112. Traitor of Humanity
112. Traitor of Humanity
Blight Cradle.
It was a name Marcus could never forget.
The man was his own blood brother. Frail, yes, but brilliantly intelligent — so much so that even the royal court acknowledged his talent and appointed him as a dedicated scholar.
He had admired that brilliant older brother.
At one point, he had even regarded his brother — whose intellect swayed the fate of an entire nation — as a savior.
So then, why...?
"Why have you appeared before me in such a wretched state?"
What could have happened to their homeland while he was away?
What kind of end had his brother met in that plague-ruined country, that he would be resurrected by lingering regret and stand before him now as a betrayer of humanity?
"...To call it a 'wretched state' — that's rather harsh, don't you think?"
The voice seeped out from the severed neck he had just decapitated.
From that grotesque head, no longer bearing any trace of human form, came the voice of his brother — a voice he had not forgotten even after half a century.
"Marcus, though the path I walk has indeed diverged from yours, the fact that you are my brother still remains vividly etched in my memory...."
"Shut your mouth. You are nothing but a monster that has monopolized my brother's corpse. Do not desecrate his death any further!!"
It was an obvious thing to say.
After all, an undead is merely a replica, constructed from the strongest lingering attachments among the memories left within a corpse.
Even records written by human hands suffer distortion — so what difference could there possibly be in a brother resurrected by the hand of a calamity called the Corpse Lord?
"...Ah, what a shame. I had hoped we might share a touching brotherly reunion after all this time. But I suppose even a beloved younger brother, being among the living, cannot be expected to understand."
Slithering softly, the tentacles extending from the neck began to intertwine with its collapsed body.
A grotesque act that no ordinary person could ever conceive of.
And to see it carried out through his brother's corpse — Marcus, recoiling in horror, hastily raised his blade and leveled a threat at him.
"Don't move!!"
"Whoa, whoa~ Calm down, little brother. This is nothing but a Clone, not even the main body to begin with. If you get that frightened, your lifespan will only shorten faster, you know?"
At those deliberately provocative words, the blade aimed at him quivered slightly.
A Clone, he said. So the one who had come here had not come to execute the commander directing this place?
If the Clone had not been sent for elimination, then for what purpose?
"...Just why?"
Even though he had risen to the rank of legion commander, leading an army responsible for humanity's future.
Had even that become utterly insignificant in the eyes of an existence elevated to the level of calamity, like this one?
"What did our homeland suffer, that you were transformed into such a being? The you from before...."
"Was weak, timid, a bookworm who knew nothing but his studies. And at the same time, he was a loyal vassal who, like you, knew only devotion to his lord."
Clone or not, the foundation was the man who had once been his brother.
From that foundation, to his younger brother who was searching for any fragment of understanding in the present situation, Blight quietly returned a bitter answer.
"The reason someone like me now walks a different path from yours is simply that I came to realize a single truth."
"A realization? What...."
"In the end, all living beings are destined to become dust... And yet, every living creature instinctively understands that even after they depart, this world will continue to flow on. That is why they feel fear and avoid danger, why they feel desire and strive to grow, and at the end of it all, why they seek to leave descendants behind."
There was a sense of nostalgia in those words.
As if to demonstrate that, though his head had rotted away, the foundation was unmistakably that of his brilliant older brother.
"But despite that natural order, this world is filled with absurdities far too cruel for any living being. No matter how diligently one lives, being annihilated overnight by a natural disaster is commonplace. So how could one ever be certain that simply following their instincts will ensure their mark remains upon this world?"
"...And for that reason, you willingly chose to take part in this?"
"Indeed. I, too, am now a loyal vassal who, of my own will, has joined the ideals of a second lord."
A smile etched itself across the beak-like mouth.
Even though its outward appearance was grotesquely alien compared to a human's, what was drawn upon those lips was immediately recognizable as a smile brimming with conviction.
"That person once spoke these words. If all is fated to vanish into annihilation, then should we not, at the very least, forge a gravestone sturdy enough to remain after that annihilation? And is it not the true calling of those facing the end to ensure that as many people as possible can leave such traces behind?!"
That was the ultimate future pursued by the dead.
If despair could not be defied, then they would hasten the moment of being absorbed into that despair — so that they might at least leave some trace behind.
"And was that something you had to achieve by trampling over the living?!"
Absolutely. Without question.
A despairing future in which those still alive could never participate.
"If our ideals aligned, we might have sought a compromise without fighting. But Marcus — you, who lived through the Age of War, surely understand this. When compromise is impossible, there is no choice but to fight. That is the way of this world."
