Chapter 465: Proof of Existence (53)
Chapter 465: Proof of Existence (53)
Was he a Fox Fiend?
I hurriedly shook off the tail and tried to thrust my sword once more.
It was only a momentary opening. There was still a chance to catch Yuren.
Or so I thought.
In the blink of an eye, Yuren’s hand was already gripping his sword again. His movements looked as if he were living in a world of accelerated time. By my calculations, his sword shouldn't have fallen back into his hand that quickly.
My bewildered eyes darted toward my arm. Before I knew it, the Gray Lesion had spread considerably.
My arm was floating in a pocket of slow time. It was moving at a speed that was cruelly sluggish.
That subtle time difference completely flipped the fates of Yuren and me.
Thwack! A blade, shot like a bolt of light, pierced my remaining shoulder. As my posture crumbled, Yuren’s kick slammed directly into my solar plexus.
Gurgle. I felt the injuries I had barely suppressed flare up again, accompanied by a surge of blood.
I wanted to curse. But the speed at which my body was slowing down was faster than my thoughts.
The Gray Lesion spread even more rapidly.
Every time our blades crossed, my body turned gray, as if I were becoming a stone statue. Eventually, even Yuren clicked his tongue.
"……Ian, I told you."
Thud. Even when Yuren’s foot kicked my abdomen, I didn't feel much pain. My body, unable to withstand the momentum, simply staggered back of its own accord.
Huff, huff.
Cold sweat poured down, obscuring my vision. I gnashed my teeth, but my body refused to listen.
"Anything struck by my sword gradually slows down."
With a strained groan, I managed to raise my sword toward the sky. But before I could bring it down, Yuren’s blade sliced through my flank.
Blood trickled down.
Finally, my knees buckled. I had to cover the wound with my hand to keep my entrails from spilling out.
"There are no exceptions. Not even once. This is the power the Evil God grants."
Yuren deliberately lowered his stance to meet my eyes. His gaze was sunken with absolute seriousness.
"Ian, are you still looking for God?"
"You… son of a bitch…."
"In a broad sense, you're right. Foxes are canines, after all."
Even hearing that mockery, I could do nothing but groan.
I wanted to reach into my coat and pull out a healing potion. I needed to at least perform emergency first aid to stand a chance against him.
But there was no way Yuren would allow that.
Just then, a familiar scream pierced my ears.
"……Stop it!"
A trembling voice. Both Yuren’s eyes and mine naturally turned toward the source.
There stood the Saintess, consumed by terror, her eyes shaking. She looked more panicked and out of her mind than ever before.
"Th-that’s enough… Don't kill Ian. I… I was your goal anyway, wasn't I?!"
It was a desperate plea made without any basis.
If the Dark Cult could eliminate me while capturing the Saintess, they would welcome it with open arms. I didn't harbor any expectations.
I simply held my breath as much as possible, waiting for an opening.
However, Yuren surprisingly showed interest in the Saintess’s proposal. He let out a curious "Hmm" and glanced over me.
It was the eye of a beast hiding a scheme.
"Well, if my dear sister insists……."
Yuren sighed and rummaged through his clothes. Soon, a blood-red sphere was pulled out in his hand.
Realizing what it was, a curse escaped my lips.
"You… crazy bastard!"
"It’s Blood Essence."
Yuren ignored me completely and tossed the Blood Essence toward the Saintess. His aim was so precise that even the bound Saintess could catch it.
The Saintess’s expression went blank as she held the Blood Essence.
"The restraints are sealing your divine power, but with Blood Essence, it’s a different story. Don't you want to save Ian?"
"B-but this is……."
"Yes, it’s an item made by squeezing out the souls of orphans."
Yuren’s answer was refreshingly blunt.
A loathsome smile played on his lips.
"But so what? It’s a sacrifice you’ve used several times already. I think it’s a small price to pay for Ian’s life."
"Saintess, don't listen to his nonsense……!"
"Or would you rather offer a prayer to God?"
Yuren added with a sneer.
"Are you still afraid of the Heavenly God? That pathetic God has no interest in us! No matter how much you pray, no answer ever comes back. In that case, is it wrong to seek the salvation right in front of your eyes?"
The Saintess looked as if she couldn't bear the weight of the Blood Essence resting on her palm.
