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Rain poured heavily from the sky, ceaseless and unrelenting, with no end in sight. As day turned to night, the blue expanse gave way to a dark canopy of clouds that continued to unleash the downpour.
The battle raged on. Two figures stood facing one another, each fueled by their own convictions and conflicting objectives. They stood amidst the pools of water that had accumulated since the rain began hours ago.
They stood on the street, directly in front of the Knightley Queen headquarters. Yet, scattered about were the lifeless bodies of Nephilim. Crimson fluid mingled with the rainwater; the armor they wore was stained with blood—some suits intact, others battered and ruined.
Some bodies lay face-up, staring into the dark sky until their eyes filled with rain.
Water streamed from their drenched hair, running down their cheeks and along the sides of their faces before dripping from their chins. Clothing that had once been light now clung to their bodies, heavy with the water they had absorbed. Their weapons were soaked through, from hilt to blade.
The only sound reaching their ears was the roar of the rain as it hammered against the ground. Even the sound of their own ragged breathing was reduced to a faint whisper, though they could feel it deep within bodies growing cold from the relentless downpour.
The young man with black-and-red hair took a deep breath, steadying himself to speak.
"Ha... Haaa..."
He addressed Verarin.
"Your entire force is gone. Only the captain remains... Just you." He pointed his index finger at the enemy standing before him. "When will you realize that your resistance is futile...?"
Verarin paused, not answering immediately. He was thinking of the feelings of every soldier who had fallen here—in the very place they were sworn to protect. Despite hearing words that cut to the heart, he would not take a single step back.
There was a reason he had been chosen as a captain—a Nephilim who walked the true path. A moment later, Verarin's lips curled into a smile, and he gave the answer he knew to be right.
Verarin decided to reveal his true nature as a Nephilim once more, no longer hiding behind that other, freer side of himself.
Yet, this did not diminish his authority, his resolve, or his courage as a captain. Instead, the two sides merged to form a more complete version of himself—a Nephilim free to be who he truly was, yet steadfast and brave enough to stand on the front lines whenever his people needed a leader.
"You think all of this is just a waste of time? Heh... I'm afraid not. Nothing here is in vain. Everything is proceeding exactly as intended, because this resistance is far from over."
He suddenly placed a hand against his forehead, sighing as if baffled by the young man's actions.
"Haaah... I don't understand what you plan to do if you actually manage to obtain that legendary artifact."
He lowered his hand and gazed at the young man, who stood silent and motionless before him. Without another word, Verarin spoke again. "If it were possible... I wouldn't want to fight anyone—including you."
The young man with black and red hair answered instantly, without a hint of hesitation. "It is only through combat... that we can truly understand each other."
"….." Verarin considered this.
"By the way, we haven't been introduced yet, have we? Shouldn't a true knight introduce himself out of respect for his opponent?"
He clearly understood the etiquette of dueling, yet his tone suggested he was merely toying with those very rules.
"And that is when the fight will be fair, isn't it?"
"Hmph..." Verarin exhaled sharply, immediately responding to the young man's surprisingly courteous words. "So, you do have some manners after all."
The young man gave a brief response, introducing himself as a mark of respect before the duel began.
He assumed his stance, holding his spear behind him.
"I, Fay, will bring this fight to a swift end."
Verarin responded in kind, gripping his sword tightly in front of him and steadying his stance for close-quarters combat.
"In that case, I—Verarin Sekaina—shall be the one to stop you."
Their fighting spirit flared up instantly; they locked eyes with sharp, intense gazes amidst the rain.
As water streamed from their hair, trickling down their cheeks and faces before dripping from their chins to the ground, Verarin Sekaina and Fay moved in unison.
The young man with black-and-red hair—Fay—swung his spear; by gripping the weapon's rear end with his right hand, he extended his reach significantly.
This allowed him to easily target his advancing opponent. Verarin did not stand idly by; reading the situation, he relied on instinct to parry the strike with the dagger in his left hand.
His blade held firm against the spear's thrust—a feat made possible by his naturally athletic and powerful physique. This created an opening to turn the tide: he shoved the spear aside while simultaneously lunging forward.
Closing the dangerous gap between them, Verarin prepared to drive his sword straight into the left side of his neck. Unfortunately it didn't work, because his attack was thwarted by the young man who moved his entire body to the right side. Avoiding attacks aimed at vital points, but he doesn't know the next attack will come.
Verarin drew his dagger straight towards the waist which had no defense whatsoever. However, Fay immediately launched a kick which aimed at Verarin's left hand.
Causing a crash into his arm that weakened his grip on his dagger and dropped him to the ground.
"Ack!"
Without a second thought, Fay immediately launched an attack with his spear. He pulled the weapon back, then thrust it forward, aiming for his opponent's head. Verarin quickly sized up the situation and decided to dodge by sidestepping to the right; not stopping there, he swiftly grabbed the spear's shaft with his left hand.
Fay's body lurched forward from the momentum, yet he managed to steady himself.
Unexpectedly, Verarin swung his sword to slash through the wooden shaft. The spear split in two: the section bearing the sharp iron tip fell to the ground, while the part remaining in Fay's grip was nothing more than a ruined, bladeless length of wood.
Fay was left dumbfounded, never imagining Verarin would resort to such a tactic.
"....?!"