The victor stood tall as if emphasized the huge gap between them. He looked at Selv’s pathetic state, down to his knee, unable to muster any strength.

Selv was wounded by the surprise attack that came out of nowhere. He had let his guard down. He should know better than thinking his opponent could only use one type of magic. As a result, there he was, holding his chest with a pained face on the ground.

The intense pain in his chest told him it was no longer possible to continue. He had lost with no room for excuses. Splendid. He would offer his praise if not for the pain hindering his speech.

The man had defeated the strongest human. He should be proud of his feat for it was not easy. But, instead of a satisfied or happy face, the man’s face curled into a frown.

“Why did you stop?”

Selv did not answer for he was unable to.

“Not only you stopped midway, but you also aimed a non-vital spot. Are you looking down on me?” He said, grabbing Selv by the collar, forcing him to stand. His face showed pure anger.

Selv didn’t know the reason behind it, but as the loser, he was obligated to answer. While fighting against the pain, he slowly said.

“No…”

He coughed. He needed more time until he would be able to talk proper. The man waited, still holding him by the collar.

“It’s what you think. I didn’t hesitate until the last moment.”

It was slow, but he managed to put his words together.

“Then, why?”

“I had no choice. That’s my limit.”

Even now, he was holding his chest and the man finally noticed it. The wound on his side was nothing serious. Blood poured, yet as long he didn’t pull it, there should be no problem to fight. The problem was the pain in the chest which was far greater.

One the last moment, Selv managed to notice the approaching knife. It was impossible to dodge, but his sword would’ve pierced the man faster, stopping the knife in succession. Yet, his body betrayed him at the very last moment, making him missed the chance and was consumed by the pain. That one little trouble messed his only chance of victory.

“You’re naive,” the man said. There was no sign of him being convinced with this result and his explanation.

“What’s the point of not going for the kill? Do you expect to neutralize me and have a pleasant talk or something? Foolish.”

Selv said nothing because that indeed was what he was planning to do.

“There are problems unsolvable by just exchanging words, which are empty most of the time. This’s one of it.”

Wrong. He wanted to object. But, only coughs came out because the hold was starting to get him. Perhaps, sensing he had something to say, the man let go of him. Selv coughed a few times and caught his breath before said with a stern look.

“Why do you think that way? There’s nothing we can’t solve if we really talk with each other.”

“Mere sophistry.”

“Whatever you might call it. But, I’ve seen people did just that. Instead of pointing blades at each other, they talked and came in a term. This town is the result!”

The man snorted as if found it funny.

“Then, look behind you. That’s the proof that you’re wrong.”

With the wind now gone, he could see the building which was still dyeing the night bright.

“What proof is there? That’s an accident. Surely, someone forgot to turn off the gas or something.”

“Except, it wasn’t an accident. Far from it. The thing you’re seeing is the crystallization of dissatisfaction. The people you thought understand each other aren’t so in reality. Unable to accept it or voice it, dissatisfaction piled up until it became that fire.”

The man looked at it burning fiercely with no sign of ever going out. It had risen and engulfed the building whole. Given enough fuel, it would reach even heaven itself. People splashed a bucket of water from the roof, barely changing anything. Such small actions couldn’t possibly extinguish the fire, never. Once it had become like this, only heaven could put it out, or when it ran out of materials to burn.

“Even so…”

Selv brought back the man’s attention with his voice.

“I believe that we can talk this out.”

Selv rose, limping on one side, legs shaking vigorously. He couldn’t back down again. Not this time.

He knew the possibility of it being the result of an accident was slim. Furthermore, from the man’s words, he was able to speculate it was caused by demons.

Still, he placed his trust, faith, on people. They could understand each other. The difference might hinder them, but deep down they wished for the same thing. No one would choose to do something bad, gathering hatred without a good reason. People by nature would choose to be like instead.

That was why he needed to be there and listen to their voice.

The man was not amused by his answer as his mouth curved downward.

