Chapter 274
Chapter 274
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Popendal's Scabbard
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Yeah.
Let's say that's possible.
Ink-black armor forged from the power of a demon sword.
A demon swordsman completely devoured by it.
We could even accept them claiming he wasn't under the demon sword's control.
It was a flimsy excuse, but plenty good enough as a stopgap to smooth things over.
But—
The source of this pathetic groan laced with agony... was supposed to be the demon sword?
"Hm..."
The black-clad group.
The man at their forefront let out a soft groan.
He was already convinced the elves had ties to the demon sword.
Otherwise, there'd be no reason for them to interfere with the group confronting the demon swordsman.
In that situation, their focus was on the "degree."
How deeply were they connected to the demon sword?
And how far gone were they in their obsession with it?
"A pack of mad elves."
That was the man's conclusion.
It wasn't sarcasm or mockery anymore.
The elves' response was too absurd to pass as an excuse to defuse the situation, and too pathetic to serve as a joke to lower their guards.
To begin with, were elves the type to crack jokes with strangers so brazenly?
Or to calmly attempt conversation?
Based on various evidence, the man reached one conclusion.
"Unhinged elves. Who knows what they'll do—everyone, stay on high alert!"
The man issued orders to his group.
In truth, they had already shifted to maximum alert before he even spoke.
"Has it lost its mind under the demon sword's power...!?"
"That emotionless expression. And now deranged nonsense. It's clear."
"If it can't even claim sanity, it doesn't seem like total domination—"
Behavior defending the demon sword.
On top of that, this dubious mental state(?)
Judging from the elf's condition, it was easy to infer she wasn't in her right mind!
"We. Intend. To seal. The demon sword. Now. Interfere. And we'll. Treat you. As enemies. Too."
The lead man spoke slowly, emphasizing each word with his sword.
His attitude was like persuading a dim-witted beast.
"Ah...!"
Caroer squeezed her eyes shut.
'How did I end up getting treated like this...!'
That was what troubled her most right now.
She understood the humans' reactions.
She could see why they were responding this way, treating her like a beast dominated by the demon sword.
If their positions were reversed, she would have reacted the same!
The high elf acknowledged her own arrogance.
Her hubris as a Third, thinking she could resolve matters related to him!
"Ri, Rishir—..."
The high elf called his name amid intense vertigo.
A bitter lesson learned in that brief time.
Only he could salvage this chaotic mess.
At that moment.
The demon swordsman addressed the high elf.
"They're starting to communicate!"
As the elf and demon swordsman began conversing, their tension peaked.
The black-clad group focused every nerve on the exchange.
What they didn't know.
Was that the demon swordsman's voice—the ominous entity's—was trembling like a fawn seeking its mother.
"...!"
The elves' expressions stiffened awkwardly.
How was that a demon sword recklessly swinging life around?
It was a pitiful child encountering a kind neighbor amid domestic abuse.
Ah!
A huge stir rippled through the black-clad group.
The ink-black armor spat out a man.
The demon sword's domination had ended—for now.
"What the—"
They knew the demon sword's viciousness well.
That ominous object—
No, that ominous being—wielded the life in its grasp until it literally snapped.
For it to release its host before total destruction.
Extremely rare.
"Delron, look...!"
"...!!!"
But the moment they checked the host's condition, they understood immediately.
Splat!
Splat!
The instant the man was freed from the armor.
A massive pool of blood pooled in the helmet gushed out, soaking the surrounding grass.
"Kuhk...!"
The blood's source was obvious.
The man's eyes regained light, and he immediately vomited blood from his mouth.
Moreover, bloodstains ran from his eye sockets to his jaw in multiple streaks.
Probably what it looked like if blood poured from every facial orifice?
"What horrific...!!!"
Delron, the group's leader, was stunned.
He'd seen many victims sacrificed to demon swords, but never in such a gruesome state.
"Damn it, you cursed thing!!! What the hell do you take humans for!!!"
Delron yelled, unwittingly staggering back.
Fearful that the ink-black sword on the ground might suddenly lunge at him!
That it might reduce him to the same state as that man!
"Hey! Snap out of it!!! The demon sword might try dominating you again any second!!! Get away from it now!!! We'll cover you!!! Can you hear me!?"
"..."
Light slowly returned to the man's pupils.
"..."
The first action of the man who regained his senses.
Retracting the demon sword.
He reached out toward the ink-black blade on the ground.
"No!!!"
"...!"
Delron poured force into his voice.
The shout startled even Lunadien and Caroer, fully awakening the dazed man's mind.
The man's gaze, pinned by the demon sword, turned to Delron.
"Ooh...!!!"
Delron's group exclaimed in admiration.
Demon sword domination.
To reclaim the self while its influence lingered!
"So that's it—that's why—"
They vaguely understood.
The reason the man escaped the demon sword's control!
Unlike his youthful appearance, the man possessed astonishing mental fortitude.
"What... happened...?"
The man spoke as if just woken from sleep.
Delron's group saw this as their last chance to save him from the demon sword.
Delron checked the man's state once more.
He had nearly drowned in his own blood yet still clung to the demon sword.
'Addicted to its power...!'
The euphoria from the demon sword's power overriding the pain.
A common symptom in demon swordsmen, ultimately leading them to ruin.
'He probably doesn't even realize his own condition right now.'
"Delron! What do we do!? Should we subdue him before he grabs the demon sword again!?"
Delron shook his head.
"No! This momentary weakening of the domination might be our last shot! He needs to recognize his state and abandon the demon sword of his own will!"
Delron's voice rose with fervor as he spoke.
"We might even discover how to break demon sword domination."
"...!"
A spark lit in their eyes.
They, who positioned themselves as adversaries to demon swords, felt hope in the man's state.
