Chương 2: Inari

Inari stared Noah down, his katana drawn. Even though Noah was clearly the weaker opponent, Inari did not lower his guard. He treated the fight as seriously as if he were standing before a master swordsman.

"Please," Inari said calmly.

"Tell me your last words." Noah's grip tightened around his sword.

"I'll deliver them to your mother before we kill her." He said it as if it were a mercy. Noah said nothing. His breathing was uneven, and his body already felt weak, but he forced his legs to move. Then he rushed forward. Noah leaped into the air and brought his sword down in a heavy arc. Inari watched him closely.

"Slow," he said.

"Your form is sloppy, and you don't have the stamina for such a large move." Noah's blade came down.

"Ninth Form," Inari said. The sword passed through him.

"Sakura Mirage." Inari's body scattered into a cloud of cherry blossom petals. Noah's eyes widened as the petals drifted around him, soft and weightless, before the real Inari appeared behind his back.

"I hate using tricks against a fellow swordsman," Inari said.

"Turn around so I can stab you properly." His blade was already aimed at Noah's spine. Noah twisted around with all the strength he had. His sword crashed against Inari's katana, knocking the blade aside. Then, before Inari could fully recover, Noah drove his left fist into the swordsman's stomach. Inari gasped. For the first time, his stance faltered. Noah staggered back, panting. Inari lowered his gaze to where the punch had landed. Then he laughed softly.

"A man with nothing left to lose is boring," he said.

"Predictable. No better than a rabid dog." He raised his katana again.

"But a man with everything to lose…" His voice sharpened.

"That is the kind of man I fear." Noah's chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. Inari pointed the blade toward him.

"Such men fight with all the strength they have," he continued, "and then with strength they do not possess. Desperation gives birth to miracles." The cherry blossoms around him began to stir.

"So I must snuff you out before one occurs." Inari vanished forward.

"Third Form." His blade flashed.

"Scattered Sakura." A storm of sword strikes rained down on Noah. Noah lifted his sword and tried to defend himself. Metal rang against metal as he parried what he could, but Inari's attacks were too fast. A cut opened across Noah's shoulder. Then another across his arm. Then his side. The wounds were small at first, but they began to build, one after another, until his clothes were stained red. Noah's legs trembled. His body felt heavy, and his vision blurred.

Then he doubled over and coughed up blood onto the grass.

"Damn it," he muttered. His sword shook in his hands.

"Why?" Blood dripped from his mouth as he forced himself to look up at Inari.

"Why do I have to be so weak?" His fingers tightened around the hilt.

"Why was I born with this pathetic body?" Inari looked down at him in silence for a moment. Then he gave a small nod.

"Your body is pathetic," he said.

"That much is true." Noah's jaw tightened.

"But your spirit is that of a true warrior." Inari raised his katana slightly, the blade catching the light between the trees.

"Had you been born with a proper body, perhaps we could have been rivals. Maybe even friends." Noah's hands trembled around the hilt of his sword. His family was behind him. The Doctor was already heading toward Gram. Toward his home. Toward Isaac. Toward Isabelle. Noah lowered his head, his breathing ragged.

"Please," he whispered. Blood welled in his eyes.

"I need a miracle." The tears spilled down his face, dark and red. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Just one." His grip tightened.

"Just one miracle, so I can save my family." Then the sword began to change. Black spots appeared across the blade, spreading over the metal like a disease. They resembled the markings across Noah's own skin, pulsing faintly with a dark light. Inari tilted his head.

"How fascinating." The air around Noah grew heavy.

"To awaken an ability in the moment of desperation," Inari said, almost amused.

"I truly hate miracles." He raised his blade again.

"I am always too unlucky to be the one receiving them." Noah roared. He brought his sword down with everything he had. A massive wave of dark energy exploded from the blade, tearing across the clearing. The ground split apart beneath it. Trees were ripped from their roots and shattered as the blast carved through the forest. Inari moved at the last possible second. The attack tore past him, close enough to cut through his coat and send him skidding back across the grass. For a moment, even he was silent.

If he had been a second slower, he would have died. Noah stood there, panting. His body felt different. Lighter. Sharper. The weight in his limbs had lessened, and the burning in his chest faded just enough for him to breathe. Inari stared at him. Then he smiled beneath his mask.

