The Horseless Horse and the Speechless Knight (2)
While soothing his daughter and watching the knight's retreating back, the farmer sensed something off. It was still too early for the sun to have set. The forest night came quickly, but by his experience, there should have been some time left before it fully dropped. Yet the woods were darkening rapidly, as if someone were stealing away the light. In the place where the sunset had vanished, a black mist-like haze draped over everything. And beyond it, two red glowing eyes like will-o'-the-wisps floated up.
Mountain ghost. His arms tightened around his daughter. But there was one fact the farmer hadn't noticed. Something resembling the black mist the mountain ghost had spread was also seeping from beneath the knight's feet.
It was coming.
I faced the Bicorn with its glowing red eyes. For ordinary folk, its shape would look blurry until their eyes adjusted to the dark, but a Dark Knight's eyes pierced the shadows well. One of the few useful perks of this flashy-named class. Even spirits were clear as day. The minor issue was that they could see me just as well.
The Bicorn seemed to realize I had spotted it, keeping its distance instead of closing in. It looked confused. A Dark Knight was a legion commander who wielded the authority of darkness. The Bicorn was the perfect war steed for them. It probably thought I'd brought mountain sacrifices as a bride price to contract with it. I'd drawn some inspiration from that ritual to protect the father and daughter.
Being inside my circle meant they were under my protection, magically speaking. The moment that circle was broken or they stepped out, they'd become the Bicorn's prey. In other words, if it didn't want trouble with me, it couldn't just snatch them on a whim.
[How peculiar...]
A deep, rumbling baritone like a vibration in the air. A fine voice for a man-eater.
[You've set up a crude abyssal altar, yet no black magic clings to the offerings. If I hadn't seen you myself, I'd think this was a holy knight's trap.]
Krrruk. A sound like mocking laughter echoed through the mist-shrouded forest.
[How greedy for power you must be. Too stingy to spare even a drop of black magic to bless your sacrifices?]
"Blessing? It's just shackles to keep them from running. You're overhyping a mere formality."
The real reason was different. They lumped all sorts of sinister powers under "black magic," but the ones Dark Knights typically used had one thing in common: the more you drew on them, the crazier you got. I wanted to live healthy in body and mind.
[Ho. Then what did you use to bind them?]
"Love."
[Love? What an amusing answer! Explain further.]
It took a cautious step forward. Bicorns were greedy but clever. If I weren't a Dark Knight, or if I hadn't piqued its interest like this, it would've bolted the moment I approached.
"I told them I'd spare one family member. If they ran, even that one would die. How touching is that family bond?"
[Indeed, you're right. Love is their chain. How greedy and cunning you are!]
The Bicorn sounded impressed. My sensibilities were still normal enough not to bask in praise from a man-eater. I glanced back at the father and daughter. Still in place. Good thing I'd laid down the law beforehand. They'd chalk this conversation up to hallucination.
"I possess power and intellect worthy of you. Come to me."
The Bicorn approached warily. If it bowed its head and I offered them as sacrifice, a classic Dark Knight–abyssal steed contract would form. At last, it lowered its head, as if offering its horn for blessing.
I nodded solemnly and swiftly drew my sword, slashing down.
The farmer couldn't hold back his shock at the gruesome conversation echoing from outside the circle. Too vivid to dismiss as mere hallucination. If the knight hadn't warned him ahead, he'd have believed it real. He'd seemed suspicious from the start—might've judged him by appearances.
He wasn't fleeing with his daughter now because of the knight's prior admonition and the unexpected kindness shown on the way here. The knight approached the mountain ghost. It slowly lowered its body beneath him. Another illusion? Should they run now?
As the farmer wavered, the knight drew his sword. The black greatsword plummeted toward the mountain ghost's crown. Lightning-fast, beyond a mere villager's eyes to follow.
[You tricked me!]
The Bicorn's sharp cry. The knight seized the opening. His body swung with the rebounding sword, off-balance. He planted his right foot forward to steady himself. The blade, flung skyward, arced back down toward the Bicorn's neck. No time for words—a seamless second strike.
The Bicorn realized this knight had never intended to negotiate. Flee? But the initiative was already lost. Fighting here was disadvantageous.
As its demonic instinct raced to preserve its life, something else stirred beneath. The rationality that had thwarted its feeding until now—unlike its prior frenzied hindrance—this time it urged action. Fused with demonic rage, that reason drove its flesh to tear out the knight's heart.
Kriel sensed things wouldn't go smoothly. Bicorns were sly; if you couldn't catch or kill them in one go, they'd torment you with their four legs through the black woods. His mind reeled at the thought of a chase.
But the Bicorn reacted far differently than expected. Like a maddened bull charging a matador, it barreled toward Kriel, wreathed in black mist rising from its hooves—like a thundercloud streaking in.
Against a normal monster, Kriel would've welcomed that straightforward path and severed its neck with his greatsword. But Bicorn wasn't ordinary. Too fast.
Sensing its charge outpacing his attack, Kriel kicked off the ground. Enough to evade the body slam, but his greatsword lingered in its path. It clashed with the Bicorn's golden horns, wrenching free from his grip and embedding in a nearby dead tree.
Kriel felt the Bicorn smirk. A beast beyond mere monster level could express such mockery.
Black mist cloaked its body again. Not just obscuring vision—it fueled that supernatural acceleration.
Kriel judged swiftly: grab it before it fully sped up. The "darkness" a Dark Knight wielded divided into three: blood qi from physical pain, resentment from mental agony, and the abyss. Mental erosion worsened from front to back.
First time with blood qi: hallucinations for three days straight. Resentment added phantom pains. Abyss? He dared not. Side effects too severe, so if forced to use skills, only blood qi-based ones. Most enhanced the body—perfect for needing speed and strength now.
He unleashed the accumulated blood qi from slaughtering forest beasts. Red energy, refined from monster flesh and blood, enveloped him.
Thud! Crimson light bloomed from the shadows at his feet, spiderwebbing onto his armor like webs. A thunderous boom with his first sprinting step.
The Bicorn hadn't fully accelerated when they collided. Kriel gripped its horns with both hands. The Bicorn lunged to impale him, armor and all.
Their forces met midway, deadlocked without quarter. The ground beneath screamed and cracked.
Kriel seemed to give first—his left hand slipped from the horn. The Bicorn twisted viciously, thrashing wildly. Heart aimed, Kriel barely deflected with his right hand alone.
Just as the Bicorn's head hooked over his shoulder—his freed left hand wrapped its neck, and the power in his right surged fiercer.
The Bicorn sensed he meant to snap its neck. The contest shifted: Bicorn veins bulging in its throat to endure, knight wrenching horns to break neck and all.