chapter01 · 011-ep10

Episode 10: On the Brink of Death, the Embarrassment Disappeared

Everything hurt, my mouth tasted of nothing but blood, and a rusted blade was bearing down on me.

Turns out, when you're nearly dead, there really is no spare capacity for embarrassment.

Just breathing made my ribs scream. Even so, the voice came out.

"—Before the kalpa's dawn I came, and past its end I remain."

Didn't flub it. If anything, flubbing it now would have been the harder feat.

The rusted greatsword fell. Rolling aside, my ribs creaked, and the blade smashed the rock my head had just left. Sparks burst; hot grains spattered across my cheek.

"—Sprouting forth in a bleak waste where even the void was not, devouring the gods, binding time in chains."

Still nothing changing. Body heavy, pain exactly as it was. Until all five lines are done, I'm nothing but a half-dead Lv 21.

The second stroke.

Blind — I flung my body out on instinct. The blade passed a hair behind my back; only wind slapped my clothes. Where I finished rolling, my ribs creaked again.

"—Trillions of kalpas have I laid to rest. All of them, every one, ash upon my back."

Three goblins leapt in from left and right.

I uppercut the first one's jaw. Bare fist — my punching hand came off worse. The goblin only tipped back a little and bared its fangs again.

The second seized my arm; the third clung to my leg. Beyond them, the greatsword climbed again.

Two lines left!

"—All dimensions, all universes, all kalpas: prostrate yourselves, and carve that name."

Behind my eyes, a scorching heat. The third greatstroke came down.

Please. Make it in time.

"—The End of Beginnings, Lord of the Land of No Return."

Carried it to the end.

My bangs lengthened, swaying at the edge of vision. Right eye dyed black, left gone white.

And then, the world slowed.

The falling third stroke stood still in the air. Even the yellow teeth of the goblin gripping my arm stood out, tooth by tooth.

The pain hadn't vanished — my body simply moved on its own.

Everything past that point, I remember only in flashes.

The first thing I remember is the feel of kicking off the floor.

The rock boomed, and that single step shook the entire nest. The goblins clinging to my arms and legs were torn loose by that alone and sent tumbling.

The spear, lying meters away: one step.

The instant my hand closed on the shaft, blue light swelled inside it. The glow that had been barely pulsing was now an azure too bright to face.

"—Sweep them aside."

Wheeling around, I ran the spear through the three that had chased me. They reached the wall and turned to sand before they could hit it.

For one instant, the nest went silent. Hundreds of goblins, every last one facing me.

I didn't stop the voice. Stop, and it vanishes — some corner of my head still knew.

"—Stand not before me. To stand before me is to end."

I barely grasp what I'm saying, and my mouth moves on its own. Three years stockpiled in notebooks — lines are the one resource I hold in infinite supply.

(I can see it.)

My vision, unnaturally sharp. Every goblin's motion legible — which one leaps next, which one means to run: one glance and I know.

One from behind. Without turning, I jabbed the butt-spike backward. Connect.

"—You think you've taken my back? I have no back."

Two from the right. Step in, run one through the point, sweep straight through sideways. The impaled one carried the other off into nothing.

"—The End is one. It does not split in two."

(Thrust, pull, sweep. Thrust, pull, sweep.)

That's all that loops in my head, and what comes out of my mouth is entirely different words.

"—Wail, then. Your screams are no more than the accompaniment to my war hymn."

Something was screaming. Goblins, presumably. And the screams spread through the whole swarm.

Some tried to flee; I saw backs sprinting for the walls.

"—You will not escape."

I threw the spear.

"—Pierce, God-Devouring Spear of the Azure Flash."

The head ran a back through, scattered sparks on the far rock wall — and the next instant, it was back in my hand.

It actually returned! Because of that one line this-era me wrote — "it returns because wishes are woven into it."

"—A spear that has left my hand has no reason not to return to it."

Saying it gave me chills at myself, but there was no stopping.

Thrust, sweep, throw — and it's back in hand. What IS this. Too convenient.

Once, a block of ten-plus broke as one for the passage entrance. I ran them down and threw; the last in line was skewered. With the returned head I swept the next rank, and half of them dispersed. The rest turned and scattered, shrieking.

I ran after the scattered ones.

"—Where do you run?"

Pinned them against the wall and mowed them down as a group.

From there, their line came apart. The ones pushing forward collided with the ones fleeing and tripped over each other. Full panic, no mistaking it.

