Sir Fluffy seemed to know nothing of Vlad.

Well, that wasn’t surprising. From the first moment I’d met him, he never showed the slightest interest in such things. He was the same man who had dismissed Ophosis’s Dagger without a second thought.

So this time, I said nothing. I simply let him grab the blade.

Somehow, I felt that was the better way.

Why? Couldn’t explain it. Just a gut feeling.

The moment his hand gripped Vlad’s hilt, the sword cried out as though waking from a long slumber.

Fweeeeeeeng!

Sir Fluffy’s eyes widened, and he clutched the hilt with both hands.

A wise choice.

Because a moment later, the ground beneath us began to quake violently.

Rrrrrr—!

The signs of rampage.

The Black Prince barked, “Hold your ground! It begins now!”

Sir Fluffy trembled as if wracked by convulsions, still gripping the hilt. Veins bulged along his neck, his face twisted in agony.

“Ghhk...!”

I stepped quickly behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sir Fluffy. I’m behind you. Don’t be afraid.”

He roared like a cornered beast. “Devil, you son of a bitch!”

“Music to my ears.”

I leaned closer, speaking over the tremors rattling his body.

“Do not draw the sword. Endure. With everything you have. Vlad’s will to break free will surge, but you must resist. Force it back into the earth.”

“And how am I supposed to resist!?”

“How should I know? I’m not the one holding it.”

“Shit... shit!”

“Figure it out. Improvise.”

He gasped, “If... if I pull it out, what happens!?”

I grinned.

“What do you think? You’ve got an idea, don’t you?”

“Grrhh...!”

“Exactly. You die.”

I pressed firmer on his shoulder as his body quaked. My voice trembled along with him, though he was far too overwhelmed to notice.

“More precisely, you’ll die by my hand. Because the moment you lose yourself, you’ll become a mad fiend in thrall to the sword. And before that happens, I’ll cut you down.”

“Kh!”

“Truth is, this wound on my arm wasn’t from the Frost Knight at all. That healed long ago. No... this was from fighting a man who had been consumed by Vlad.”

“...!”

Of course, I had no real intention of killing him. It was a harmless lie, a scare meant to sharpen his will.

I patted his shoulder and smiled.

“So fight with all you’ve got, Sir Fluffy.”

His teeth ground audibly. “If I become a fiend... you’ll be the first I kill.”

“Oooh, terrifying.”

But only threats make life bitter. I sweetened it with a promise.

“On the other hand—if you endure, you’ll grow stronger. You’ll become Vlad’s true master. Imagine the power that awaits you.”

“Even as its master... I’ll still kill you.”

“...”

So either way, I died.

Which meant I had to keep persuading.

“Sir Fluffy, try thinking positive. Negative thoughts draw negative outcomes.”

“Kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you—”

“...”

So much for positive thinking.

But whether his resolve was fueled by hate or hope, I no longer doubted him.

However long it took, Sir Fluffy would become Vlad’s chosen master.

[He will.]

Even the Heavenly Demon agreed, nodding.

Already, he showed his difference.

Every other knight who touched Vlad had instantly rolled their eyes red and become a raving fiend.

But Sir Fluffy? He was snarling curses, fighting back, clinging to himself with sheer fury.

“Devil, you bastard... I’ll tear you apart! Even then it won’t be enough! I’ll crush you, I’ll gut you—!”

“If cursing me gives you strength, then curse away. I’ll gladly be your sacrifice.”

“Mad psycho... I’ll beat you senseless, kick you in the balls till you puke blood—”

“...That’s going too far.”

The Heavenly Demon spoke up.

[Give him some of your energy. He’s struggling to keep his mind from being drowned in the sword’s will.]

I pressed my palm flat against his back.

“All right, then. A little encouragement.”

Gathering my inner force, I slowly funneled it into him.

I trusted he could overcome Vlad regardless, but this would shorten the battle.

Leaning close, I whispered, “How can a swordsman be beaten by a sword? Tell me that.”

“...”

“A knight, enslaved by a blade? Pathetic. If it were me, I’d die of shame. Sir Fluffy—do you plan to disgrace yourself like that? Of course not.”

“Shut up!”

The night was dim beneath a weak moon.

All around, Black Knights stood with torches in silence, their eyes fixed on the struggle.

At the center, one ragged knight clutched a seething crimson blade, straining against it with all his might.

The sight was like some legend made flesh—an ancient hero grasping the sword of destiny.

Except... the sword was no holy relic, but a cursed weapon bleeding malevolent light.

And instead of pulling it free, the knight fought desperately to keep it buried.

Yet to me, the image was no less heroic.

Vlad’s will to be drawn out wrestled against Sir Fluffy’s will to keep it sealed, a fierce tug-of-war.

Time dragged.

An hour. Two. Three.

I lost track.

He wrestled with the sword.

I wrestled with sleep.

“Damn it, I’m about to nod off... What are we doing, pulling all-nighters like this?”

“...”

“Fluffy, you can’t even subdue a single sword? Pathetic. No wonder I keep stealing yours.”

“...”

“What have you been up to, anyway? That new blade of yours was pretty. Where’d you dig up a treasure like that?”

