Regressor, Possessor, Reincarnator

A ferocious pressure weighed down upon the whole area.

Of the two, Gaillon's physique was objectively much larger and more intimidating than Allen's. The disparity in size was so great that lines of sight were nowhere near the same level. It was a little funny to think that, in comparison to his opponent, Gaillon’s eyes were practically floating in the sky.

He had even more of a presence than the ancient monster Allen had dealt with just a short while ago.

Was Gaillon a monster in the shape of a person or a person in the shape of a monster?

Allen's pupils dilated. His foe filled his field of vision, and a twinge of tension ran across his skin. He was hesitant to make even the slightest movement.

⟬Get a grip!⟭

At Vestla's cry, Allen forced his eyes shut as he took a step back.

The Beast King was still standing right there. Since the beginning of their battle, he had done nothing but look at Allen, without moving a single step.

A thin smile curled around Gaillon's mouth.

"Oh, you snapped out of it, huh?”

His smile deepened. This opponent was even better than he’d expected. He’d called Allen to witness the light he used firsthand, but its quality was even better than anticipated.

"It's the first time I’ve closed my eyes, so it couldn’t be helped."

The Beast King clenched and unclenched his hand. He seemed to be recalling the sensation that graced his fist when he’d hit him earlier.

“You’ve got a good bit of courage. Your body is strong, too."

Allen did not reply. It was the right call to make. Standing straight under all that pressure was nearly too much for him to bear.

Yet still, Gaillon, heedless of Allen's internal struggle, moved slowly. Allen's senses stood on edge, capturing each and every one of his movements.

“Hm… Yeah. I was originally going to give you a little tap then just mess around a little… but that’s no good, is it?”

He stopped walking.

"Five minutes."

Would they run out of time? After thinking it over for a moment, Gaillon nodded.

"If you can endure for five minutes, I will take you on as my disciple.”

"……Are you serious?”

“Wasn’t that your intention from the beginning?"

Allen, now minutely adjusted to the pressure, looked surprised. He’d already seen something in him? Did that change anything about the aftermath of approaching Eliana earlier?

'No, that just means treating her has become even more essential.’

They could become even more closely knit.

"But there is one condition."

“Yes, sir, I’m listening."

Of course he was listening. Gaillon laughed as if in a good mood and continued, "Three years from now, you must do one thing for me. So, do you agree?"

Gaillon wore a serious expression as he said this. All traces of his smile had disappeared from his lips and eyes. Allen was rather suspicious of the question.

"…Is that all?"

"Yes, that’s all. Just one thing once. Nothing more, nothing less. What do you think?"

Honestly… was that really even something to worry about?

It was too generous of an offer. He would become a disciple of one of the strongest members of the Top Eight—the benefits of which were more than clear. He would be able to increase his power and raise his reputation, all while maintaining the gap between himself and Julius despite the latter’s continuous growth.

⟬No way!⟭

And what would he be losing in return? He would just have to do one thing in three years. 

Worrying about it when the time came would give him enough time. Who even knew if he’d still be fighting with Julius by then?

⟬You’re already my disciple. Turn it down right now! Are you even considering it?⟭

If the task was too difficult or too dangerous, Gaillon wouldn't have even considered him.

⟬Of course, that man is similar to me in terms of qualifications, no— Even though he is weaker than me, he could still teach you a lot, but… I can do that for you, too.⟭

Allen made his decision.

"I'll do it.”

⟬Allen!⟭ Vestla cried. Her tone was serious, unlike anything close to her usually lightheartedness. ⟬How could you?! You didn't even discuss it with me! I have my pride, too! Who am I going to—⟭

‘I'm sorry, but… you don't have a body.' 

Her voice cut off.

A moment of silence came upon them. Allen’s message was clear.

There was a limit to what she could teach him.

Allen and Vestla were of different species—a giant and a human. She taught Allen the appropriate technique for someone with a giant’s body, but inevitably, there would be things that he fundamentally would not be able to understand.

The more she taught him swordsmanship, the more his own limitations were revealed with every passing day.

They were just two beings—one, a normal being for their kind, and the other, a genius for their kind. 

At some point, Allen would no longer be capable of keeping up her teachings.

To get past this obstacle, he needed a teacher to learn from who could stand beside him to help work through any confusion he might have during training.