"Hey! What's your name!?"
"...Rishir."
"Right, Rishir!!! Focus on my voice! Don't let it go! Look down there!"
"Down...?"
Rishir looked down.
Blood from the helmet had overflowed, drenching the area.
"See it!? The foolish thing you've done!?"
"..."
Rishir couldn't comprehend the situation.
He had clearly stepped away from the group, entrusted various things to the demon sword, and rested.
Yet upon opening his eyes, strangers were disrupting his rest.
They said.
Did he see the foolish thing he'd done?
'What... did I do...?'
Forcibly awakened, Rishir's groggy mind struggled to function.
'Ah...!'
Finally, Rishir reached a conclusion.
To reassure the others, he spoke.
"Don't worry! This blood—"
That was the conclusion of Rishir's hazy thinking.
He judged that the black-clad group was acting to protect the weak.
In terms of direction alone, it was correct.
Delron's group was indeed moving to save the weak.
Just a difference in perspective.
"This blood is mine! So don't worry!"
Rishir, already feeling guilty toward the demon sword, said.
No. He made excuses!
About his unavoidable tormenting of the demon sword!
"...?"
Delron's group felt a similar bewilderment as when talking to the elves.
What?
Am I properly grasping the direction of this conversation?
Meanwhile, Rishir picked up the demon sword.
"Right!? It's fine, right!?"
And began prodding the demon sword.
Hey. Hey.
Tell the teacher properly?
If that attitude conveyed such a voice, was it just his imagination?
The demon sword mustered great courage.
She appealed to stop the abuse.
"???????"
The demon sword's earnest plea(?) disarmed them.
The black-clad group relaxed, dropping their guards.
A moment later.
Fully compos mentis, Rishir faced the black-clad group alongside Caroer and the others.
"Sorry about that. The demon sword forcibly woke me, so I was out of it—"
Delron's group's gazes were fixed on his waist area.
The demon sword, nearly losing its mind from injustice and fear.
"Enough. There are others here now, so we'll talk alone later."
"..."
Delron's group, though confused, calmly discussed among themselves.
"So that's how it was."
Eventually.
Having reached their own conclusion, Delron spoke to Rishir's group.
"Sorry. Seems there was some misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
"We are Popendal's Scabbard. Our mission is to recover and seal the abominations plaguing the world."
"Ah, so that's why you approached me?"
"Yes. In tracking the demon sword's power, we made a grave error. We arrived at you and mistook your sword for a demon sword."
That was Delron's group's conclusion.
They saw it as the only way to make sense of the situation.
"Pardon? It is a demon sword, though?"
"A common misconception."
"Pardon?"
"People misunderstand demon swords and misuse the term for any ominous blade."
"I-is that so? Lunadien. Did you know?"
"Who knows. Let's hear the man out first?"
Rishir's group, seriously observing the demon sword, turned their gazes to Delron in unison.
He pulled back his hood, revealing his appearance.
A bald head scarred with burns and all manner of wounds.
"Demon sword. Because of its etymology, people slap the name on any blade with sinister power. In truth, 'demon sword' doesn't just mean an ominous sword."
"Then—"
"Sword's Night."
Delron uttered the dreadful name in a solemn tone, gauging Rishir's reaction.
"..."
Rishir's response was nonchalant.
Unsure how to interpret it, Delron smiled meaningfully and continued.
"The fragments of the ultimate evil that reigned in ancient times. The worst part, shaped like a sword. That's the true essence and meaning of a demon sword. There are only three in the world. Demon Sword: Curse. Demon Sword: Domination. And—"
"Demon Sword: Beast, right?"
"Oh. How did you know?"
"This is it."
"Hahaha! Good joke. Why not call that one on the other side the holy sword of purity?"
Delron pointed to the sword at Rishir's opposite hip.
"Rishir! Please lend us your power!!!"
"?"
Rishir felt as if he'd been enchanted.
The rough-looking man who had been so belligerent moments ago was suddenly kneeling before him.
Delron explained in detail to Rishir.
The horrific atrocities wrought by Demon Sword: Curse.
The perilous pursuits undertaken to contain them all.
Even seasoned mercenaries and adventurers would balk and shake their heads.
"So you're tracking that Demon Sword: Curse—"
Rishir smacked his lips.
Delron got chills.
"Let's move first."
Having gauged(?) Rishir's desires, Caroer invited them to the expedition's campsite.
Delron's group cautiously followed.
Throughout the trek, Delron's gaze stayed fixed on Rishir.
"Delron."
Then.
One woman from the group approached and whispered privately.
"Do you really believe him?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Th-that business about him owning a demon sword and a holy sword."
Ha!
Delron let out a scoff.
His scarred, fierce face twisted menacingly.
"S-sorry! I spoke out of turn! Of course you wouldn't believe such nonsense—"
That was when.
"Rishir!!!"
Far off, a girl from the expedition charged toward Rishir.
"What's this? You're not in that form anymore?"
"A bit tired."
"Ah, right. Staying like that would wear anyone out."
"Yes. The demon sword seemed exhausted, so I'm letting it rest a bit."
"...Ah, the tired one's it?"
Watching from afar, Delron wore a strange expression.
Something seemed off about the girl cozying up to Rishir.
Delron focused and examined her closely.
There it was, clear as day.
The cute little horns sprouting from her head.
Those sharp golden pupils.
"Dra, dra—"
In that instant.
Delron's eyes widened as he bolted toward them.
His subordinates felt enchanted by something.
"Rishir! Who is that lovely young lady!?"
Before they knew it, Delron was fawning over them.
Delron.
Within Popendal's Scabbard, he earned the group's trust through exceptional judgment and mission execution alone.
'Damn it! I don't get what's going on! Time to bare it all!'
And he had made his judgment.