Yes, in the end, if they could not stand together, they had to fight.
That was precisely why, in a place where he could have simply swept through without a second thought, he had deliberately recognized his long-lost younger brother and sought him out.
"Which is why I do not resent you. And so, you too should not resent me. Even if the future unfolding before us is one you do not desire... that is simply the way this world has always been."
This was one of the lingering attachments held by the dead one named Blight Cradle.
Perhaps, for the sake of what might come to pass here — the final concern of a brother, hoping that his younger brother's end, if it should come, would be even just a little less bitter.
"Commander! Are you unharmed!?"
"There's a White Knight over there! Holy Knight Order! Use divine power to execute that bastard!!"
Soldiers stormed onto the scene behind him. Cutting down the infected in their path as they approached, they were also clerics who wielded the divine power capable of resisting the plague.
But Blight's Clone had already spoken its final words and lost consciousness.
Marcus, who had been staring down at him in helplessness, ground his teeth and urgently turned his attention to the subordinates who had come for him.
"Commander, we're relieved you're safe, but there is no time to linger here."
"The infected will storm this area soon as well. For now, we should retreat to the western sector where the clerics are gathered and regroup...."
"Send the Heroes guarding the northern barricade to the deepest part of the excavation site immediately!"
Marcus urgently shouted at the soldiers who were trying to escort him.
At his bellowing roar, the soldiers hesitated, then turned sharply to look back at him.
"The Heroes to the deepest part...? What about containing the situation here?"
"Those already infected and fallen in battle are beyond our help, but the damage unfolding here right now is something we can still manage on our own!"
Even after confronting his own brother, he had reached this judgment while still maintaining his composure.
In truth, Blight had committed only a small number of his own troops, lying in ambush for a covert strike. Even if that small force spread infected among the ranks, so long as they kept their distance and received the clerics' support, secondary spread could be prevented.
The reason Blight had not mobilized additional forces and had limited himself to throwing the garrison zone into chaos was most likely for one of the objectives Marcus had initially predicted: diversion.
'He's not simply waiting for the Red Knight to enter. The forces both sides have committed to assaulting this place are far too few for that...!'
If they did not commit any further troops, it meant the enemy's objective was not to annihilate this place, but to infiltrate the interior and rapidly close in on their target.
And in this land, there was only one location worth targeting in such a manner.
"The White Knight's objective is clearly the Dragon's Heart! Send the Heroes there immediately — they must stop them!"
The Dragon's Heart. Among the remains of the dragon, weathered beyond endurance by the ages and reduced to dust, it was the one place that still harbored colossal energy.
Upon confirming its existence, the Empire had prioritized excavating it and was already prepared to escort it to the capital before long.
Since all paths leading there had been fully opened, with a diversion of this scale unfolding now, infiltrating the interior with deliberate intent would not be difficult.
'Right now, three Heroes are managing to hold back the Red Knight. Even if she is devastating against large armies, the White Knight's combat prowess is relatively weaker compared to the other Knights. A small elite force should be sufficient to handle her...!'
Among the Heroes were clerics capable of combating the plague.
Thus, while they staked their lives on containing the chaos at the garrison, if those Heroes advanced into the deepest part and dealt with the matter, they could somehow thwart the enemy's objective.
"W-Well, about that...."
But the faces of the soldiers who had received the order were painted only with dismay.
Exchanging uneasy glances, they reluctantly delivered unwelcome news to Marcus.
"Not a single Hero responded to the initial call ordering them to head for the northern defensive line."
"...What?"
"Exactly as I said. Reporting was delayed due to the sudden attack, but the identities of the Heroes who were supposed to head north are currently unaccounted for."
"What in blazes is that supposed to mean?! Don't tell me they're dragging their feet even in a situation like this...."
"Commander! An emergency!"
A soldier came rushing toward the bristling Marcus.
Having urgently cut his way through the gaps between the undead, he was desperate to deliver his report to the legion commander even while his breathing was dangerously ragged.
"Right now, at the deepest part of the excavation site... the guards defending the path to the Dragon's Heart have been found murdered!"
"Murdered? What in the...."
Murdered. It was not an expression one would use if the perpetrators were undead.
Because those killed by them rise again as the dead and turn into enemies.
In a situation where allies transform into enemies, using the word 'murdered' would be a contradiction.
"Betrayal...."
And yet, there was one reason why that expression had been used.