“Who cares about your belief? You’re weak. I could end you together with that belief at my convenience. That should prove we’re unable to understand each other and that you’re wrong.”

He pointed his weapon at Selv’s throat.

“Belief is nothing if you can’t protect it. Much less proving its righteousness when the speaker is dead. The only way for you to prove me wrong is by backing your belief with enough strength, far greater than mine. After all, belief is all about strength. Not that it matters since you’re going to die soon.”

He said no more and raised his sword for the finishing strike. His eyes told him that he was going for the kill.

Selv managed to stand up by mustering his strength. He didn’t have enough spare to dodge, block, or parry the incoming attack. All he could do was watched as the man denied his belief.

At least, he thought. He will die protecting what he thought was right. It was not a bad way to die considering he had wanted to die to run away from the harsh world.

He braced himself, but several things crossed his mind, regrets and trivial things like will Annatashya finished the foods they brought before it rots, or who will take care of Nely after he was gone. Luxurious worries for someone about to meet his end.

But, stimulated by that thoughts, the curse kicked in, spreading across his body like spider webs. He could feel his body resisted against his will.

No. He begged.

Was it too much to ask to have an honorable death? He cursed the curse. A funny thing to do. Perhaps pleased by it, the curse moved at a greater pace than usual.

The man swung his sword and then-

“AAAAAA!!!”

Someone flew at an amazing speed and cut between them, smashing the spot into bits.

The man moved back, protecting himself from sharing the same fate as the roof tiles.

“Hurt. Selv. Bad!”

Who came to the rescue was the boy with unthinkable strength from his body, Scond. He intimidated the man with a shout and a big lump of metal.

“Why are you here?”

Selv widened his eyes in surprise. He never expected he or someone else to be here.

There were currently on the roof, which in case it was not clear enough, a place where people don’t go to on normal circumstances. Furthermore, they were on the opposite side of the Entertainment district. He had no idea what lead him to this place.

“Heard. Explosion. Took shortcut and flashing. See.”

Scond tried to explain with his unique way of talking. Selv somewhat managed to decipher the information since he was used to it.

It seemed he heard the explosion too and went to check it, only to encounter the same human traffic problem. He then took a shortcut to the roof and saw something flashing in the distance. That must have lured him here. But, since smoke was here until a while ago, he must have hesitated on going until it cleared up. As a result, he saved Selv.

What saved him was nothing but a single stroke of good fortune. He thought of him as an unlucky man, but he was always saved like this from time to time. When he thought he missed another chance to die because of it, he didn’t know what to feel about it.

“A hindrance had come. I will spare you for now, but don’t think the same for the second time because the next time we meet I will put an end to your foolish belief.”

He declared such and turned around, unsheathing his weapon.

“Wait!”

Scond shouted. He made a mad dash with his metal to strike the defenseless back. The man, however, didn’t bother looking back and walked away. Before Scond could reach him, an almost too convenient wind blew the smoke again, hiding the man’s figure. He was gone by the time it cleared up as if left with the wind.

The knife on his side, Scond standing in front of him, and the mess around told nothing but his complete defeat. At least, in a physical fight.

He hadn’t lost on the other fight. He managed to stay firm with his belief and still with his life. According to the man’s logic, strength was crucial in having beliefs. So, as long he had his life and kept rejecting his, it won’t be his defeat.

The fight was ongoing. He swore to himself to pay back his defeat by beating the man to a pulp in this fight.

“Next time, surely.”

But, for the time being, he thought of getting himself treated and check the Business district.

Scond came and supported him who was pushing himself on walking.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry.”

He insisted he was fine, which didn’t convince anyone with his staggering and bloodied body. Scond moved to stop him.

“Please. I need to go there,” Selv said, trying to make his way.

“No. Rest.”

“Scond, please.”

He troubled Scond with it, making him held his head and groaned. In the end, he gave in.

“Thank you,” Selv said, moving past him only to stumble.

Scond held and lent his shoulder. The height different caused an awkward position, but they managed to move together somehow.