Chapter 127: The King of the Dead (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 127: The King of the Dead (6)
Abel recognized him instantly.
Though his body was clad in ornate armor, his flesh was a dark, sickly gray, clinging tightly to his bones.
His hair, completely drained of its original color, was as white as a blank sheet of paper. It was the face of a dead man, devoid of even a flicker of life.
Yet, beneath the crown, a pair of golden eyes quietly gleamed with an eerie light.
Her father, Orion von Nibelung.
She had long since given up hope that he might still be alive. Ten years had already passed. If he were still breathing, he would have surely returned.
Until eight years ago, she had still harbored a sliver of hope. She had rationalized and comforted herself, believing there must be some reason for his delay.
But hope and reality rarely aligned.
By the fifth year of her father's disappearance, Abel had cast aside her childishness and buried her parents in her heart. She did not weakly deny reality.
Instead, she engraved her grandfather's words into her soul: to hold her sword all the tighter. All while waiting for the day she would finally find her parents.
...But what was this? The figure standing before her, bearing her father's exact likeness, was radiating a foul, malevolent magic.
Yet, to deny it was her father was impossible; those golden eyes shone with unmistakable clarity. A distinct brilliance lingered in those eyes alone.
Her mind was a chaotic mess. Her breathing faltered, and her heart hammered violently against her ribs like a broken machine.
Squeeze.
Shail grabbed the shoulder of the pale, trembling Abel. Abel looked up at Shail with a vacant, hollow gaze.
"Sha... Shail. What is this? That's not Dad, right? It can't be. There's no way Dad would look like that."
"...My Lady."
Shail bit her lower lip hard. Her teeth sank into her flesh, drawing a bead of blood. She was just as bewildered by the situation.
Shail shifted her gaze to look up at the summit of the temple.
She wanted nothing more than to deny Abel's desperate cry. But those eyes—even though the life within them had faded, they still held that unique brilliance.
It was a gaze permitted only to the descendants of the Sword Saint. As long as those irises remained, the name of the soul that once inhabited that monster's body was one she knew all too well.
Lord Orion...
To Shail, Orion was a special person. He had taken her in, cared for her, and spared no expense in supporting her education.
In a noble society rife with elitism, there were few men like him.
Some had even slandered him behind his back, claiming he was tarnishing the dignity of the nobility.
Even so, Orion had shielded her. He steadfastly adhered to his convictions, showing her through his actions what it truly meant to be an adult.
He had pushed back the darkness of this society with human warmth.
Shail stared straight into Draugr's eyes. His sunken pupils looked down upon all creation, and his gaze was cold enough to slice through flesh.
He was human only in shell. The essence inside had already become a twisted monster—one that petrified flesh, bound the dead, and ruled over a living hell.
The man who had given Shail a new life was dead, and a monster had claimed the empty vessel he left behind.
Rage welled up inside her. Her instinct was to take her lady and flee, but her eyes were already burning with a fierce will to fight.
I can't leave Lord Orion like this.
If the inscription on the stone monument was correct, Orion was also bound to this living hell. What was worse, his body had been stolen, reducing him to a mere puppet of a monster.
Clank.
The clanking of golden armor echoed. Draugr creaked as he rose to his feet. His movements were artificial, like those of a wooden puppet.
Though his movements were agonizingly slow, their feet felt glued to the ground. An inexplicable pressure weighed down on them. Even though they were in a sealed chamber where no wind should blow, a violent draft began to swirl.
Grit. Kang Geomma ground his teeth. The situation had veered far off course from his expectations.
Dammit.
Who could have foreseen such a shitty twist? It turned out Draugr was Abel's father.
Of course, his mind had been completely erased. With his extraordinary sensitivity, Kang Geomma could tell without a doubt: that thing was a magical beast. An S-rank beast, often referred to as a natural disaster.
Furthermore, unlike when they fought Agor, this was Draugr's home turf. And for some reason, the 'Staff of the Reaper' was nowhere to be seen.
To make matters worse, Abel was in a state of panic. At least Shail seemed to have kept her wits about her.
Their plans had gone awry, and it was difficult to find a way out. Fleeing was clearly the best option.
"……."
Yet, he didn't feel like running away at all. Kang Geomma felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage.
Rage toward Draugr, the Lich King, who had defiled the hope a young girl had cherished for ten long years.
By nature, Kang Geomma was far from a righteous man. It was the magic stone that had drawn him to this place in the first place. He usually cast aside unnecessary emotions to achieve his goals.
But that didn't mean he would tolerate the injustice right before his eyes.
Kang Geomma recalled Abel when she spoke of her father. Her face had been filled with a faint, aching longing.
And now, the deceased was being desecrated right in front of her. It was likely a parasitic type of magical beast that fed on a host. A few boss monsters in games were like that.
Of all things, Draugr had to be that kind of monster...
If he had known, he would have stopped Abel from coming at all costs.
Even with a mind made of vibranium, it would be hard to stay sane in this situation. Abel's reaction was actually proof of her mental fortitude. Anyone else would have clutched their head and fainted on the spot.
As despair began to saturate the air, Mikellan shouted.
"Everyone, pull yourselves together! This is no time to be standing around!"
His voice was incredibly resonant, hard to believe it came from an undead. Mikellan met the eyes of the trembling Abel and spoke.
"Though my body is like this, my heart remains human. I understand exactly how you feel, Lady Abel. But as a descendant of the Sword Saint, you must remain calm, especially in times like this. That is no longer your father."
At his words, Abel raised her head. Mikellan offered her a faint, comforting smile.
"My, you look just like the First Sword Saint. If she were here to see you, she would surely be proud."
"...Sir."
"'When confusion reigns, feel the hilt of your sword against your knuckles to summon your courage.' That is what the First Sword Saint often told me. So, take up your sword and move forward. Surely, your father would want that as well."
