Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Episode 13.
Yuron scratched the back of his head awkwardly with an embarrassed laugh.
"Haha, right. Not just anyone can be a hero. Maybe Sir Aiden could, but..."
When Sain firmly denied that Yuron could ever be a hero, she seemed to feel a bit guilty and waved her hands dismissively.
"No, no. If you work hard, Oppa, you could definitely earn a line in the holy scriptures. It's just... Elohimderk is an artifact that responds to divine power... and well, you can't wield divine power... Eep, I'm sorry. Did that upset you?"
"Hey, I'm not that petty, alright? More importantly, you said it reacts to divine power. That answers our question."
Yuron suddenly turned his head. Sain followed his gaze, scanning their surroundings, but there was no sign of anyone nearby.
Only the necklace illuminating the outdoor garden was gradually losing its glow.
Elohimderk.
An ancient artifact classified as a "pathway to the gods."
Elohimderk guides its wielder to the ruins where divine relics slumber.
In the game, it could only be obtained after clearing the ten trials bestowed by the Pope—and just moments ago, it had been right before their eyes.
Aiden had planned to obtain it. He had even mapped out his strategy.
The Pope's trials were infamous for their brutal difficulty, but the artifact was worth it.
He had intended to challenge them much later, once he had grown stronger—but now, he wondered if that might not be necessary.
He had a rough idea of how things had played out.
In the original story, the Church had used the siblings and discarded them, absorbing the artifact in the process. It must have ended up in the Pope's hands.
Aiden was seized by an odd feeling. Whatever had brought him this luck wasn't a swallow.
The half-demons he loathed so viscerally—his hatred for them defied reason or logic. It was pure instinct.
Just as humans despised vermin, Aiden abhorred demons.
He sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled deeply.
Should he just take Sain's necklace by force? No. That might render Elohimderk unresponsive. If the in-game condition was clearing the Pope's trials, then in reality, another qualification was likely required.
Fundamentally, the owner's acknowledgment was necessary. Sain acknowledging Aiden as—
His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a knock.
"Sir Paladin, it's Sain. May I come in for a moment?"
Aiden took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their limit. He could probably hold out for an hour or so.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Sain hesitated before speaking.
"I'm sorry for bothering you so late. But... there's something I must tell you..."
"Understood. Come in and speak."
With each step Sain took, the room grew slightly brighter.
The radiance spilling from her chest left Aiden deeply conflicted.
Had it been anyone else standing there, he might have welcomed them with a joyful smile.
But Sain's expression was shifting into one of conviction.
She reached behind her neck and unhooked the necklace.
"I want to give this to you, Sir Paladin. Please accept it."
For a moment, Aiden was stunned. This easily? All his earlier deliberations now felt foolish.
He gazed briefly at the sapphire glow emanating from the jewel.
Sain smiled brightly as she held it out.
"My teacher once told me—when the great hero who would rewrite the scriptures appears by my side, the gemstone would respond. During the day, it was too bright to notice, but now... see how it shines? Please take it. It will guide you to the ruins where the holy relics sleep."
Aiden had never encountered goodwill without ulterior motives. In this world, least of all.
"You're just giving this to me?"
Sain hesitated slightly before answering.
"...Actually, my teacher said the great hero would appear and free Oppa and me from our cursed fate. But Oppa says there's no such thing. That freedom gained through begging is just an illusion. He's a fool, and my teacher was right about most things... but this time, I think Oppa might be correct."
It seemed Kardak had taught Sain how to use the hero. That was likely the trial Sain, as Elohimderk's owner, was meant to impose—liberation from the shackles of the Church.
Yet Sain and Deril had kicked that opportunity away with their own feet.
Had they made liberation their condition, Aiden might have agreed.
A sudden doubt crossed his mind—would Sain have spoken so openly if she had known he was aware of her mixed blood?
"Sain, do you know why the Church placed those shackles on you and your brother?"
Sain nodded slowly.
"Our parents committed a grave blasphemy against the gods, and we must atone for it. The priests told us that one day, the gods would forgive us."
Aiden felt a pang of pity. The gods and the Church would never forgive them.
"That's no path to salvation."
"Huh? But..."
Aiden looked down at Elohimderk in his hands.
"Still, if there's a debt, it will be repaid. Now leave."
As the pale blue light of dawn crept over the horizon, the special task force left the inn and headed for the northern city gate.
The northern gate, closest to the uncharted territories, was primarily used by adventurers.
Fortunately, the line wasn't long—but the expressions of those ahead were twisted with frustration.
A few who had failed to pass spat on the ground as they brushed past Aiden.
"Damn bastards, who the hell do they think they are, controlling us like this? What, is that desert part of Serengal's domain now? Screw this."
"Monster hunting, my ass. Just a fever dream. Hope they all drop dead."
"Keep your voices down. You want your tongues cut out? Tch."
Deril, wearing a mask despite the heat, glanced at Aiden before speaking up.
