Chapter 177: Nightmare (13)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 177: Nightmare (13)
“Not the Hero? What does that even mean…”
“Hey! Is this any time to be swayed by such words? The Hero has committed treason. Arrest him at once!”
“A-Arrest him? You mean us? Is that even possible?!”
“Damn it, is this the time to debate whether it's possible? His Majesty the Emperor has been assassinated! If we don't capture him, it's all our necks!”
At the Commander of the Royal Guard's words, the stunned knights came to their senses and steeled their resolve. In contrast, the Paladins guarding the Pope remained calm, exuding an unshaken aura.
Han Jisu stopped just short of the two Paladins' range and asked the Pope.
“The Commander of your temple's Paladins is dead. And yet you can smile?”
“Oh, it is a misunderstanding, Hero. Of course, my heart aches..! We have lost a key figure in our church. How could my heart not ache? However, in our faith, death is also a blessing.”
“A blessing…? Death is a blessing?”
“That is correct. She sacrificed her life for a holy mission. She will surely return to Lady Meria's embrace. That is something anyone in our church would rejoice over!”
“Is that so? Then how about you go to Meria's embrace as well?”
“Wh-What?!”
“You said it’s something anyone in the Church of Meria would rejoice over, didn't you? As the head of the church, you would be even more overjoyed, no?”
Han Jisu took a step forward. Shing. A Paladin drew his sword and moved to strike Han Jisu's neck.
“..!”
But the Paladin's sword couldn't even pierce Han Jisu's skin.
‘The sword has no effect…?’
He might be the Hero, but did it make sense for him to block a sword strike just by tensing his neck?
While the Paladin and the other knights stared in shock, Han Jisu grabbed the blade pressing against his neck. When he tightened his grip, the steel sword shattered as easily as glass.
The Paladin immediately dropped the hilt and reached for the mace at his side.
“…Hero. Please, stop. You have already committed an irreversible sin. This is not what Lady Ash would have want— Keoheok..!”
The Paladin, with the Holy Sword embedded in his chest, staggered.
“Don't you dare say Ash's name in front of me.”
Kicking the Paladin away to pull the Holy Sword free, Han Jisu raised it toward the Pope. The Pope shielded himself with his arms and cried out desperately.
“W-Wait! What is it you want? Just tell me. Anything I can do, I’ll—”
Slice.
The Holy Sword drew a clean, diagonal line. A thin red line appeared on the Pope's massive body, and then blood began to stream down.
“Ah… Aah…”
That was the Pope's final cry. Slump. His upper body, split diagonally, slid to the floor.
-Kya, kyaaaaak!
Someone screamed.
With that, the silent banquet hall erupted into chaos.
-The Hero's gone mad!
-Run!!
The nobles scrambled toward the banquet hall entrance, desperate to survive the crazed Hero.
The dancers and bards tried to flee with them, but—
-Where do you think you're going, you filth!
-Kyaak!
As they got too close to the nobles, they were mercilessly cut down by their escort knights.
Having pushed aside the commoners, the nobles safely reached the entrance. But they could not leave the hall.
-What? Why aren't the people in front moving?!
-It's blocked!
-What?
-Something transparent is blocking the entrance! A barrier… yes, a barrier has been cast!
-If it's a barrier, just break it!
The nobles ordered their knights to destroy the barrier. Clang! The knights' aura-infused swords struck the barrier. But it didn't show so much as a crack, let alone shatter.
“Out of the way!”
The Commander of the Royal Guard, who had arrived late, struck the barrier with all his might. The result was the same. The barrier remained intact, and no one could get out.
Gritting his teeth, the Commander shouted at the Hero.
“Hero, don't tell me this is your doing?”
Instead of answering, Han Jisu cut the throat of the bard who had just been grinning about making a song of his companion's death. The Commander of the Imperial Royal Guard frowned and ordered the knights under his command.
“Permission to kill. Stop the Hero at once!”
The subordinates obeyed their superior's command. With high-quality Orichalcum swords in their right hands, black iron shields in their left, and Adamantium armor on their bodies, the Empire's elite knights charged toward the lone Hero.
A flash of steel shot toward his neck.
Han Jisu leaned his head back to dodge it, then moved the Holy Sword. Moving as smoothly as flowing water, the Holy Sword slipped between the knight's helmet and armor to slice his neck.
