A Knight Remembers and Repays (3)
Ding. Deeeeng.
Lee Han struck the bell again.
In the South, most bells were the inner-striking kind, fitted with clappers like little rattles. This was the rarer outer-striking sort, meant to be beaten with an iron hammer or a wooden club. Rust spotted it here and there, and it was endlessly plain to look at, yet its voice alone rang clearer than any bell's and carried farther than any of them.
It was no mere chime one could dismiss. The tone was lovelier than any instrument. It washed the ears clean and scoured a stifled, spinning head until the mind ran bright, and the sound seemed to seep into the body itself. Before long, even one's vigor began to brim and overflow.
"...Star Song."
Was there someone among them with ties to archaeology, or to theology? Whoever it was went pale upon realizing the identity of the sacred relic now ringing, and the name left their mouth.
Highest Grade — One of the Temple's Ten Sacred Relics
Plain to the eye, yet recorded even in the mythic age. To hear its tone is to save even a corrupted soul.
"Maha Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra."
"Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, practicing the profound prajna paramita—"
⟨ Heart Sutra ⟩
And as if to prove the legend true, each time the bell rang, the demonic energy that had been gnawing into the marrow vanished. The moment that mysterious prayer joined the tone, the resonance of the Star Song grew ever more reverent, and hearts settled into calm.
The more the bell and the prayer spread, the more the demon, by contrast, shuddered in agony. She let out a horrific scream as if the sound itself were horrific, and spat curses through it. Even so, that dreadful cry was no longer a torment. The voice was still terrible, without question, and yet the bell and the prayer left them wholly unshaken.
And then—
Ding.
"Here. Keep this safe."
"Wh-whuh..."
Lee Han broke off the prayer and stopped striking the bell, setting it down on the ground, and still the bell did not stop singing. Legend held that so long as the ringer did not lose consciousness, it would sing without end. This was nothing less than history proving that legend before their eyes.
But Lee Han did not know what the bell was. He had only been told its use and how to use it. Its history and its worth did not interest him in the slightest. Even if he had known the historical value of the Star Song, his attitude most likely would not have changed.
Because—
"...Just hold out until I've caught that thing."
Ding.
If it meant he could catch that filthy evil spirit, then an ancient relic, or anything else, was his to spend.
Lee Han drew a long cloth from his breast and began wrapping it around his fists, tight as a boxer's hand wraps. It was no ordinary cotton. A faint light clung to the cloth as if to prove as much, and the thing looked, somehow, like a preparation laid out for this very moment.
Flash!
A soft white radiance gathered in his clenched fists, like a light to break the dark, and Lee Han kicked off high into the air—
Boom!
"Now this is a real punch...!"
He closed to point-blank range in a single breath and drove one fist home. Thwack! Clean enough that even those watching felt the satisfaction of it.
Crash!
"Aaaagh...!!"
With a scream of pain, the high demon plummeted to the ground. She had already been suffering under the bell, and a blow that seemed to punch straight through her torso brought that dreadful bulk crashing down.
But those who saw it—
"No! A demon is not something you simply hit!"
Veteran knights, thick with experience fighting demons, went white with horror. The knight's punch was worthy of admiration, but of all opponents, a demon! It was no exaggeration to say her whole body was made of virulent poison, and to touch that thing with bare hands was absolutely forbidden. At the very least, one had to strike with a sword or spear soaked in holy water for a hundred days or more. Otherwise the hand would rot in an instant—
"...He's perfectly fine?"
"Why...?"
"??"
The hand of the knight who had brought the demon down was not merely unharmed. It held a soft white glow, as if flaunting that it was perfectly all right.
"Th-that is a sacred relic too."
"What kind of..."
Seeing that he had wrapped his fists in a sacred relic—or in sacred cotton close enough to pass for one—the old knights were struck dumb. They had never even heard of plain cotton that stayed intact after striking not some lesser demon, but a high one. Had a saint, or a Saint, blessed the cloth?
Yet what seized the eye more than the marvel of that cotton was the exhilarating sight of him pounding the high demon as if making sport of her.
Boom!
"Aaaagh! S-stop!!"
It was a wretched scream. The scene might have been mistaken for the endless torment of someone infinitely weak, but that was a misunderstanding.
