Saint Khtun's First Sortie
Saint Khtun's first sortie.
Those present at this historic occasion were as follows.
First, Bilheim and Ren.
"Father, I'll be off then."
"Yes. Sir Ren, look after him as well."
"Yes, Baron."
Upon word that a demon cluster had been discovered within the territory, Bilheim geared up without asking twice.
And that wasn't all.
Lined up behind him stood Sir Valt and twenty standing troops, plus Zeke and Milo — knight-class powerhouses in their own right!
It was nothing short of Falaon's dream team. With a lineup like this, the likes of Viscount Hadion wouldn't stand a chance.
And on top of that…
"I'll go as well. I, James… cannot neglect my calling."
"I shall assist you, Brother James."
Professional demon hunter Brother James and Myuhan too!
I had no idea what kind of performance those two would put on, but given that hunting demons was their livelihood, my expectations were high.
Anyway.
"Khtun, take care of yourself out there."
"Yes, Father."
"Bilheim, look after Khtun."
"Yes."
We left the castle with Father and Stepmother Hella seeing us off.
Destination: the village of Hamstone on the outskirts of Falaon territory.
Steel yourself. This will be different from anything before.
Yes, Ancestor.
Honestly, I wasn't worried.
With this composition, I was confident we could handle not just a demon but a demon's grandfather if one showed up.
After a full day of forced march, we arrived at Hamstone village.
"Brother James! Over here! Here!"
We managed to meet the "scout" Myuhan had mentioned.
Something felt off, though.
"Brother Keton, you're safe!"
"Yes, I've been waiting. So now, if you would just… dieeeeeee—!"
That lunatic!
Scout Keton's eyes rolled back as he lunged. The razor-edged dagger in his hand was about to pierce Brother James's heart when—
"His skull—!"
"Gaaah!"
The Absolute Shield Kracion shot from my fingertips!
You crazy bastard, you're throwing that?!
Is that really what matters right now?
Brother James almost died… no. Wait. Looking again, Brother James was never going to die.
Why?
…Because before my shield Kracion could even crack Scout Keton's skull, Brother James's mace had already caved the man's head in.
So this is a demon hunter.
He was no ordinary man, that was for sure.
Still—
"What on earth just happened?"
At my question, Brother James, who had been examining Scout Keton's condition, spoke.
"It would seem… he fell victim to demonic magic."
"Demonic magic?"
"Yes. Some form of mental domination, from the looks of it."
Something was going on.
Something we didn't know about.
We postponed entering Hamstone village for the moment and held a strategy meeting.
Brother James was the first to speak.
"There's no doubt. This wicked aura is unquestionably that of a demon."
Well. That was a problem.
Because if a seasoned demon hunter and capable scout like Keton had been compromised, it meant the residents of Hamstone village were almost certainly not safe either.
So what now?
Just walk in like this?
Too dangerous.
But we also couldn't simply withdraw without knowing what had become of the villagers.
"Hmm."
Even the experienced Sir Valt hesitated to decide, and that was when Bilheim turned to me.
"Little brother."
"Yes, Brother."
"What do you want to do?"
"Pardon?"
Why was he asking me?
I tilted my head for a moment, then opened my mouth without much thought.
"This Khtun, if it were up to me, would storm into Hamstone village right now, slaughter the demons, and save the residents… but I suppose that's not realistic."
"Hmm."
Bilheim seemed to ponder my words for a moment, then looked at Ren.
"Ren. Get ready."
"Right now, like this?"
"Yes."
What was he planning?
As everyone watched with one shared mind, Ren began his incantation.
At the same time, with a strange hum, countless magic circles rose into the air around him!
Is that madman—?
Was he about to blow Hamstone village off the map?
No. That wasn't it.
…A curse mage, was he?
A curse mage?
Yes. That's curse magic. And a considerable level of it, at that.
…Didn't that make this an even bigger problem?
I fretted over whether I ought to crack Ren's skull right then and there, fidgeting with the Absolute Shield Kracion.
And then it happened.
Tsz, tszzzzz—!
Magic circles large and small meshed together like the cogs of a gear, and then—
Krrrick! Krik!
With a bone-chilling scrape of friction, the magic circles spun madly!
That vast magical machine… well, I wasn't sure whether "machine" was the right word for a magic circle, but to my eyes it was a single enormous design.
And the moment that design began to operate—
Tzuung!
A wave of light spread outward with a strange resonant tone!
…And that was it.
It vanished in an instant.
The magic circles that had been running behind Ren, the strange aura — all of it.
What?
What just happened?
"Ren. Results?"
"One moment."
Ren closed his eyes, ran some kind of calculation, then spoke.
"Found them. Of three hundred twenty-four total targets, twelve are unaffected by the curse."
"Link them."
"You sure? They are demons, after all."
"It's fine."
"Alright, then."
Eyes still closed, Ren chanted again.
Soon a set of "magic-circle gears" similar to before — though smaller in scale — assembled, and the spell was cast.
Tzuung—!
Twenty-four curses shot from the magic circles.
Twelve of them streaked toward the village; the remaining twelve sank into Bilheim.
"Done. Can you sense them?"
"Yes. I'll be back shortly."
With that, Bilheim crouched low.
And immediately after—
BOOM!
Bilheim's form shot forward like a cannonball!
…What the hell.
In less than five minutes, the whole sequence of events left me blinking in pure bewilderment.
I had no idea what had just happened.
I looked around for answers, but the others were just as dumbfounded.
"What is this…"
"Huh."
