Zugzwang (2): The Forced Defeat Event
The players who ran called the event that unfolded in Story Chapter 1 the Forced Defeat Event. It was the name given to the inevitable loss against the unidentified blood-red knight who appeared beneath the crimson moon.
“…Accipe Dominum Vetus.”
With a metallic click-click, like gears grinding into place, the Blood Knight charged at the hero Demian while uttering those words.
──Boom!
Air burst outward as the Blood Knight’s figure thinned into a streak. He had only kicked off the ground, yet the earth around him shattered and flew into the air. A single motion raised a cloud of dust that swallowed the view.
‘He’s moving like he already knows Demian’s weaknesses.’
I kept my stealth active and watched the fight from a short distance away. In the original story, the Blood Knight had been designed as an opponent you could never beat—no matter how overpowered a custom character you created. Level scaling, elemental disadvantage, ability nullification, counterattacks… The developers had piled every possible buff onto him so he could serve as an intentional roadblock. After all, it was faster to learn a game’s story and combat by losing once and adjusting than by breezing through every fight.
But this was no longer a game. This was a world where wounds bled and the dead stayed dead.
“Everyone, weapons up! What are you doing?!”
──Clang!!
Demian barely managed to block the Blood Knight’s sword and shouted at his companions in a tone he rarely used. Of course he would react this way if he knew the future. He already knew they would lose to the Blood Knight. There was one crucial flaw in that knowledge, however.
‘The Blood Knight never kills anyone in the game. He only toys with his opponents until they’re on the brink of death.’
Because the fight was a scripted loss, neither the player nor any of Demian’s companions ever had their lives taken. It made sense—if an unbeatable enemy slaughtered the protagonist and every supporting character, there would be no game left to play. The knight’s only purpose was to break their will, leaving them crippled and traumatized.
— Is it really okay to just leave them like that, Shade? That thing looks terrifying!
Phantom’s body and voice trembled slightly. He had instinctively recognized the knight as a superior predator.
‘It’s fine. Let’s watch a little longer.’
I didn’t drop my stealth to help them. I had my own plans. I studied Demian’s expression and reactions, trying to gauge how many loops or regressions he had already endured. If this was still an early cycle with few repetitions, he wouldn’t even know the Blood Knight never killed its victims. Or perhaps he had already learned something else.
“O Miles Lunae Rubrae….”
“Luna! Use any water or blood magic you have to slow that thing down! Anything—just do it now!”
A slash Demian failed to fully block grazed his cheek. Hot blood welled from the shallow cut. Even if he knew the future, his current physical abilities were nowhere near enough to match the Blood Knight. He moved like a noble’s son raised in a greenhouse—basic swordsmanship drilled into his body, yet almost no experience against opponents stronger than himself.
Clang! Clang! Boom—!
Every swing of the Blood Knight’s blade generated a shockwave that devastated the surroundings. If I hadn’t already transformed into shadow via Phantom, I would have been caught in the destruction. The forest around us was being carved apart, trees toppling in every direction.
At this rate, defeat was inevitable.
“Hah… hah… O wolf god who dwells atop the northern peak, bare your snow-white mane and annihilate our foe…!”
Only after Demian himself cried out for help did Luna, still trembling like a leaf, raise her staff toward the Blood Knight and begin her chant. Her judgment wasn’t bad. The spell she was casting was a 6th-circle intermediate magic. But it would fail. It wasn’t an ambush, it wasn’t pre-cast, and it was an obvious attack launched without first suppressing the target.
“Lupus Glacie Interi—.”
The half-elf known as the Blue Witch had her incantation cut short. The red knight filled the opening with a simple charge and a punch. The impact ended with the dull, sickening sound of bones shattering.
After taking a single blow, Luna was hurled far away, crashing through several trees before finally coming to a stop.
“Luna!!!!”
Demian screamed toward the direction she had flown, but no one answered. Her ribs were probably broken and her organs damaged. The Saintess Lavi could heal injuries like that later. Whether Luna would carry the trauma afterward was another matter.
“Everyone, I will declare a sanctuary here! Please buy me a little time!”
“Got it, Lavi.”
“……Damn it. I really didn’t want to use arrows.”
After witnessing the Blood Knight’s overwhelming strength firsthand, tension filled the remaining companions’ faces. Until moments ago they had been laughing together, backs pressed against one another in a life-or-death fight. Now one of them had been taken out by a single punch—though not actually killed.
‘So the best plan they could come up with is a sanctuary. It’s the textbook response against that kind of existence, but…’
I watched Saintess Lavi drop to her knees and begin praying, and I covered my mouth in dismay. Their opponent was simply too strong. In the face of such overwhelming power, ordinary tactics were useless. Besides, a sanctuary worked by crushing the surrounding area with holy power, like a sterile field.
‘That won’t work on the Blood Knight. He isn’t an undead to begin with.’
In the original story his name had appeared as ???. Through data mining, players had discovered that the knight was called the Blood Knight and that his race was simply “human.” That had sparked endless speculation.
‘He’s actually a forgotten previous hero.’ ‘No, he’s a character who experienced a bad ending because there was no player.’
Theories multiplied, but the most important thread—the hero Demian’s own story—had never been resolved before the game’s service ended.
“A sanctuary won’t work!”
Just when it seemed they would simply lose, Demian once again barely blocked the Blood Knight’s sword and shouted to his companions.
“Shade-nim will come soon. Instead of a sanctuary, give me a blessing so I can hold on! Calliope and Isabella, support me from the front!”
“……!”
Hearing Demian’s voice, I moved before I realized it. Once again, his judgment was nearly perfect—except for the missing prerequisite of actually suppressing or creating an opening in the enemy.
