Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The One Who Sharpens Names (1)
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Kadim thrust his dagger into the demon's neck.
Pfshk... splurt...
He had pierced the artery precisely, but no jet of blood spurted out. It had been quite some time since the heart had stopped beating. Still, a fair amount of the pooled blood drained out.
Kadim collected it, filling a leather waterskin about halfway. That should be enough for emergencies. With this, he had achieved his goal for visiting the village.
Butchering a demon was a spectacle no one there had ever seen in their lives. Adults and children alike swarmed over in a panic like a hive of bees. Yet when the barbarian collected his blood and prepared to leave, the villagers were at a loss.
The man who had lent him the handaxe stepped forward and asked,
"Um... what will you do with the rest of the body, sir mercenary?"
"I don't need it. Burn it."
"Pardon?"
The man's eyes went wide.
A demon's corpse was worth money. Everyone in the village assumed Kadim had hunted it for profit. So why take only the blood and burn it without a second thought? They couldn't make sense of it.
Then, a glint of sly greed entered the man's eyes.
Whatever the story, this was an opportunity. If they kept the body and sold it later to a holy knight or a merchant from the alliance territories, they could make a tidy sum...
Kadim read the man's intentions. He shot him a cold glare as a warning.
"If you don't burn it now, the smell of blood will spread. Monsters will sniff it out, devour the corpse, and turn it into a 'beastkin.' Do you want to face another raid by frenzied goblins?"
The man flinched and trembled. All eyes in the village turned to him. He mumbled something about burning it right away and hastily dragged the demon's body off.
Back at the hut, Kadim unwrapped the cloth and checked the wound on his forearm. Fortunately, this body still had excellent regenerative abilities. The gash from the demon's claws had scabbed over nicely without any infection and was healing well.
But the wound from the holy knight's spear was another story.
Kadim touched the spot below his shoulder. A throbbing pain, a rising heat. It had been over ten days since the stab, yet the agony lingered. He had disinfected it multiple times with saltwater and packed it with crushed herbs, but it refused to heal properly.
'Damn it... that was no ordinary spear...'
The 'Plaguebearer' that froze wounds. It might even have an effect that slowed recovery. The only small comfort was that he had left the same wound on the holy knight's corpse.
He couldn't afford to lie around convalescing for weeks, injury or no. Business was done; it was time to go.
In thanks for finding their child, the villagers had given him practical items instead of money: leather boots, a belt, provisions, camellia oil for blade maintenance, a whetstone, and so on.
He laced up the waxed leather boots. He loosely buckled the belt with its iron rings. On one side, he hung his sword; on the other, the skin of demon blood.
The handaxe he had borrowed initially was ruined from smashing the cave ceiling, so he took an axe from another house. The iron was softer and the handle weaker than before, but better than nothing.
With light baggage, preparations were quick. As Kadim gave his simple gear a final check and picked up his bag, Duncan entered the hut.
"My lord! You're leaving already?"
"Yes. Get your clothes on, you too."
"Why not rest today and leave tomorrow? Your wounds haven't fully healed yet..."
Kadim slowly shook his head. There was a reason he couldn't dawdle.
"By now, witnesses will have come forward. They might overlook soldiers and prisoners, but killing a holy knight isn't something they'll ignore. If we're unlucky, pursuit could be on us."
Duncan's eyes lit up. He had forgotten amid the hardships of the journey. This monstrous barbarian had slain a holy knight of the Elga Church.
Technically, he had been dragged along against his will, but pursuers wouldn't buy that. If caught, he'd be branded an accomplice with no defense. Duncan switched gears in an instant, frantically dressing in a flurry.
Once ready, the two headed to the village edge. The residents gathered to see them off. The adults bowed deeply to Kadim in unison, while a few children who had grown attached wailed, clinging to Duncan's sleeve.
But most of the children taken by the demon remained dazed. Their hollow gazes stared into a distant darkness, as if they were already dead.
As they left the village and entered the forest path, Duncan let out a bitter sigh.
"Hoo... Seeing kids that age who should be smiling all day look like that sits heavy on the heart. Still, they'll recover soon enough, right, my lord?"
"No. They won't."
"...Pardon?"
The barbarian, well-versed in demons, laid out the cruel reality.
"Those children were brainwashed by the demon for nearly half a day. 'Your parents abandoned you. You're the most worthless child in the world.' Even a steadfast priest's mind would shatter under that whisper, let alone kids whose blood hasn't even dried. They're beyond recovery."
"...!!!"
"Actually, it wasn't even brainwashing. Their parents did abandon them—it's fact. The demon just etched it indelibly into their minds."
Duncan's face drained of color. Kadim continued with a grim look in his eyes.
"Betrayed by parents who were their whole world, forced to relive it endlessly—those kids won't grow up normal. They'll trust no one, love no one, feel no joy. Cold-blooded shells. They might even descend into madness from nightly nightmares."
"M-Mercy... Such horror... Why would a demon do that?"
"That's a demon's nature. Human suffering and despair are their greatest joy and sustenance. As natural as animals breathing or plants drawing water from the soil."
Duncan was speechless.
Now he understood why Kadim had said, 'If the demon weren't so cunning and vile, it would have just killed the children.' Until now, he had vaguely seen demons as 'dangerous monsters if encountered.' But their true essence was far more horrific and grotesque.
'Wait... then what about this man, who hunts them deliberately, drinks their blood... just who is he...?'
Duncan stared at Kadim in bewilderment.
