Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Episode 2
The warhorses ridden by the Church's knights were slightly different from ordinary steeds.
They were a specially bred lineage—superior southern-bred coursers further refined by the Church to enhance their physique, strength, and speed to extraordinary levels.
The moment Aiden left the village outskirts, he urged his horse Petra into a full gallop.
The thunderous noise was impossible to ignore.
He considered the possibility that the demon might flee upon hearing the hoofbeats, but it didn't matter.
This area was a vast open plain.
No matter where it hid, it would remain within Aiden's sight.
In fact, he hoped the creature would bolt out of the winery.
Fighting inside a cramped, dark building would only damage the interior—a severe blow to Tedrang Village, where winemaking was their livelihood.
Just as expected.
As he neared the winery, the sound of shattering glass erupted, and fragments rained onto the ground.
A black silhouette burst through the broken window and shot across the plains like an arrow.
Aiden dismounted with a cruel smirk.
He drew his lance, coating its blade with holy energy.
Planting his feet firmly, he twisted his torso halfway.
"You damn cockroach—!"
With a thunderous roar, a blinding white flash tore through the darkness.
The lance struck true, embedding itself deep into the demon's back. Confirming the hit, Aiden gave Petra's flank a firm pat.
"Run at full speed."
Instead of remounting, Aiden positioned himself at the winery's main entrance.
Only after Petra vanished into the distance—toward where the shadow had fallen—did the door creak open.
The figure that emerged was a handsome man dressed in an elegant tunic and coat.
He looked every bit a high-ranking noble.
"Didn't expect the demon to have brains enough to scheme."
At the sound of Aiden's voice, the incubus' face twisted in shock.
"Too bad. You're caught."
The fleeing shadow had been nothing more than a decoy.
With Aiden's sensitivity to demonic energy and sharp vision, distinguishing the trick was child's play.
As Aiden drew his sword and strode forward, the demon smoothed his expression into a sneer.
"My, my. I suppose your brain is just more muscle."
"If it were, I'd have demolished the entire building with you inside."
"Hah! Quite the bravado."
The demon's gaze swept over Aiden, sizing him up.
"Judging by your gear, you're not a paladin. A demon hunter, perhaps?"
That single question confirmed Aiden's suspicion—Sebas was a low-tier demon, utterly insignificant.
Demon hunters couldn't wield holy energy.
Yet traces of it still lingered around Aiden, meaning this creature couldn't even sense something so basic.
"Completely irrelevant to the main scenario."
Disappointment flickered across Aiden's face as he trudged toward the demon.
"Not worth talking to."
When Aiden sheathed his sword, the incubus smirked.
"Surrendering so soon? Pity. I kill anything that isn't a woman on sight—"
Before the demon could finish, Aiden's fist crashed into his face.
The leather gauntlet tore through skin and shattered his nose.
Black blood gushed as the demon roared like a beast, his eyes burning crimson while dark demonic energy flooded the surroundings.
"Y-You dare lay hands on my face?!"
Simultaneously, Aiden unleashed a burst of holy energy.
A radiant halo blazed behind him, its blinding light scattering the darkness.
Only then did the demon realize—he was facing a paladin. An unofficial one, but a paladin nonetheless.
"A hound of the Church—"
Aiden gave him no time to think.
His steel-like shin smashed into the demon's thigh, sending him crashing to the ground.
Blinded and overwhelmed, the incubus writhed in helplessness.
"Filthy demon bastard."
Aiden seized his hair, yanking his head up before kicking his face like a soccer ball.
The sound of shattering bone echoed as the demon's head snapped backward.
His torso bent at an unnatural angle—enough to snap a human spine—but demons were far more resilient.
Moments later, the creature twitched, his bones cracking as they realigned. Aiden frowned.
"Persistent little thing."
Broken teeth spilled from the demon's mouth. Black blood pooled beneath him, his eyes blazing with hatred.
Aiden had held back, not intending to kill him immediately, but the demon's regeneration was faster than expected.
"You damned hunting dog! I'll rip your guts out alive!"
The demon lunged, claws extended.
Though swift as a beast, Aiden sidestepped effortlessly and seized his throat.
Lifting him one-handed, Aiden tore out both his shoulder blades to disable his slashing attacks.
SCREEEEE—!
The scream was so grating and revolting it nearly induced vomiting.
Thanks to his "Demon-Slaying Ascetic" trait, Aiden burned with the urge to crush the demon's skull right then.
But the Church had ordered Sebas delivered alive to Count Trapel.
That was the only reason he still breathed.
Grimacing, Aiden tightened his grip. Sebas convulsed, his eyes now filled with terror—uncharacteristic for a demon.
No trace of hostility or hatred remained.
With a click of his tongue, Aiden slammed him face-first into the ground.
Rolling the demon onto his stomach, he drew a dagger and severed both Achilles tendons—escape-proof.
The holy-infused blade would negate any regeneration.
Then, whistling sharply, he summoned Petra, who galloped over with the lance still clamped in her teeth.
Aiden fastened the chain from the saddle around the demon's neck.
"How many people did you kill? Now the tables have turned. How does it feel?"
