Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: The Thunderclap Sword
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"There's an old saying."
There are two things that devour the abyss. One is a greater abyss.
The other is.
"A flame that brightly illuminates the world."
Bernard, who had lost one arm, leaned on his Thunderclap Sword like a cane as he spoke.
"What's this nonsense all of a sudden."
He had come to check on his condition.
And right away, he spouts something weird.
His eyes, misty with a sense of mission, were quite burdensome.
"Kallias. Become the flame."
"So, what is this out of nowhere."
Clank.
Bernard handed over the Thunderclap Sword—Rakan—that he carried.
"I saw the flame in you."
Did he read some strange book somewhere?
Why keep going on about flames?
Kallias eyed Bernard and the Thunderclap Sword alternately with a troubled look.
"A small ember protecting the North on a small scale, Carpe on a grand one. Small now, but one day to become a conflagration engulfing the continent—that's what I saw in you."
So.
"Take the sword. It's not a Soul Sword, but it's one step away from that rank. It'll serve you well on your path."
"This is so random. Have you been drinking?"
"You'd probably say you don't need it. I'd already guessed you'd refuse out of worry for a one-armed man like me. But take it. This is..."
"Thank you."
Snatch.
Kallias grabbed the Thunderclap Sword.
But Bernard's hand wouldn't let go of the hilt.
"I wasn't done talking."
"Unnecessary words. Just give it."
"You're... not refusing?"
"Why refuse when you're offering it?"
It was a sword he'd coveted and waited for over the years.
No way he'd turn it down.
"With only one arm left, what am I supposed to do without even the Thunderclap Sword!"
Kallias's gaze turned icy.
"What do you want me to do about it."
"You should've pretended to refuse out of concern for me, then reluctantly accepted! That way, my dignity stays intact!"
"Jeez."
So that's what he was getting at.
Kallias let go of the Thunderclap Sword.
Bernard clutched it tightly with his remaining left arm like a treasure, then coughed awkwardly in embarrassment.
"Ahem. This Thunderclap Sword, you see. My dear friend Rakan, in a moment of crisis, sacrificed himself in a desperate battle. By his will, he became a husk."
Pilgrims, before their inheritance ceremony.
All sign one oath.
That their soul, not ascending to the divine embrace, would serve the Church for a time.
An oath consenting to become a husk after death.
*The Husk Oath.*
The Thunderclap Sword was forged that way too.
"It was a formidable foe. A beast that dominated a corner of the North. Its power was so great we fought for three days and nights... In the end, we won, but much blood was spilled."
Of course, Kallias knew it all.
Thunderclap Sword—Rakan.
He knew the being who was once Rakan and the story behind becoming the Thunderclap Sword.
A group of pilgrims dispatched to the North.
Among them, the strong Bernard and Rakan.
They had prestige and were the strongest in the pilgrim group.
But crisis came, and one sacrificed.
When Bernard arrived later, he was beyond saving, and as Rakan wished, made him into a sword.
"With this Rakan, I avenged him. Fought three days and nights to barely win. Back then, it was the king of beasts that made the North tremble... I was terrified."
"How long do I have to listen?"
As the story dragged on, Kallias showed his boredom.
Bernard's sharp glare battered him but soon faded.
"Will you carry on the will of my friend, Rakan?"
"Yes."
Snatch. Bernard and Kallias gripped the sword together, their gazes locking.
And then.
"......"
"......"
Tremble.
A contest of strength began.
"Can't you just hand it over nicely?"
"The blood of a warrior boils. Maybe I should keep using it myself..."
"Cut the crap."
"Crap, you punk! I'm still spry! Bursting with vigor every morning!"
Whoosh!
Kallias yanked it away by force and hastily sheathed the Thunderclap Sword at his waist.
"Vigor my ass."
"Ah......"
Having lost his beloved sword? Bernard gazed at the Thunderclap Sword with regret.
In contrast, Kallias patted the Thunderclap Sword with newfound reassurance.
"Actually, there's another reason I'm entrusting Rakan to you."
"What is it."
"The beast that killed my friend Rakan. Its offspring is still alive."
"......?"
That was when it appeared.
[Epic Quest]
[Sprout of Lingering Malice]
Rank: A+
-Eliminate the Sprout of Lingering Malice.
Reward: Azure Thunder.
The system message appeared.
Kallias startled.
*Again...*
Something he hadn't set appeared.
Sprout of Lingering Malice?
"That... the beast's offspring?"
"Yes. I glimpsed it, but I'll never forget that sight. The form just like its dam, and the blue lightning—impossible to forget."
The beast that killed Rakan.
Up to there, he had set it.
"But no settings beyond that."
"It's a mutant born between dragon and wolf. Dragon scales cover its body, and the two horns on its head scatter blue lightning."
No settings up to here.
Offspring of dragon and wolf......
"If you saw it on the battlefield, why not kill it?"
"I tried! But it just watched from afar, never approaching. Like it came to watch the fun."
From Bernard's words and the quest message, it must be true.
Dragon's descendant.
He never imagined it still lived.
"Kallias. It's clever, exceptionally intelligent. You mustn't leave it be. If you do, it'll grow to dominate the North's beast forests like before, threatening us."
"What's its name."
He didn't remember naming it.
But Bernard would know.
Even if unset.
To him, it's a lived past.
"I called it the Thunder Wolf Dragon."
Thunder Wolf Dragon.
A wolf bearing dragon blood.
Thunder Wolf Dragon.
"Actually, Rakan holds one more secret. Want to hear it?"
"That this sword is a demon sword?"
"!! How did you know!"
How could he not?
Bernard devoted his years in the North hunting beasts partly because of this Thunderclap Sword.
Thunderclap Sword—Rakan.
