The Academy’s Weapon Replicator

The moment Belphegor dropped his staff and Frondier drew swords in both hands.

Roach Swordsmanship Basics

Frondier-style Variation

Diagonal Slash, Cross Dual Swords

It was evident that Frondier's blades were radiating light.

Frondier crossed his arms, then spread them out in a crisscross motion.

"Kugh...!"

Belphegor's head spun for a moment.

The one thing he absolutely had to avoid was Excalibur. Being struck by that Mana-infused blade would be dangerous.

On the other hand, the short sword Frondier held in his other hand was short in length, and since he had already dropped his weapon, the previous technique was meaningless.

Swoosh!

Belphegor dodged the trajectory of Excalibur and dove deep into the side of the shorter sword.

It was the best judgment he could make in that brief moment. Thanks to it, he was able to avoid Excalibur.

His choice was not wrong, but...

Stab!

"?!"

He had to endure a greater wound than he had anticipated.

The blade of the short sword cut deep into his chest.

'The aura of the short sword...!'

In the midst of confusion and chaos, it was difficult to see clearly.

The characteristic of Frondier's aura, 'colorless'.

His aura, which extended the length of the blade, sliced through the unguarded devil's chest.

"Kugh, ugh...!"

Belphegor stumbled back in pain. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it wasn't a shallow one either. An ordinary human would have died instantly from that blow, but he endured it with his innate, powerful aura.

"...As expected of a devil."

Frondier's sunken eyes scanned the retreating Belphegor.

"To receive only that much damage from that blow."

"...You."

Belphegor's eyes turned red.

"How dare you..."

He was enraged, despite bearing the name of Sloth.

Belphegor was more furious about Frondier wielding swords in both hands before him than the fact that he had dropped his weapon or the wound on his chest.

"How dare you, wield dual swords before me...!"

─Dual swordsmanship is more powerful in illusion than in reality.

Throughout history, the idea of holding two swords in each hand wouldn't have been that difficult.

However, the number of people who actually use dual swords is countable.

This is because dual swordsmanship is not actually more effective.

Generally, dual swordsmanship is more difficult to handle than wielding one sword. Each blade interferes with the trajectory of the other, and unlike a one-handed sword that can be gripped with both hands if necessary, it is easy to drop the weapon.

Furthermore, as most slashing motions rely on the arms, it is impossible to put more power into a single strike.

That's why Belphegor thought Frondier was acting arrogantly, but...

"Don't get too angry, Belphegor."

Frondier's eyes were infinitely cold.

"I simply devised the most appropriate method to deal with you."

"...!"

Frondier still hadn't released his dual sword stance.

In the renewed confrontation, Belphegor soon realized Frondier's intention.

'...Indeed, those swords are what make dual swordsmanship possible.'

Frondier's dual swordsmanship, at this very moment, was different from the usual.

Excalibur, still imbued with his Mana, was a blade that could not be blocked, let alone struck.

Additionally, the short sword in his left hand had performed a single disarm, making him hesitate to let the weapons touch each other.

Excalibur, which had to be avoided at all costs, and the short sword, which could not be blocked with a weapon.

In Belphegor's situation, where he had to dodge and find an opening, the weaknesses of dual swords lost much of their significance.

'I hope he's conscious of the Falling Edge.'

And on top of that, Frondier's bluff.

Frondier couldn't yet use Falling Edge as freely as Azier. At least a skilled warrior would be able to distinguish between when Frondier was using Falling Edge and when he wasn't.

However, after seeing the Falling Edge for the first time, disarming his opponent's weapon so perfectly, Belphegor couldn't help but be wary.

"Zakon!"

Belphegor extended his arm, and the staff that had fallen due to the disarm trembled and flew towards him.

Crackle!

"You think that will happen?"

Of course, Frondier's Obsidian intervened, seizing the staff.

Belphegor's expression crumpled once more, but soon he tilted his head slightly as if a thought had occurred to him.

"...How curious."

With the anger seemingly gone from his face, he looked at Frondier.

"The technique you use is undoubtedly Weaving. The technique that the gods mutually agreed upon and made a pact to prevent from existing in this world. It is definitely a skill unique to Frondier de Roach. So that must mean you are Frondier."

"..."

Frondier pretended to be calm, but his mind was racing.

Weaving is a technique that the gods made a pact to prevent from existing?

Then was Thanatos' descent when the technique was activated also included in the gods' 'pact'?

"However, the amount of Helheim's Mana you possess is not something a mere human can gather."

Belphegor pointed to Frondier's Obsidian.

If Frondier's Mana included that of Helheim, it would surpass the time he had consumed the Dragon Heart. It was the reward for defeating countless souls in the fragments of Helheim.

"While alive, humans have almost the same soul quality. To overcome someone's soul requires a desperate struggle. Even warding off a mere imp is difficult for a human, but you devoured the power of relatively complete souls, close to tens of thousands, from Helheim? That's not something a human can do. Even devils wouldn't do something so reckless. What are you?"