The incubus' eyes trembled with dread.
"What are you—"
Aiden mounted without another word.
As Petra moved forward, the chain rattled loose. Then, with a fierce kick, Aiden urged her into a gallop.
To the incubus, the paladin seemed more demonic than he was.
***
The villagers hurled curses at the demon dragged behind the horse.
Those who had lost family members grew more aggressive—throwing stones or swinging clubs—but Aiden didn't intervene.
As long as the demon stayed alive, he saw no harm in letting them vent.
Just as he prepared to leave the village, the elder approached.
"How can we ever repay this kindness? On behalf of the village, I thank you once more."
The hunched old man bowed deeply, looking smaller and frailer than ever.
A stark glimpse of the rigid class hierarchy—excessive deference from a white-haired elder to a freshly knighted youth.
From a modern perspective, it was jarring.
Though Aiden had struggled to adapt to these values, he'd gradually assimilated.
The elder fumbled in his robes and produced a worn cloth bundle.
"Even we beasts know gratitude. Please accept this humble offering."
No doubt scraped together coin by coin from every household.
Dismounting, Aiden politely declined.
"The Church does not accept payment from commoners."
It sounded noble, but the truth was far uglier.
The Church extorted vast tithes from nobles, who in turn squeezed the commoners dry to compensate.
A hollow, vicious cycle.
Knowing this better than anyone, Aiden felt a pang of disgust at his own hypocrisy—playing the part for stat gains.
"Still—"
"Use that money to comfort those who lost family instead. The gods would will it."
A chorus of gratitude rose from the gathered villagers. Some even wiped away tears.
The emotional display left Aiden uneasy, eager to depart.
Then, a boy sprinted toward him.
"Ret! What are you doing?!"
His father shouted in alarm, but the child paid no heed.
Eyes brimming with reverence, the boy stared up at Aiden.
"Thank you for saving my sister."
The elder fretted, watching Aiden nervously.
"This is the younger brother of the girl you rescued. Forgive his lack of manners—he's still young."
"It's fine."
Aiden smiled faintly.
"Can I become a knight like you someday?"
In a world where birth dictated fate, paladins were the exception.
Even the lowborn could rise if they possessed exceptional talent.
Aiden crouched to eye level and ruffled the boy's hair.
"You wish to serve the gods?"
"I don't know about that... But I want to be strong like you—to help people in need."
Despite his harsh surroundings, the boy's innocence remained untainted.
It was impossible not to smile.
Aiden retrieved the Varantes Church's seal and handed it to him.
The moment it touched the boy's palm, the engraved emblem vanished.
"If your resolve is firm, the gods will answer. When the sun appears on this seal, come to the Church."
With those final words, Aiden remounted.
The boy watched his retreating figure until it disappeared, a dream now rooted in his heart.
***
After reviewing his stat gains, Aiden urged Petra onward.
Fortunately, the road to Count Trapel's estate wasn't flooded, leaving no obstacles—much to the chained demon's misfortune.
Meanwhile, someone searching for Aiden benefited greatly.
The demon's ceaseless screams made him easier to locate than expected.
Heretic Inquisitor Zeras—Aiden's mentor since his monastery days.
Aiden spotted him too, a distant figure approaching from the horizon.
Turning Petra toward him, he closed the distance swiftly.
Zeras's silver uniform and snow-white cloak gleamed under the sunlight—the signature attire of an Inquisitor.
"Before our joyous reunion—quick question. Which one of you is the demon?"
His playful gaze flicked between Aiden and the battered creature.
"...Long time no see, Master."
"Still so stiff. Seems your memories haven't returned."
Aiden had no recollection of his monastery years—unsurprising, since he'd possessed this body right after graduation.
He only knew what he'd written in his character's backstory.
"Not yet."
"Guess a tearful embrace is too much to ask. Shame—I'm quite hurt."
Though Zeras acted friendly, Aiden remained wary.
The Heretic Inquisitor he remembered was practically a fanatic.
"What brings you here?"
"Hah! What brings me? Escorting my disciple's final trial is tradition, isn't it?"
Aiden wasn't sure if that was true—game lore didn't cover every detail—but he nodded anyway.
Completing this escort mission would officially make him a paladin.
His last trial.
"By the way, color me impressed. Breaking through the trials in just two years? That's a new record. Oh, and only one of your classmates survived. Tragic, really."
"Those who devoted themselves to the gods surely found peace."
Zeras chuckled cryptically, studying Aiden.
"Speaking of which—any villagers ensnared by the demon?"
Zeras burned people without hesitation. Even nobles, insisting they needed "purification."
Aiden's expression hardened.
"Handled."
"Really?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"Well, you've always been thorough. No need for me to step in."
Aiden had no desire to continue the conversation.
Perhaps sensing this, Zeras urged his horse forward gently.
"Uncomfortable."
The trait of a Narrow-Eyed Fox—always unsettling.
"Let's move. The bishop has arrived at the estate, and your ceremonial armor turned out splendidly. Gleaming platinum—quite the sight."
Side by side, they rode on.
Two years into this game world, Aiden was finally fastening the first button of his destiny.