Forward, One Step (6)
Crack.
The sensation of piercing something thin yet hard traveled up through the blade. He had driven it through a shell like an eggshell, stabbing into the tender core within.
From the feel through his longsword, Hans was certain.
I did it.
"Guhah, hwaaaaaah!!! ■■■-!!!"
Nurgle, skewered on the sword, writhed like a bug on a spit and screamed in agony. Just like the worms that composed his body, he thrashed uglily in a desperate bid to survive.
At the sight, Hans put even more force into the blade, driving it deeper. With a firm push, he felt the sharp edge completely pierce through that tender something.
Deepest within the demon's body, he had utterly destroyed whatever it was—the demon's most fatal core.
"Guh, ughwaaah—!!!"
Nurgle's body began to melt away. It dripped down blacker and more foul than the filth at his feet, like rancid mud. The worms turned to pus and ichor and fell away, vanishing without a trace.
Little by little, he melted. Like a snowman facing summer, he dissolved before the sacred light until he was nothing more than a handful of foul sludge.
Hans quietly made the sign of the cross as he watched.
With more than half his body already gone, Nurgle looked up at Hans and spoke.
"Krhh— You, you bastard... How. How—!!"
How had this been possible?
It had been as absurd and reckless as a boy soldier standing against a giant. Yet the victor was Hans.
Even Hans himself could not say exactly how it had been possible. But one thing was certain.
"The God watches over me from behind, and there are people who walked the path ahead of me. How could I ever lose to a mere demon?"
The Sixth God protected Hans, and those who had gone before guided the road he walked. He had fought alone, yet he had never truly been alone. How could he dare lose to something like a demon?
Hearing those words, Nurgle roared.
"How—!! How the power of ■—!! Why is ■ back again!!"
"What...?"
Hans found himself listening despite himself. It was wiser never to heed a demon's words, yet Nurgle—already melted nearly to nothing and sprawled across the floor—no longer posed any real threat.
"■... Aaaah... resentful..."
Reduced to a mere puddle of poison, Nurgle's voice grew fainter and fainter until it vanished completely.
Hans stood quietly watching. What had the demon meant at the end?
And though he had been too caught up in the fight to think clearly, the demon's words had almost sounded as if...
...as if there had been no gods in this world until now...
Startled by the blasphemous thought that had risen unbidden, Hans slapped his own cheek hard.
What kind of impious idea was that? Even now the God was surely watching over him. Hans hastily raised a prayer toward the heavens.
"Almighty Sixth God, I was momentarily deceived by a demon's words and entertained a blasphemous thought..."
After reciting the short prayer, Hans looked up at the ceiling with slightly tense eyes. The God truly observed his every move; every word and gesture had to be careful.
Fortunately, the merciful God seemed to have no intention of punishing Hans's impious thought—no thunderbolt fell.
— Glint.
"Hm?"
As he limped toward the exit, steadying his heavy body, Hans's gaze fell on something glittering on the floor. Amid the handful of foul sludge lay a blood-red gem.
A murky crimson jewel thick with an ominous aura. At its center, the clear mark of Hans's sword still remained. That must have been the core that formed Nurgle's divine essence.
"...I'll take it for now."
It was repulsive, the sort of thing that seemed likely to curse its bearer, yet better to keep it just in case. Hans carefully wrapped the gem in cloth so it would not touch his skin and tucked it into his pocket.
Then, limping heavily, he left the cave.
"Hoo—"
Outside, clean air greeted him. The clear moonlight seemed to welcome him home.
Only then did everything begin to feel real.
He had fought a demon.
And he had returned alive.
"...I have to go."
Back to the side of that bold girl who claimed they had made a promise he himself did not remember. He had promised to return soon.
Hans limped onward. Behind him, drops of blood fell one by one, leaving only a trail.
"My lady—! They're heading that way again!"
"I know!"
The mountain village that had once been a quiet rural settlement—now a small fortress—was filled with the traces of slaughter. The surrounding ground was nothing but the corpses of magical beasts, and the blood flowing from the piled bodies ran like a small river.
Even so, the endless tide of beasts was nothing short of a natural disaster.
Just how many young did she birth in so short a time...!
