Chapter 96
Chapter 96
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 96
#096. Let's End This Quickly. I Need to Wash Up.
Asher retraced the past.
His happy childhood, the day it all fell apart, the memories of his escape, and even the time he spent afterward trying to forget Baern.
The culprit behind it all stood right before him.
Only in a moment like this did he realize he had never truly forgotten anything.
The instant he laid eyes on Grost, his emotions surged wildly.
The resentment and hatred he felt toward him burned as vividly and intensely as they had that day.
The difference now was that he wouldn't throw himself into revenge.
Asher had a place to return to.
No matter how strong the enemy was or how much he despised him, he no longer had to lose himself in it.
Clang!
Their swords clashed and parted.
It was a continuous string of moments where a single split-second misjudgment could lead to death.
He felt like he was walking on the edge of a blade.
He could certainly see why the man was so confident.
He was unequivocally the strongest foe.
Neither the heretics' dark sorcery, the corrupted entities' twisted grudges, nor physical force and curses could match Grost's sword.
No one had told him, but Asher intuited that the principle behind his corruption centered on the heretics' 1st Class Knight.
But defeat never crossed his mind.
He could win.
Asher was quite familiar with situations like this.
He had never faced an easy opponent to begin with. Every moment of his life had been spent studying how to better take down tough enemies.
Splat!
Blood sprayed high.
It wasn't Asher's. It was Grost's, and his blood was black.
[...!]
The fleeting tremble in Grost's body felt like an eternity to Asher.
He unleashed the vice-captain's swift sword style.
Tat-tat-tat-tang!
He sliced at the joints in the armor. Though the armor was fused to his body and wouldn't come off, he could sever the joints and draw out the blood.
Grost counterattacked. He accelerated with that massive sword, enduring the wounds at his joints to launch a strike.
Asher responded by employing even more techniques.
He stomped on the solar plexus with his foot, used Hwaran's assassination blade, and when Grost thrashed and lost his balance, he switched to Kyle's maritime swordsmanship.
In the moment the opening appeared,
"You're wide open."
The sword came slashing down in a straight line.
-Here, Asher. This is the downward slash.
Craaaack!
It was the captain's sword technique that Asher had learned first.
The blade dug from Grost's right shoulder to his chest in a straight line.
It carried on with enough momentum to bisect him, ultimately piercing clean through his body.
Black blood erupted like a fountain. Grost's eyes widened in shock.
He dropped his sword and forcibly held his bisected body together.
Then, with a crack, his jaw split open, forming a mouth where none had existed before.
[Aaaaaaah!!!]
Rumble!
The vibration shook the air.
Black divinity swept through the surroundings like an explosion.
Asher shielded his body with his divine power.
With one hand covering his mouth, he stared straight ahead.
In that instant, as Asher confirmed what lay before him, his eyes filled with pity.
"What an ugly sight."
[Not yet, not yet...!]
Grost had sprouted membranous wings. His bisected body was held together by tentacle-like appendages extending from it. Black liquid drooled from his gaping maw like saliva.
But something else caught Asher's eye even more.
"From the start, you didn't want to surpass the captain. You just wanted to catch up to him."
A cape billowed behind him like a lion's mane. In his hand was a sword so broad it resembled a shieldthe captain's greatsword.
The body he had forged with twisted heretic divinity had ultimately taken the form of an imitation of the captain.
[Not yet... I...!]
"That's enough."
Asher's sword tip scraped the ground.
He assumed the rider stance and sealed his divinity within his body.
It grew still. The mist-like divinity that had enveloped his flesh sank like a lake.
His eyes shone with clear, unwavering light.
Grost lunged.
It was some imitation of the captain's swordsmanship as well.
And there the match ended.
For a man who had lost even his own secrets and could only mimic another.
"You."
Could never defeat Asher.
Shing!
Asher's sword slipped in like flowing water, deflecting Grost's greatsword.
It evoked the ripples of a streamsupple, with nothing to catch on.
Grost realized he had been had a beat too late.
Of course. This was no one's sword from the mercenary bandit was one Asher had forged himself.
A man captive to ghosts of the past would never have considered such new possibilities.
[Ugh, ah...!]
Asher's sword reached Grost's waist. It severed the cross-section once more, where the tentacles had held it.
But this time, it wasn't a mere slash.