"Hey, you folks! What's got everyone so riled up? Looks like the soldiers gave you trouble, huh?"
One of the men approached, shaking his head as if disgusted.
"Don't even ask. The lord's blocked off the entire upper region just to hunt one Death Worm. Our contracts are about to expire, and we can't even get out. Ridiculous."
It seemed the local lord had developed a taste for monster hunting—he must have mobilized his entire force for the chase.
"If your team doesn't have at least a gold-rank adventurer, you're wasting your time. Better turn back."
With that, he grumbled his way back to his companions.
Aiden found these trivial inconveniences—common whenever he couldn't reveal his identity—deeply irritating.
As he searched for an excuse, their turn arrived. It seemed everyone ahead had failed to pass.
"Next."
A soldier scanned them with a businesslike expression.
"Purpose?"
Deril stepped forward and lowered his mask slightly. The soldier's stiff face softened a fraction.
"Well, if it isn't Deril?"
The two exchanged words for a while before the soldier finally sighed deeply.
A moment later, the gate groaned as it rose.
"Be careful. If the lord finds out, neither of us will hear the end of it."
"Don't worry. Who do you think I am?"
"Right. The man who boils demons alive—what's a mere human to you?"
"Haha... Well, there are some scary humans."
Deril glanced briefly at Aiden before looking away.
The task force mounted their camels and passed through the gate without delay.
The desert at dawn was chilly—far preferable to the heat, so the group's expressions eased somewhat.
They reviewed their plans, exchanged occasional banter, and headed toward the ancient tomb.
Yuron had struggled upon learning the siblings were half-demons. It was inevitable—the Church was an organization dedicated to eradicating demons, and Yuron had been raised under its teachings.
Deril rarely spoke unless necessary.
And soon, everyone fell silent.
The desert's extreme temperature swings meant that as the sun climbed, scorching heat poured down, sapping any desire for conversation.
Sistina approached Aiden and handed him a leather canteen.
"Sir Aiden, we're nearing the translocation point."
They couldn't just waltz into the grand tomb's entrance—their first destination was a prearranged translocation circle set up by holy mages.
"How much farther?"
"Just past that dune."
Yuron and Deril dismantled a small sand mound, revealing the hidden circle beneath.
Everyone dismounted and gathered around its edge.
"Final briefing. The rally point is the altar at the rear of the third underground level."
No one knew exactly where underground they'd end up—they'd likely be scattered.
Yuron pulled black priest robes from his pack and distributed them—their disguise as demon cultists.
Once changed, Aiden scanned the team.
"May the gods be with you all. Stay safe."
He nodded to Sain.
"Everyone, hold up your scrolls."
As Sain chanted the incantation, the circle flared to life.
"Now, tear them."
A year's budget for a small town vanished in an instant.
Their figures disappeared without a trace.
Aiden found himself in the tomb's second underground level—a corridor lined with ancient warriors frozen in formation.
Their stony stillness was eerie.
Not a bad location.
His concern lay with the others. If Sain or Father Vandel had been transported far away, things could get complicated. But that was a matter of luck.
Aiden moved toward the sound of unsettling chanting.
The grotesque, screeching tones echoing along the walls made his stomach churn. These were not the voices of sane men.
The sounds grew closer. Occasional screams quickened Aiden's pulse.
Just as the corridor's exit came into view, he sensed movement ahead.
The passage offered no cover large enough to hide his frame.
Pulling his hood low, Aiden walked straight toward the approaching footsteps.
A demon cultist in black robes came face-to-face with him.
"Don't recognize you. New meat?"
"Fresh recruit."
"Oh, yeah?"
The man clomped closer.
"Hey, kid, why so stiff? Relax. Relax."
He circled Aiden, poking at his body.
"You sure you're a priest? You're built like a brick."
"From the Benzegma faction..."
"Ah, figures. Those beast handlers are always tough. Hey, you know Shurein? That bastard was my initiation buddy—built like you, I bet?"
"...Yes."
"Ah, wait. Was his name really Shurein...? Been so long, I barely remember."
Aiden's patience was wearing thin.
"Ah, whatever. Doesn't matter."
The man made a lewd gesture.
"You know those brats gathered as offerings for Martikoras? Bet you haven't tasted one yet, rookie? Follow me, kid—their whimpering's a real treat. I'll give you a good time."
He beckoned.
"Hurry up, damn—"
Aiden's hand shot into the man's mouth like a spear.
He wrenched the jawbone loose, forcing the mouth wide open.
Then he seized the tongue. The man, unable to scream, stared in dazed horror.
"Ghk—hhuuuh—!"
"Go on. Whimper for me."
Aiden's voice was icy.
"I said try."
"Ghk—uuuh—!"
As Aiden tightened his grip, the man let out a choked whine.
"Filthy bastard."
With a sharp pull, he ripped out the tongue and wrapped it around the man's neck.
A human tongue was far longer than it looked—even after one full loop, a hand's length remained.
The man collapsed without a final sound.
Aiden hid the body behind a statue and moved on.