War (5)
Najin almost never let his emotions rule him.
It wasn't that he had no impulsive side, but even then he moved with reasons of his own that were, in their way, rational. There was no grand philosophy behind it.
He had simply learned it in his bones from the time he was very small.
No matter how full of rage you went rampaging, no matter how emotionally you acted, little actually changed. What changed a situation was not anger—it was cold judgment.
Those who act on emotion die young. Those swept up by rage never escape a miserable end.
Having seen so many meet grim fates from emotional outbursts, Najin had taught himself how to rein in his feelings simply to survive. Rage when you must, but stay cold when you make the call. That was Najin's first principle.
He had kept to it well.
Except for his first encounter with the Revelry Emperor, he had kept to it. Najin believed so himself, and Merlin agreed. It was true that he possessed a self-restraint uncommon for his age.
······.
And so.
Merlin.
Yeah.
You can cut the connection.
Merlin felt something unfamiliar in the emotions pouring into her from Najin. A viscous, stretching rage. A sticky, clinging killing intent. Emotions Najin almost never showed.
Right now, Najin was furious.
A seething killing intent that wanted to tear the man before him apart this very instant boiled up inside him.
Najin had already expected that Ivan was likely dead. The odds of Ivan surviving after openly defying the Church were slim to none. And he had known he would not die cleanly either.
He had known.
But knowing and hearing it confirmed as fact were slightly different things. Najin chewed over Ivan's end as Carbin had described it. He had never seen that scene himself, yet his sharp imagination painted it vividly in his mind.
Ivan hanging in the square with both arms severed.
Having lost even his remaining eye.
A slow, wretched death beyond misery.
Strength flooded the hand gripping his sword. Bloodshot veins rose in Najin's eyes. Squeezing out his last scrap of patience, he told Merlin it would be better to sever their link.
Cut it?
Yes. It's not exactly a pleasant emotion to share.
You think I stuck with you just to see the nice parts?
Merlin sighed and tilted her head.
I doubt I could stop you anyway, and more importantly, I don't want to. As far as I'm concerned, this is righteous revenge.
······.
So do as you please.
It won't be a pretty sight.
What? You planning to grind him into paste or something?
Something like that.
Merlin snorted a laugh.
I've done worse than you ever will, so don't worry. If you saw how I used to thrash those witches in my prime, it'd make your hair stand on end.
Najin laughed inwardly. It had, actually. Thanks to Merlin, he felt a little lighter inside. He exhaled shortly and spun his sword once in a full circle.
Nothing held him back now.
In this moment there was no need to rein in emotion, no need to bleed off the rage, no need for cold judgment. Using the description Carbin had given him, Najin confirmed which one was Berlo.
That man would be last.
As Najin exhaled shortly, the Church's shadows who had been hiding all around charged him. Five Holy Knights who had reached the realm of Sword Seeker moved with them.
Enemies closed in from every side.
Najin moved a beat late.
Something flashed around him. Sword light. The flickering glints of sword aura wrapping the blade. Those flashes blazed briefly, then in rapid succession several more times.
The Sword Seekers could at least react. The shadows could not.
Shhhraaaak!
Like butchering the undead, Najin butchered the shadows coming at him. The difference from the undead was that they lacked any transcendent recovery or toughness.
Blood sprayed. Geysers of blood erupted.
Through the pouring blood, Najin moved. It was not the movement he usually showed. Not the clean, concise, dignified movement of a knight.
The movement of a hunting dog and an executioner.
As if announcing that Ivan's hound had returned to the underground city, Najin charged the Holy Knights.
The Holy Knights the Church had dispatched to the underground city numbered five.
Classed as top-tier Holy Knights just below the captain of the order, they were powerhouses who had at minimum reached Sword Seeker. Two of them had completed Sprouting, and one had reached Blooming—an elite among elites.
They also possessed rich experience.
Knights who had served the Church for long years, thrown into every sort of mission, with ample real combat experience. Meaning they were a force more than capable of handling a single Sword Seeker.
Realm for realm. Experience for experience.
Powerhouses who satisfied every condition.
All of them knew of Najin's existence.
They did not regard Najin as "just a Sword Seeker." They knew what had become of the knights of House Arvenia who had thought so. Knowing that, they let not a shred of complacency show.
From the start they threw everything into it, casting aside even a knight's pride, all five charging at once.
The only thing they overlooked was this:
The Najin they had seen in the duel with House Arvenia had not been going all out, and had held back so his opponents would not die or be badly hurt.