A being that belonged to evil. Among such things, an existence called a high demon, by merely existing, stole the life from every living creature within dozens of kilometers and withered them dry. To meet its eyes, or merely to hear its voice, was enough to drive a person mad, and it was only natural for a human to die where they stood beneath irresistible hallucination and incurable disease. Its existence itself was horrific.
Only, now—
"The Star Song has blocked every last mystery the demon possesses."
"Even the advantages of the body she still had are useless at this moment."
"Nothing short of a natural enemy."
The highest-grade sacred relic, the Star Song, sang in real time and purified the wicked demon's mystery, while the sacred cotton around his hands thoroughly dismantled every advantage of her flesh. A complete counter. His rampage was nothing other than the stride of a man who had been waiting for this very hour, and it was no exaggeration to say that so effortless a hunt of a demon was the first they had ever seen.
And at that—
"N-no!!"
Flash!
Ninshubur burst in at blinding speed to save his master.
Why would my god choose a form like that!
That shape was, quite literally, the complete descent of a soul. To be struck while wearing it was no different from loosing an arrow at a soldier who had not a scrap of defense on him. In other words, she might truly be extinguished. Of course, under any ordinary circumstance, it was only natural that no being existed who could harm that form. But this hero, of all people, had prepared every means of nullifying a god's power, and he was striking the god with them. If this went on, it would not be long before—
That cannot be!
Unwilling to lose his master, Ninshubur showed a tremendous force of will. It was a spirit that meant to break through no matter who stood before him. And yet—
Boom!!!
"That will not do."
"Your speed is astonishing, but I've grown sick of it."
"Y-you wretches!!"
There are opponents one cannot break with spirit alone. Ninshubur charged with a howl, and the two knights did nothing but shut him down completely. The exorcism had to be carried out.
Boom—!
Bang! He hit her. Craaash! He hit her, and hit her, and poured his fists in without end. Creak! Loading the strength of his whole body into a single blow, he clenched his fist hard once more. Crack! All of it to bring this endlessly sickening fight with the evil spirit to an end.
"Aaaaagh!"
As expected, the evil spirit's body was filthily tough. He was throwing punches with all his heart and all his strength, and still she did nothing but scream in pain and endure.
Disgusting little bastard!
In a flash she had read his thoughts and shouted. There was even a note of grievance in the voice, and as if to prove it was no illusion—
It seemed a cry mixed with curiosity as much as with resentment. He—the man called Lee Han—truly had nothing to do with this land. He was no one tied to Wales, nor anyone who owed a debt to Mordred. He had simply stayed for less than a month and formed a very short bond. And people are not creatures who, on the strength of less than a month, grow fond of a land or cling to it, treasuring it like a hometown. If anything, they would sooner have called it a light acquaintance.
...And yet Lee Han was looking at Inanna as if she were a mortal enemy, holding a hard resolve to erase her no matter what.
Reading that surface of his mind, Inanna had every reason to feel wronged. What bitter grudge could he possibly bear, to drive her this hard? And to that violent reaction, he—
"...What are you even babbling about!"
Thud!!
His fist was the only answer he gave.
"Gyaaah!"
Crackle—.
"I know I'm making a shameless request."
"??"
Boom!
Crackle—.
"Even so... you are the only one I can ask."
"...Honored Maid, please stand. Why go so far as to kneel!"
"I'm sorry. For laying such a burden on you...."
Crackle...!
"...You? You...!?"
In that instant, Inanna screamed. Each time she took a blow from the man—from Lee Han—she read his subconscious as if it were a vision, and she could not restrain her shock, like someone who had witnessed the impossible. She had realized, in this very moment, why the human was attacking her so relentlessly, and the realization drove her into a frenzy.
Inanna's eyes flew wide and her wings beat, and a mass of dreadful demonic energy shot forth.
"—It wasn't some petty kneeling."
Fwoosh!
...And all too vainly, the mass of demonic energy Inanna had fired was shattered on the spot. All that remained was a single wing torn away.
"Aaaaaagh!"
Inanna screamed without end, but Lee Han shone with a gaze more murderous than ever and spoke, each word distinct.
Whooosh!
Flower petals scattered around Lee Han's body.