Chapter 46
Chapter 46
Episode 46.
The holy knights couldn't abandon Aiden.
Under normal circumstances, the right course of action would have been to cut their losses and return to the Order to report. It was common sense—but that didn't apply to Aiden.
Leaving the hero of the scriptures to die?
Submitting such a report would mean facing not just disciplinary action, but execution.
Their own convictions also screamed at them to die here if they must.
They left traces throughout the forest—clues for future investigation teams to track the nine-tailed fox.
Siron, charging forward, had already resigned herself to death. She lowered her stance, arms stretched back as she gripped her halberd.
The blade scraped against the ground with a grating screech.
Her eyes burned with madness. Since things had come to this, she moved with the single-minded determination to crush the fox's skull.
At the edge of the slope, she kicked off the ground. Soaring into the air, she raised the halberd high above her head.
The weight of the axe-head lent momentum as she drove downward with full force.
"You bitch!"
The fox drew closer. The moment it entered her range, she swung with all her might.
Aiden moved. Drawing his holy sword, he raised it horizontally. CLANG! The halberd collided with the blade, unleashing a deafening metallic roar.
Siron's face twisted in shock. Why was Aiden protecting the nine-tailed fox?
It was a misunderstanding. Aiden was protecting her.
A delayed shockwave rippled through the ground.
Aiden swung his sword in a wide arc, still locked with the halberd, and flung Siron backward.
She skidded several meters before landing in a shallow stream.
Her bewilderment was plain.
"Siron, have you forgotten your orders?"
"N-no, why—"
Before she could finish, Aiden barked at Jude.
"Cancel it. Now."
Jude was equally lost.
The scriptures defined the Ain as vermin—so why was the hero shielding a beast? It made no sense.
As he hesitated, the nine-tailed fox let out a deep sigh.
"We'll finish our talk with the female later."
Her gaze locked onto Jude. Leaving behind a silver afterimage, she vanished—only to reappear atop a boulder in the next instant. She seized Jude by the mouth and hoisted him up.
The equations he had been weaving dissipated into nothing.
Her blue eyes bored into him.
"Filth, I'll spare you—disgusting as it feels. I made a promise. But don't push your luck. Understood?"
With that, she hurled him down into the ravine. Then, turning, she leapt from the rock.
The fox swiftly approached, wagging her tail gently. Eyes gleaming, she looked at Aiden as if expecting something.
"I've learned patience—and the importance of promises. See? Proof I'm growing up."
Aiden didn't answer. That the beast had shown mercy was unexpected, but it didn't erase his fundamental revulsion.
The fox smirked and took a step closer.
"I did well, didn't I? Pet me."
Aiden grimaced and pushed her away. Sheathing his sword, he immediately rushed to Jude.
"Are you hurt?"
Groaning as he pulled himself up, Jude couldn't hide his confusion.
"Sir Aiden, what in the world... How am I supposed to process this?"
"She was an enslaved Ain I once commanded."
Jude's face twisted further in disbelief. Siron, who had caught up, was no different. Neither could make sense of Aiden's words.
Siron shot a glance at the fox before quickly looking away and speaking up.
"Sir Aiden, frankly, I can't comprehend this at all."
Aiden nodded.
"I understand. I'll explain later—for now, stand by."
As he turned to approach the fox, Jude stopped him.
"W-where are you going? You can't."
"He's right. We should leave now."
Siron subtly gestured toward the fox, who was preoccupied with admiring herself in a hand mirror.
Aiden shook his head.
"If we do, we all die."
Truthfully, there was a problem to resolve.
"If you must, wait here and keep watch. Disobey even this, and I won't let it slide."
They had already defied orders once. Regardless of the reason, that alone warranted execution—during a mission, a superior's command was absolute.
Of course, Aiden knew they had come prepared to die. He had no intention of punishing them. This was merely a warning for the future.
Turning away, he added:
"I can handle this."
His tone left no room for argument. All they could do was watch his retreating back with uneasy eyes.
Aiden approached the fox slowly and gestured.
"Follow me."
She tucked the mirror into her robes and beamed.
"Sure, anywhere."
To avoid eavesdropping, he led her a considerable distance from the knights.
They stopped near the rushing rapids. Aiden turned, locking eyes with her.
"Saya, don't even think about pulling anything."
He had to protect Yuriel. And he couldn't let the fox die either. If the fox targeted the saintess, the paladins would mobilize.
Losing both Yuriel and Saya would be the worst outcome.
The fox grinned, pleased.
"Finally calling me by name?"
"Enough of your dog-like antics."
He was sick of creating more sacrifices.
Saya stared at him intently. Her smile faded, expression sobering. She asked seriously:
"Is she precious to you?"
"She's necessary."
"The usual vague kind of answer?"
Aiden nodded.
"Who is she?"
"How can I trust you?"
The fox fell silent, deep in thought. After a moment, her face cooled as she shook her head.
"Sorry, no matter how I think about it, it's a no. I don't want to share the same ground as the woman who kissed you. She dies."
Aiden gritted his teeth.
"Don't piss me off. I breathed life into her lungs to save her."
"I believe you, but still—no. To tolerate the stench coming from your mouth, at the very least, the source has to disappear."
Aiden's eyes flickered with frustration and anger before settling. Slowly, he reached out, his hand moving toward the back of Saya's head.
As if to caress—then suddenly, he seized her silver hair in a tight grip. Her eyes widened in genuine shock.
Using his broad frame to shield her from the knights' view, he covered her red lips with his own.
Saya's blue pupils dilated. Then, trembling violently, they fluttered shut. Aiden's hand, tangled in her hair, shook.
