The Holy Sword of Banishing Evil (4)

Even if some unknown creatures had poured their power into me, it wasn't as though anything earth-shattering had changed overnight.

At best, my magic and strength stats had ticked up by a hair.

Where swinging the sword once or twice used to leave me on the verge of blacking out, I figured I could manage as many as five swings now.

Of course, there was also the minor issue of Justitia grumbling that I reeked of monsters — but Justitia had always been a chronic complainer, so I didn't see much point in fretting over it.

"Guess I've finally clawed my way up from rock bottom."

For those reasons, I decided to simply keep an eye on the changes for a while. If nothing catastrophic was happening, a bump in my stats was basically a free gift — and there was no reason to turn down a free gift. Same logic as the Holy Sword Prison those unknown monsters had built for me.

"……."

I leaned against a tree, lost in thought, resting for a short while. Then—

I judged my body recovered enough and pushed myself to my feet.

As I hauled my creaking frame upright, Justitia drifted over as if she'd been waiting for exactly that.

"Planning to move already?"

"Have to. I can't just leave that woman lying there."

Obviously, I meant the hunter I'd stashed beyond the underbrush. She was currently my only lead for getting out of this place. Lose her, and I'd be stuck wandering around on a hopelessly inefficient search for who knew how long.

I started walking on legs heavy with fatigue, and the holy sword bobbing along beside me piped up in a chatty tone.

"By the way — where exactly did you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠learn Teresa's swordsmanship?"

"……."

"It was clumsy, sure, but that was definitely Teresa's blade."

Apparently the trajectory I'd shown her earlier had left an impression. Justitia kept pressing me on how I'd learned the technique.

"I know you're tired, but don't ignore me — answer the question, trash hero."

She even tapped my shoulder with her pommel. I let out a dry laugh and nodded. Fine — my earlier explanation had been long-winded. This time I'd keep it to the essentials.

"I saw your memories in a dream."

"……You looked into my memories?"

"Yeah. Don't know why, but they just came flooding in all of a sudden."

I'd peeked at her memories. Justitia spun in place with a faintly sulky air at the revelation — but only for a moment. She seemed to catch on to the more important point, and her voice took on a grumbling edge.

"Alright, so you stole a look at my memories. But how did you reproduce Teresa's sword?"

She was right. I hadn't merely mimicked the trajectory I'd seen in the dream. I'd recreated her blade — used my magic more efficiently, landed a more powerful strike. And what that meant boiled down to one simple fact.

"I've always been a cram-session specialist."

"……What?"

"Meaning I'm a genius."

Apparently I had a talent for swordsmanship. Even accounting for a good day, copying a knight's technique after seeing it once? Calling myself untalented would have been an insult to myself.

Of course, the holy sword floating in front of me would probably just laugh and ask what kind of genius I thought I was — but at least that was how I saw it.

"……."

I waited for the mockery to come. Instead, Justitia gave me a reaction I hadn't expected at all.

"Honestly… you might be right."

"……?"

"Every now and then, talented people do turn up in this world."

The holy sword — Justitia — had just openly acknowledged my talent. For whatever reason, she was letting my swagger slide.

"That's a surprising reaction."

"What's surprising about it?"

"I figured you'd tell me not to get full of myself over copying something once."

From my perspective, it really was unexpected. The Justitia I'd dealt with these past few days had been stingy with praise. I hadn't thought she'd give me credit for a single good showing.

"I don't think that way."

She had her reasons, of course. An honest explanation slipped from the holy sword's mouth.

"Teresa's sword looks simple, but it's actually incredibly difficult."

"Well… it was a beautiful sword, I'll give you that."

"I'm not saying this just because Teresa was a dear friend of mine. She really was an extraordinary knight."

The blade the knight had swung in that dream — the clean, vivid trajectory the golden-haired woman had drawn — had been genuinely beautiful. Even I'd been briefly captivated by how upright and magnificent that strike was.

"And I copied a sword like that, huh."

"Exactly. So I have no intention of belittling what you managed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pull off, trash hero."

I corrected her.

"I've told you about a hundred times — it's Warden."

"I have no intention of belittling what you managed to pull off, trash Warden."

"Why is 'trash' still attached?"

Justitia seemed to be in a better mood again. At the very least, she clearly saw some hope in me. Even so, she didn't forget to leave me with a short warning.