However, Vestla could not be seen flying midair, and Allen had a long way to go, so he couldn't devote all his time and attention to just one sword.

⟬…But still! Still!⟭

Just as Allen was about to answer her, Gaillon interrupted.

"Is your conversation over yet?"

"…What do you mean by that?"

"That’s ‘what I mean’." He pointed his finger at Allen's sword. "Your sword. It’s an Ego Sword, isn’t it?" Before Allen could deny anything, Gaillon shook his head in a knowing way. "If you come with me, you'll be able to open up your potential to some extent. Isn't your Ego Sword trying to stop you from becoming my disciple?"

"……Yes."

"Well, that’s only natural, I suppose. Though, I'm afraid your old-fashioned skills will have you falling behind."

⟬What did you say? You old geezer! How dare you speak like that to the—!⟭

"If you knew he could overcome his skill limit, then why would you reject me being his teacher? If you were confident in him and in yourself, you would allow it."

⟬That's—⟭

"If you were a real teacher, you wouldn't even care. But instead… I'm afraid I’m losing my potential student to some stack of old bones.”

Of course, that old stack of bones was proud of herself, so she laughed out loud.

⟬Ha! Yes, well, Allen, do as you please! Learn that old man's teachings and skills right now! It’s not so hard, is it? What? You scared? Come on, show us what you’ve got!⟭

Vestla raved loudly, the whole length of her blade rattling.

Gaillon, who had grasped the situation by that alone, smiled mischievously and asked, "So how about it? Did they allow it?”

"…Yes, she has allowed it."

"Of course she has. I’ve done this quite a few times already.”

"Are you very familiar with Ego Swords?"

Gaillon nodded without hesitation. "What kind of kids do you think come here? Sure, Ego Swords are rare on the outside, but not here. Of course… that’s not exactly the reason why I know so much about them."

The Beast King blurted out the last comment as if his mind were elsewhere.

Allen hesitated for a moment, but did not ask for clarification. From Allen’s point of view—seeing as they had no clear relationship yet—that would be out of line for him to do. 

When Gaillon noticed this, he grinned.

"Excellent." He stepped back slowly, distancing himself from Allen. "If you had crossed the line there, that would have been the end. Knowing your boundaries is the most important thing.”

The Beast King’s laughter grew stronger.

"I'll give you three minutes."

* * *

* * *

The baptism of the stars.

As a result of that ritual, he could extend his senses to absorb all the information in the surrounding radius.

"Now that we’ve been well acquainted…”

The five senses when extended to the limit forced him to move without conscious thought, and the collected information went beyond prediction and into the realm of temporary foresight.

"Hold out as long as you can.”

Allen had no chance to answer, as Gaillon's body had vanished.

In his mind, the current movements of his foe and the predictions of his future actions intertwined.

Rather than stepping back, Allen closed the gap between them. He’d made note of Gaillon's speed and power from the previous attack. If his foe was going to be watching, he might as well just put everything on display.

Allen swung his sword downward, the motion precise. It was an artless blow, devoid of any of Vestla's teachings. However, the force emanating from his muscles was vigorous and one that could not be overlooked.

Gaillon's response to that was simple.

"Haha, good!"

Gaillon's sword parried his attacks one after another, prevent Allen's attacks from causing him any harm.

Allen's expression hardened at his opponent’s teasing air, as if he were simply playing around with a young child. He knew that his strength wouldn’t be enough to win, but he didn’t think that it would have such little impact. At the sight of it, Allen quickly adjusted his stance.

Vestla had once said that techniques were meaningless in the face of great power. However, she didn't say not to look for an opening to use them.

Allen's shadow rose up. With each step, his shadow melted further into the darkness of the night, creating countless afterimages.

The shadows instantly blended with the image of Allen, disrupting Gaillon's vision.

Gaillion swung his sword with great force.

Schwing!

The air around them burst as the shadows scattered into the wind.

"You got anything else besides this? Like the orbs of light from before?"

Allen's bid to close the gap was cut short at once. But he’d known that would happen. He was forced to stop, seeing the predetermined events play out as predicted.

Allen's brow twitched as he swung his sword into a certain position. The sword, now awakened by his anger, strangely fell from his contorted position.

Gaillon responded one beat behind Allen. But the results were no different.

"Are your eyes open? No, they’re not. That's pretty neat. Not too shabby."

