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Noel drew the Holy Sword, and as Damian unsheathed his family’s treasured sword, the battle that unfolded was so intense that the previous skirmishes seemed like mere child’s play. While the earlier duel had indeed been impressive, it became clear to the spectators that it had merely been a warm-up for the real fight that was now taking place.

In truth, despite the intensity of the battle, there was little for ordinary folks to observe in the combat between the two. Just moments ago, the earlier duel had been overwhelming enough for common eyes to process.

Only a few capable of truly seeing the movements of the two could appreciate their swordsmanship.

The swords wielded by Noel and Damian had histories that predated the Empire itself, each imbued with mythical power. Unlike the broken swords from before, these weapons were more than capable of channeling their strength fully. This meant there was no longer a need to regulate their power as they had with the previous swords.

No matter how much a craftsman doesn’t blame their tools, this was a separate issue. Just as a corroded sword wouldn’t allow a knight to unleash their full potential, the swords they previously wielded resembled nothing more than rusted blades.

Their combined power was far too great for mere ordinary weapons to contain. If they had been swinging regular swords, it would have been a miracle that the blades hadn’t shattered yet. The fact that both swords had broken indicated that both Noel and Damian had pushed their weapons to the limits of power it could exert.

To determine the outcome, they had no choice but to clash their full strength, which is precisely why they had drawn the current weapons. The Holy Sword was a divine artifact crafted by God, and the treasured sword in Damian’s hand was made from the bones of the only dragon killed by humans before the Empire’s history even began, making it a worthy counterpart to the Holy Sword.

Now freed from the precarious balance they had maintained, Noel and Damian unveiled their full powers. The flashes that had once shaken the venue erupted with alarming frequency, and all that onlookers could see were the two figures moving rapidly within those white beams of light.

Though the venue was spacious enough to hold thousands, today it felt incredibly confined. The sheer presence of the two at the center clashing swords pressed down on the multitude surrounding them.

The fight before their eyes had transformed from a child’s play into a battlefield for heroes clad in youthful forms, right at the eye of the storm they conjured. As the mighty waves created by the two reverberated throughout the spectators, the saying, “When whales fight, it’s the shrimp that gets crushed,” rang true.

Many struggled to maintain their composure as the battle’s intensity swirled around them, but Noel and Damian remained blissfully unconcerned, jumping joyfully into the fray. The feelings of the onlookers were irrelevant to them; what mattered was their mutual effort to avoid disappointing each other.

Before the duel had commenced, there had been a slight underlying conflict between them, but now it had faded, and their sole focus lay on the duel itself.

With faces brimming with enthusiasm like children lost in fun, both Noel and Damian reveled in the duel more than any game. Damian found joy in facing a worthy opponent, while Noel was elated by the acknowledgment from him.

The outcome remained uncertain, but one thing was apparent: everyone engaged, fighters and spectators alike, were utterly satisfied.

Except for one, of course: Altair, the cause of their conflict. Just moments ago, she had been darting around, but now she sat quietly, pouting as she observed their duel from Noel’s heart.

“How long does it take to have a chat… so petty!”

Rather than dissatisfaction, it would be more accurate to say she harbored slight discontent. Altair wanted to converse with Damian, but Noel had interjected, insisting that the duel continue.

It was a scenario where battle took precedence over discussion, yet, fueled by a desire to speak to Damian, she found her urgency growing. Still, her grumbling wouldn’t last much longer.

“Well… I wanted to see that face anyway.”

The current image of Damian, wary of her, made Altair feel something akin to satisfaction that he was indeed enjoying the duel alongside Noel. However, the larger reason lay in the emotions conveyed from Noel during this fight.

Her complicated thoughts had mostly sorted out by now. While her conscious thoughts had been pushed aside, Altair had spent quite a bit of time contemplating, and now, accepting Noel’s feelings, she felt that answers were coming into reach.

Just as she had given her past memories and feelings to Noel, Altair too could accept the present feelings of Noel. Thus, she understood how long she had been waiting for this moment and the emotions accompanying her presence here, reading into the true intent of this duel as conceived by Noel.

She was preparing for a farewell. A farewell to the affection she had felt towards Damian. Knowing that the duel she was having with him was a step towards letting go of that love, she could no longer cling stubbornly to her feelings.

Altair was initially shocked when she first read Noel’s intentions, but like Noel had come to understand her, she too quickly grasped Noel’s feelings.