A look of seasoned wisdom settled on Mikellan's face.
"……."
Abel's gaze drifted down to her right hand. Her palm was covered in thick calluses. The traces of all the effort she had poured in for this very day remained etched upon her hand.
She slowly closed her eyes. The air was already turbulent, and crisis was on the verge of striking.
Just then, Draugr, who had risen from his throne, plunged the tip of his sword into the ground. A dark, shadowy energy coating the blade seeped into the earth.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Bizarre sounds echoed from all directions. From the temple built of human bones, the undead began to crawl out.
"Groooooooaaaaaaaargh!"
The undead brandished chipped, rusted blades and let out guttural roars. There were about a hundred of them. However, their numbers would soon swell beyond control.
The specters began to trudge forward. Black ghost-fires flickered within their hollow eye sockets.
Finally, Abel opened her eyes. Wherever her gaze landed, there was only death.
Pitiful souls yearning for eternal rest. And among them was her father.
...Then, there was only one thing left to do.
She channeled her fierce resolve into her grip, feeling every ridge of her sword's hilt.
Abel spoke to Kang Geomma.
"As planned, I'll leave Draugr to you, Geomma. Shail and I will handle the rest."
"...Are you sure you're okay?"
At Kang Geomma's question, Abel gave a small nod.
With her current strength, she couldn't face Draugr. The only one who could stand against that monster was Kang Geomma.
Of course, she desperately wanted to save her father herself. But if she let her emotions sway her, she would ruin everything and die.
For now, she had to swallow her pride and trust him. Steeling her resolve, Abel spoke again.
"But promise me one thing. Please, my father..."
"I will."
The answer came before she could even finish her sentence. Kang Geomma untied the cord of Murasame. The exposed blade gleamed with a sharp, brilliant light.
Even then, the undead were marching forward, shrieking. Though their formation was ragged, their death-defying momentum was menacing.
With a soft hiss,
Finally, Murasame fully revealed its blade.
[The Blessing of the Sword God has manifested.]
Flash!
[▷NEW! The activation conditions for the Blessing of Painlessness have been met, and its duration has been adjusted as follows.]
[※ Duration: (50►60) seconds.]
Kang Geomma looked up. Standing at the summit was a monster wearing a human mask.
The ruler of death, Draugr.
"No matter if you're the King of the Dead or whatever."
The red lines drawn across the golden armor burned into his retinas. Staring at them, Kang Geomma let out a short chuckle.
"If you get cut, you die all the same."
++++++++++++++++++++++
《May the Blessing of God be with you.》
++++++++++++++++++++++
* * *
The undead army expanded at a rapid pace. What started as a hundred had swelled to nearly a thousand in just a few seconds.
The entire temple was a mountain of corpses. The mechanism was simple: whenever Draugr plunged his sword into the ground, wandering souls would inhabit the rotting flesh. It was an infinite army that kept coming no matter how many were cut down.
But.
—Slash!
A sharp beam of light severed an undead's neck.
Thud-thud-thud.
Leaving the rolling heads behind, Kang Geomma leaped once more.
Boom! The compressed air exploded,
and his figure stretched into a long blur as he tore through the enemy formation.
"Gwaaaargh—"
Thud.
A single shriek, followed by falling heads. Arms still clutching weapons flew into the air.
Mikellan's eyes spun a full 360 degrees as he tried to track the movement.
Even in that split second, the Sashimi tolled another death knell.
The sound that had filled the temple the moment they stepped inside—
Kuh-huuu-huuu-kuh-huuu-kuku-ru-huuu-huuu-kugu-huuu-huuu
—was suddenly replaced by—
—Squelch, stab, slash!
—the sounds of tearing flesh.
Abel and Shail, who were supporting Kang Geomma from behind, also showed magnificent skill.
Shail used her iron skewers to pierce the backs of the knees with pinpoint accuracy, neutralizing the enemies. Stabbing them in the heart, vital points, or solar plexus wouldn't kill these undead.
Instead, she targeted their legs to disrupt their formation. She had analyzed the situation in an instant and put her solution into action.
Brief contemplation, skipping hesitation, immediate action.
She navigated the enemy lines with the fluid, graceful movements of a gymnast. The stiff undead collapsed one after another before her agility.
Mikellan shifted his gaze slightly. Standing her ground, Abel cut down the undead as they rushed her.
Each arc of her blade swept through the enemies, popping off undead heads like kernels of corn.
At a glance, they were simple, almost plain slashes. Yet, the essence contained within them was flawless, devoid of any unnecessary movement.
Indeed, it was a sword dance that bore the traces of the First Sword Saint. Once she fully bloomed, she would undoubtedly draw infinitely close to the ultimate principles of the sword.
...But.
Mikellan's gaze returned to the front.
A towering wave of corpses surged forward. There was no sign of their multiplying numbers slowing down.
"Groooooaaaaaaargh!"
In the very center of it all stood Kang Geomma. He raised his Sashimi.
A halo of light draped over the blade. Aura surged and flowed along his entire forearm.
To manifest aura at such a young age... It was a feat possible only by mastering the profound mysteries and essence of the sword.
Just what had happened in the outside world during these past seven hundred years?
"Ha."
Kang Geomma took a short breath. Then, he quietly stared at the oncoming tsunami of corpses.
"Master Geomma!"
Mikellan gasped in shock. Right then, Kang Geomma swung down his Sashimi, which was wrapped in aura.
———————Slash!
"My God."
Mikellan could only watch in sheer astonishment.
The words he wanted to shout caught in his throat.
The undead's front line split wide open. In the gap of the cleaved wave of corpses, dark, sticky blood pooled and congealed.
Mikellan felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. This was perhaps the most shocking sight he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
"……."