Why Is Baal in Kramdel?
Aria.
She sat in meditation, quietly drawing deep, measured breaths. Above her head a single sword began to drift in silence, trailing a faint, silvery chill.
Northern Sky Ice Sword.
The blade of an ancient god that had slept in the North. One of the weapons so perilous that the White King himself had sealed them away. Its extreme cold froze everything it touched on contact; no one had ever dared to wield it. Yet she had succeeded in taming it.
Through that she had gained enlightenment and broken through her wall.
Still not enough.
She yearned even deeper. To surpass the sword that rose in her mind—his sword—she was still impossibly far. The Sword Gang that had shattered the stele in a single stroke. The stele that neither the Sword Saint nor Swordmaster Laktusha could cut, he had simply sliced through as if it were nothing.
The true “Master of the Sword” the Sword Saint had spoken of clearly meant him.
How am I supposed to reach that?
She had believed herself a genius. Through Laktusha, through that man, she had learned how arrogant that belief had been. Even after taming the Northern Sky Ice Sword, the distance still felt endless.
She wanted to reach it. By any means necessary. For that, she could not stop.
Eyes closed, Aria began her observation. Yet before long she opened them again.
…Fifth Lord.
A name that shattered her concentration had risen unbidden in her mind. The existence that had appeared in Kramdel like a comet. Fifth Lord Randolph. A name she had heard until her ears rang, though she had never seen him in person. Still the White King kept trying, somehow, to bind the two of them together.
It will not go as you wish.
She was no object to be sold off according to the White King’s will. The moment she entered, the moment she saw his face, she would say it clearly. Corpse crows were not her type. She had not the slightest intention of being linked to someone hideous and ugly. Rather, she would make the Fifth Lord recoil in horror and leave first.
“…”
Having steeled her resolve, Aria rose slowly. Mealtime with the Fifth Lord was almost upon them.
A wide chamber lavishly adorned with countless jewels. Appearing at the banquet seat, Aria renewed her resolve once more.
I’m going to act out. If he finds me distasteful, there will be no further entanglement.
It was a direct defiance of the White King’s will. If the White King truly set his mind to it, something so small would never simply fizzle out. But the other party was the Fifth Lord. When matters concerned the Fifth Lord, the White King had a strange habit of taking one step back. In other words, if the Fifth Lord did not take a liking to her, even the great White King could not freely push things further.
Still, he arrived first.
The appointed hour had not even come, yet the figure who appeared to be the Fifth Lord was already seated in the banquet hall. The residents of Kramdel barely possessed the concept of “appointment time” itself, yet the Fifth Lord seemed to have at least some grasp of it.
The moment I see his face, I speak.
She had already decided. She had not the slightest intention of playing along with a seat forced by the White King. The instant she saw the face she would cut straight to the point. That someone like him was repulsive, that corpse crows were even more so. It would be a grave discourtesy, but it was the only way.
So resolved, she sat opposite him.
“…!!!”
Aria could not utter a single word of what she had prepared. She had steeled herself to pour out every harsh phrase, yet her mind went blank as fresh paper. Because the Fifth Lord’s appearance—that face…
“H-how…!”
Goosebumps raced across her entire body. It was not simply because the face was horrific. Of course it was horrific, but the reason the chill seized her was something else entirely.
“Ba… Baal…”
Why was Baal here?
…Baal?
Hearing the name that burst from Aria’s lips, I tilted my head. While transformed into The One Who Blooms Darkness I had grown used to reactions of pure revulsion, but this was the first time anyone had mentioned “Baal.”
If my face truly resembled Baal’s, wouldn’t the White King have noticed first? Or had neither the White King nor the other lords ever seen Baal, and so failed to recognize it?
“Why is Baal in Kramdel? Do you mean to sink the city?”
Shiiiiiiing!
At the heavy presence flying from behind I snapped my head sideways. A sword screamed past, grazing my earlobe with extreme cold.
“Do you think I’ll simply let things go your way any longer!”
“I am the Fifth Lord—”
Kwaang!
Aria stomped the floor. Ice surged up her entire body as she gripped the sword. Armor and helm of pure frost formed; the moment she poured power into the blade, everything around her began to freeze solid.
She’s grown tremendously.
I was quietly impressed myself. The Aria before me now was incomparable to the one I had seen at the Mountain of the Cultivator.
Just as the other lords had raised their levels, she too had elevated her rank enormously. Most likely that sword.
(???)
Grade unknown
That blade of unreadable grade seemed to have raised her combat power by several stages at once. A sword that produced such a radical leap…
A demonic sword, then.
Not an ordinary weapon. The kind of cursed blade that devours its master if the master is weak.
Tak!
I snatched the flying sword clean out of the air.
“Foolish…!”
To grab the edge of the Northern Sky Ice Sword itself. In an instant he would freeze and shatter into fragments.
Swaaaa!
As expected, cold erupted from the Northern Sky Ice Sword. The chill raced to claim its target.
…Yet he did not freeze.
What?
There was nothing the Northern Sky Ice Sword could not freeze. Everything that existed froze upon contact. Yet now its cold, far from freezing the opponent—
What is this…?
…The cold that had circled once began freezing Aria instead. It was as if the Northern Sky Ice Sword she had once tamed failed to recognize its master and bit her. An impossible thing. An event that could not occur had occurred.