I walked through the middle of it, sweeping everything within reach. Almost no resistance. A club might graze me, but there was no force left in them that qualified as pain.

In my wake, only the drops kept multiplying. Fangs, fur scraps, scattering underfoot with every step.

The rusted greatsword came in from the side.

The higher species. The thing that had loomed filling my whole view, that had batted me and the spear to the wall in a single hit. That stroke now looked slow — even the sound of it cutting air came dragged out and low.

(Slow.)

"—Slow."

My mouth put out the same word.

I didn't block. I ducked under — a movement the dojo never taught me, my body doing it on its own.

The greatsword passed over my head, and two goblins caught in its arc turned to sand together.

It cuts through its own allies? This thing.

"—You are strong. On this floor, beyond all doubt, you are the mightiest."

The higher species bellowed. The air of the whole nest shuddered, and my inner ears rang sharp.

The return edge came down from above this time — two-handed overhead, the same shape that had launched me and the spear together.

Same shape as before. I've already seen it.

Half a step aside. The greatsword smashed the floor at my flank, a sound rolling up out of the rock and into my gut.

Inside its guard, re-gripping the spear with both hands.

"—But your mightiest is a thing of these rocks alone."

From below, upward — I thrust. The feel of driving into something hard.

And for the first time, the giant's bellow turned into a scream.

"—The End I know is longer than everything you know."

Blue lightning burst, and my vision went pure white.

Even when the white cleared, it was still standing. Hole through its chest, one arm reaching for me. The thick fingers swept the air right in front of my face, just short. The other arm was hauling the greatsword back up. It still meant to swing.

"—Sink."

Before the greatsword finished rising, I thrust again.

"—Sink. Sink. Your name shall remain in no one's memory."

And then I thrust, again and again. The words didn't stop either. I don't remember what I was saying — only that my mouth never stopped moving.

It took me a while to notice it had stopped moving. When I came back to myself, I was on my knees, and the rock nest was dead silent.

I raised my head, and not one goblin was moving. There had been so many — all of them?

The floor was strewn with small fangs and scraps of fur, wall to wall. All drops, more than could be counted.

Under the raised ledge at the far end, something lay. A black crystal the size of a fist, red light pulsing inside it.

My left eye read it, unbidden.

Goblin Emperor's magic core

...I killed that. Me, right? The moment it landed, the strength drained out of my whole body.

Pain flooded back all at once — ribs, arms, back, cheek, all of it hurting. Just breathing made my chest creak. The spear slipped from my hand, and its blue light went out.

Well — if I won, fine.

And there, the consciousness cut out.

When I next opened my eyes, the first thought was "cold."

The rock floor was ice. My body had stiffened all over; it took two attempts to sit up. Around me, the same darkness, the drops still scattered where they'd fallen.

How long was I out?

I pulled my phone from my pocket. No signal this deep past the hidden passage, but the clock still worked.

6:42 AM.

"Huh?"

I'd entered at ten yesterday morning. Meaning twenty hours had passed.

Apart from the pain, my fingertips went quietly cold. This is genuinely serious.

Stay out too long, and it auto-reports you. Mishima-san had said exactly that at the Guild — I remembered it now, with total clarity.

I scooped up the magic core and the drops and dragged my wrecked body back up the passage. Through the hidden passage to Floor 1, then straight to the exit gate.

Outside, it was already bright, and people were gathered beyond the fence.

Several in Guild uniforms, and adults I'd never seen. Some were unmistakably armored to the teeth, and there was even a rescue stretcher laid out.

No way around it: a search party. ...And no way around this either — they're here for me.

The moment I passed the gate, an authentication tone chimed, and every face turned.

"There he is! He's out!"

"Ichinose Saku-san?! Are you injured?!"

Voices flew over as people rushed up. I stepped back before I knew it.

One figure broke from the crowd ahead of everyone. Black combat suit, armor that looked expensive at a glance — a fully equipped explorer. Even an amateur like me could tell: a different class from your neighborhood rookie.

I saw the face and locked up.

My sister. The sister who at home is permanently a loungewear hoodie and no makeup was standing there in the gear of a top-rank explorer.

"Saku."

Oh, she is absolutely furious.

"Twenty hours. Where were you?"

The Goblin Emperor just now had nothing on my sister at this moment. I tried to think up an excuse, and produced exactly none.