Without pausing, he spun his body and cut down two approaching knights, armor and all. Through the gap between the knights' separating upper and lower bodies, the horrified eyes of the other knights could be seen.
Han Jisu pressed forward without stopping.
He pierced through shields, shattered swords, and sliced through armor. Soon, there was no one left to block his path.
A cold sweat trickled down the back of the Royal Guard Commander's neck.
“…What is it that you want?”
“The ones who laughed earlier. Just give them to me.”
“The people you demand, aside from a few commoners, are high-ranking nobles who support the Empire. To harm them is to make an enemy of all humanity. Are you truly okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
An answer without a hint of hesitation.
His pride wounded by the Hero's confidence that he didn't even fear the Empire, the Royal Guard Commander's face twisted in anger as he aimed his sword at the Hero.
In return, he met a gruesome death.
*
In the end, Han Jisu killed everyone who had laughed at his companion's death, regardless of their status. Conversely, he didn't lay a single finger on those who hadn't laughed and hadn't attacked him.
When he finished his work and stepped outside, he was met by the Imperial Elite Knight Order stationed at the palace.
They charged the traitor who dared raise a sword against the Empire, not sparing their own lives, but it was useless.
Even when he was a half-measure without the Holy Sword, he had torn through battlefields alone. Now that he had obtained the Holy Sword and become the complete Hero, nothing could stand in his way.
Not the Imperial Elite Knight Order.
Not the Imperial Elite Soldiers.
Not the Paladins.
All were defeated.
After clearing everything in his path, the Hero emerged from the city, but once he was out, he felt lost.
Because for him, who had quit being the Hero, there was nowhere to return to.
Sitting blankly on a rock and staring at the sky, Han Jisu remembered the letter he had tucked away.
The letter a child named Yeni had given him when he saved her village from the monsters of the Black Mushroom Forest.
“…Should I go to that village?”
He recalled the expressions on the villagers' faces when he had stayed there. They'd probably welcome him back with open arms.
“Yes, let's do that.”
It's a village with wide fields, so they can be self-sufficient. All I have to do is drive away any annoying monsters or Demon Army soldiers. Then I can live a normal life.
The Demon King probably wouldn't bother with a Hero living in seclusion.
Yes. That would be better.
Let's rest, now.
With that in mind, Han Jisu headed for the Black Mushroom Village, only to find it in ruins. Buildings were burned to ash or collapsed. Corpses, half-eaten by beasts, were strewn across the road, and another was tied to a post.
The body on the post was riddled with arrows—a sign that captured people had been used for target practice.
Among them was a familiar face.
Han Jisu approached the familiar face tied to the post. He lifted the head that hung limply downward and gently brushed the blood-matted hair to the side.
The face of the child who had shyly handed him the letter, the child who would surely have grown into a beautiful woman, was missing its pupils.
Below the two empty, abyss-dark eye sockets were streaks of bloody tears.
“…”
Han Jisu let go of her body and walked through the village, searching for a shovel. Fortunately, he found a worn one in the storage of the inn where he had stayed before.
Shovel in hand, he left the village and began to dig in a wide, open field.
Once a pit large enough to bury one person was complete, he dug a new one.
One. Two. Three.
The number of pits grew endlessly.
Only when the hundredth pit was finished did he put down the shovel.
He returned to the village and brought back the child's body. After pulling out the arrows embedded in her, he closed her eyelids and gently placed her in the first pit. Then he picked up the shovel again and began to fill the grave with dirt.
After shoveling in enough dirt to form a small mound where the pit had been, he returned to the village, brought a new body, and placed it in the next pit.
From then on, it was a repetition of the same act.
Recover a body, place it in a pit, and bury it.
Eventually, the hundred pits he had first dug were not enough, and he had to dig more.
By the time he had recovered all one hundred and twenty-seven bodies, the sun had already set, and moonlight ruled the sky.
His work finished, he took out the letter from his pocket and unfolded it. The blood on his hands smeared the paper, but he paid it no mind and read the contents.
As expected, the scrawl was still difficult to read.
But for that very reason, the one neatly written word stood out.
-Thank you.
How much effort must the little girl, who had never even learned to write, have put in to write that single word? Drip. Drip. Droplets fell, soaking the letter. It wasn't rain.
After staring at the letter for a long time, he bit his trembling lip and carefully tucked it back into his pocket.
That day, he returned to the battlefield.