"Dance," he whispered. He slowly sheathed his katana.

"Let us keep dancing." Noah raised his sword above his head, preparing another heavy slash. Inari lowered his body into a stance.

"Eleventh Form." The forest seemed to hold its breath.

"Pale Blue Bloom." Inari moved. Noah barely saw him. One moment, he was in front of him. The next, a trail of pale blue cherry blossoms filled the space between them. Inari stood behind Noah. For a second, nothing happened. Then Noah's arm fell to the ground. His sword dropped with it. Noah stared forward, unable to understand what had happened. Then the pain arrived. His scream tore through the clearing as he collapsed to his knees. Inari turned slightly, his katana already clean.

"Miracles will not make up for hard work," he said. Noah clutched the place where his arm had been, shaking from the pain.

"In this world," Inari continued, "I alone stand closest to the rank of Sword Master."

"Sword Master?" Noah glared at him, his remaining hand trembling. The pinnacle of martial arts. Those deemed the greatest by the God of Combat were chosen as his apostles. They were known as the Martial Arts Kings, each one ruling over a single type of weapon. The Sword Master position had remained vacant ever since the previous one had been killed by another Martial Arts King. If Inari was truly the man closest to that title, then Noah understood. This battle had been unwinnable from the start.

Still, he forced himself to stand. His body screamed in pain. Blood poured from the place where his arm had been severed, staining the grass beneath him. His vision blurred, and every breath felt like it was scraping against his ribs. Even so, Noah bent down and picked up his sword with his remaining hand.

"I'm going to die here," he said quietly.

"I know that much." Inari watched him.

"Then why continue fighting?" Noah did not answer right away. Inari tilted his fox mask slightly.

"Why do you fight? Is it duty? Because you are the heir to a knight family?" Noah's grip tightened around the hilt.

"Is it pride?" Inari continued.

"Because everyone sees you as a worthless and pathetic heir?" The wind moved softly through the ruined clearing.

"Or is it because you wish to protect your family?" Noah lowered his sword for a moment. Then he smiled weakly.

"Honestly," he said, "it's everything." He raised the blade again.

"But above all else, I fight to defend my family." Inari was silent. Then he gave a small bow.

"I respect your conviction." He lifted his katana.

"I will remember you, Noah Fafnir." Noah inhaled slowly. His father's training came back to him. The stance. The footwork. The first step forward.

"My father is an impressive swordsman," Noah said.

"Even if this is only a cheap imitation…" His green draconic eyes sharpened.

"I'll do my best." Then Noah moved.

"Royal Arts." He dragged every last bit of strength from his broken body.

"First Form." His feet struck the ground.

"Royal March." For one moment, Noah was fast. Impossibly fast. He closed the distance between himself and Inari in a single burst, his sword cutting through the air with everything he had left. Inari twisted away. Almost. The blade caught his arm. Blood spilled from the wound and ran down Inari's sleeve. Noah stood there, swaying on his feet. Then he smiled.

"I finally got you," he whispered. Inari looked at the blood on his arm. Then he laughed softly.

"Yes," he said.

"You did." He raised his katana one final time.

"Good work. You are a fine warrior." Noah could no longer lift his sword. His body had reached its limit. Inari's voice became gentle.

"Now die like one." The slash was swift. Clean. Noah's head separated from his body and fell to the grass. The last thought that passed through his mind was not fear. It was not regret. It was the beauty of Inari's swordsmanship. For a moment, the clearing was silent. Noah's body lay among the fallen petals, his head and severed arm separated from him. Blood soaked into the roots of the cursed forest. Inari stood over him without speaking. Then he sheathed his katana.

He knelt beside Noah and carefully lifted the body. From inside his coat, he removed a small needle and thread. Slowly, almost respectfully, he sewed Noah's arm back into place. Then he did the same with his head. It was not enough to save him. It was never meant to be. But when Inari finished, Noah looked whole again. Inari took Noah's sword and placed it beside him. Then he bowed his head.

"Thank you for the duel." Cherry blossom petals drifted through the air as Inari turned away. Ahead of him, Gram waited. And so did the rest of Noah's family.