How was this possible?
The ownership of the sword transferred…?
Only then did she understand. The reason the Northern Sky Ice Sword had frozen her. It had not merely been an attack; the instant that existence laid a hand on the blade, the “ownership rights” of the sword had shifted in a single heartbeat.
Yet this too was impossible. The Northern Sky Ice Sword was bound equipment. Only the one to whom it was bound could possess and wield it. Unless the bound owner was killed, the binding could not be released. Binding was that absolute. It was the most basic common sense known to every living being in Pangenia.
Above all, there was no way the Northern Sky Ice Sword would side with such an ominous being. Had it not been sealed for ages in the northern lands and managed directly by the White King? Its danger needed no further words. Anyone not recognized by the Northern Sky Ice Sword who gripped it lost their life at once. That man should have been no different.
…Yet he did not freeze.
Then had the Northern Sky Ice Sword recognized him as its new master?
…Deeper darkness…
Ah.
In that moment she could not believe it. The Northern Sky Ice Sword had not newly recognized him. It had been suppressed. By deeper darkness. By an irresistible will. She had never seen anything like it. There was no way she could have witnessed such absurdity.
“For now, take a nap.”
Jjeojeojeok!
Aria turned into a solid block of ice.
…What am I supposed to do about this.
Looking at Aria sealed inside the ice, I scratched my head. Even I had not expected her to attack out of nowhere after mistaking me for Baal.
How do I thaw her?
I looked down at the Northern Sky Ice Sword that had somehow ended up in my hand. The One Who Blooms Darkness. Through that authority I had temporarily seized the sword’s functions, yet I had no idea how to reverse the freezing.
Tuk. Tuk.
I gripped the Northern Sky Ice Sword and gave it a light shake. Originally, while transformed as the Glutton, equipping gear was impossible—yet right now I was clearly swinging the Northern Sky Ice Sword. This too must be a trait of The One Who Blooms Darkness.
Moreover—
-Scary! What are you! Scary!
…An ego sword?
The Northern Sky Ice Sword was speaking to me. It was fascinating. Truly, endlessly fascinating. Even the Unique-grade sword Path of Light that I had driven into the Demon King’s chest had possessed no ego. It had something like a sword’s will, but it never spoke or felt fear like a person with emotions. There had been a few blades labeled “ego sword” in their descriptions, yet they were ego swords in name only and could not truly use language. They merely recited pre-set phrases as needed. Naturally such swords had no emotions either.
So of course this was amazing. I was seeing a sword of this kind for the first time. Even scanning Wilhelm’s memories engraved among the stars yielded the same result.
“…Fifth Lord. What are you doing?”
Ah.
A voice from behind. Turning my head, I found the White King regarding me and Aria with heavy eyes. Aria trapped in ice, and me swinging the sword I had taken from her. It was a scene easy to misread—
…and the White King seemed to be misreading it quite thoroughly.
White King versus The One Who Blooms Darkness.
It had been a seat where he hoped the two would share a meal, converse, and come to know each other. He had forced the situation, yet he believed they would suit each other well. Both Aria and the Fifth Lord possessed honest natures. He had thought that with only a little push they would feel genuine goodwill toward one another.
…
He had thought they would feel goodwill. Yet the present scene was nothing like the picture he had desired. Neither warm nor even the first step of mutual understanding. It was simply catastrophe itself.
A block of ice. Aria frozen solid inside it. And the Fifth Lord holding the Northern Sky Ice Sword, swinging it as though it were a toy.
…How?
The Northern Sky Ice Sword was bound equipment. Bound gear could be used by another only after the bound owner died. It was an unchanging, immutable truth. Then why was the Fifth Lord swinging the Northern Sky Ice Sword now? There was only one answer. Unless he had killed Aria and taken it.
Moreover—
Eye of Ill Omen.
The Northern Sky Ice Sword was a powerful demonic blade. Even if seized, it could not be swung unless the sword itself recognized the wielder. Yet now an “eye” was engraved in the center of the blade. An eye of ill omen—a crow’s eye. One eye, open as though shedding tears of blood, controlled every aspect of the Northern Sky Ice Sword. The White King recognized it at once.
How dare he.
Even if the blade tempted him, still. And in the White King’s own hall, right before his wide-open eyes, to commit such an act.
“How dare…”
The White King’s eyes flooded crimson. Fur all over his body bristled and rose. He had been far too complacent. It was true he had favored the Fifth Lord. Whenever the Fifth Lord had skated the edge of the line, the White King had, in his own way, respected the one who had never received his “grace,” unlike the other Four Lords. The Fifth Lord was ominous, yet there had been no reason to make that ominousness an enemy. It seemed, however, that such forbearance had only made the Fifth Lord look down on him.
“…There seems to be a misunderstanding, caw.”
…Before the White King could fully shift into his true form, I barely managed to open my mouth. Until now the White King had never revealed his true body in my presence. He knew that once the true form appeared, one of the two must die for the matter to end. Yet now he was about to do exactly that. Having confirmed Aria’s state with his own eyes, he had lost his reason.
There was only one way to resolve this.
“Aria is not dea—”
Kwaang—!
Before the words could finish leaving my mouth, the White King attacked.