His questions about the barbarian warrior kept piling up. Why did he know demons so well? How did demon blood grant superhuman strength? Why head to the Magic Tower...?
He doubted he'd get straight answers. It might even sour the mood and waste the progress made. So Duncan asked something else.
"St-Still, my lord, if the parents repent and care for them sincerely, couldn't they recover? There's that saying—sincerity moves heaven."
"It's not impossible. But..."
Kadim trailed off and glanced sideways. Duncan instantly grasped the meaning.
Parents who abandoned them to save themselves—think they'll manage that?
"..."
Duncan bit his lip and dropped his gaze.
Early afternoon, just past noon. Gentle sunlight, fresh greenery, and a plain overrun with maggots and swarms of flies.
A woman in plate armor strode fearlessly through the corpses. Golden hair swayed in the breeze, emerald eyes scanning the dead. Soon, she spotted another body clad in armor marked with the same ten-pointed star emblem as hers.
In a businesslike tone, she muttered,
"So here you were, Linton Pelliferus."
The head was crushed and rotting beyond recognition. Fortunately, holy knights had surer ways to identify their own. She raised her hand, signaling she had found the target.
Moments later, another holy knight approached. He too wore plate armor and a steel helm with a blue plume pulled low.
From behind his visor, the man frowned slightly.
"Are you certain it's Linton Pelliferus, Lady Helia? Could it not be another holy knight...?"
The woman showed her displeasure openly, right in his face.
"How dare you question your superior's judgment? I saw it with my own eyes at the ordination. This is definitely Linton Pelliferus's Plaguebearer."
"..."
The man pretended not to hear and cautiously approached the body. After a close look, he clicked his tongue.
"Looks like the enemy took the Plaguebearer briefly. But this spear wound isn't the direct cause of death. Probably struck in the head first with a blunt weapon—dead before that."
"Hah, did you have to go all the way there to figure that out? Even a three-year-old could see it... No wonder a 'paladin' so long after ordination hasn't advanced. There's always a reason, Edan."
A vein throbbed on Holy Knight Edan's forehead. But he dared not argue.
This woman, Helia Munel, held the rank of Arch Paladin—the empire's youngest, having ascended after single-handedly slaying twenty demons.
Her personality was foul, but her skills were undeniable. A mere paladin like him couldn't challenge her. Edan could only grimace and grit his teeth behind his helm.
Helia, unperturbed, ordered in a bored tone,
"Enough obvious talk. Speculate on the culprit's intent. They slaughtered every prisoner too—not a rescue. No theft of soldiers' gear... Why mutilate the demon corpse? What godless group would do this...?"
One person butchering a holy knight and so many others defied common sense. Naturally, they assumed a group or organization was behind it.
But progress stalled there. Silence fell as they pondered deeply.
Finally, Helia made her decision and extended her hand.
"No helping it. Edan, bring out the holy relic Archbishop Erensko gave us."
"...You mean 'Damian's Twin Mirror'? Please reconsider, Lady Helia. The other mirror broke less than ten years ago."
'Damian's Twin Mirror' reflected future and past scenes. So precious it was rarely lent out—except this time. The slain holy knight, Linton Pelliferus, was the archbishop's nephew.
Originally a pair as the name implied, now only the past-viewing one remained. The future one had shattered reflecting a 'terribly mighty being.'
Helia ignored Edan's warning. She wrinkled her nose and haughtily lifted her chin.
"Who said it'd break? It was given for when investigations stall. Would you rather report to the archbishop yourself that we can't explain Linton's death?"
"..."
"Stop fretting. It won't shatter unless it shows an 'archdemon'..."
Edan reluctantly produced the relic. As Helia reflected the plain's scene, multi-angle illusions appeared on the mirror.
The procession of holy knights and soldiers escorting prisoners. Unexplained brief chaos. Linton impaled one prisoner. A barbarian prisoner rushed the rear, smashed a crate. Then he tore into the demon corpse and began slaughtering soldiers wildly...
Crash!
...The mirror shattered spectacularly.
The two holy knights stared at each other in shock. A broken mirror meant one thing.
It had just reflected a being on par with an archdemon.
Edan traced the holy sign with trembling fingers.
"Mercy, Lord Elga... What madness is this... Lady Helia, we must return to the holy city and report..."
But Helia composed herself and commanded firmly,
"No. The culprit's revealed—why return? We'll keep searching."
"...Pardon?"
"That hooded fiend dies by my hand."
A sly smile curved the ambitious Arch Paladin's lips.
"...We'll camp here tonight."
"Y-Yes, my lord..."
Time had passed since traveling with the barbarian. Duncan deftly set up camp and laid out a wool blanket. He grabbed flint and a pot, heading to the stream.
He filled the pot with water, sprinkled roasted oat flour, and chunked in carrots, potatoes, and such. Thanks to the hillfolk's provisions, there was decent food tonight.
But the merchant's expression was glum.
'Never trust anyone, never love, maybe go mad...'
Thinking of those village children's future ruined his day. His own eight-year-old son's face kept surfacing.
Duncan shook his head vigorously. He couldn't stay gloomy. To appease the barbarian and return safely to his family, he needed to force some cheer.
"Hoo, hoo...! Ah, hot hot..."
He lit the kindling with flint, boiled it bubbling, then lifted the pot when done. Praying it pleased the barbarian.
"Here! Hot dinner's served!"
But returning to camp, Duncan could only gape in horror.
"Wha...? M-My... l-lord...?"