Sir Valt, of course — and even Myuhan, a demon hunter who should have been thoroughly seasoned at this sort of thing.
Brother James alone seemed to have grasped something; his face had gone rigid, but it wasn't the atmosphere for questions.
So I just kept blinking, reading the room, when the Ancestor spoke.
I'll give him this.
Give him what, exactly?
Your brother is a madman.
Out of nowhere?
I still had no idea what was going on and could only tilt my head, until the Ancestor — apparently fed up with my confusion — kindly explained.
In short, it went like this.
First:
Ren's first curse.
That had been a means of sorting "villagers" from "demons."
A very weak curse, ineffective against demons but applicable to the villagers, scattered across the entire village.
Once the demons had been identified that way…
The second curse.
He'd cast a curse to feed their locations to Bilheim.
If I saw it correctly, it was a "sensory sharing" curse. Literally linking the senses of separate targets… which means each can know the other's position.
Just as you know where your own arm is without consciously thinking about it, those whose senses are shared can know each other's locations.
In other words, Bilheim had taken a curse into his own body for the sake of hunting demons.
Hearing that much, I understood why the Ancestor had so highly praised Bilheim as a "madman."
If the Ancestor was right…
That means he'd even share the sensation of cutting demons down?
Was that even possible?
I was staring blankly at Hamstone village, still reeling from the shock, when—
BOOM, KRRUNG— CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
A noise like some rampaging beast reached us, and then—
Slash! Thud!
The moment a giant demon's head dropped in front of us, I made a decision.
For real. Absolutely. Under no circumstances am I going to act up.
I, who had resolved to become a proper fantasy breed of man — Saint Khtun — made a decision.
Once more, I would engrave the spirit and teachings of K-Confucianism deep into this heart of mine.
On one hand, I wondered if Saint Khtun's historic first sortie was ending this anticlimactically… but good was good, so I chose to feel glad rather than disappointed.
And then it happened.
Descendant.
Yes, Ancestor.
The air around us feels wrong. Prepare yourself.
Pardon?
I tilted my head, and then—
Kiriik, kyaek—
KAAAAAK!
Strange cries rose from the trembling underbrush.
Brother James shouted.
"Demons!"
Demons!
And not one or two of them.
The entire forest seemed to be stirring — dozens? Hundreds, maybe? I didn't know. Counting them in this situation hardly mattered.
But my heart was hammering.
Demons—!
These damn, godforsaken demons!
"All forces! Prepare for battle—!"
"Sir!"
At Sir Valt's cry, the soldiers took formation. Brother James and the demon hunter Myuhan gripped their weapons as well.
And then—
KYEEEEEEK—!
Watching the demons burst from the underbrush, I clenched my teeth.
Shit. I was terrified.
Full-blown panic!
So I roared.
The battle had begun.
Even amid the abruptly started battle, Khtun's party responded with composure.
The soldiers locked into formation and held off the demons' assault, while Knight Valt directed the troops and shored up collapsing lines.
Priest James and the demon hunter Myuhan distinguished themselves as well.
But—
"…"
What drew the gaze of "Apostate Rohan" was a single boy.
Valhalla.
A necromancer who had only just undergone his Blood Awakening Ceremony, shouting an unintelligible name to bury his fear.
The second son of Falaon, is it.
It had to be.
There was only one necromancer in Falaon territory, and it was that boy.
But those undead of his were peculiar.
They carried holy power?
"It's almost like looking at you in your pure days. Wouldn't you say?"
"…Ferhan."
The owner of that seductive voice was none other than the demon Ferhan.
He was a gentleman in a perfectly settled black tailcoat, yet his pupils were reversed — black and white inverted.
Those reversed eyes fixed on the young necromancer as he continued.
"A risk factor, no doubt. Wouldn't you agree."
"Who knows."
"Still clinging to that scrap of conscience, are you? From where I stand, he's a far greater variable than Falaon's monster Bilheim or the Adversary Ren."
"…"
Rohan did not answer.
There was no need to answer.
Yet the demon Ferhan whispered again into his ear.
"Want to kill him? Or corrupting him wouldn't be so bad either. Just as I once did to you. Or is it longing? For the life of young Rohan — pure, full of dreams, beloved by God?"
"This is the path I chose."
"Not corruption, then?"
"That's right."
"Haha. I suppose that's possible."
The demon Ferhan laughed with genuine amusement.
Well — Rohan had earned the right.
Had some lesser creature spouted such words, Ferhan would have put them in their place. But this one had earned it.
Why wouldn't he?
At the tender age of fifteen he had proven two miracles and been praised by every order as a vessel destined to become the saint of the age.
And—
That soul of his… is spotlessly clear and clean.
Even now, in this very moment, Rohan's soul was pure.
Not a corrupted soul of black and white messily tangled together, but a jewel that glittered in pure, unadulterated black.
"So. What will you do."
"Simply as planned."
"Kill Bilheim and Ren, and that will be the end of it?"
"Yes."
"Well, that alone should be enough to become an Apostle. Though I doubt it'll be as easy as it sounds. Both the monster and the Adversary are exceeding expectations… and the cards you've prepared will be hard-pressed just dealing with those two— haha. Yes, I'll stop there."
Ferhan smiled and withdrew under Rohan's steady stare.
Rohan, without further comment, turned his gaze back to the battlefield.
But certainly—
It does look like some overexertion will be necessary.
There were two variables.
Priest James, and Khtun.
And so he decided to push a little harder.
Just as the demon had said — to eliminate the dangerous variables.