She parted her lips—but before her tongue could entwine with his, Aiden pulled away.
"Now you smell like me. Don't kill her."
Saya slowly opened her eyes. A blush spread across her pale skin as she gazed at him.
"She's a woman who holds my life in her hands. Remember that."
With those final words, Aiden turned away. His head spun—he needed to leave this place immediately.
Leaving Saya frozen in place, he strode back toward the knights.
They rode at full speed, desperate to leave the forest behind.
Twilight faded, the moon rose. Dawn broke, the sun climbed to its zenith. By the time dusk fell again, they were still riding.
As darkness crept in, the exit of the accursed forest finally came into view.
They hadn't encountered a single giant.
The rumors of the nearby brood withering seemed true. The culprit was likely Saya. The battle-hungry giants must have been unable to resist the temptation of the nine-tailed fox.
But Aiden doubted whether it could even be called a battle. It was probably a one-sided slaughter.
Jude called out from behind:
"Sir Aiden! The horses can't take much more!"
Petra, too, seemed at her limit.
"Slow down."
Aiden gradually reduced their pace. The gaps between trees widened endlessly, and the once-lush earth gave way to sparse, dusty trails.
The life of the forest waned here. As they trotted forward, the terrain became something no longer recognizable as woodland.
The towering ancient trees, once reaching for the heavens, now stood withered and twisted, on the verge of collapse. The barren land rivaled the Empire's eastern wastelands.
But there was one difference from Count Karshua's territory—the presence of demonic energy. Here, a purple haze hung like fog, thick with oppressive gloom.
The desolate, rust-red plains held nothing.
Jude scanned the surroundings, his face twisting in disgust.
"They call this the Land of Screams."
Aiden moved forward slowly. No trace of life could be seen.
Yet people lived here—the dregs of the Duchy. They were the pillars supporting the demon-worshipping nation.
Aiden walked across the harsh land. Before long, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the full moon illuminated the night sky.
He stopped before a grotesquely twisted, withered pine.
"From here, we proceed on foot."
Dismounting, Aiden tied the reins to the trunk.
The Order would send a separate team to retrieve the warhorses.
The knights dismounted as well.
They removed all their gear, stashing it beneath the tree before covering it with reddish-brown dust, hiding it perfectly.
From the saddlebags, they pulled out ragged cloth scraps and changed. As Gotthard unwound his bandages, the horrific burns covering his body were revealed.
His hair was gone, most of his facial features melted away.
There was clearly a story there.
Jude, uncharacteristically muscular for a mage, and Siron, whose chest was unexpectedly ample, followed suit.
Aiden surveyed them before speaking.
"Focus only on the mission from now on. Forget the fox for now."
They couldn't afford mistakes born of distraction. The warning was as much for himself as for them.
The three nodded.
"We'll hear the explanation later."
Aiden resumed walking, the knights trailing behind.
After a long trek on foot, crude shacks came into view, scattered across the rust-red earth.
They looked ready to collapse at the slightest touch.
Beyond them, a city shone brilliantly even in the dead of night.
A man-made island of civilization—built upon the screams of the dregs, the pinnacle of demonic engineering.
The residents of the Land of Screams existed solely as offerings for that sleepless city.
And it wasn't just metaphorical.
The Archdemon, Gusian.
The one worshipped by the Ducal family was the source of the demonic principle governing despair.
Gusian demanded the screams of humans from his followers. In return, he granted demonic achievements.
The dregs bore the brunt of those sacrifices.
Aiden watched them from afar.
Those with blackened, deadened eyes beneath carried rocks—moving them a few paces before setting them down, only to pick them up again and return them to their original spot.
The cycle repeated endlessly.
An old man with a bent spine wailed, yet his labor continued. The demonic energy branded into his soul denied him rest.
A small child wept over the corpse of his mother, her back broken. The boy's head turned to follow the body—his legs moving on their own, leaving him no choice.
Countless others screamed. The more they wailed, the brighter the city shone.
Jude swallowed hard. Siron gritted her teeth. But they couldn't afford sympathy for heretics.
"This is hell."
"The price of worshipping false beings."
"I suppose so."
Aiden wanted to ask if they truly believed that. To him, they looked like nothing but victims.
Then, someone shrieked, clutching their head.
Amidst the sea of wailing residents, this lone figure stood out precisely because they acted differently.
They seemed to be resisting the demonic energy. Soon, they broke into a run.
Such individuals occasionally appeared—and for the Duchy, even that was welcome.
The dregs were bound by a barrier preventing them from straying beyond a set radius. The moment they realized this, their despair became nourishment for the Duchy.
The woman sprinted madly toward Aiden's group.
Her face tinged blue, saturated with demonic energy, she ran blindly—
—and collided with Aiden.
He caught her as she stumbled, but she dropped the infant in her arms. Aiden's free hand snatched the child from the air.
The woman scrambled on her knees, frantically clawing at the ground.
"M-my baby. Where's my baby? Where—where—"
The demonic energy had blackened her eyes.
Jude and Siron's expressions wavered.
Aiden crouched to her eye level and handed the child back.
The woman pressed her forehead to the dirt, begging.
"I-I'm sorry. I'll die. I wasn't running. I—I took the wrong path. I couldn't see. Please, just spare my baby. Please, I beg you."
Aiden knelt, lifting her upper body. Even then, she pleaded.
"Don't be afraid. I won't harm you."
Yupe peeked out from his robes, opening her mouth wide to absorb the demonic energy.
The woman's purple-tinged skin regained its natural hue. The black film over her eyes slowly peeled away.
Jude, who had been silently watching, drew a holy sigil.
"By Bacheksalsi's grace... What should we do?"
Siron had no answer either.