"That said, you'd better not stop there."

"……."

"If you don't become stronger than Teresa, you'll just end up meeting the same fate she did."

If I couldn't surpass the knight from the dream, I'd walk the same road she had. It was the kind of remark that assumed an eventual clash with the monsters who'd built the Holy Sword Prison.

Just thinking about the monster I ran into earlier — the odds of more of them lurking in other dungeons aren't low.

I couldn't dismiss it as baseless worry. The creature I'd just faced was living proof they existed. Sooner or later, I was going to collide with the monsters that had destroyed Justitia's world.

"Well… for now, I'll do my best too."

If I wanted to survive against them, I'd have to put in the work. I had to get stronger somehow — stronger even than the knight I'd seen in that dream.

"I may never be a real hero, but I'll try in my own way."

Once I got home, I figured I should at least buy a wooden practice sword. Even if it was just a little each day, I intended to start drilling.

The place where I'd first encountered that dangerous monster — the Contaminated Thought Aggregate.

I arrived, moved the unconscious female hunter somewhere safer, and watched her carefully.

She slept quietly, brows furrowed as if trapped in a nightmare, breathing in thin, fragile wisps. The exhaustion from magic depletion still had her locked under.

"Shouldn't she be waking up soon?"

I looked down at the hunter I'd pulled from the brush and sank into thought. Once I got home, what should I tackle first?

Food was the first thing that came to mind. Kimchi stew. Spicy stir-fried pork. A Korean soul-food parade was already shimmering behind my eyes.

"……."

Next came the question of the magic crystals I was carrying. Job-hunting for so long had left my bank account painfully thin. Maybe I should charge half of them into the Holy Sword Prison and sell off the rest.

"Should I pick up some furniture too?"

With whatever money that brought in, I figured I should stock the prison with supplies. Now that I could connect a Simple Gate, the Holy Sword Prison was basically my personal subspace storage. Stashing food and gear there meant I could grab whatever I needed in an emergency. Investing a little didn't sound like a bad idea.

"Haa……."

I was sighing my way through plans for the future when—

A sudden flash of light burst from somewhere far off. And riding that flash, an arrow came screaming straight at me.

"……!"

It happened in an instant. A magic-charged arrow tore toward me at a speed like driving rain — so fast I couldn't even begin to react.

The viciously powerful shot closed to point-blank range—

CLANG—!

Justitia, who'd been nearby, moved. Her blade intercepted the incoming arrow.

"What are you standing around for?"

"Hah……."

A hollow breath slipped from my lips as I watched the arrow ricochet away. I'd nearly died just now. Without Justitia, ending up with a hole somewhere in me wouldn't have been strange at all.

Relieved that the holy sword had covered me, I quietly rose to my feet.

"……."

Some distance away, a group of hunters was approaching. They looked like elites, closing in with purposeful strides. At their head stood a sharp-eyed man carrying a refined bow.

"What's a hunter of your caliber doing in a dungeon like this?"

"……What?"

The hunter in front of me glared and spat out something I couldn't quite parse. Was he asking why a shabby F-rank like me had come to a dungeon like this? Or why a hunter as strong as me had bothered with such a lowly place?

Either way, the archer was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clearly on high alert.

He flicked a glance toward my side, then looked back at me.

"I fired once as a warning, but I have no desire to fight you."

"……."

"I'll apologize for the discourtesy. For now — would you step away from my little sister?"

The woman sleeping beside me. The man pointed at her and called her his sister. Only then did I understand the emotion carved into his face.

A suspicious guy with a bloodstained hood covering his face, sitting next to his collapsed sister — of course he'd read the situation as extremely dangerous.

"I don't know what you're imagining, but I just saved her. That's all."

I said it and shifted a little away from the fallen hunter. The man finally looked relieved and stepped closer.

He approached without making a sound, checked his sister's condition, and asked,

"So it seems. I'm Lee Hanseong of the Taeseong Guild."

"……."

A natural opening for introductions. I, however, had no intention of giving him my name. I'd been wearing the hood specifically so no one would learn it.

"Not planning to identify yourself, I see. Moving without telling your guild, then?"

"……Yeah."

Fortunately, he'd already filled in the blanks himself. No need for a clumsy cover story.

Lee Hanseong checked his sister's breathing, then looked her over for any serious injuries.

