The sands of the arena shimmered, reflecting the relentless clash of steel. Kaito moved like a phantom, Durandal a blur in his hands, parrying, weaving, and striking with a precision born of countless failures. Opposite him, Roland, clad in nothing but blackness, moved with an equally flawless grace, his own sword a silver streak in the simulated air. This wasn't just a fight; it was an intricate, brutal dance they had performed a thousand times before. Kaito pushed, Roland yielded; Roland thrust, Kaito deflected. Each feint, each riposte, was familiar, honed through an eternity of attempts.
But this time, something was different. Kaito's movements, fueled by his recovery and the sheer, raw power now flowing more freely through him, possessed a newfound finality. He saw the openings faster, exploited them more decisively. With a sudden, explosive burst of speed, he feigned a high cut, then twisted, driving Durandal low. Roland, always reacting, moved to block the expected blow, but Kaito had already shifted, pulling Durandal back and then thrusting forward in a blindingly fast lunge.
The blade found its mark, piercing Roland's side. He staggered, a phantom groan echoing through the arena as his form flickered and dissolved into a shower of light.
Silence. Then, a voice, playful and triumphant, echoed in Kaito's mind.
"Bravo, Kaito! Finally! A true breakthrough!"
White and red petals, impossibly real, rained down from the ethereal sky of the arena, swirling around Kaito in a whimsical, celebratory cascade. Durandal pulsed with vibrant energy, congratulating him in her own unique way.
"That was quite the show. You truly pushed past your limits!" Durandal chirped, her voice bubbling with delight. "How about we try an even higher difficulty of Roland? Same condition as before, of course. Just this time, more motivated as his financial woes are recovering."
Kaito leaned on Durandal, catching his breath, a weary but profound sense of accomplishment settling over him. He had done it. After what felt like an eternity, he had finally overcome. But the thought of another round, another "higher difficulty" Roland, already made his muscles ache. He knew, however, that this was the path to becoming strong enough to save Maria.
"Alright," Kaito finally murmured, pushing himself to his feet. "Let's do it."
He stepped back into the arena, the familiar sands crunching underfoot. Roland materialized before him, armored and imposing, just as he had been countless times before. Kaito gripped Durandal, ready for the intense, grueling dance he knew so well. He was used to Roland's attack patterns now, mentally prepared for every parry and thrust.
The shadowy knight moved with an impossible fluidity, his hand reaching not for his familiar longsword, but pulling a gleaming spear from seemingly nowhere. He lunged, a swift, unexpected thrust. Kaito dodged, only for Roland to seamlessly transition, a bow and arrow appearing in his grasp, an arrow nocked and loosed in the same impossibly fluid motion. Kaito tried to deflect it with Durandal, but it bends around his blade, entangling his knee in spectral vine.
Before he could recover, Roland was upon him with a massive greatsword, its heavy blade swinging in a devastating arc. Kaito barely managed to block, the impact jarring his arms. Then, a crushing maul appeared, followed by a sturdy shield that Roland used to bash him back. He saw a wicked scythe flash, then a brutal chain sword, weapons appearing and disappearing out of thin air, each wielded with lethal precision.
Suddenly, Roland glowed faintly. Kaito felt a shift in the air, as if the very wind was moving Roland. The knight moved with the speed of wind and the reaction speed of lightning, his attacks becoming an overwhelming flurry of combos that Kaito simply couldn't track. He was driven back, overwhelmed by the sheer, relentless assault from a dozen different angles, a dozen different weapons. Kaito tried to defend, tried to counter, but Roland's movements were too fast, too unpredictable.
A final, impossible strike found its mark. Kaito's vision blurred, and the arena dissolved as he fell, defeated once more.
"What in the world was that?" Kaito demanded, addressing Durandal. His voice was raw with disbelief and frustration. "The legends of Roland... they never depicted him using other weapons! He was 'Roland of the Holy Blade,' not 'Roland of the Arsenal'!"
Durandal's voice, usually light with mischief and song, shifted unexpectedly into something sharper, tinged with an old, simmering indignation. "Oh, that insufferable cheater…" she muttered, half to herself. "The legends always dress it up, painting him in shining strokes of heroism, but they conveniently skip over the finer details. Roland wasn't just brave or strong, he was a collector. A hoarder of enchanted oddities. He would wield other sentient artifacts in the heat of battle—lesser weapon, whispering charms, enchanted buckles and baubles—all of them lending their powers to his cause."
She scoffed. "Of course, I was always the brightest star in that constellation, the most powerful and noble by far. But even so, it gnaws at me. I would be in the midst of a duel, and then, suddenly, he'd call on some dusty little spirit-bound ring to tip the balance. It wasn't dishonorable, not exactly, but it was… frustrating. As though I alone didn't suffice."
There was a pause, heavy with memory, and then her voice softened again, wistful. "I suppose that's just how he was. Never trusted even his own strength to be enough."