So, when this duel concluded, she would know what to say. This had been something she had been mentally prepared to express for a while now, yet after understanding Noel’s resolve, it had solidified in a different context.

After all, the two had been one and the same, so if Noel knew the answer to the feelings Altair had so desperately sought to avoid, it was only natural that she too would find it out. She had merely been evading it. Yet now that Noel was revealing the answer, there was no longer a way to escape.

Once the duel finished, regardless of victory or defeat, Altair resolved to confess her feelings to Damian.

In truth, she already knew what her answer would be. She was well aware that this answer would not change. Even if he regained his memories of the past, she knew that the embrace shared on that day was, in fact, Damian conceding to her wishes.

Despite understanding it would be futile, she was confessing for the same reason as Noel.

Altair realized the significance of the words Elena had once said to her. It was the method for her to release the lingering attachments she had held. What Altair required now was the courage to hear that answer.

‘…Is this really okay?’

Altair asked herself again, directing the question toward Noel. The answer had already been revealed, but it was also her final shred of hesitation that lingered. There was no response to her silent question, and Altair recognized that silence as her answer.

She had almost started to say something more, but then she stopped. She realized that it would hold no meaning. With her head down, she whispered her answer to Noel.

“Alright… Since you were the one to bring this feeling to us, it falls to you to conclude it. But the feelings I currently possess are those of Altair, not Noel. While it may have begun with you, what I have carried until now is Altair’s. Therefore, I must bring it to a conclusion.”

Altair answered Noel like that and let her consciousness rise to the surface. Unlike before, there was no interference from Noel this time. Since Noel had taken up the Holy Sword, the boundaries between her and Altair had been steadily softening, allowing their consciousness to coexist without one overpowering the other.

As Altair grasped the Holy Sword, it began to glow with even greater brilliance than before. Unlike Noel, she had no intent to share techniques; instead, she concentrated her power into a single strike, determined to end it all.

The power contained within the Holy Sword, in response to her desire, proved to be transcendent. Were the Sword Saint standing there, they would surely seek to deflect that blow rather than contest it directly. Even the overseers watching from the audience could sense something unusual and prepared to spring into action, but Damian remained still, seemingly waiting for Noel’s attack.

Even Damian, who could usually differentiate between Noel and Altair, found it impossible to do so in this moment. He sensed something was amiss, but instinctively felt that evading this was not an option, so he lowered his stance, ready to confront the oncoming attack directly.

Surprised by Damian’s unwillingness to avoid the confrontation, Altair felt joy instead and swung down her sword. Her strike, heavy with lingering feelings, cut through the air towards Damian along with a colossal Sword Qi.

Moments later, the world was enveloped in a Golden Tide created by the Divine Power that filled the venue. As the entire realm was submerged by the scattered strength of the Holy Sword, the last thing Altair saw before losing consciousness was the breaking waves of gold and a singular starlight piercing through them.

*

After awakening from her unconsciousness, the first thing Noel saw was Damian’s face looking down at her. Meeting his blank stare, she donned a faint smile, reaching out to speak.

“Are you not giving me any chocolate this time?”

“Well, I have some, but do you need it? Should I hand you some?”

“Yes. Please put it in my mouth.”

At that, indeed, a round package of chocolate appeared from Damian’s pocket. It was the same bitter dark chocolate as before. If it had been ordinary chocolate, she would have bitten into it right away, but thanks to her previous experience, she took her time rolling it around in her mouth, allowing it to melt instead.

As she chewed the chocolate, a smile crept onto Damian’s face as he remarked, “You said it was super bitter before, yet here you are, enjoying it.”

“It’s bitter, yet there’s a sweet element as well. It’s kind of addictive, you know? Is this the kind of flavor people enjoy?”

Noel still lay on the ground. Her mind had cleared, and she was not without strength in her body, but she showed no signs of getting up. While rolling the chocolate around in her mouth, she pushed it to one side, glanced at Damian’s face, and said,

“I like you.”

It sounded casual, a passing remark, yet the weight of her words was anything but light.

It was unexpected, perhaps, yet Damian, showing no sign of surprise, gazed down at Noel without a change in expression. Noel, too, did not shy away from his gaze. Perhaps she read in his face that it was sincere. He answered her softly.

“I’m sorry.”

In response, Noel neither laughed nor cried.

She continued to roll the remaining chocolate in her mouth, swallowing the bittersweet essence that lingered and spread throughout her mouth.

 

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