Chapter 55
Chapter 55
Episode 55.
Aiden landed in the northeastern part of the Empire and passed through the Gray Barrier encircling the eastern region.
Though technically still part of Marquis Karshua's domain, this area was far removed from the Iron Fortress.
Consequently, traversing the Giants' Forest proved quite troublesome.
Beyond the 'Gadora' tribe slaughtered by Saya, the entire eastern woodlands were inhabited by giants.
Only after numerous bloody battles against warriors charging mindlessly did Aiden finally set foot on Imperial soil.
A single carriage raced across the barren plains where yellow earth mixed with snow, giving the landscape a somewhat grimy appearance.
No guillotine insignia was visible.
This was a carriage provided as a courtesy by Baron Zahil's household, a vassal family under Karshua.
Inside, Aiden leaned back with closed eyes.
Many thoughts swirled in his mind. His cascading worries stemmed from his own weakness.
Gusian had been overwhelmingly powerful—beyond any hope of resistance—and even the giants were no pushovers.
While the nine-tailed fox, barely over a year old, had reached the level where she could single-handedly slaughter an entire tribe, Aiden couldn't even come close to matching half her progress.
Of course, Saya was in a league of her own. As a being revered by the canine kin, her innate nature placed her beyond comparison.
But Aiden, who knew the future, couldn't make excuses. He needed to grow far stronger than he was now to prepare for what lay ahead.
Nearly three years. Though Aiden had grown rapidly, the reality was that he still fell short.
That said, the situation wasn't entirely bleak.
He had accelerated the unfolding events faster than expected, buying himself time to focus on growth. He felt grateful to Zeras.
He couldn't afford to waste this opportunity.
As Aiden pondered the most efficient methods, Siron cautiously spoke up.
"Sir Aiden, am I interrupting?"
Aiden opened his eyes and looked at her.
"Speak if you have something to say."
Siron nodded.
"The Inquisitor mentioned that upon our return, we'd be dispatched to the Benzegma sect. Of course, this mission is for our execution squad—excluding you."
'Benzegma' referred to one of the Demon God Cult's sects, primarily responsible for summoning demonic beasts.
Most of the cultists who had summoned Martikoras previously belonged to Benzegma.
Siron continued.
"But, if you're willing, would you consider joining us? It would make things much smoother. Of course, you're free to refuse—no pressure."
After a brief moment of contemplation, Aiden asked, "Have you located their core?"
The Demon God Cult's sects operated as decentralized cells, making their headquarters difficult to pinpoint. Even Aiden couldn't specify their locations—they changed with each route.
"We extracted it during interrogations. It slipped from the lips of a radical priest."
Aiden mulled over Siron's proposal.
Structurally, Benzegma was a sect where demons inevitably thrived.
If this was their central stronghold, demonic beasts would swarm like insects.
Plenty of fodder to delight a Slayer of Evil. Moreover, annihilating a sect would significantly advance the unfolding events.
Two birds with one stone—a mission that could secure both growth and future prospects.
Aiden spoke. "Location and deployment numbers?"
"Southeastern region. Five hundred execution troops and ten Templars, though adjustments might occur. The general framework should remain similar."
This part gave him pause.
Even monopolizing the experience points might not be enough—there were too many mouths to share with.
Siron noticed Aiden's hesitation and waved her hand with a smile. "You can refuse if you're not keen. We have enough manpower on our side."
Though a good opportunity, it felt slightly lacking. He wanted to maximize efficiency.
After a measured pause, Aiden nodded. "I'll do it."
Siron beamed at the unexpected answer. Before she could respond, Aiden spoke first.
"However, I'll go alone."
She tilted her head in confusion. "W-what do you—?"
Due to their unique nature, Benzegma ranked among the more combat-proficient sects.
Even for Aiden, solo annihilation seemed unreasonable—or so Siron thought, unaware of the Slayer of Evil.
The ultimate authority against demons. If his enemies were overwhelmingly demonic, Aiden would grow in real-time without tiring.
Moreover, after destroying Gusian's heart, all his stats had risen several tiers.
Though the difficulty remained high, it wasn't entirely impossible.
Aiden needed to grow stronger quickly, even if it meant pushing himself.
Siron looked utterly perplexed. Aiden spoke again.
"I said I'm going alone. Don't ask why—just give me the exact location and scale."
His tone left no room for doubt. Jude tried to dissuade him.
"Sir Aiden, it's too dangerous. Among the demonic beasts Benzegma controls are monsters from the Demon Realm. Please reconsider."
Gort and Siron exchanged glances of agreement.
Aiden shook his head. "My decision's made. Report separately to the Order and have my gear sent to the location."
Aiden's holy armor, sword, and Petra had already been retrieved by the Templar intelligence unit.
Even with the Slayer of Evil, going bare-handed wasn't an option—minimal preparation was necessary.
Though their time with Aiden had been brief, the Templars knew better than anyone that once he set his mind to something, no one could stop him.
If Aiden said he'd do it, he'd succeed spectacularly—just as he'd achieved the impossible by assassinating key figures in the Duchy.