Her hands trembled, her eyes shook wildly, and she breathed heavily, swallowing hard.
Anyone could see she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
At this rate, it wouldn't be strange no matter what choice she made. Taking advantage of the moment Yuren let his guard down, I squeezed out the last of my strength.
A sword was too slow.
The shorter the weapon, the easier it was to surprise an opponent at close range.
Fortunately, I had one more suitable weapon.
Straightening my bent knees like a reflex, my body sprang up like a coil. A hand axe was already gripped in my hand.
Did he not expect me to still have the will to resist?
Yuren’s eyes widened as he stepped back. His sword instinctively shot out, aiming for my heart.
It wasn't particularly fast. It was a check, hoping I would change my trajectory midway.
Of course, I had no intention of playing along.
Splat! Blood sprayed.
The hand axe, buried deep into Yuren’s cartilage, trembled. It was because the tremors in my arm had transferred to it.
And the silver blade pierced through my heart.
Bloody froth leaked through my clenched teeth, and Yuren’s expression contorted with pain and shock.
"You… madman……!"
"Ian!"
With the Saintess’s piercing cry as the last thing I heard, my body collapsed onto the ground.
Blood flowed endlessly from the hole in my chest where the sword had been withdrawn. Perhaps because I had pushed myself too hard, my consciousness was fading.
It’s blurry. Everything is blurry.
I could hear the Saintess wailing in the distance.
Looking down at my fallen form, Yuren spoke in a tone of disbelief.
"Ian, you really need to learn how to give up……."
Give up?
What, and how exactly?
Just as my consciousness was drifting away.
"……You really need to learn how to give up."
My mind snapped back to alertness, and my vision suddenly cleared.
It was a slope.
Moonlight poured down, cutting through the dark veil of night. I was sitting on the slope, trying once again to persuade the woman beside me, who wore a disgruntled expression.
"If the commander stays on the front lines, how can the soldiers retreat with peace of mind? Your existence is more important than hundreds or thousands of commoners……."
"It’s my choice."
Pouting her lips, the woman made it very clear she was upset.
It was a kind of playfulness. A cute signal for me to acknowledge her feelings, but unlike before, I had no intention of falling for her tricks.
"Then you want me to just watch as tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of people die and get hurt? I can't do that."
"We are at war."
Trying to calm my agitation, I continued in a firm tone.
"To win, you must know what to discard. We must focus on what’s necessary first, and worry about the rest later……!"
"Is that what you think?"
That short counter-question silenced me.
Her pale pink eyes were staring intently at me. As if she were trying to dig into my inner thoughts.
When no answer came despite the wait, the woman slowly stood up.
"Do you see the plains over there?"
"……Of course I do. It’s our main battlefield."
"What about the 'Flesh Nests' filling those plains?"
It was a comment whose intent was hard to grasp.
When I remained silent, the woman wore a very lonely expression.
"It was a few years ago. I went to volunteer at an orphanage. There, orphans were disappearing one by one."
"And?"
"Of course, the orphans weighed on my mind. But at the time, I was completely preoccupied with the political struggle against Archbishop Aindel. I thought if I could just take the initiative, I could help thousands of people instead of just a few orphans……."
The woman looked down with a bitter smile.
She looked like a sinner.
"The result is right before my eyes. The missing orphans became Flesh Seeds, and even more orphans were kidnapped… and now, the very people I wanted to save have all become monsters aiming for my throat."
"……It’s not your fault."
"Then whose is it?"
The eyes that met my consolation were filled with pure questioning.
She didn't seem to intend to mock or blame me. That was why I found it even harder to speak.
Whose fault was it?
I didn't know either.
Why the world had turned out like this, why the war showed no signs of improving despite so many deaths.
If there were someone who knew the answer, I felt like I would grab them by the collar and demand to know.
While I was lost in silence, the woman’s eyes seemed to gather the stars from the night sky.
"Ian, have you ever resented God?"
Another question with no answer.
Actually, what I wanted to say was obvious. Wouldn't anyone living in this era give a similar answer?
Do I resent God?
Of course I do. How could I not?
I had to force down the voice rising in my throat. No matter what, I couldn't say something so blasphemous in front of a member of the clergy.
But the words I wanted to say came from an unexpected place.
"I have."
Since it was hardly something a member of the clergy should say, my bewildered eyes turned toward her.