“It’s finally starting. Sword’s battle. Jin, you must be feeling pretty conflicted.”

“Yeah. But both of them are staking their lives on this fight. No matter the outcome, I plan to accept it.”

(Even if one of them has to die. Right, Father?)

Jin and Zoid watched from the spectator seats—this was the section reserved for Valhalla School students.

But their eyes weren’t set for mere spectatorship. What was about to begin was a genuine fight to the death.

One was his father. The other, his friend.

There was no way they could simply “watch” in a state of mind like that.

That’s precisely why Jin intended to watch it through with utmost seriousness and accept whatever the result might be.

“Sword is strong. Far stronger than someone like me. And yet… I still can’t imagine Father losing.”

“He’s one of the Three Heroes, the man they call the Empire’s strongest, after all. A mere Holy Knight like me can’t even begin to fathom either of them.”

“Yo. Mind if I take this seat?”

Colonel Star plopped down beside Jin and the others.

“Who would’ve thought that transfer student would end up in something like this? A one-on-one duel with the Empire’s strongest knight… Hm? Where’s Leerbelt?”

“No sign of him. Colonel Star, no drink today?”

Star was the type who was usually sloshed by now.

But today, not a drop passed his lips. His expression was deadly serious.

“No way I feel like boozing while my own student’s in a deathmatch. Especially when the opponent’s Osiris. Sword Saint Osiris—know the story behind that title?”

“N-No… Just the nickname.”

“Osiris was out on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, ammo depleted. The fight was over; surrender, torture, death—that was his future. But the guy turned it around with nothing but a single sword. Took down fifty enemy machines, from what I heard.

“That’s when it started. The day they started calling him Sword Saint, and like he’d awakened or something, he reached a realm no one could touch…”

“So… can Sword win? Against your father?”

“No clue. But I’ve never seen Sword lose—not even struggle. Meaning we’ve never seen the bottom of either of them.”

“W-Well, that’s true, but…”

“Either way, today it’s decided. Who the true Empire’s strongest really is.”

And the two turned their gaze to the central stage.

A vast battlefield of cobblestones, spacious enough that even two rampaging KOGs wouldn’t be an issue.

For now, it stood empty.

…

“Sorry, Zeke-san… Could you carry me to the cockpit?”

“…Yeah.”

Zeke hoisted Kenya onto his back and carried him to Takemikazuchi’s cockpit.

Kenya was so exhausted he couldn’t even climb the ladder on his own.

“Papa’s back is so big…”

“You’ve still got the strength for jokes, huh, Mikazuki? Sorry I couldn’t do a damn thing for you.”

“Then after this is over, marry Reina. That’ll give me the power to keep going.”

“Heh. You’re still like that… When it’s done, ask her yourself. It’s your issue.”

Kenya understood the meaning behind those words and let out a faint smile.

He felt like he’d been accepted. And it was so incredibly warm here.

Reassuring enough that he could almost drift off to sleep.

Such a massive father’s back it was.

“Lowering you down. Can you pilot?”

“Yes… Piloting doesn’t take strength…”

“Mikazuki… It’s all I can say, but do your best, son.”

Those words drew a fragile smile from Kenya—one on the verge of breaking.

“Yes.”

Because they were Zeke’s words, accepting Kenya not as some fake son, but as his own flesh and blood.

“Kenya, I’m counting on you.”

Road urged him on from outside the cockpit.

“Kenya-kun, do your best!”

Tanaka echoed the sentiment.

“Go! Squeeze out that last shred of willpower! I believe in you, my son!!”

Zeke slapped Kenya’s shoulder with forceful encouragement before descending from Takemikazuchi.

The cockpit sealed shut.

Under Kenya’s control, it slowly advanced forward.

At the same moment, an announcement rang out across the venue.

Emerging right on cue was a red-and-black machine.

Osiris’s custom unit—so ominous it could only be called sinister.

Its name:

The machine appeared, brandishing a sword as long and huge as its body—like a spear. It evoked the “clothesline pole” swords of old Japanese swordsmasters.

The red-and-black frame exuded raw power, yet carried an unsettling air.

And facing it:

Kenya and Takemikazuchi advanced slowly.

“Beautiful…”

Sighs of admiration rippled through the venue as the machine emerged.

A purely white machine.

Snow-white, immaculate, utterly free of any blemish.

Dual swords in hand, no ranged weaponry whatsoever.

A sword in its right hand, another in its left—Kenya’s partner, crafted with dual-wielding swordmasters in mind.

Amid the roaring cheers, the two faced off.

They conversed over KOG comms.

“Sword, are you prepared? Your resolve as well?”

“Of course. I’m going all out to take you down.”

Kenya put on a brave front, not betraying a hint of his weakness.

Because wailing here would change nothing.

Forfeit meant Odin’s victory—and the world would be Odin’s.

So he’d bluff with everything he had.

To fool even himself, for the sake of that pathetic scrap of pride.

“Well said. Then no more words.”

Osiris Halberd had no idea of Kenya’s condition.

Odin had deemed it a disadvantage in the eyes of the chivalrous Osiris.

Osiris had spent the past week honing his edge through relentless training, despite his duties.

Thus, Odin had thoroughly isolated him from any word of what was done to Kenya.

Of course, Odin knew a man like that wouldn’t be dulled by it—but he always did his utmost.

“We are the blades of royalty. Let them speak now…”

The two knights—the two swordsmen—faced one another.

Kenya now stood on willpower alone.

Any lapse in focus, and consciousness would slip away. Still, he couldn’t afford to fall.

Losing here meant Odin seizing the Empire, sparking a world war.

Bloodshed beyond measure.

So he’d pour out every last ounce of his strength.

“Yes, with these swords. Because there are things I want to accomplish with this KOG.”

…

“Here it comes, Road. How’s your knight faring?”

Odin already knew the answer.

Yet he grinned at Road, taunting him.

Beside Odin, Leerbelt and Catherine eyed them.

“My knight will win. Don’t assume you can gauge him with common sense.”

Road shot Leerbelt a glance before returning his eyes to the venue.

“Fuhahaha! Cut the bluffing. Betrayed by your trusted subordinates, all power’s mine now! You’ve got nothing left. Right, Catherine? Leerbelt!”

“Yes, Lord Odin. Lord Osiris’s victory is a given. It’s a miracle he’s even piloting. He might already be dead in there—who knows? The blood he vomited was brutal… Ugh, so gross.”

“Hate to say it about Sword-kun, but he’s finished.”

Odin and Road sat upon twin thrones, each gazing at their knight.

“I still have something left.”

One wore an expression of utter leisure.

The other stared straight ahead, steadfast in faith of what remained.

Dong… dong…

The 12 o’clock bell tolled.

Signaling the true gong of battle.

“`