They tried one last time to dissuade him, but persuasion proved futile.
Siron, who had remained silent, hardened her expression. Determination shone in her clear eyes as she faced Aiden.
"At least let me come with you."
She had resolved to support this hero, and Aiden had previously permitted it.
There was ample reason not to send him alone.
For Aiden, bringing one person was manageable.
Unforeseen accidents might occur, and Siron was more than capable of covering such variables.
When Aiden readily agreed, Jude and Gort stepped forward.
"We'll need someone to report back. And send Siron's gear along as well."
With that, Aiden closed his eyes, signaling that further objections would be ignored.
The Templars longed to know why he insisted on going alone, but he never revealed his reasons.
Aiden borrowed two horses from a nearby estate and switched mounts.
After sending Jude and Gort back to the Order, he and Siron rode southeast.
Aiden didn't believe in rest.
He pushed the horses to their limits, spending every waking moment on the move.
To Siron, he seemed like a man pursued by something.
Two days had passed since parting with the Templars when they finally neared their destination.
Moonlight bathed the mountains. They set up camp in a narrow clearing surrounded by trees.
The tethered horses snorted roughly, their sides heaving.
Aiden and Siron sat facing each other across a campfire.
Siron studied Aiden. His silhouette flickered slightly through the flames.
"Sir Aiden, may I ask you one thing?"
Aiden nodded.
"It's about the nine-tailed fox."
Though set aside due to the mission, her curiosity was inevitable.
"I'll answer. Ask freely."
Siron tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. "You said you kept her as a slave, but I can't wrap my head around it. Nine-tailed foxes aren't creatures that can be tamed. In fact, 'creature' doesn't even suit them—they're beings worshipped by canines. Of course, we'd never acknowledge that, but facts are facts."
All living beings are born under the premise of mortality. Yet exceptions exist.
The nine-tailed fox was one such exception.
Faith, doctrine, belief, values, notions, common sense...
And so on.
Stripped of such intangible values, placed naked on the scales, one couldn't help but recognize the disparity.
Nine-tailed foxes stood shoulder-to-shoulder with transcendent beings like Vacheksar or the sea god Shailan.
Of course, the nine-tailed fox itself had no interest in being worshipped, so it couldn't truly stand alongside them.
But its potential was undeniable.
Thus, Siron found it impossible to believe that a human had tamed a nine-tailed fox.
Could the hero be ensnared by the fox? She wanted to dismiss the thought, but it lingered.
Aiden slowly spoke. "Nine-tailed foxes never forget enemies or benefactors. I have a debt to collect, and crucially, the beast loves me. If I can't slaughter her, I'll exploit that emotion thoroughly. Does that answer you?"
Though addressing Siron, his words were meant for the nine-tailed fox.
He knew Saya was watching.
Siron wore a slightly troubled expression. "B-but—"
"Believe it or not—that's your choice. You can report it to the Order if you wish. I've said my piece."
Unless Saya's massacre came to light, even if the Order learned of the nine-tailed fox's existence, the Paladins wouldn't act.
The Order had too much on its plate—including northern issues.
Besides, the beast left no evidence.
Siron sighed in resignation. "Jude and I agreed. We won't report it to the Order. We trust you... Just please be careful. That's all I ask."
Aiden nodded. "Get some rest. We move at dawn."
It took five days for the Order to deliver their gear.
Meanwhile, Aiden and Siron thoroughly scouted the area believed to house Benzegma's core.
Ironically, their headquarters were in the Saint Pigmalia Church—a fairly large Valanches cathedral in the southeast.
The Order sent a hundred execution troops. Aiden considered sending them back but decided to utilize them.
Of course, he had no intention of letting them kill demons.
Aiden stationed the execution troops in ambush along potential escape routes.
As professionals, they could operate independently without direct command.
The rest were dispersed to encircle the perimeter.
On an exceptionally moonlit night, Aiden and Siron walked slowly into the territory.
A quiet, quaint, moderately affluent village—utterly ordinary.
As they strolled along a farm path, a resident spotted the holy armor and came running.
A pleasant-faced young man. He smiled obsequiously at Aiden and Siron.
"Oh, eyes of the divine, you've had a hard journey. But what brings you here so late? The church is over there."
He pointed toward a massive cathedral.
His expression turned apologetic.
"Mass is still ongoing, but if you wait a bit, I'll inform the bishop. For now, let me guide you—"
Before he could finish, Aiden spoke.
"What is the name of the god you worship?"
A strange light seeped into Aiden's pupils—his Mind's Eye activated.
The man laughed awkwardly, feigning confusion. "W-what do you mean—?"
"Last chance. Who is your god?"
Scratching his head, the man replied, "Haha, why, Vacheksar, of course, milord."
Aiden nodded and slowly drew his holy sword.
The blade sang coldly. Moonlight absorbed into the steel, making it shimmer blue.
As the man stepped back in panic, Aiden slowly pushed the sword into his gut.
Blood trickled down the blade.