of physics. This suspicion had been backed first by Felt’s movements, then Elsa’s unbelievable speed, and finally the existence of actual Magic.
Taking all that into account, he still found himself at a loss for words as he witnessed the absolute mockery of even fantasy logic occurring before him.
The knives… simply didn’t hit.
Reinhard hadn’t blocked them, nor had he moved out of their trajectory by jumping in the air, or used some defensive spell.
They just didn’t hit, their trajectory altering elsewhere moments before they could have the chance to do so.
I can’t believe this, but I genuinely feel sorry for Elsa even though she just tried to kill me. If that happened to me, I’d give up and look for a new career path.
“The Divine Blessing of Arrow Avoidance!” Elsa yelled out in shock.
“I was given it at birth, among many other Divine Blessings.” From the way Reinhard spoke, Castor could interpret that he, too, was pitying Elsa’s situation, of all the people she could’ve fought—she had chosen to pit herself against someone who physically couldn’t lose.
The world wouldn’t tolerate harm befalling him.
Now that her knives had failed to reach Reinhard, Elsa was left with no other choice but to engage him in a direct confrontation—since she had already flipped towards him and all.
She could still put all the momentum generated through her acrobatics into the swing, but deep down, she had a feeling the battle was already long lost. Even her surging battle-mania wasn’t enough to suppress the level of hopelessness Reinhard’s might instilled within her.
The old, rustic longsword was no different than a weapon that would have songs written about it for generations in his clasp.
Clang!
With godlike precision, Reinhard’s blade handily hit the base of Elsa’s Kukuri—his unbelievable cutting ability disarming her in one swift motion, splitting the alloy of her blade from the handle.
Immediately, she flipped backwards and landed on the ground, observing the state of her weapon in absolute awe. The only reason she hadn’t been cut cleanly in two, was because Reinhard chose not to.
“You’ve lost your weapon, even if you weren’t intent on surrendering before—I think now would be a suitable time for ample reconsideration.”
“I have plenty more where that came from,” somehow, Elsa mustered up the spirit to smirk.
“So you won’t surrender until I dispatch all your armaments?”
“If I lose my fangs, I shall use my claws. If I lose my claws, I shall use my teeth. If I lose my teeth, I shall use my bones. And if I lose my bones, I shall use my life—that is what it means to truly lust for battle.” Elsa proclaimed with steadfast resolve, pouring what was, in essence, the very reason for her existence.
“I admire your determination, but I’m afraid I still have a responsibility to fulfill.” Reinhard adopted a low stance, causing the space within the Loot House to start to warp, all the Mana in the atmosphere gathering towards him, magnetizing around his blade.
“To think I’ll be graced by one of the Sword Saint’s techniques, I’ve never been more content with my decision to pursue this life.” Despite everything, Elsa still wanted to fight Reinhard—even if the odds were tilted in this being the last thing she ever did.
This is why I abhor violence, it makes people stupid!
“Loving violence is not the same as loving battle. Any crude figure can adore violence. Loving battle is an art-form. You should be learning from the sight in front of us.”
No, as you said—you’re the Sword, I’m the Brain. All this stuff is your specialty, I have no reason to get involved.
“Sigh. It seems there’s still much work to be done. Oh well. That's to be expected. Your journey has only just begun.”
The room’s temperature rapidly dropped, and thanks to her light clothing, goosebumps appeared all over Felt’s skin.
“This is the Astrea Family’s Swordplay; I’d rather not utilize it. However, I doubt your bloodlust will be satiated otherwise.”
“Castor!” Subaru noticed Castor’s complexion grow noticeably pale, his eyes constantly flashing a dim gold as he took labored breaths.
Bastard! Just use one of your other physics-defying abilities to beat her! Don’t drag me into this!
“If anything. You should be taking this as a compliment.”
“Impossible!” Emilia’s eyes widened, her mind quickly piecing together what was happening.
“Emilia! Do you know what’s happening to him?”
She nodded, “Reinhard’s swordsmanship works by absorbing all the Mana surrounding him, including that of the people around him—however, it’s supposed to target the person with the deepest magical reserves in the vicinity, which should be me…”
Instead, it was targeting Castor.
She looked at the bookworm in disbelief.
This could only mean one thing.
His magical reserves were deeper than hers! Until now, the only person she had come across who could even rival the depth of her mana pool was her sponsor.
“Your friend will be fine. His Gate seems to have a remarkable level of toughness, he’ll be able to endure the burden of supplying Reinhard’s technique.”
“I still feel like shit,” Castor grumbled. “Your flattery isn’t helping.”
Shouldn’t taking someone’s Mana without consent be in violation of some law? I demand to know my rights immediately! Wait, I’m not a citizen of Lugunica, am I? Damnit! I don’t have any rights!
The overwhelming aura from Reinhard’s sword enveloped the room.
Elsa’s lips started twitching as if she were forcing them to curl upwards.
And after inhaling sharply—Reinhard made his move.
BOOM!
A brilliant light tore through the Loot House, and for a split second, the world itself looked like it had been misaligned. The extremely bright-gold light, chalk full of Castor’s Yang Magic, dyed the room briefly before it returned to its usual color, the scenery around them taking a few seconds to readjust.
The aftershock was so potent that it was like a hurricane had just descended upon the Royal Capital’s slums, debris, and soil. All of the carefully acquired treasure in the Loot House was sent flying to God-knows-where. Felt, Subaru, Emilia, Castor, and even Rom were worried that their bodies would be sent soaring through the air all the same.
Reinhard had torn space in two.
“What the fuck!?” Understandably, Subaru couldn’t help but gawk upon seeing a literal fissure created where the Loot House’s flooring once stood. In its present state, the establishment could no longer be described as anything more than ruins. “That redhead’s a monster!”
“Ahem,” Castor cleared his throat. “He wouldn’t have been able to do that without me—just saying.”
“Oh, right, you did great as well Cas.” Subaru gave him a thumbs-up with an ear-to-ear smile.
Yes, I did— Wait! Did he just call me “Cas”? I didn’t permit him to use a nickname!
Reinhard’s crimson hair had been ruffled by the shockwave his attack caused, and for once, traces of sweat appeared across his face. Confirming that his swing had indeed been at minimum, a semi-serious one.
“Sorry, I pushed you too far,” the sword Rom had handed Reinhard started to crumble away in his hands. “Rest easy.”
“Oi!” Castor yelled at him from afar, “I’m the one you pushed too far! Stop pitying the sword!”
Reinhard couldn’t help but wear a faint smile. “I guess Knight training isn’t going to be enough for him; he’ll need a bit of help from the Court Mages as well if he’s going to realize his full potential.” He murmured to himself, walking towards them.
Elsa had narrowly survived his attack through the use of some Yang enhancement that had been placed on her cloak, and chosen to make a full retreat—with the Sword Saint’s level of awareness, trying to pull a fast one all him would just be wasting the very fortunate survival odds she had just gambled on.
Their mission was now over, it was time for Emilia to regain her insignia.
