Chapter 23
Yoon Sang-hyuk gave a quiet nod, but he did not climb back into the carriage. Just as Zephyr sensed that something was wrong and was about to ask him about it, Sang-hyuk spoke first.
"Something’s coming."
"Pardon? I’m not sure I follow."
"Like this."
Yoon Sang-hyuk tipped his chin toward the distance.
When Zephyr turned, he flinched violently.
Someone was standing in the space that had been empty only moments ago. The figure wore a black robe embroidered with golden thread in lavish patterns.
The hood was drawn low enough to hide the face, but the presence it gave off was unmistakable. This was no lich. There was life in it.
"If you went to the trouble of coming here without an invitation, the least you could do is introduce yourself."
"I am Zarhan, servant of Lord Zigritria."
Zephyr stared at the man who had introduced himself as Zarhan, his eyes wide with surprise.
"You’re really Zarhan?"
"Of course."
Yoon Sang-hyuk asked, "You know him?"
"I know of him, but he doesn’t know me."
"In other words, that bastard’s pretty famous?"
"Exactly."
"So tell me just how impressive he is."
Zephyr gave a brief explanation of Zarhan.
"He’s a master of dark magic. He serves Paimon, Ninth among the Demon Lords of the Demon Realm, and leads the Dark Magic Corps. He’s known as one of the closest beings to a Demon Lord."
"I see. So in other words, he’s nobody special."
At Sang-hyuk’s words, Zephyr let out a bitter smile. From Yoon Sang-hyuk’s point of view, Zarhan really was nothing special. Hadn’t he once gone toe-to-toe with Baal, the very ruler of the Demon Realm? Once again, Zephyr was reminded of who he was traveling with.
Yoon Sang-hyuk gave Zephyr’s shoulder a light tap.
"You’re not exactly losing to that guy now either. So don’t make that face. It’s not just him who’s close to a Demon Lord, you know? Right?"
Zephyr gave an awkward laugh and lowered his head. After all, it was Yoon Sang-hyuk who had given him that power in the first place.
"So why are you here? Did Zigritria send a greeting, or did he come to guide us personally?"
"I know very well how strong you are. However, it would be prudent not to address Lord Zigritria with such insolence."
Even as he spoke in anger, Zarhan’s tone remained composed. Yoon Sang-hyuk knew very well that people like that were troublesome to deal with. But that only held true when both sides were roughly equal.
"Sounds like you still don’t know me very well. I’m the kind of guy who does more when told not to. So I guess I’ll just keep being insolent because of you. Now I’m curious how troublesome things can get. You’re curious too, aren’t you, Zephyr?"
"Ah? Y-yes. Haha. Yes."
This was someone who could speak so casually to an emissary of Zigritria, the Magic Dragon of Despair, a being even the Demon King could not treat lightly. Once again, Zephyr realized he was standing beside something extraordinary.
"…Lord Zigritria asked me to deliver a message."
"Good. Hurry up and deliver it. I’m starting to think your lines are too long for an extra. Go on, say it and exit."
Zarhan did not fully understand the meaning behind the words, but his mood clearly darkened. Then he spoke in a short, flat voice.
"Your despair begins now."
As Zarhan extended his hand, a wand formed in the air, made from connected skulls.
Thunk.
Zarhan drove the wand into the ground.
"I hope Lord Zigritria’s gift meets your liking."
With those words, Zarhan’s body grew hazy and began to fade.
"A gift? I don’t know what it is, but I’ll receive it gratefully."
The ground trembled.
The others gathered around Yoon Sang-hyuk.
"This is no ordinary presence."
"I’m rather looking forward to seeing what kind of gift it is."
Then something burst up through the earth. The number was beyond counting. Rising from the ground were black bones.
"So it’s only undead?"
The horde was enormous, easily numbering in the thousands. Some had the shapes of humans; others were undead beasts.
The undead spread a sinister aura as they slowly closed in.
"That bastard’s a little impressive."
A monstrous undead stood there with a height so great that even looking up did not reveal its full extent.
"It’s a Behemoth."
At Ibrahmut’s words, everyone except Yoon Sang-hyuk and Valender von Graus went pale. The king of beasts, a creature that existed only in legend, had appeared in undead form.
"Zephyr."
"Yes, Sang-hyuk-nim."
"Use the carriage to build a barrier. You and your brothers protect the Arian Clan."
"We will protect them, no matter what."
"With Arin’s help, it won’t be difficult."
Yoon Sang-hyuk drew Song of Doom from his subspace.
"Been a while."
After murmuring under his breath, Yoon Sang-hyuk lightly slashed the air with Song of Doom. But the result of that casual motion was anything but light.
Without warning or sound, a cold surge swept forward and erased the human undead in a single pass. Zephyr and his brothers stared with their mouths hanging open as the undead collapsed without even the sound of being cut down.
"That’s a pretty interesting gift."