"She's not much of a hunter, but even with her limited skill, she's still my little sister."

Once he'd finished examining her, he turned to me. Something like a decision settled on his face, tinged with a faint regret.

"It's nothing spectacular, but I'd like you to take this at least."

He slipped a bracelet off one arm and held it out. As I looked down at it, a translucent window appeared before my eyes.

The bracelet Lee Hanseong was offering me. It was a hunter's tool with a pathfinding effect — and in dungeons where satellite equipment was useless, the value of something like this went without saying. In other words, the man in front of me was handing over a considerable reward for saving his sister.

"Well… I won't refuse."

No point turning down something he'd resolved himself to give. I'd spent the whole day wandering this dungeon precisely because I didn't have gear like this.

Lee Hanseong quietly set the tool in my palm. Even as he did, a lingering attachment still showed in his eyes.

"……."

"……."

Our gazes met. His stare was heavy enough to be uncomfortable. Judging by the force behind that arrow, he was no half-baked hunter. I was glad I hadn't made an enemy of him.

"One last thing before I go — which direction did you all come from?"

Before we parted, I asked where the hunters had entered from. Lee Hanseong casually hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

"That way, of course… from the dungeon entrance. We got a rescue request and didn't have time to waste."

"……."

"Looks like you're looking for someone. Hope the next time we meet is under better circumstances."

I'd learned the direction of the entrance. No reason to stick around. After Lee Hanseong's farewell, I walked past the hunters and kept going.

Through the fluttering edge of my hood, I could feel his companions' eyes on me. I didn't bother acknowledging them.

Time to go — back to my little studio apartment.

It was time to return to the home I'd been missing. The end of days spent living in a dungeon. Civilization was waiting.

Lee Hanseong, B-class hunter of the Taeseong Guild.

Deep inside the low-rank dungeon known as the Resting Place of the Dead, he was lost in thought.

Not long ago, he'd heard that the scheduled check-in from his little sister's party had gone silent. He'd grabbed his teammates and rushed here in a panic — and at the spot where he'd found her, he'd run into a suspicious hunter wrapped in a shabby cloak.

"……."

An unidentified hunter. Even when Lee Hanseong had loosed an arrow in complete earnest, the man hadn't so much as flinched. As if being blocked was only natural, he'd casually steered the sword drifting around him and turned the attack aside.

He casually stopped an arrow I fired for real. That means he's at least my equal — or better.

When Lee Hanseong put his full strength behind a shot, even his own party members struggled to stop it. And yet the hunter he'd faced had deflected it with room to spare. On top of that, the way the sword had moved around the man was striking. He hadn't lifted a finger — the blade had swung on its own.

And that attack… is he using something like Flying Sword Control?

He clearly possessed some extraordinary skill Lee Hanseong himself had never even heard of. There was no other way to swing a sword without ever touching it.

Lee Hanseong was still turning it over as he walked when a familiar teammate's voice rang in his ear.

"Team Leader Lee Hanseong! We think we've found traces of a battle from that hunter we just ran into!"

Traces of the hunter they'd just met. The moment he heard it, Lee Hanseong headed straight for the site without hesitation. He wanted to see what happened when that unidentified hunter swung a sword in earnest.

"Where?"

"O-over there, take a look……."

Before long, Lee Hanseong stood before the aftermath of a fierce fight.

His gaze followed his teammate's pointing finger. The ground looked as though a monster had torn through it, earth ripped up in a chaotic mess.

"That's……."

And right through the center of the monster's trail — as if bisecting everything in a single straight line — a clean sword mark was carved into the earth.

The result of a single stroke. As though someone had tried to fell an entire thick forest in one cut, a vivid, unwavering scar stretched far into the distance.

"Ah……."

A breath of awe slipped from Lee Hanseong's lips. In his mind, he revised his assessment of the hunter he'd just met.

That unidentified hunter was nowhere near Lee Hanseong's level.

If we'd fought, we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would've been wiped out.

A top-tier hunter far beyond anything Lee Hanseong could contend with. That was the man's true measure. Having adjusted his evaluation of his benefactor, Lee Hanseong was quietly grateful they hadn't come to blows.

"Haa……."

Lee Hanseong — the B-class hunter hailed as a special prospect of the Taeseong Guild — etched the image of that breathtakingly beautiful sword scar deep into his memory.