The starting gong rang out, along with the declaration echoing through the arena.

Yet no cheers rose up.

Everyone held their breath, silently watching the two KOGs ahead.

Sword and Osiris, battling to decide who would stand at the pinnacle.

Osiris was the first to raise his sword.

“Well then…”

And so the fight began.

The clash that would decide the fate of the world.

“Here I come! Sword!”

Osiris unleashed his thrust, his most proficient technique.

That razor-sharp stab could slaughter ordinary foes—no, even Holy Knight Captain-class pilots—in a single blow.

Even the spectators watching from afar couldn’t imagine blocking that bullet-like charge.

Many closed their eyes, convinced of Sword’s defeat.

The sheer sharpness terrified the audience into screams, the thrust so vivid it felt like death brushing against their own lives just to witness it.

But.

“As expected, I can at least block something like this.”

Sword deflected it with the sword in both hands.

Sword had stopped it—his stamina was at its limit, his body already covered in wounds.

Yet his body moved on its own, every cell acting with a will of its own to protect him.

It was beyond mere reflexes now.

Like jerking your hand away from something hot faster than thought can catch up.

All those hundreds, thousands of battles, practices, and trainings he’d repeated.

They had transcended the limits of human cognition, moving his body instinctively.

(Hurry… or else… Gah! …My consciousness is fading.)

Even so, Sword vomited a massive amount of blood inside the cockpit.

The strain from the controls was beyond imagination; Sword couldn’t hold out much longer in his current state.

The vibration from that sharp thrust had undoubtedly shaved away at his life.

Therefore.

“I’ll end it! With everything I’ve got!”

He focused.

By his own will, and because he was in this extreme state, it easily welcomed him in.

The ultimate concentration—a state akin to mushin, the void mind—effortlessly drew Sword inside.

The door swung open, and even pain was forgotten.

(Focus! Move faster than you can think!!)

In the stands, the Holy Knights and Holy Knight Captains rubbed their eyes.

To elite knights like them, it was visible.

That overwhelming pressure, that oppressive presence emanating from the white KOG.

Jin and Zoid shuddered at the sight.

“What pressure… It’s nothing like when I fought him… It hurts. It’s scary…”

“I don’t quite get it, but… just watching feels like I’m being hammered with visions of defeat…”

One of the Three Heroes, Org Obelisk, spoke not in his usual booming voice, but quietly.

“So that’s his reach… To think it’s at that level. Lord Road’s knight lives up to the hype, huh…”

“To think at his age… Sword-kun is already above me… isn’t he.”

Lamia Silverna understood upon seeing it.

That was sword reach, something she couldn’t manifest so clearly herself.

The sheer pressure made it feel like you’d be cut just by entering that space.

“To think he can manifest Sword’s Domain at that level.”

But Lamia had seen it before.

She had witnessed that domain called Sword’s Domain.

Long ago, on the battlefield, without a doubt.

Back then, that person had sliced through fifty KOGs single-handedly.

In a desperate situation, he cut down every enemy and saved them all.

As if drawing a circle centered on himself—anything that entered that reach was instantly felled.

“I wonder which one is stronger.”

And what Lamia beheld was.

“Osiris-san’s domain and…”

That red-and-black, ominously menacing KOG.

“I see… Heh, first time seeing it, huh. So this is what everyone else has been seeing. What about you? First time too?”

Osiris raised his sword.

Calmly, slowly, pointed straight at Sword.

He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing.

In that instant, Sword saw it.

“…This is… reach?”

Sword sensed Osiris’s reach.

His instincts screamed that it was a danger zone.

Connecting the boundaries felt like a sphere.

Centered on Osiris, a sinister, wavering spherical reach.

Osiris, at the pinnacle, stepped into the same domain as Sword.

Forcibly, through sheer power alone.

The elites saw it.

The reach surrounding both of them.

Visible only to first-class knights, the otherworldly pressure from these transcendent beings.

Those reaches slowly, slowly drew closer.

Each seeing the other’s domain for the first time, closing to ten meters, five meters.

And then.

Keeeen!

They overlapped.

Immediately after, metallic clashes resounded through the arena.

The two swordsmen’s blades met, their speed beyond what ordinary eyes could follow.

“Haa!”

Osiris slashed.

“Guh!”

Sword slashed back.

Godspeed swordplay that left no room to breathe.

Far surpassing human reaction limits.

What allowed them to clash was the world’s pinnacle technique, experience, intuition, and luck.

“Hahaha! You’re the first to block this much!”

“Haa… haa… haa… Strong… so strong.”

Perfected movements, eerily similar—yet the slightest misalignment would tip the scales.

(I can’t lose… I have to save the world.)

Wearing down his spirit, pushing to the peak of focus.

Concentration so intense the opponent seemed frozen—yet he couldn’t break through.

He knew where the next strike came from, yet every counter was parried.

The same for his foe.

How many clashes had they exchanged?