His earlier decision to freeze the knight’s blood had been reasonable too. Fighting at close range to buy time instead of relying on ranged attacks wasn’t entirely wrong either. That is, if I actually showed up as reinforcements.
‘But how could he possibly know that?’
It was contradictory. If he didn’t know Luna wouldn’t die, then this had to be an early cycle with few regressions. Yet how could the hero be so certain I would come to help? Even if he knew the future, there were still too many gaps in his knowledge.
“Shade-nim will definitely come! If he does, this thing is nothing…!”
Demian spoke with the conviction of a fanatic, insisting I would save him and his companions. I wasn’t that kind of person. From the beginning, my plan had been to steal the hero’s holy sword and force him and his party to reveal their true colors. I needed an opportunity of my own. As someone who had once enjoyed the game, I had a small, selfish desire to complete the memories I shared with my girlfriend.
…Or so I had thought.
‘The Demian I knew from the original story was nothing but trash without the holy sword.’
A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. His face showed not a single trace of doubt. If he truly knew the future, he should also know what would happen if I chose not to move.
‘……’
Was this really the Demian I remembered from the original? That expression looked like it could belong to humanity’s hope—the hero.
“Yeah, if Demian’s saying it that confidently, then the thief guild leader is definitely coming!”
Hope lit up Calliope’s face as well. Raised among the northern barbarian tribes that revered strength above all else, she gripped her battle axe and leapt forward at those irresponsible words.
“…Demian-nim, I will follow your decision. Judging by the faint life force I sense, Luna-nim can still be saved.”
Calm returned to Lavi’s expression. Normally, Saintess Lavi would have been the first to lose her composure when facing death for the first time.
“Hah, seriously. Shade this, Shade that… I guess I can’t refuse. Isn’t this too much?”
Isabella lowered the bow passed down through her family and drew the rapier at her waist before charging in. It was the sword I had once given her as a gift—one that transferred weight to the opponent while maintaining its lightness and destructive power.
Those hopes converged on the hero Demian. Betting their lives on the uncertain promise of my arrival, they rushed forward like moths to a flame. It was almost worthy of being called a hero’s party.
But the world never unfolded like a fairy tale. If it did, I wouldn’t have needed to burn my own face to escape the pursuit of criminals.
“Quid in Fine Desperationis Vidisti.”
──Boom, bang, crash!
The moment the Blood Knight spoke those words, his companions who had been attacking together were sent flying like leaves. Even the saintess in the rear was hurled away. None of them could withstand a single punch; they crashed into distant trees, bones breaking and blood pouring.
* * *
How much time had passed?
“Not yet… not yet…”
After fighting the Blood Knight for nearly an hour, the hero Demian spoke in a clear voice devoid of anger, impatience, or fear at the loss of his companions.
“Shade-nim still hasn’t arrived. So… there’s still hope.”
Using his broken iron sword like a cane, the hero repeated the same words with trembling arms and legs exhausted from the battle and the overwhelming difference in strength.
‘……’
Had he truly gone mad? Or did he know I was watching from the side and was deliberately saying those words?
“Even without the holy sword Einherjar… I can still buy time against someone like you!!!”
His voice was filled with rage. Blood painted his forehead and cheeks. Armor joints dripped crimson. The hero charged at the Blood Knight once more, swinging his broken blade. His appearance was so wretched that for a moment it was hard to tell who the Blood Knight was. But the outcome had already been decided. This was meaningless struggling. Even now his legs gave out and he fell.
“……Ah.”
With a short cry, Demian’s balance collapsed and he pitched forward. Clang, crash—the iron sword, his final weapon, flew far away and struck the ground.
The Blood Knight did not move. He had already inflicted enough trauma to break their spirits, and their defeat was certain. There was no longer any need to fight the hero or wound his companions.
Yet—
“Don’t leave!! You bastard!! Fight me!! Fight, damn it…!! That’s your job!!”
Demian provoked the knight with curses, thrashing like an insect flipped onto its back. The knight turned away. He was a machine built for only one purpose—like Deus Ex Machina, he had appeared suddenly to deliver defeat and was now preparing to depart.
“Shade-nim will come soon!! He can kill someone like you in an instant!!”
Why was he so sincere? I no longer wanted to listen to this tiresome, childish tantrum. An hour had already passed. That was long enough to give up. No matter how impressive Demian’s regressions or loops were, once the future had been seen through, the chance of the same outcome repeating was extremely low.
“Ah, ugh… aaaaah… Shade…”
The hero Demian wailed as he watched the Blood Knight walk away. Even in this desperate moment, he did not call out to any god. Instead, like a broken cassette tape, he kept repeating only my name.
Just as I was about to turn away, thinking they would eventually regain consciousness and recover—
— Hermann, the author of Demian, originally used the pseudonym Emil Sinclair. Isn’t that interesting? The same as the character.
A faint voice, as if about to disappear, reached my ears.
— No, it’s not like Japanese shishōsetsu. The author’s reality isn’t directly reflected in it. So you read the book I recommended?
A conversation I had shared with someone long ago.
— The bird fights its way out of the egg. I wonder if the hero Demian’s obsession with the holy sword was inspired by the original novel. I thought I had completely erased it from my memory—the soft, warm tone of my girlfriend’s voice.
As if entranced, I began running toward the source of that voice.
— So what I’m saying is, Demian was always meant to be the one who saves people…
‘…The one who must save everyone is the hero, but Demian hoped there would also be someone who could save the hero.’
I copied Calliope’s strength. Crack—
Dropping my stealth, I tore off one of the Blood Knight’s arms like paper and revealed myself.
‘Originally, he was someone who couldn’t even save himself.’
I recited the memory she had left me like a vow in my heart.
“Sh… Shade-nim…”
“I’m helping you because your name is Demian. Consider yourself lucky.”