"—Ha!"
As the words fell, Erza's pupils shrank to pinpoints. She reflexively leaned back as two cold flashes skimmed across her brow.
A few strands of scarlet hair, lifted by momentum, were sliced and drifted down.
So fast...
A single thought surfaced. The newcomer's speed outstripped what her eyes could track.
"What was that just now...?"
Steadying herself, Erza brought her twin blades crosswise and murmured.
From that distance, he had reached her in a blink, and—if she wasn't mistaken—he'd swung twice in that instant.
If Roland hadn't held back, her carelessness would have put her on the ground.
"Ashina Style Secret Art: Cross Slash."
Roland held the blade one-handed and explained, unhurried.
Cross Slash was just that—two intersecting cuts unleashed in the same instant, vertical and horizontal, leaving no angle to guard.
Ordinarily, mastering such a finisher would take more than ten years of harsh training—assuming enough talent.
"Set your stance. I'm coming again."
With that brief warning, Roland glanced up at the sun and eased the katana back into its scabbard.
It was already afternoon; he could feel his power ebbing... but so what.
As strength waned, he could make up the difference with technique.
As long as the sun hadn't fully set, he could fight.
Catching his look, Erza fixed on him as if facing a great foe, her expression turning grave.
Shing!
Steel flashed free. This time she didn't lose sight of him—but her high guard met his rising cut and halted it only with effort.
And then—
The endlessly shifting sequence that followed widened her eyes. A tight, rapid chain of rings on steel burst in the arena's center.
His figure, like a dancer's, pressed in without letup. Faced with ever-faster arcs of light, Erza abandoned offense and fell into pure defense.
"Am I seeing this right? In swordplay... Erza can't answer him?"
"He's too strong! Magic or sword—what a monster!"
"Erza, don't lose!"
Even under the barrage, Erza's years of battle experience left no gaps. She caught everything—but her breath had begun to quicken.
"The form Floating Passage. Odd it's filed under Ashina Style, but it works well."
Breaking away, Roland glanced at the nicked and pitted edge of his katana, a wry note in his voice.
The reward should have been only Ashina techniques, yet the memories in his head held not just that school's swordwork, but archery and even gunnery.
Perhaps that mix was why it was called the Ashina Style.
"Ha... astonishing swordsmanship."
Erza drew short breaths, eyed her own battered blade, then summoned a fresh katana and tossed the ruined one aside.
"I'm not done yet."
"Heaven's Wheel: Bladestorm!"
No sooner had she gripped the new sword than her arms crossed and she shot forward at terrifying speed.
Clang—
The crash of iron on iron boomed. Roland raised his long blade vertical on reflex and caught her twin swords.
The force drove through the steel; he slid back two or three meters, his feet furrowing the ground.
With the sun sinking, his raw power was no longer what it was at noon.
And Erza was S-Class.
At the same time, the sixteen Heaven's Wheel swords behind her launched in a volley.
With no time to spare, Roland slipped aside and battered the onrushing blades from the air, sparks spraying.
"More incoming."
Erza's warning was almost gracious. Dozens more swords had already gathered at her back.
As a set effect of the Heaven's Wheel Armor, the storm of flying blades was her own technique as much as any form.
Roland had no complaints meeting it head-on.
"Secret Art: Dragon Flash."
He sheathed again; when the blade flashed out, a wave of edge born from the air itself ripped forth and cleaved every flying sword from the sky.
"Requip: Black Wing Armor!"
Crimson sigils flared. The elegant Heaven's Wheel set vanished, replaced by a deep-black panoply, the metal four-wings turned to demonic pinions.
In this set, her attack power spiked.
Wings spread, Erza hefted a grotesque greatsword—and disappeared, leaving only a blur.
"That set's fine, but I prefer the last one."
Roland appraised her lightly, unafraid, and stepped in smiling.
Ashina Style: Ichimonji.
His blade swept across the pronounced curve of her waist with crushing weight. Erza's eyes flew wide; her grip on the greatsword shook, nearly failing.
She was hammered through the air into the wall, a roar and a cloud of dust erupting on impact.
A plain, simple cut, nothing but a horizontal stroke—yet the force inside it was staggering.
"Shall we continue, Miss Erza?"
Ignoring the gaping stares around them, Roland turned toward the rubble and asked.
He still hadn't used Swallow Reversal. Tempting—but if he did, someone might die.
"Cough... enough. I've lost this match."
Propping herself up from the wreckage, Erza stepped out, face dust-streaked, eyes complicated as they met his.
Incredible—those techniques...
Seeing her concede, Roland's lips lifted.
"Guild's Strongest" achievement unlocked.
Among S-Class, he hadn't yet crossed swords with Gildarts or Mystogan.
But at high noon, he was certain he wouldn't lose.
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