This sword was a demon sword forged from Rakan, half-melted in the Thunder Wolf Dragon's gut, mixed with its corpse.
*Dragon blood mixed in, so a dragon demon sword?*
Anyway, the Church would hate it.
"That's why you're handing it to me. Afraid of getting caught with it."
"What nonsense! I'm passing it on because the time has come. An ailing old man no longer has the strength to wield a sword—handing the dying embers of old firewood to new wood, that's all."
He turned his back while speaking.
But he kept clearing his throat awkwardly.
Lost in trivial thoughts, Kallias pondered the quest reward.
*Epic Quest* reward.
Azure Thunder.
Literal blue lightning.
*Probably enhances the sword's lightning.*
A quest tied to the sword's origin.
No reason to refuse.
Kallias gripped the hilt and slowly drew Rakan.
[Thunderclap Sword - Rakan]
Rank - Spirit
Indwelling Soul – Ra??kan
Unique Ability - Azure Thunder
The question marks on the indwelling soul meant it wasn't a normal demon soul—mixed with the beast's digestive juices.
*Can't draw it in front of them.*
Same with Devouring Sword—Roas.
Divine Possession Sword—Gwid. Thunderclap Sword—Rakan.
All his swords were demon swords, unusable before them.
Sensitive ones might notice.
*Not Heretic Inquisitors for nothing.*
Moreover, these were direct captains under the Heretic Inquisition Captain.
One slip, and it'd get messy.
Clank.
Sheathing the Thunderclap Sword—Rakan, Kallias asked Bernard.
"What now?"
"What do you mean?"
"From here on."
"What can an old man do? Just hear the confessions of villagers as a pastime... teach swordsmanship here and there."
Long years in the North.
To him, the North was home now.
Harsh, barren land.
Thus, he yearned for warmth.
"When I first came to the North, someone told me. Stay long enough, and the cold grows cozy."
At first, dismissed as nonsense.
"But for me, the harsh cold blowing year-round has long felt quite cozy."
Snowflakes fell again, reflecting sunlight beautifully.
-Hap! Haat!
Through the falling snow, children training with swords were visible.
Bernard's lips curved into a smile.
"Is that so."
"Kallias. My one arm was spent for the North's future. Saved the North from ruin—cheap price, no? Plus, got a lifetime supply of drinking tales."
So.
"Don't grieve. Just lost one arm."
Bernard spoke calmly.
Kallias's lips trembled wordlessly.
He didn't know how to comfort an unfamiliar sense of loss.
Just.
"Master! I created a new sword technique!"
"Oh! Really? Show me!"
Despite losing arm and sword, he pressed on.
So, merely.
"May the gods overlook Bernard's path ahead."
A small wish.
* * *
The banquet hall in Jaybarshu Castle's inner keep.
A long rectangular table and soft lighting.
Candelabras illuminating the darkness.
In a place laden with bountiful food, sharp tensions clashed.
"Not much prepared, but eat your fill."
A middle-aged man at the head of the table, sipping wine.
Elberton ignored the needle-like auras from the guests.
"Hope the North's fare suits your tastes."
To his right, Heretic Inquisitor captains.
To his left, Kallias and Emily. His supporting knights, Allen and Orphin, stood by.
Emily, Allen, and Orphin standing behind Kallias showed no sign, but the pressure from them was burdensome.
The overwhelming presence of the strong pressed subtly.
"Invited to House Jerban's banquet—our honor."
"Is it."
"The family head's eyes are proof of divine stigmata. Seeing them alone is an honor."
"Just repaying ancestors' grace. What have we done."
"Haha, so humble. Protecting the North like this is no different from guarding Carpe at large. We merely stepped into another glorious battlefield—quite an honor for us too."
Warm conversation flowed.
Raiven was skilled in diplomacy, slyly like a snake, bolstering House Jerban and the North.
*What a silver tongue.*
Unclear what he aimed for by praising Jerban so.
But Kallias had no intent to just watch.
"Raiven, Heretic Inquisitor."
"Yes, Lord Kallias."
"If it's such an honor, no qualms helping the North more."
"Of course. Helping the North is helping Carpe, and Carpe helps the Church."
The Church's purpose is for the gods.
Thus, for the gods.
"War left orc corpses piled like mountains. How about turning their impurities into husks for redemption?"
Raiven's brow twitched.
"All of them...?"
"Why? Not difficult. You brought hundreds of troops. Giving fallen orcs a chance to cleanse their souls via husk ritual fits the Church's role."
"Of course, but..."
Raiven glanced at the captains beside him. They nodded; he adjusted his glasses and replied.
"Understood. Then we'll need to adjust the shares."
"Adjust? What adjustment."
"......Obviously, the husks."
Dividing between Church and North, no doubt. But Kallias had no such thought.
"They're foes who tore Northmen born and bred here, flesh and blood. Naturally, the North claims them, washing their corrupt souls in their victims' blood. Or will the Church send aid like this time?"
Raiven was speechless.
Turning over ten thousand orcs into husks—and claiming them all.
Who pays for their labor? Even the Church doesn't work free.
*Wastrel's a wastrel. Didn't expect such audacity.*
Raiven clicked his tongue inwardly, flashing a cold smile.
A snake-like scheme formed in his mind.
Pressuring Kallias and the North while lightening their load—a two-birds-one-stone.
"Upon reflection, you're right, Lord Kallias. Instead, promise one thing, and we'll gladly comply."
"Speak."
"If Lord Kallias returns to the Church with us. We'll honor all you've said."
"Me? Why."
"Our Heretic Inquisition highly values your prowess. We'd recommend you as a new Heretic Inquisitor."
Of course.
"But first, undergo heresy screening... Of course, for you, Lord Kallias, no issue."
If guilty of nothing.