Satsuki was unmoved by Salvatore's words.
A Godslayer might appear overwhelmingly powerful in the eyes of this world's people, but in her eyes, he was still far from being a true threat.
However, differences in information often created situations that were almost laughable.
For example, Salvatore. Even though he had learned from Lucretia that Satsuki was far from ordinary, he still placed himself firmly in the position of the "strong."
If he truly understood what Satsuki had accomplished in that battle on Sardinia, he would never remain so relaxed.
At this moment, Salvatore did not even assume a formal stance. He simply held his sword casually in his right hand, yet the Authority radiating from him created a pressure like a razor scraping across one's scalp.
Lucretia had already retreated far away. Although she had recovered part of her spell power, she could not endure the oppressive aura of the King of Swords as easily as Satsuki could.
Yet Satsuki's reaction and attitude truly exceeded Lucretia's expectations.
After all—earlier, in order to build goodwill with her, Lucretia had subtly passed along information regarding Godslayers. (It had been mentioned before that part of Satsuki's knowledge about Godslayers came from Lucretia's library.)
If Satsuki had seriously read those books, she should have known just how terrifying this seemingly foolish man truly was.
However, Lucretia had never considered one question—just how strong was Satsuki?
Her intuition was indeed sharp. She could tell that Satsuki was stronger than both herself and Erica—but how strong, exactly, she could not judge.
As a result, Satsuki's next action made her eyelids twitch violently.
Satsuki strolled to a nearby tree in the park and picked up a branch from the ground, roughly the length of her arm. She gave it two casual swings in the air, then turned her golden eyes toward Salvatore.
"Then, let us begin."
In the next instant, Satsuki's figure vanished.
Facing the leader of the Southern European magical alliance, one of the world's seven remaining Godslayers—a being who had slain a god through swordsmanship alone—not only did she arrogantly choose a mere branch as her weapon, she even ignored his pressure entirely and launched the first attack.
"Good!"
The sudden disappearance of her figure caused Salvatore to rotate his double-edged sword lightly clockwise. It was a simple motion—yet in that instant, it enveloped the surrounding space.
Clang—
Amid a burst of sparks, Salvatore blocked a strike that seemed to thrust out from a crack in space itself. Before he could even marvel at the tremendous force contained within that branch—so heavy that even his Steel Protection felt strained—the withered twig traced a graceful arc and silently swept toward the left side of the King of Swords' neck.
Clink—
The two "swords" crossed.
What followed was even more absurd.
The black-haired girl wielding a dead branch sent the "Campione" flying with a single strike.
The King of Swords being driven back by a withered branch—such a scene would have been unbelievable even in a dream.
Was it an illusion?
Lucretia stared in shock. It was clearly an ordinary branch—how could it accomplish something like that?
What about Steel Protection? What about the Demon Sword that Cuts All?
Yet after being knocked back, the King of Swords revealed a delighted expression.
"Good!"
Lucretia could not perceive the subtlety of that strike—but Salvatore, hailed as the King of Swords, could.
It was a strike that transcended spatial boundaries. A strike capable of piercing Divine Protection.
With that single exchange, he cast aside all contempt and acknowledged that the witch before him was his equal.
Thus—the King of Swords retaliated with his own slash.
In Lucretia's eyes, his wrist and sword vanished like a mirage.
No—in the instant it seemed to disappear, the truth was that his swing had exceeded the limits of her dynamic vision.
Then, in less than a tenth of a second—
Accompanied by surging battle intent came a streak of brilliant silver light that seemed to carve across a canvas. The King of Swords responded with a slash that likewise tore through space.
Yet just as the silver light was about to cleave both Satsuki and the space she occupied in two—
A raging gale erupted. In an instant, Satsuki's figure vanished beneath that sword light.
She had reacted to a strike of such speed—and even launched a counterattack?
A peerless killing intent surged toward Salvatore from his left side. Only then did the faint sound of the irregular branch slicing through the air barely reach the King of Swords' ears.
An attack beyond the speed of sound left no room for hesitation. As if fully expecting her evasion, Salvatore flipped his right hand. The massive double-edged sword that had just cut through the space ahead did not slow—instead, it accelerated, rotating in a half-circle centered on himself, intercepting Satsuki's path. The space in that region was severed once more.
What followed exceeded Lucretia's comprehension entirely.