And—
KWAANG.
Compared to then, Najin had climbed a little higher.
The instant Najin kicked off the ground and took one step forward, they could not even keep up with his movement. By the time their eyes belatedly tracked him, Najin had already slipped into the guard of the knight at the very front.
"······!"
Even then, instead of panicking he reacted instantly and chose to counter—proof of the knight's skill. But skill in a fight is always relative. An unbridgeable gap existed between Najin and the Holy Knight.
Najin swung his sword.
The moment Najin's blade met the counter-swinging sword of the Holy Knight, the knight's eyes flew wide.
KWAJUK!
The clashing swords snapped. Not just snapped—the steel crumpled inward as if crushed. It was a sight the Holy Knight had never seen, and one he could not comprehend.
The sword broke? How?
He too was a Sword Seeker like Najin. His blade was likewise sheathed in sword aura carrying a mindscape. Yet it shattered on mere contact—did that make any sense?
The output was different. The repulsive force was different. The density of the sword aura was on another level entirely. The moment he saw his sword crumpled like scrap iron, the Holy Knight sensed his end.
Najin's sword met the Holy Knight's arm.
······Ordinarily, when forming sword aura, Najin prioritized cutting power over repulsive force. It made combat easier. But in this moment, Najin prioritized repulsive force.
The reason was simple.
It hurt the opponent more that way.
KWAAAAAAAAAANG!
With a thunderous roar the Holy Knight's body went flying into the air. Hurled far away, the knight groaned and tried to push himself up from the ground, only to realize belatedly that he could not.
"···Ah?"
Both his arms were bent the wrong way. The fingers that had gripped the sword were twisted in bizarre directions like fully bloomed petals, and no strength entered his arms, as if every bone had been shattered.
Belated pain flooded in and he screamed.
A single blow.
Even with one Sword Seeker crippled in a single blow, the remaining Holy Knights charged Najin.
Just what…
And Berlo watched it all with eyes wide. In his judgment, this was not a fight he could insert himself into.
······What in the world is going on?
Berlo could not keep up with the scene unfolding before him. The outside information available to Berlo, who had fallen to the underground city, was very limited, but even that was enough for him to know roughly who Najin was.
The youngest Sword Seeker.
And the youth who sat in the seat of Free Knight.
He knew that youth was the main culprit who had twisted his life, the boy who had pulled Excalibur that day and fled. The man who had ruined his life stood right before him······ yet Berlo could not even feel rage.
KWAAAAAAAAAANG!
Because the spectacle playing out before his eyes was simply too overwhelming.
KWANG, KWAAAAANG!
Roars echoed. He was clearly swinging a sword, yet it sounded like artillery shells exploding. Berlo's eyes could barely even register Najin's movements, but he could see the results.
A roar rang out and a Holy Knight was driven back. The driven-back knight's limbs trembled as he tried to fix his stance, only to be driven endlessly further back by one more explosion, then another, ceaselessly.
The moment the Holy Knight's back hit a wall.
Through the rising dust, Najin appeared and lightly swung his sword. That alone shattered the Holy Knight and the building his back had been against. How such a thing was possible with a single sword, Berlo could not know.
SHWEEEEEEK!
A Holy Knight who had ambushed Najin's back while his comrade was being handled failed to pierce him. As if he had eyes on his back as well, Najin's hand stretched behind him and seized the wrist of the sword-wielding knight.
With a whip of motion, Najin yanked the seized wrist and thrust out his other hand. With the empty hand that had released the sword, Najin seized the Holy Knight's throat.
"Guhk!"
The choked Holy Knight spat out a blocked breath. Najin simply lifted the Holy Knight's body. As if he did not even need a sword to subdue a Sword Seeker, Najin overpowered the Holy Knight bare-handed.
"Ghk, ghk, ghk······."
The Holy Knight thrashed. As he was strangled he clawed at Najin's arm, but Najin's movements did not so much as twitch. Subduing a Sword Seeker bare-handed was a situation Berlo's common sense simply could not grasp.
CRACK.
Something broke. Then the Holy Knight's body went limp. Najin casually flung the Holy Knight aside with a flick and looked at the remaining two Holy Knights.
They shouted battle cries and charged Najin.
That movement too was too fast for Berlo's eyes to follow······.
But it seemed not so to Najin's eyes.
Light flashed. Berlo could not understand what happened in the two or three flashes of light. Merely that when light flashed once, both Holy Knights' arms were severed; when it flashed twice, both their weapons shattered; and the moment light flashed a third time······.