“...”

To keep myself awake, to keep him anchored, I rattled on and on, not even bothering to filter my words.

It wasn’t mere chatter—it was a lifeline, a constant stream of sound to keep him from slipping under Vlad’s pull.

In my way, it was the truest encouragement I could give.

“Hey, what does a king say when he doesn’t want to go home?”

“...”

“Palace grumbling, palace grumbling.”

“You son of a bitch...”

And all the while, I trickled my energy steadily into his back.

Even little by little, over hours, it drained me.

After all, even a drizzle will soak you through if it lasts long enough.

So many different ways I’d tried to keep him going—jokes, chatter, threats, encouragement. And whenever Sir Fluffy stopped answering, I had to check if he was still with us.

“Fluffy, are you still alive?”

“...”

“Oh no. Looks like the sword’s eaten him after all. Guess I’ll have to kill him.”

Shrrk—

I’d half draw my blade, and only then would his voice croak back.

“...Not eaten.”

“Oh? That’s a relief. Thought I’d lost you. But seriously, when a man speaks, he expects an answer.”

“...Could you shut up? My ears are bleeding.”

“Impossible. Speaking of which, reminds me of my mercenary days, back when I hunted magic beasts...”

Time flowed on.

The moon waned, the night deepened, and at last dawn crept up quietly.

The tremors in the ground slowly eased. At first, the quakes had nearly toppled us; now, they were no more than a faint shiver, hardly noticeable unless you focused.

For Vlad to resist so long... and for Fluffy to hold on through it all... I had to admit, both were remarkable.

“Haaahm...”

I yawned and glanced sideways.

The Black Prince sat not far away, dark circles heavier than ever, staring intently at Fluffy. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t blinked all night.

I’d gone to such lengths to force him to rest, and here he was, worse off than before. The sight soured my chest.

Time slipped away again.

At some point, I lifted my hand from Fluffy’s back. My energy was gone; I was spent.

I stretched my aching body, glanced about, and spotted Shushruta and Linda curled up in a nearby tree, fast asleep.

And around the clearing, I realized the number of onlookers had grown.

There was Count Starvanger, Sir Walpole, Sir Curtis, Sir Schneider... and there, even the golden-haired Knight Commander herself.

I backed away a few steps from Fluffy and sat down.

Placing a hand on the ground, I felt the faintest of vibrations—so faint, you wouldn’t notice unless you tried.

Vlad was nearly still.

But in contrast, a crimson haze was rising from Fluffy’s body. From up close I hadn’t seen it, but now, sitting back, it was clear.

He no longer needed my help. So I simply watched in silence.

More time passed.

By the time the sun stood high overhead, the tremors had vanished completely. The red haze thickened, wrapping around him like a mantle.

And at last, Sir Fluffy drew the blade.

“...!”

I leapt to my feet.

All around, knights shifted, armor clinking as they fixed their eyes on him.

He stood still, eyes closed, then turned slowly toward me. His voice was calm, like the surface of a lake.

“Devil.”

“I’m here.”

“Do you have the sheath?”

I slipped it from my belt and tossed it to him.

Still with eyes shut, he caught it and slid Vlad inside.

Clack.

The sound rang sharp as the sword was sealed.

Then, still with eyes closed, he asked, “Devil.”

“What.”

“This Vlad... it’s Ophosis’s ninth blade, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“...”

He fell silent for a moment, as though words had deserted him. Then quietly,

“Why... give this to me?”

I shrugged. “Because I felt like it.”

He nodded slowly. “...I see.”

I smiled faintly. “I did say I’d repay you. Consider it even for all those swords I stole.”

At that, he opened his eyes with the barest hint of a smile.

“That is enough.”

And his gaze, now glowing crimson like Vlad’s own blade, met mine.

Time until the final battle: three days.

Sir Fluffy had become the master of the cursed sword.

What happened afterward is hazy.

I collapsed into the sunlight, sprawled out, and slipped into a dead sleep.

I remember waking here and there, being lifted or carried like a sack of grain, but I refused to be dragged out of the depths of slumber.

A sleepless night, inner energy burned to its dregs—the two together crushed me under a mountain of fatigue.

I slept like the dead.

When I next opened my eyes, I was in a moving carriage.

The wheels clattered beneath me, and something soft supported the back of my head. Above me stretched a wooden ceiling.

Then a face suddenly popped into view.

“You’re awake.”

Another face pushed in beside it.

“Ah! Devil, you’re up! Want some mushrooms?”

I blinked, shoved them both aside, and sat up.

Outside, unfamiliar scenery rolled past the window.

Groggy, I muttered, “...Where are we?”

From across the carriage came the reply.

“We have arrived in Valeria, the capital of the Blake Kingdom.”

I stared blankly at Sir Walpole, seated opposite me.

It felt like I was still dreaming.

“Already?”

His voice was steady, matter-of-fact.

“Two days have passed.”

“Two days?”

“Yes. Two days.”

“...”

Time until the final battle: one day.

We had reached the capital of the Blake Kingdom—Valeria.

(End of Chapter)

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