Kenis never stopped running. No matter how she thought about it, something was wrong. The pack mother that had fled the Empire and settled here had been in place for at most one or two months. For her to produce this many offspring in that short time was nearly impossible, even for a magical beast that defied natural law.
Something definitely intervened!
Heretic cultists, or a demon. One of the two had clearly interfered with the pack mother. Nothing else could explain such abnormal breeding.
"Hero! Second platoon is combat-ineffective!! We're falling back!!"
"Western wall is requesting support!! No units available to send!!"
"Tch... Hold on just a little longer!! I'm coming!"
The soldiers gave everything they had, yet the endless waves of beasts steadily produced more wounded. The injured were carried to the rear, treated by the priests, and sent back to the line—but the number of casualties kept rising until it exceeded what the priests could handle.
"Kenis! Fall back! If you stay there you'll be surrounded!"
"Kh..."
Once again she retreated. She had already lost count of how many times. The lightning that had blanketed heaven and earth had given them a brief chance to catch their breath, yet the beasts pressed forward with sheer numbers so overwhelming that the respite felt meaningless.
"Everyone—! Hang! In there!!"
From atop the wall, Ruel swung the Morning Star Staff with all her might, scattering light in every direction. As the light sank into their bodies, drained stamina began to return.
"Hey—! You'll die if you stay there!! Get back, get back!!"
"Hiek!!"
At Friga's shout, Ruel scrambled backward. Even that brief moment had given them significant strength.
"Kraaah!!"
Nearby, Iscal was turning beasts into pulp with his massive shield. Still short on combat experience, he moved with the soldiers rather than fighting alone like Friga or Kenis, steadily holding the line.
The battle that had begun in the dead of night stretched on until dawn.
"Hah... hah—"
"Hey, you okay?"
"Ah... I'm fine. I can still... still keep going."
"Don't push it. Those bastards never stop coming. Manage your stamina—stamina."
Friga approached Kenis, a hint of worry in her eyes. Even Friga herself was beginning to feel the limits of her endurance, her breath growing short. At least she had stayed in one place, so it was still bearable.
But Kenis, who had spent the entire night racing back and forth between the eastern and western walls, was already near her limit. For hours she had swung her sword without rest, carried people back, and run. Even a Hero was still human. The limits of stamina were absolute.
O God...!
Kenis looked at the fresh wave of beasts pouring in from afar and offered another prayer.
She did not fear death. She was a body that should have died the moment a demon seized her. She lived now only by the mercy of God.
What she feared was failing to fulfill the mission given to her by dying.
The single mission God had bestowed upon her.
Destroy evil, and protect the good...
Until the day she completed that mission, she was bound to devote her body completely. She would serve and sacrifice until that day arrived.
"Hoo—"
She drew a deep breath and steadied her breathing. Though she had cut down countless corpses, her holy sword remained sharp. She raised it firmly and looked ahead with calm, settled eyes.
Countless plague rats thundered across the ground. Clear madness streamed from their eyes; they drooled and charged in a frenzy.
"Hup—!"
Just as the beasts reached her and lunged—
— Clang!
"Uh?"
A massive spear-banner plummeted from the sky and planted itself before the horde, blocking their path. The flag attached to it billowed in the wind, displaying its full majesty without restraint.
A vast golden banner fluttered. Finely embroidered golden figures seemed almost to move—a horse and warrior galloping bravely across a wide plain. Sacred, mysterious characters were densely carved into the shaft, and the spear itself was so enormous that Kenis had to crane her neck for a long moment before she could see its tip.
"Th-this is...?"
As Kenis stared blankly at the banner, the sound of hoofbeats seemed to reach her from somewhere.
Neigh—!
"Horse sounds...?"
Imperial reinforcements?—Kenis thought, instinctively scanning her surroundings. Yet nowhere could she find any supporting army.
Even so, the hoofbeats and the horses' cries grew steadily louder. Thud-thud, they seemed to shake the earth—yet the ground did not tremble. Fierce snorts and whinnies filled the air—yet no horses could be seen.
As everyone froze at the sudden, uncanny situation, a powerful voice rang out from the heavens.
"Th-that's..."
From the sky, countless warriors came riding down on horseback. Every mount was a steed of peerless quality, and the warriors' presence was more than enough to call them the army of God.
At last, the great warriors of the divine had descended upon the earth.