The branch in Satsuki's hand rippled like water the instant the silver gleam swept across it, as though it had slipped into another dimension—yet its momentum did not diminish in the slightest.
Such a change clearly surprised even the King of Swords. Instinctively, he unleashed his Authority.
A terrifying surge of spell power erupted from his body. In an instant, his right wrist turned silver.
The Demon Sword that Cuts All activated. The surface of the double-edged blade reflected a blinding silver radiance, and its edge emitted a sound like dragons roaring and tigers howling as it expanded infinitely within Satsuki's vision.
Satsuki keenly sensed it—her strike, which had traversed different temporal frames and layers of space, had encountered resistance. If it advanced further, the branch itself—the "blade"—would be severed by that Authority.
That outcome—the King of Swords could foresee it as well. His thoughts had already raced ahead, calculating what action Satsuki would take after retreating.
Thus, at the moment her figure seemed restrained by that sword—
An endless barrage of slashes descended like a torrential storm.
Slash.
Slash slash.
Slash slash slash.
Slash slash slash slash slash slash slash slash slash slash slash.
Under the silver radiance, the surrounding space itself seemed distorted. In a single instant, it was engraved with countless cuts, like a mirror etched with endless fractures.
Through the Tenseigan, all that could be seen was the terrifying sword light in space—sharp beyond measure—suppressing all, obscuring all, destroying all, annihilating all. Even within her consciousness, countless crisscrossing sword marks seemed to appear across Satsuki's kimono in an instant.
The sword severs the body—the heart severs the soul.
This was the realm of the Swordmaster that Satsuki had once displayed in the world of Inuyasha.
However, such a level of swordsmanship was still insufficient to shake her.
"Not bad."
Her voice rang lightly and ethereally within the sea of consciousness.
Within the endless white light, she gathered her momentum and drew in her "blade," shifting seamlessly into the opening stance of iaido.
At the instant the sword's note rang out, space itself seemed to split open, connecting to the vacuum of the universe. Boundless stars shimmered around her, then transformed into resplendent sword energy that erupted in a single instant.
Clang!
This was the legendary supreme secret of swordsmanship.
—"Issen."
One capable of performing Issen had already surpassed the realm of the Swordmaster.
Such beings, having transcended into the sacred through the path of the sword, were honored as Sword Saints.
And for Satsuki—purely in terms of swordsmanship—she had already reached that realm.
...
In the twilight dusk, a gentle breeze drifted through the air.
There were no stars, no silver radiance. It was as though everything seen before had been nothing more than an illusion. After that dazzling brilliance, only silence remained.
What was the result?
Whether it was Lucretia or the Committee for the Compilation of True History observing from the shadows, that instantaneous clash had clearly surpassed the limits of their comprehension. At this moment, none of them could determine the outcome.
The hem of her sleeve fluttered softly in the wind. Satsuki stood unharmed, her kimono without the slightest tear, maintaining her draw-slash posture at one side.
The branch in her hand, however, crumbled into powder and scattered in the breeze.
On the other side, white light still enveloped Salvatore's arm. The Authority formed by spell power seemed to contain inexhaustible strength, coiling around his arm and double-edged sword. He did not move either. His once neatly combed hair had become a disheveled mess. The cheerful expression he usually wore had turned intensely focused, light flickering within his eyes as though flames burned there.
His gaze was fixed on the center of gravity of his blade.
Crack—
With a sharp sound, countless spiderweb-like fractures suddenly spread across the silver double-edged sword. With a shattering crash, the Demon Sword that had been capable of severing space moments ago broke into innumerable fragments.
Faint golden-green sword light continued to slash across those fragments even as they fell.
"Impressive! Truly impressive. This round is my defeat!"
Releasing his grip on the sword, the King of Swords revealed a bright smile.
"From the way you hold a blade, it is clear you have not trained in swordsmanship for very long. Yet whether one trains for decades or possesses great talent, the weak remain weak, and those who are inherently strong remain strong even without deliberate study. Only by fighting such powerful opponents can one call it battle!"
This was the worldview of the King of Swords—a man gifted with heterodox genius.
Yet Satsuki held her own perspective.
Weakness and strength were merely relative concepts. Still, she did not deny that those who were already powerful in one aspect progressed far more rapidly when touching similar domains.
The King of Swords' judgment was accurate. In the way of the blade, Satsuki was precisely such a case.
"So, the duel is over. Is there anything else? If not, I will be going home."