KWAAAAAAAAAANG!
With a roar both of them were smashed into the ground. To Berlo, who had missed the intermediate steps, it all felt grotesque. A scene with not a shred of realism.
Knights called top-tier even within the Church.
Powerhouses who could easily subdue ten fighters of Berlo's own caliber if they charged—such powerhouses were smashed without even getting to use their strength once. Looking at the Holy Knights convulsing limply on the floor, or clutching severed or broken arms and screaming until they fainted, Berlo felt terror.
Knights with resistance to pain and torture—such knights screaming like children before fainting.
Gulp.
Berlo swallowed dryly. His upper and lower teeth kept clacking together.
"······."
Having smashed all five Holy Knights, Najin turned his head. That gaze was aimed precisely at Berlo.
"U-Uwaaaaaaagh!"
The moment their eyes met, Berlo screamed and spun around. He began to run with his back turned. His head knew the flight was meaningless, but his instincts made him flee.
Of course that flight did not last long.
With a soft swish.
Something brushed past Berlo's leg. In that instant Berlo toppled to the ground. He realized his ankle had been half-severed. A stinging pain climbed his spine, but terror outpaced the pain by a step.
"Hah, hah!"
Berlo stretched out his hands and crawled across the ground. Trying to get away from the footsteps coming from behind. But no matter how he crawled, the sound did not recede. It drew closer.
Then, with a soft thud.
The footsteps stopped right beside Berlo.
"Berlo."
A voice came from behind Berlo. Sprawled on the ground and crawling, Berlo could not turn his head. He was too afraid even to meet those eyes.
"Your name is Berlo, correct?"
Berlo reflexively shook his head. As if denying it was him. Without a word Najin reached out and tore off the necklace Berlo wore around his neck.
A badge hung from the necklace.
A badge proving he was a Holy Knight.
Reading the name Berlo written on the badge, Najin said shortly.
"That's right. Berlo."
As Berlo's teeth clacked, weight pressed down on his spine. With a firm press, Najin planted his foot on Berlo's back and spoke.
"Do you know the names Ivan and Oppen?"
He did. They were men Berlo had killed with his own hands. He tried to answer something, but as if he had not spoken expecting an answer, Najin continued.
"Those two are my benefactors, and my masters as well. Meaning I have a duty to avenge them."
With a soft shiiing.
A chilling sword-cry rang out.
"From now on, I'm going to cut off both your arms. I'll gouge out both your eyes, and with only your life left clinging, I'll personally bury you among the corpses in that landfill."
It was what he had done to Ivan, and to Oppen. Trembling with terror, Berlo screamed.
"I only did as I was ordered from above······!"
"I know."
Najin cut off Berlo's excuse.
"You're next after Archbishop Orlan. After that, the Lighthouse, the main god of the Holy Light Church."
Najin extended his sword.
"Everything the Holy Light Church was plotting, your schemes, what Archbishop Orlan was preparing, the traps and methods you cooked up in league with those demon bastards I'll chew to death—every last bit of it······."
Sword aura that suppressed cutting power and maximized only repulsive force.
Najin slowly brought the sword sheathed in that aura to Berlo's shoulder.
"I'll smash it all. Without leaving a single scrap."
The repulsive force of sword aura from a Najin nearing the transcendent was nothing a human body could endure. It was not hard to predict what would happen when sword aura that could crumple even steel clad in aura touched a human body.
GRIND, GRRRRRRRIND!
Flesh was pushed aside from Berlo's shoulder. Skin tore; muscle and bone were shoved out and began to shatter. Najin did not sever Berlo's arm in one go. He pushed the sword in slowly, leisurely.
He simply had not done it until now.
Najin knew full well how to inflict pain on a human.
"——————!"
Berlo let out a monstrous scream. The torture resistance he had trained for as a knight, the methods of not screaming—none of it helped in the slightest here. Under pain beyond imagination Berlo thrashed, but the foot crushing his back kept him from escaping.
One arm fell away.
Berlo frothed at the mouth, making gurgling sounds, and fainted, but Najin would not let him stay unconscious. He thrust his sword toward Berlo's other arm.
"I don't know if any faith remains in you."
At the renewed pain Berlo's eyes snapped open. To Berlo, eyes bloodshot and bulging as he screamed, Najin said.
"If any remains, pray to your god."
And tell him.
That day, the one you tried to bury has returned.
That this time, I'm the one who will bury you.