Chapter 144: Light in the Dark (2)

Why do people who were living normally become monsters, and I cannot save that, yet this kind of guys live carefree.

If they are going to die anyway, it would be good if guys like you died.

In a vision turned pure white by anger and sadness and hatred, only killing intent is purely polished.

See, a little more. A little more and this kind of frail neck snaps pokiri.

"Wa, bu...!?"

The instant she thought that, some sticky liquid was showered on her face.

Sticky adhesive that sticks to the whole face. Nose and mouth are buried, it is painful, she hurriedly wipes mucus with both hands.

In the middle of that a sound dosari rang. What rang from her feet was the sound of the man Knuckle had been squeezing the neck of until just now falling. Did he still have consciousness, he roughly breathes while painfully rubbing his neck.

She failed to finish him.

In a vague head she thinks only that.

Therefore she swings up her right hand.

"Open your eyes! That is not what you want to do...!"

There, a tentacle twined.

A disgusting sticky feeling.

But a familiar, reliable feeling.

Atel Octo, still collapsed on the ground, had stretched that tentacle hand.

"You want to save even guys who became Monster Villains, right!? You were worrying thinking that, right!? And yet what do you do if you fall to darkness...!"

Ah, that is so, but.

Even if she understands the logic the words slip on the surface and do not reach the heart.

"I do not particularly care if this kind of bunch die."

You are different, right?

He turns a face covered in tentacles, red eyes, straight this way and shouts.

"You like Sunday-morning-like heroes, you like Sunday-morning-like heroines, so you are working hard, right!? Do not choose an easy road that easily...!"

That kind of words.

Hearing that, what Knuckle held was conviction.

Not in the meaning that those words are correct.

(Ah. As I thought.)

She had thought no way.

Maybe it is so, also.

But with those words she could hold certainty.

From that shock the boiling head also cools.

(...Certainly this is bad.)

Ah, her stomach is standing, and the feeling of wanting to punch them is certainly still in her chest.

If you are going to die anyway die first from you lot. That kind of dark emotion also does not vanish.

But Knuckle knows.

What kind of human "he" who stopped her originally is.

A weak part he did not show when acting as Atel Octo. No, maybe only Knuckle has not noticed. Because she knows it.

That kind of person braced and stretched a tentacle hand to help her.

(Then here I cannot lose to my own feelings.)

She knows a hundred times she is still weak.

But precisely because of that she thinks she must not throw away only this feeling.

"...Thank you, Atel-san."

She cuts her gaze from the delinquent students and glares at Alter.

What she should fight, what she should defeat, is that man.

Knuckle who adjusts her breath and readies her fists. Receiving the hostility released from her head-on, Alter laughs.

"So? What will you do."

"I defeat you, and Atel-san. There are various things I think, but I will also save these guys."

The delinquent students also finally understood they are not safe, and slowly approach directing fawning smiles at Knuckle.

Ah, her stomach stands.

She also thinks what happens if she saves this kind of bunch.

But even so she does not take the option of abandoning them.

While staring at that state, Atel Octo still face-down on the ground laughs.

"If you had quickly killed me it would have been good. You got conceited, Alter Native."

"Fool."

In that instant Alter kicks the ground and closes distance.

"...!?"

For an instant a blank is born in Knuckle’s thinking.

Because she thought the Magician Diabolic named Alter Native is a magician, a rear guard protected by combatants and Monster Villains and Meldiana.

If he chanted she thought she would immediately crush the first move, but charging in gripping a fist was unexpected.

But even so. Because every morning she was trained by Saber, and recently by Knight too, probably. Her body moved naturally.

"Carelessness? Conceit? No way. Did you think I did not assume it."

She crosses her arms and guards. She small-groans at the ringing impact.

Not an attack in desperation. Fast, and heavy.

"Certainly I am a magician. But a weak one who can only use magic cannot possibly survive in that world."

He laughs that being defended is already woven in, sways a jet-black coat, flexes a long leg like a whip and strikes Knuckle.

While twisting her face in pain Knuckle thrusts a fist.

A full-power attack wrapped in magical power of light. If it hits directly even a Magician Diabolic will not be safe.

"Lukewarm. Only output, you."

Yes, if it hits directly.

The attack released intending a finisher is lightly let flow. Physical ability should be above, yet in technique, in experience, she is completely losing.

"Th, is...!"

Though she recklessly steps in and keeps swinging fists, she is hit by counters again and again and again and again.

Painful, hard. But she cannot take distance.

In the first place this distance where fist and fist collide is Knuckle’s range. Even if she is losing it is the only distance with a winning chance.

If she takes distance hating continuing to be hit, last. Alter uses magic.

If she gives even one opening for activation there is already no winning chance for Knuckle.

"Oi oi, is that fine."

"Even though you name yourself Knuckle you lose with fists, put in more spirit and fight, useless."

The delinquents’ jeers make her stomach stand. But she cannot rebut.

It is always like this. She can fight small combatants and sudden Monster Villains, but in important situations she only becomes disadvantaged.

In the end Sacred Knuckle is weak.

No, wrong. This body transformed into Sacred is strong more than enough. What is weak is the software. The existence named Haga Reiko who moves the hardware.

If Saber or Knight possessed the same specs as her they would have defeated the enemy more brilliantly and certainly.

"Even so!"

What of it, she shouts that.

Like a fool’s one memory she steps in and gets her face punched.

"Even. so...!"

What do I care, she swings a fist, yet it does not hit.

Alter who lightly avoided, while twisting his face as if troublesome, slams a palm heel into her chest. Kafu, did the inside get wounded by the permeated impact, she vomits blood from her mouth.

But not yet, not yet, not yet, still still still...!

"Yes, not yet. yet...!"

She had thought she wants to become like a champion of justice.

Precisely like a masked hero, like a cute cure-cure transformation heroine.

But reality is not sweet.

Painful, hard, even if she works hard she cannot save, and on top of that she has to protect even hopeless guys.

Why am I doing this kind of thing. Even though she should have become the self she admired when she had no power, she ends up thinking that.

But now what floats in her head is the April day.

The scene of that day she looked straight at Alter from the club room and saw the figure of senpai truly frightened beside her.

While drawing that in her brain she swallows the pain and fear of being hit back, the anxiety and impatience of attacks not hitting, the lament of why, everything everything, and goes forward.

(Yes. What I excel at is only specs.)

Possessing an Earth human body, and having affinity with magical power of light.

She can keep using the power of light that Saber and Knight use for life support the same as blood only for fighting.

Therefore without thinking of spare power she advances straight.

Yes. If even one hits the scale of the match tilts this way.