Like a sponge soaking up water, the divinity from Asher's blade seeped into the cross-section and absorbed into Grost's body.
His entire form was invaded by the divinity.
And that was the end.
Crackle-crackle-crack!!!
Golden cracks spread from the cross-section across his whole body.
He staggered and fell to his knees.
Thud-thud-thud!
The undead he had raised collapsed all at once.
Drained of power, they reverted to corpses and entered eternal rest.
Asher looked down at Grost.
Even as his body crumbled to dust in death, he glared at Asher with resentment.
The moment their eyes met, Asher washed away a lingering knot that had always sat in a corner of his heart.
It wasn't the thrill of victory or the completion of revenge.
It was a touch of emptiness, pity, and mourning for the dead.
He was just a man who had crumbled from obsession, granted power.
T erbion's lions hadn't been anywhere near as vile in dealing with him.
'It's... over.'
Realizing that, his shoulders slumped.
His sword tip pointed downward.
At the same time, cheers spread like wildfire.
"Woooah!"
"Terbion! Terbion! Terbion!"
"Yaaaah!"
Asher looked up.
The Big Ten mercenaries, Gester, Norwang, and Jern were watching him.
The sight of them roaring in excitement burned into his retinas.
Some couldn't just cheer; they hung their heads and shed tears.
Others scowled to hold back their tears.
They were probably survivors of the Lion Corps harmed in the incident ten years ago.
Asher no longer resented them.
Revenge was fulfilled, and they were mere small players swept up in the chaos.
Gester approached.
He pulled Asher into an embrace.
"You did it... you really did it..."
Asher patted Gester's back.
But it was too soon to celebrate the victory.
"It's not over yet."
Asher gripped Gester's shoulders and gently pushed him away.
Then, with a smile utterly like himself, he said,
"I'll be back. The Saintess is waiting."
It was a bright, boyish smile. A pure clarity that didn't suit the title of Blood Knight at all.
Gester's eyes widened, then he grinned like a child himself.
"Finally smiling like the Asher I know. This suits you."
Until now, someone else had been smiling through this body, after all.
No need to say it, no room for it.
Still, he felt a twinge of annoyance at his old friend who never once suspected Asher had been in Versia's body. He would've figured it out in an instant.
"Go on. Kill that damn woman!"
"Yeah."
Asher turned.
The Big Ten mercenaries cheered him on, and amid that, they began bustling about to clean up the battlefield.
The main base shrouded in black veil the moment Asher headed there.
Craaaash!
A beam of light pierced from the sky into the veil.
It was Versia's prayer.
He needed to hurry.
* * *
Versia steadied her breathing and moved right after Asher left.
No matter how cursed her body was, she had no intention of sitting like a princess trapped in a tower waiting for her prince.
The curse amounted to a fever or a nagging ache in her lower belly.
Crude as it sounded, it was just arousal.
Like novels claimed, surging lust didn't paralyze her from taking a single step.
She had no experience to confirm, but it had to be true.
She needed to push deeper. In her original body, Versia was confident she wouldn't lose to anyone.
Of course, the interior wasn't empty.
There were quite a few filthy traps.
"Ugh."
Tentacles slithered toward her. The place was filled with traps evoking sexual imagery.
They must have known about the Curse of Lust.
Tsk, Versia clicked her tongue and began to pray.
Nothing could harm her.
Rumble!
Simply unleashing divine power was enough to eradicate the heretics in the space.
That was favoritism.
Versia pressed on to the deepest part, irritation mounting.
There, the witch Tehurawith the appearance she rememberedgreeted her with a smile.
"Oh? Didn't you like my gift?"
"Do I look like a beggar to you? You think I'll eat whatever because I'm hungry?"
"I meant it as a kindness, yet you wound me."
"Aw, poor thing. Stuck in your chicken coop, you wouldn't understand since tentacles are all you get."
"Heh, cheeky."
Their exchange could have passed for everyday banter.
But both knew it wasn't.
The heat hadn't subsided.
Even now, talking like this brought Asher's face to mind over and over.
She wanted to finish this as fast as possible.
Kiiiiing!
A halo appeared.
Unlike before, it was still golden, not yet stained with blood.
Versia was in a rush.
She thought of only one thing.
"Let's end this quickly. I need to wash up."
She'd go back and have sex with Asher.
This time, she really couldn't hold back.
Craaaash!
A flash of light struck down into the space.