Cough!

Allen's body twitched as a fist dug into his stomach.

"Except ‘not too shabby’ is about all it is."

Allen's body hunched over at the gut-wrenching punch. From there, Gaillon kicked him. Allen couldn't escape.

Crash!

Allen hit the ground, his body skipping across it a few times, before he finally found his balance. He was overwhelmed by dizziness for a moment.

When Allen finally overcame the shakiness in his legs, Gaillon's voice rang in his ears. "Well, how about it? The balance between the left and right sides of your body got pretty shaken up there. Pretty cool, huh?”

When he looked up, he saw Gaillon walking along, leisurely spinning his sword around.

Allen clenched his teeth. His opponent didn't even use his aura, yet there was still this much difference between them?

He knew that they weren’t on the same level, and he knew he would lose, of course. He also knew that the task of enduring a fight for a mere three minutes was simply a front to justify accepting Allen as his disciple.

‘But still.’

The gap between them was this large?

Even with the giant's body, even using Vestla's sword, he couldn't lay a single finger on him.

Even now, his amplified senses predicted his opponent’s movements, yet the predictions had no impact on the course of their fight. Allen wasn't even sure what he was looking at.

"What? Are you upset because you can't see it?"

Gaillon grinned as if he knew what was bothering Allen.

Allen let go of his hesitation. It was arrogance to say that he would only fight with a sword. He mistakenly thought that since Gaillon was a fellow swordsman that he himself—at least for this duel with the Beast King—should stick to the sword.

All he’d said was to hang in there.

His threads came loose. There would be no time to use magic. It'd be over as soon as he tried to conjure up anything. No warrior would give a sorcerer a chance to use his magic.

So, as long as he could create an opening—

‘I just need one chance.’

Allen rushed in, and they instantly clashed. Allen's whole sword turned red. He couldn’t evade his foe’s speed, and he was lacking in strength, so then what?

‘Sacrifice a pawn in order to pin down the king.’

The thread turned into a long dark green spear and shot toward Gaillon. He avoided the attack by twisting in place, as if he felt no threat.

Allen crouched and dug his right foot deep into the ground. One strike, a diagonal slash up and over. His sword rose as he attacked with all his might.

In the meantime, dozens of dark green spears dug in and restricted Gaillon’s movement, and Allen ran in toward him.

Watching as Allen came closer, Gaillon snorted in disbelief. "Hah, good. Good!"

Gaillon wound up an attack from where he stood. His fists curled and lodged into Allen’s side. Allen shouted and grabbed his wrist.

"Ahhh!"

Bear the pain.

Gaillon stopped for an instant, after dispensing that incredible power from his hands. 

Empty the dragon's core.

All the mana in the vicinity was sucked toward Allen, as his sword was bathed in light. The light gathered into a halo before Gaillon could even react.

The Beast King’s eyes opened wide.

"Shall we?"

The light of the sun exploded. There was no answer. Allen closed his eyes, yet no matter how long he waited, he didn't feel any pain.

When he opened his eyes, a dark-red light was wrapped around Allen's sword. The light of the sun struggled beneath it, then faded away.

"If you've come to your senses, step away from this old man."

Gaillon patted him on the shoulder, and Allen involuntarily took a few steps back.

"You were reckless at the end there, but that’s okay. Oh, and if you don’t think your skills are enough to finish the job, you should at least be prepared to die with your opponent."

Allen hadn’t been quite ready to die. He was confident that he could withstand that much of his own attack, and he thought it would be enough to take a shot at the Top Eight member in return for his injury.

⟬…Are you usually this stupid? Seriously! What are you doing, acting this recklessly!⟭

‘Didn’t I have to show him my all?’

⟬If you can't hold out, you can just surrender! Who said you had to win?⟭

Allen couldn't respond.

"I accept you. From today on, you’ll be my disciple.”

Only Gaillon burst into laughter, seemingly satisfied. He recalled Allen’s final attack.

'Pure light, just like the sun. That should be enough.’

That kind of power shouldn’t mix with divine power—like Jaqnelle—nor artificial power—like the chairman or her disciple, Maria.

'I found the right person.’

He squinted his eyes at the quarter-moon in the sky. 

Allen mustered up his strength and returned his throbbing body home. His midnight walk that had begun so suddenly came to its end.

—————

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