Frondier remained silent at Belphegor's words.

In fact, it was something he himself questioned.

What he had faced was a massive clump of condensed souls. Though their numbers had decreased somewhat due to devouring each other, and their wills had lost direction, were they truly such easy opponents?

However, Frondier had shattered that clump. With just a single grab of his right hand. And at that moment, Frondier was certain he could win. Without any basis.

"Hoo."

Belphegor read Frondier's expression, unable to answer. His languid gaze fell upon Frondier.

"You still don't know what you are, do you? Outsider."

"..."

"Living in Frondier's body, imitating him, deceiving everyone around him, yet you don't even know what you are. Indeed, that's why you're a fake."

Belphegor extended a finger.

Frondier stiffened his posture in response.

However.

"I wouldn't normally use the power of the Deadly Sins on a human."

Frondier's mind went hazy for a moment, overwhelmed by a sudden, intense feeling of helplessness.

"But it's alright for you. Consider it my way of acknowledging you. Be grateful."

Frondier lowered the swords in his hands. His grip trembled.

Belphegor's slow voice sounded distant.

"People don't fear Sloth."

Frondier's hands holding the swords felt heavy, and all he could do was barely lift his eyes to look at Belphegor.

"Because they believe they can always break free from it with their own will. It's funny, they fear anger, lust, gluttony so much, yet they act as if they can shake off laziness at any time."

As Frondier listened to Belphegor's voice, he struggled to stand up somehow.

What he was experiencing wasn't just drowsiness or lethargy. It felt like being thrown into a swamp of existential helplessness, a sense of worthlessness in being alive.

He could probably stab himself in the heart right now and die without any pain. The sensation Frondier was feeling now was close to suicidal urges.

'What kind of power is this? Even my sixth sense didn't react.'

A power he didn't know where or how it came from. It wasn't simply a matter of being invisible or not.

"That's how humans die, Frondier. I've taken more human lives than any other devil."

Is this what a Deadly Sin is?

"It's trivial. Human death is like that. It's not war, famine, disease, or disaster. The fact that humans are so easily distracted by such obvious things is proof that the design of humans is slothful."

Is this the devil of Sloth, Belphegor?

* * *

Selena returned to her house in Manggot and changed her clothes.

Having grasped the geography of Manggot to some extent, and being an assassin originally, returning to her house was quite simple for her.

Her house seemed undisturbed, as all her clothes were intact. The embedded needles were also fine.

'...?'

However, she, who could perfectly sense the number of each needle, felt something strange.

The number of needles was different.

It wasn't lacking. There was exactly one more.

'What is it?'

But now, there was no time to take out all the needles and check them one by one to see what was wrong. Selena completed the rest of her checks and stepped outside.

'To get out...'

Selena moved cautiously, maintaining maximum stealth.

'Yeolgot', the assassin group raised by Manggot, and Selena, its last member, had absorbed all the essence of assassination, stealth, and acting that Manggot had developed over the years.

If she decided to hide, there were very few people within Manggot who could find her.

'...That's.'

Selena, carefully walking through the cave, stopped for a moment.

Manggot's personnel were gathered in one place, forming a circle. The continuous sound of prayers and songs. The powerful aura of Mana emanating.

A ritual to summon a god.

'Dangerous.'

Selena didn't know exactly when the god would descend, but she knew that the amount of Mana gathered there was dangerous at a glance.

It was close to descent, almost instinctively, Selena felt it.

The reason Frondier came alone to Manggot was also for this god's descent. The Empire's Spear had flown here to pierce that altar.

However.

'...Can he defeat Belphegor?'

Selena bit her lip in worry for Frondier.

She had seen enough of Frondier's strength, but Belphegor was a devil of the Seven Deadly Sins. Frondier was practically facing a god.

A devil of that level was no different from being in the position of a god.

'No, I have to trust him now.'

Selena shook her head. Even if she intervened in their fight now, there would be nothing she could do.

From the moment she asked Frondier for help until now, Selena always had the same thought.

She would just do what she could.

Swoosh-

As Selena slowly made her way towards the exit.

With near-perfect stealth and the map of Manggot in her head.

There was no problem reaching the exit with the combination of those two, but...

"..."

If someone was standing at the exit she needed to leave from, that wouldn't be a problem with stealth.

"Selena. Go back."

The man waiting at the exit spoke with a heavy voice as Selena approached.

Seeing him say her name,

Selena glared at him with cold eyes, as if trying to pierce him.

"...My name."

Releasing her stealth, Selena stood before him.

"You knew my name, Hagley."

Hagley simply stood with his hands behind his back, looking at Selena with a benevolent expression, as if looking at a child.

"Of course, Selena."

Hagley extended one hand towards Selena.

As if giving her one last chance, Hagley's eyes softened, and he spoke as if it were nothing significant.

"It was I who brought you from the family."