The audience gripped their hands, sweat pouring.

Not even a blink allowed—if they missed a moment, the fight could end.

Such razor-edge exchanges repeated endlessly.

And watching it, Odin bellowed.

“What’s happening! Catherine!”

“H-How… With that body? How can he move like that… I-Impossible…”

“You said he’d definitely win! That’s why I approved the plan, approved this fight! If—if by some chance… You know what happens.”

Those words drained the color from Catherine’s face.

Catherine’s adjustments had been perfect. So why this?

How could he move like that in a body on the brink of death, needing treatment now or he’d die?

She’d cornered him that thoroughly, yet…

“Why… how can he move like that…”

Catherine had misjudged.

The untapped potential of the gamer called a shut-in.

The power of an awakened knight whose thoughts had evolved into pure reflex.

…

“Still… still going. Even if it ends here, don’t slack for a second. Even if it all ends here… save the world.”

Sword focused, an omnipotent sensation enveloping him.

“Fuahaha! More, more! I can dive even deeper!”

Osiris felt the same, delivering his peak performance.

No—compared to any past version of himself, this surpassed all, and yet.

“You block this too! With you, I feel like I can go even further! Sword!!”

Two knights who had mastered the sword.

If it were flesh and blood, Sword wouldn’t last a second before being cut down.

But in KOGs.

“I won’t lose! I have to win! If not here, the world—!”

Sword voiced his vow to save the world.

That resolve like an unyielding core, held with fanatic belief.

He’d devoted his youth, most of his life, and even after coming to this world.

All to this technique.

The two swordsmen at their zenith clashed.

In time, just minutes.

Yet hundreds of strikes rang out, hard metallic echoes filling the arena.

“What a battle… Can’t even breathe.”

“Can humans react that fast? Moving against something like that… Is that even human…?”

“Father and Sword… They’re on a level I can’t comprehend. Father must be thrilled to meet such a worthy rival.”

In the stands, spectators clenched fists, forgetting to breathe.

Even commoners knew: this was the world’s apex.

Unlike the annual Empire Sword Martial Festival.

True life-or-death stakes, clashing deepest desires.

Loser loses all; winner takes all.

No room to lose.

“I… I…!”

So Sword fought, to defeat this foe and fulfill his dream.

The shut-in from that world would become this world’s strongest knight.

“I’ll save the world…!?”

It should have been.

“Goh! Goh!”

Blood poured from his mouth.

A bodily reaction beyond his will.

Over-concentrated, Sword had forgotten to breathe, blood pooling in his stomach.

Oxygen depleted, blood refluxed—enough to make his body scream.

Osiris wouldn’t miss the opening.

A second in real time, an eternity in their extreme exchange.

“Guh!”

Too long.

Sword barely parried Osiris’s flash, his stance crumbling.

His body moved on instinct; extreme focus allowed the guard.

But the impact sent him flying, crashing into the wall near the stands.

And with that.

“What’s this? Your reach vanished? …Why, so suddenly.”

“Goh!!”

As Osiris moved to pursue, he noticed Sword’s pressure had utterly vanished.

The impact was there, but he’d guarded—no issue.

Plus, he’d shown a massive opening, something clearly wrong.

In truth, Sword had passed out then.

The shock had severed the fragile thread holding his consciousness.

(That was puking blood? A trap? No way. Not his style… Then what, machine trouble? No… no way.)

Osiris hesitated a moment, glancing at Odin.

No response from Sword. Possibilities raced through Osiris’s mind.

Sword’s voice had sounded hoarse even through the KOG.

(I see… so that’s it.)

Osiris pieced it all together.

The reason for that week of isolation training, clearly intentional.

Realizing the truth, Osiris felt crushing disappointment.

A sword saint who awoke to the blade, loved it, lived for it, died by it.

That was his vow.

Eventually awakening on the battlefield, until no enemies remained in the world.

The sword saint ascended to the peak.

Desperate to see that view first.

But upon reaching the longed-for summit.

It was unbearably, utterly lonely.

No one around; comrades who’d climbed together gone.

Even rides in his beloved training KOG dwindled.

Yet he waited.

For someone to reignite his fading embers of fighting spirit.

And today, he finally met the perfect foe.

A rival so high, even wagering lives might not reach.

It had been pure joy, pure thrill.

Yet.

It was snatched away from the side.

Enough to disappoint, to despair.

Still, Osiris raised his sword.

(Sorry. Even so, I won’t hold back—can’t. Regrettable, but… forgive me. This is war.)

And Osiris assumed his stance.

His signature finishing move, same as the start.

But its sharpness dwarfed the initial probe; the stance alone evoked death.

“Farewell, Sword. I wished we could have fought longer. With you, surely the views ahead too.”

Osiris’s signature spear-like thrust.

“…You were without doubt”

That red-and-black bullet hurtled straight at Sword.

“The strongest knight I’ve ever faced.”

To kill Sword.