The Failed Swordsman Who Became the Strongest After Spamming the 100 Million Years Button-Chapter 401 - Country of Sakura, Cherin and the Seven Holy Swords [171]
401. Country of Sakura, Cherin and the Seven Holy Swords [171]
「Damnit! Bacchus-san cleared a path of escape by risking his life…」
「But this number… is too much…」
Allen and Ria clenched their fists with regret.
「…This is…the end.」
「We can’t win against such a large army…」
「We had such a short life…」
Sie, Lilim, and Ferris squeezed out those words from their mouths.
A large army of gliders, rode by swordsmen dressed in black cloak, surrounded them from both left and right. They numbered about 10,000.
Moreover, all of them were soul dress users. And three of them donned the cloak of the Thirteen Knights of the Oracle.
The difference in strength was clear.
While Allen and the others were fearing the worst case scenario, 𝒇𝘳ℯℯ𝚠𝙚𝑏𝗻𝑜ѵ𝑒𝙡.co𝑚
「No problem. We’ll just cut through them.」
Only Rose alone was not afraid in the slightest, keeping her eyes forward the whole while.
「R-Rose… that’s just…」
「No matter how you think about it, it’s impossible…」
Allen and Ria shook their heads slightly and spoke out simultaneously.
However, Rose did not change her stance.
「My grandfather – the “World’s Strongest Swordsman” said that he would help everyone escape safely. There is no doubt about that!」
The moment she asserted that, the 100 Million Year Sakura began to shine like never before.
■
When Allen and the others were sinking to the bottom of despair,
「A total of 10,000 reinforcements led by three Thirteen Knights of the Oracle… It is checkmate.」
Von spoke cheerfully with a fearless smile.
「W-When did you gather such a large army!?」Bacchus asked.
「Don’t get me wrong. Originally, they were ambush soldiers prepared to make sure that Bacchus Valencia is killed no matter what. The first team was me and Deal, and the second team was 10,000 soul dress users. We intended to whittle down your strength in continuous waves, but… it came in handy in an unexpected situation.」
「Nuu…」
Bacchus groaned at the display of the organization’s strength.
「Anyway, this confirms the death of Allen Rodore’s group. You’re the only one left now, Bacchus. Just die a noble death, ghost of a previous era!」
「You whipped your old body and tried your best, but… Kuku, you couldn’t save anyone in the end! What a pity, Bacchus old boy!」
Von and Deal readied their respective weapons, a sand sword and a poison sword, convinced of their victory.
Bacchus, on the other hand, looked up at the sky and sighed.
「Haa… Do you guys know…I have never told a single lie since the day I was born…」
「…What about it?」
「Hmm, what are you trying to say?」
In response to the sudden confession, the two tilted their necks.
「Well, like I told them… I will help them escape. Then that is exactly what I shall do!!!」
The moment Bacchus roared, a tremendous amount of spiritual power swept in the atmosphere.
「This absurd spiritual power… you, no way!」
「No, no, no… Isn’t this overkill!?」
Von and Deal involuntarily doubted their eyes.
A phantom spirit is not just a simple spirit core.
It is a genuine monster that possesses a strong ego and power beyond human comprehension.
In order to pull power from such a thing and manifest it as a “soul dress”, extraordinary training and enormous spiritual power is required.
And one would have had to walk the path of carnage and blood if one wishes to unleash the phantom spirit and wield it as a “true soul dress”.
The “True Soul Dress of Phantom Spirit” means whether or not a first-rate swordsman with innate talent can finally reach the power level of the phantom spirit by investing every ounce of his spiritual power during his prime days… It is such a paranormal power.
It is by no means something that a swordsman over 250 years old like Bacchus can wield.
(But how… how are you releasing such “pressure”!?)
Von stared at the man named Bacchus Valencia while clenching his teeth.
His prime days have long since passed. Suffering from an incurable disease, he should only possess a meager amount of spiritual power… there should be no way for a dying swordfighter to wield “that power”.
(I-Impossible… This is absolutely impossible. This defies logic…)
The old swordsman eerily calmed down―.
And then shouted out loud, as if ridiculing the conventional logic of the world.
「Graft – Sephirot!」