Noticing the flicker of emotion on her face but still pressing for answers, Kaito asked gently, "could you give me a hint about the kinds of weapon he uses?"
Durandal huffed, a faint, annoyed hum resonating in his mind. "Hmph. Must you ask? Reliving those junks is hardly my favorite pastime. But fine. For the sake of your education, Kaito, I shall list them, though none, of course, hold a candle to my own glory."
"First, of course, there was me," Durandal began, a proud lilt in her voice. "Though you've yet to witness my full splendor. I'm indestructible, forged with sacred relics embedded within my blade—holy, eternal, and unmatched."
"Then there were the lesser, yet undeniably potent, trinkets he collected over the years..."
"Morthavius — a dwarven-forged maul. It shattered magical defenses through sheer force and unleashed seismic shockwaves with every strike."
"Aegis of the Ashen Saint — a shield imbued with a fragment of the ashen saint's mortal remains. It could reflect spells and conjure a divine barrier strong enough to repel even death itself."
"Caelithar — an elven longbow that required no quiver. Its arrows curved mid-flight to strike around cover, and rather than piercing, they ensnared. Elegant and annoying."
"Serpent's Lash — a living chain sword unearthed in a sun-bleached tomb. Poisoned, intelligent, and disturbingly obedient. It could extend for indefinitely and strike at any angle with a mere thought."
"Nyx and Eos — twin blades named after deities, imbued with shadow and light. When wielded together, they could lull even titans into sleep or disorientation, wrapping their minds in twilight."
"Gravemind — a battle scythe stolen from some necromancer-king. It siphoned life on contact and grew sharper with every soul it harvested."
"Valkryn — a spear gifted by a fallen Valkyrie. It channeled storms and struck through illusions, spirits, or projection damaging the sources regardless of where they are hiding."
"Whisperfang — a ridiculous dagger. Completely invisible once drawn and always getting misplaced. Roland swore it was cursed, I just think he was careless."
"The Harrowed Urn" — Roland stole it from a temple. It contained the soul of a forgotten war god and could summon spectral blades to strike from nowhere. He called it 'insurance'.'"
"As for magic, Roland only ever dabbled in enchantment and utility magic. He saw other kinds, like direct elemental blasts or conjurations, as crude, unbecoming of his 'heroism."
Kaito's mind reeled, trying to process the sheer breadth of Roland's cunning. A warrior who collected sentient weapons, each with its own power and personality. It was overwhelming, a stark contrast to his own single, if divine, blade. A new thought, a desperate hope, sparked within him.
"Durandal," Kaito asked, his voice hesitant but firm, "can I... can I also learn how to use magic? Like Roland did, with enchantments and utility spells?"
Durandal's voice, surprisingly, held a note of amusement. "Kaito, you can already do so."
Kaito blinked. "What? How?"
"You simply need to concentrate on the Skill Menu," Durandal replied, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "And then select it from your spell list."
"Skill Menu?" Kaito repeated, utterly confused. He looked around the ethereal arena, then at his own hands, as if expecting a magical interface to materialize. "What are you talking about?"
Durandal sighed, a sound akin to the rustle of silk. "It's always there, Kaito. Just look for it."
Still bewildered, Kaito followed her instruction, focusing his gaze inward, searching his perception. He felt foolish, but he concentrated, pushing past his confusion. And then, at the very edge of his vision, he noticed it. A faint, translucent shimmer, like a shimmering overlay that had always been there but he hadn't registered. It was a subtle, almost ethereal interface. He squinted, trying to make it clearer, and suddenly, text solidified: 'Skill', 'Inventory', 'Status'.
Seeing the 'Skill' option, Kaito mentally willed it open, even gesturing his hand instinctively as if to physically press a button in the air. The interface shimmered, expanding to reveal a list.
Skill List
Passive Skills:
Durandal's Blessing
Resonance
Incorruptible
Ultimate Ability:
Heaven's Judgment
Spell List:
Lux Aeterna (Heal)
Benedictio Divina (Blessing)
Velox Spiritus (Speed)
Custos Aetheris (Barrier)
Kaito stared at the list, utterly bewildered. Latin? He'd never studied Latin, yet he understood every word, every function, perfectly. It was as if the knowledge was hardwired directly into his brain. This wasn't just a sword; it was a complete system. With trembling fingers, he willed the 'Status' option to appear.
Name: Kaito Tanaka
Wielder Of: Durandal (Divine Blade, Sentient)
Health: 75/100
Mana: 20/50
Strength: 12
Agility: 14
Endurance: 11
Intelligence: 13
Willpower: 15
Perception: 16
Kaito could only gape. A skill menu? Stats? His current, drained state was clearly reflected in the numbers. He wasn't just a wielder; he was something out of a video game, complete with a fluctuating mana bar and visible fatigue. This was beyond anything he'd imagined. Durandal hadn't just given him power; she had transformed him into something more, something structured and quantifiable, a living embodiment of game mechanics.