The undead destroyed by Yoon Sang-hyuk’s attack were already beginning to rise again. That was how undead were, of course, but this was Song of Doom. A sword that bore the divinity of Sevander, a god who had fallen from grace yet still possessed divinity no less real for the fall. And then there was Song of Doom, strengthened by the Divinity of Sevander until it had transcended legend and become myth. Seeing undead rise again after taking a hit from such a sword, Yoon Sang-hyuk smiled faintly.
"Ibrahmut."
"Yes, hyung-nim."
"Shall we make a bet?"
"A bet, you say?"
At the word bet, Ibrahmut’s red eyes flashed brightly.
"Who can kill more undead."
"No matter how strong the undead are, we count each one as a single kill, yes?"
"Of course."
"Then does that Behemoth count as one too?"
"That one’s excluded from the bet. You can’t go sniffing around my toy. Everything except that one counts."
Ibrahmut asked in a sly tone, "And what are you putting up?"
"Unfortunately, I already gave the Essence of Ifrit to your son, so I’ll have to stake something else. How about Holy Water from the current Saintess?"
"Ah, what am I supposed to do with that? You do know Holy Water is practically poison to me, don’t you?"
"Couldn’t you just feed it to someone you really hate?"
"Not a bad suggestion, but I refuse. Put something up that helps me get stronger."
"I’ll see what you’re wagering and match it."
Without hesitation, Ibrahmut reached out his hand.
"This is something hyung-nim absolutely needs."
In his grasp was a long, dark metal rod.
At the unusual aura clinging to it, Yoon Sang-hyuk asked with interest, "What is that?"
"It belonged to someone hyung-nim has been dying to meet."
"Someone I’ve been dying to meet? Don’t tell me that means it was used by Satan."
"Bingo? That’s the word people use these days, right? Anyway, bingo. It belonged to Satan. Satan doesn’t really use weapons and armor. This was the club he used when disciplining his subordinates."
"Look at you. You’re putting a club in the bet?"
"Hyung-nim, even the most insignificant object changes in value depending on who used it."
Come to think of it, that made sense.
Something used by a famous celebrity could be worth a surprising amount, even if it was ordinary in itself. And if it had been used by the ruler of an entire world, the value would only be greater.
"Fine. I accept. Then I’ll wager these."
Yoon Sang-hyuk took out two rings and a necklace. They were all set with red gems.
"Oh-ho. Those are rather nice."
"Things you can’t get in the Demon Realm."
All of them were legendary-grade accessories, each with effects that increased fire属性. As expected of legendary grade, their stats were substantial. It was unclear whether they would even apply to Ibrahmut, but there was no question they were not easy to come by.
"Is Valender hyung-nim not joining the bet?"
"Valender doesn’t have anything to wager."
Valender von Graus spoke as if he had been waiting for the question.
"I’ll stake my honor."
Yoon Sang-hyuk and Ibrahmut stared blankly at Valender von Graus. Then Yoon Sang-hyuk gave a small nod.
"Nothing is more valuable than Valender’s honor. I accept. What about you?"
"I accept as well."
"Good. Then it starts now."
Yoon Sang-hyuk vanished.
"Hyung-nim. That’s cheating!"
As Ibrahmut roared, a tremendous surge of heat erupted from his body. He grew more than ten times larger, becoming a Balrog with blazing whips in both hands and two magnificent horns on his head.
This was Ibrahmut’s true form.
"Valender hyung-nim. Now, then, let’s properly—"
Looking down, Ibrahmut frowned. The place where Valender von Graus had been standing was empty. When he turned his head, he could already see Valender von Graus cutting through the undead, leaving a trail of slaughter in his wake.
"Those two hyung-nims are seriously something else!"
* * *
Ssshhh-
Yoon Sang-hyuk moved like a ghost. Even without using any extraordinary movement technique, he flowed through the undead as naturally as water. His sword was the same. It carried no formality, no discipline. It simply kept cutting, and cutting, and cutting again.
But the result was astonishing. The undead around him kept collapsing one after another. Some managed to rise again, but before long they would fall once more.
It was the understanding he had gained from his battle with Baal.
Yoon Sang-hyuk’s former common sense had been shattered. Skills no longer meant anything to him. They activated on their own, as though carried by his will alone. And they were not the same skills as before. They had been refined by that understanding into something perfect. Movements of ruthless efficiency, stripped to their cleanest form.
At a glance, there seemed to be no pattern to them, but the path traced by Yoon Sang-hyuk’s sword was perfect in and of itself. It was nothing less than a beautiful painting. Yet the scene that painting created was a pure massacre.
"I’ll make you regret putting a club up as the wager."
Yoon Sang-hyuk muttered to himself.
Just imagining Ibrahmut being beaten down into the ground by a black iron club in the middle of their duel was enough to make him laugh.
"Then you’d better win the bet, wouldn’t you?"