Her tone was as casual as if asking what to have for dinner. Although neither side had used their full strength, in terms of results, Satsuki had indeed defeated one of the seven Godslayers—the King of Swords—through pure swordsmanship.
If this achievement were made public, it would send tidal waves through the entire world. In the blink of an eye, she would become a towering figure who shook the whole magical community.
For most people, such temptation would be impossible to refuse.
Thus, both Lucretia and the Committee for the Compilation of True History hidden in the shadows were utterly stunned when they heard her words.
"Ha, hahaha, hahahahaha!"
Only the King of Swords could laugh so heartily in such a moment.
"As expected of one strong enough to defeat me. Even among the powerful I have known, few possess such magnanimity."
The spell power coiling around his wrist gathered once more. The silvery substance twisted and formed in midair, reconstructing into a pristine silver double-edged sword identical to the one he had used before. He placed it back into the sword case he carried.
He had no intention of continuing the fight.
The King of Swords had once trained his eyesight by slicing through falling raindrops, honing himself to achieve such godlike speed that his blade seemed to vanish in an instant.
Yet no matter how swift the slash, before the sword art Issen—which could be unleashed in zero time—it was pale and powerless.
For speed implied the existence of time, while Issen was the realm of nothingness.
Before that flash, space itself ceased to exist.
Understanding the gulf between them—that was why he admitted defeat so readily.
If she had wielded a divine weapon capable of enduring that instantaneous spatial severance, it would not merely have been his weapon destroyed. Even with Steel Protection, he would likely have suffered severe injury.
If the battle continued, perhaps by invoking other Authorities he might eventually claim victory. But that was not what he sought.
Watching Satsuki's retreating figure grow distant, the King of Swords smiled once more. Yet such a defeat would not extinguish his ambition.
This had only been the first round. The true spectacle was just beginning.
With that thought, he hoisted his sword case onto his back and walked away in the opposite direction.
Still, one question lingered briefly in his mind.
"With strength like that—why was it that little Erica who became the Godslayer?"
Soon enough, however, he abandoned the thought.
For him, only the strength of his opponent mattered. Everything else was irrelevant.
...
"The one called Satsuki has won. This intelligence must be reported."
Having watched the battle through a certain ninja tool, Amakasu Touma, concealed in the shadows, took out his phone and began typing an email.
A reply filled with astonishment soon appeared on the screen.
"You saw it with your own eyes?"
After sending back a simple "Yes," Amakasu finally let out a breath of relief. Only then did he realize that his back was soaked in cold sweat. Throughout the entire exchange, he had not even dared to breathe too deeply.
Before long, new instructions arrived via phone.
"Send someone to make contact. If possible, attempt to recruit her."
As expected.
Closing the phone, Amakasu rubbed his forehead. The most suitable candidate he could think of was the Shrine Maiden Yuri Mariya.
At the same time, he recalled a conversation from two weeks prior—with that Godslayer.
(She may be quite willful. I hope you can offer her protection within your means.)
Heh...
How ironic those words sounded now.
The one whom the "Campione" had claimed required protection possessed strength terrifying enough to defeat the King of Swords. What protection could they possibly offer such an existence?
Moreover, that Erica was clearly a member of the Copper-Black Cross. Why would she care so deeply about an outsider—enough to even risk betraying her own "Campione" in secret?
Amakasu Touma, born of ninja lineage, could not understand.
Nor was the Committee for the Compilation of True History the only one surprised by this outcome.
When Satsuki returned unhurriedly to her residence, she saw Erica.
The "Campione," dressed in a red gown, was looking at her with a gaze more conflicted than ever before.
"It's late. Did you need something?"
As the red figure approached, Satsuki, unusually, greeted her first. Her tone remained as calm as ever, giving no indication that she had just crossed blades with the King of Swords.
The one known as the Red Devil said nothing as she walked toward Satsuki.
At first her steps were steady. But the closer she drew, the faster her pace became—until she was nearly running.
Protected by multiple defensive measures such as the Dead Line Boundary, Satsuki did not fear a sudden attack. The Tenseigan revealed no sign that the girl before her was an impostor.
Though puzzled, she merely stood still and watched Erica run toward her.
What happened next caused Satsuki's star-like golden pupils to contract.
The blond girl threw her arms around her and held her tight.
"Am I an idiot?"
"On that point... I find it difficult to argue."