Because something had occurred that made the undead invasion pale in comparison.
"All the Heroes, except for the three guarding the eastern sector, have collectively betrayed us in order to seize the Dragon's Heart!"
A situation where the hopes of humanity had conspired together to commit betrayal.
It was unfolding at this most desperate and critical moment.
****
At the same time, within the passage leading toward the deepest part of the excavation site.
While the garrison zone was being thrown into chaos by the infected and reinforcements to the interior were delayed, two spore capsules imbued with magical power flew toward Blight as he navigated the passage.
Both were plague vectors that he had implanted in his Clones.
His body was capable of receiving such vectors and indirectly experiencing the memories of what those Clones had witnessed.
"Hm, so. That's how it turned out, is it?"
One was the Clone he had attached to the Red Knight. The other, the Clone he had sent to the commander directing this garrison zone for the purpose of provocation.
Ironically, of the two, the one Blight had paid more mind to was not the princess of the kingdom he served, but rather the one concerning his own younger brother — a man who had become one of the pillars of humanity.
"If only he had gone off somewhere and died an obscure death, there would have been no need to fight. But in the end, it came to this."
It was a regrettable thing, if it could be called that.
Their ideal was something one could only reluctantly pursue in a ruined world — but the instincts of the living would never permit themselves to understand it.
"...Well, Marcus will come to understand eventually too. That in order to leave anything behind even in a world like this, everyone has no choice but to lean on Woohyo."
Yes, Blight did not, at the very least, consider himself to have fallen.
Even a royal dynasty that had flourished so brilliantly collapsed overnight because of a plague — so what could a mere human possibly accomplish by struggling against such a natural disaster? No matter how desperately one raged, it would all be meaningless.
Thus, in order to leave behind even a trace that he had once lived, there was no choice but to lean upon the name etched into his mind.
By spreading the name of that stranger — Woo Hyosung, someone he had never even met in person — ever more widely....
"...Huh? Wait a moment. Something feels off."
Sensing that his train of thought had derailed at some point, Blight let out a soft chuckle, his mind snapping back into clarity.
However long it had been since his head had rotted, to think that even his very mission was being buried beneath a name that surfaced more vividly than any lingering attachment....
"Puhaha, an existence that etches itself endlessly even into the memories of the dead.... If not for these circumstances, I would have liked to seek him out personally, you know."
A trivial curiosity, but once this affair was over, he wanted to meet the one who was the source of that name at least once.
Setting that thought aside, Blight took a moment to survey the center of the passage, intending to refocus on his mission.
"Well then, for now, I've succeeded rather ambitiously in making my way into the deepest part...."
Scattered across the floor were nearly ten corpses clad in elegant and exorbitantly expensive equipment.
One could tell at a glance, simply by the appearance that set them apart from ordinary soldiers and adventurers, that these were the ones called Heroes — the so-called hopes of humanity.
"So why exactly are all the ones here completely wiped out?"
The sight of those Heroes lying dead throughout the area was, to Blight, an immense surprise.
He himself had entered into the heart of enemy territory with a fair amount of resolve — and yet, the Heroes he had expected to pursue him had been discovered as corpses even before he arrived.
'Don't tell me some faction separate from us broke in and launched a surprise attack... No, that's not it.'
Blight compared the wounds on their corpses against the weapons clutched in their hands.
Just by seeing that the injuries matched, it was not difficult to deduce that the ones responsible for this situation were none other than each other.
Not only had the Heroes he had expected to pursue him entered this place ahead of him, but on top of that, they had even come all the way here to kill and die at one another's hands.
Could it be that those who had coveted the Dragon's Heart not only betrayed humanity, but then betrayed even the comrades who had joined them in that betrayal — all so they could monopolize the Heart for themselves?
-BOOOOM!!!
No sooner had that suspicion crossed his mind than a mass of energy erupted from a remote corner of the cave.
Blight's mask shattered mercilessly from the impact, exposing his grotesquely distorted face before his opponent.
"...Well, well. Would you look at this?"
And Blight had perceived his opponent just as clearly.
Confirming that the one who had ambushed him was the very Hero who had created this situation, Blight's eyes flashed sharply, his displeasure towards the other plain to see.
"I thought what would unfold here was a battle between the living and the dead...."
"So why, out of nowhere, is a mosquito buzzing in and spoiling the show?"
To think that a Hero awakened as a 'Vampire' had been hiding among those sponsored by humanity's leadership.
Wasn't it blatantly obvious now why Heroes were all so hopelessly foolish?