Huff... Heave...!
A paladin sprinted through the forest. Darkness enveloped everything around him. From the shadows came sounds: raindrops pattering, leaves rustling, and eerie whispers of unknown origin mingled with the screams of his fellow paladins. In the forest's gloom, those noises rang out immense and chilling.
Terrified, he hurled his spear to the ground and clamped his hands over his ears as he ran. How far had he gone? Darkness everywhere, identical scenery and atmosphere no matter which way he turned—he couldn't even tell where he was. The unidentified screams of his comrades plunged him deeper into horror.
He recalled the moment blessing light had emanated from the forest. The captain had said she would signal with divine power if she spotted the cult leader. Shortly after she entered the woods, a glow of blessing light rose from the darkness. It was her signal—not just that she'd found the cult leader, but that she herself was unharmed.
Emboldened, the squad advanced into the forest toward the light, weapons in hand, smug smiles on their faces, certain of victory.
"...Huh?"
But when they finally reached the light, the paladins could only voice their confusion. No sign of the captain. No cult leader either. Instead, there stood a grotesque plant statue. Woven from thread-thin stems, it resembled a suffering savior tormented by human sins. Clearly crafted for some profane purpose. The cult leader's handiwork, without a doubt.
The paladins unleashed divine power as torches, illuminating the darkness in search of the captain and cult leader. Still nothing. At least not nearby.
"Gaaahhh─!!"
Splat!
A paladin standing before the statue screamed and stumbled back, collapsing. So startled, he panted uncontrollably, hands trembling violently. His comrades, who had been milling about in search of the captain and cult leader, rushed over.
"What's wrong? See a ghost or something?"
"Th-the statue. That's not a statue...!"
"What? What's with the─"
Someone directed divine power at it. The dimly visible statue came into full view.
"Ah..."
It wasn't a statue. It was the captain, who had entered the forest first. Her entire body was encased in those thin plant stems. Only her face showed, frozen in an expression of utter shock. Her mouth moved ceaselessly, murmuring something incomprehensible. Tears streamed from her eyes nonstop. Her breathing was steady. She was alive, yet she didn't seem alive at all.
Several paladins screamed and backed away at the sight.
"C-Captain! Are you okay?!"
A few level-headed ones called out to her, trying to yank and snap the binding stems. But the stems were impossibly tough, unyielding even to their pulls.
Seeing their captain, so calm and unflappable that no one ever rattled her easily—the one they all relied on in operations, whom some men secretly loved—now utterly broken and mad, bound head to toe... The squad was devastated. They lost their will to fight in that instant, staring at their statue-like leader. The sense of loss was overwhelming.
Then rage surged. Rage at the cult leader who had done this.
The paladins dispelled the darkness with their divine power, faces illuminated by the blessing light, locking eyes. Rage turning to resolve.
Slice!
"Grahhh─!"
Before resolve could fully take hold, a gruesome severing sound and scream rang out. One blessing light winked out. A wrist severed, naturally halting the divine power emission.
The paladins looked up in unison. Another light floated in the darkness. Too dim to call light—it was shadow bleeding into shadow, sinister and faint. Shaped like a sword.
Screams echoed from somewhere. From the sword forged of that ghastly light.
The cult leader gripped the sword, hanging from tree roots, gazing down at the paladins.
"Cult leader...!"
Slice!
Before they could prepare for battle, the cult leader's sword severed another wrist. Another light vanished.
Slice, slice...
"Agh, hngh. Uwaa, ah..."
"A, aaaah─!"
Severing sounds continued relentlessly, screams filling the air. Lights winked out one by one until the last faded. The darkness-dispelling glows extinguished completely, shadows reclaiming the space. Deep darkness descended upon the paladins.
The cult leader swung from roots and leaves like a flying beast, effortlessly slicing wrists here and there. Freely navigating the forest, wielding the sword with masterful skill—like a predator incarnate.
Screams never ceased. The mad captain's whispers and the squad's wrist-severed wails filled the gloom.
"Ah, ah..."
By sheer luck, his wrists intact, he mumbled dazedly and backed away. He retracted his divine power and bolted in some random direction. Even as he ran, the captain's whispers and comrades' screams pursued him.
"Urp, uweeeck...!"
Running until he could barely breathe, nausea hit. He bent over and vomited right there.
They were all dead. Or mad like the captain. He'd survived on their sacrifice. The thought was unbearably sad and sickening.
He wiped his tears and looked up.
"..."
Speechless. Emotion swelled at the sight before him.
Light. Far off, faint but there. He'd reached the forest's edge. He could escape. Survive...
Joy brought fresh tears. He limped toward it—ankle sprained from running, but elation drowned the pain.
Crunch!
Finally, he burst from the forest. Brilliant light blinded eyes accustomed to dark; his head throbbed, mind reeling. As his hazy vision cleared, awareness returned.
He realized he was surrounded by people.
"...A paladin."
Yuk Eun-hyeong. And his mercenaries stared blankly down at him.
Clang!
So Do-jin swung his sword. Aimed to shred the poncho, but it was effortlessly blocked by the cult leader's staff.
Good—he'd figured out the cult leader overreacted to attacks on the mask and poncho. The problem? Her reactions were blindingly fast; even nicking them was near impossible.
Still, So Do-jin pressed the attack. If her reactions were fast, just attack faster. Plus, she wore the mask now, narrowing her vision. Exploit that blind spot, and victory was possible.
Scraaaape!
Sword met staff in a shower of sparks. So Do-jin gripped tighter. The clashing blades trembled.
He'd meant to slice the staff, but it felt like iron, not wood—unbreakable.
Then, the cult leader's hand shot toward his face.
"Guh...!"
Aim to rip off his voodoo gas mask. So Do-jin reflexively jerked his head back. She seized the instant, clenching a fist.
So Do-jin slammed his sword into the ground and swung wide at her.
Splash!
Rain-soaked dirt splattered, clinging to her mask. Seizing the moment her vision was obscured, So Do-jin retreated and re-aimed.
The cult leader wiped the mud from her mask and gripped her staff hard.
They glared, locked in standoff. A moment of silence.
So Do-jin held back from attacking rashly. So did she.
Why? No opening. Everyone has a split-second gap. So Do-jin excelled at exploiting them.
But the cult leader showed none.
"..."
Mask hid her gaze. Poncho concealed her stance. And her reactions were insanely quick. As if she knew his swordsmanship.
Maybe they'd sparred before, under guise of training. If she mingled among Romanica clergy.
Splatter!
Suddenly, she unleashed voodoo magic. A spell circle formed instantly. Voodoo mist billowed, engulfing So Do-jin.
No issue. His gas mask immunized him against most spells.
Instead of dodging, he charged head-on. Best time to strike: while she drew the circle, focus divided.
Sword tip aimed, he lunged. Sweeps were too easy to block. Thrusts were harder to parry.
Scraaaape!
He sensed something off after kicking off the ground toward her.
Two circles. One spewed mist; the hidden one birthed a violet dagger amid grinding metal shrieks. She grabbed it and hurled it—not at him, but his gas mask.
So Do-jin halted, twisting to dodge. It grazed the mask.
Crack!
A fracture spiderwebbed. Air hissed faintly. Tiny crack, but fatal. Mist seeped in.
The mask filled with voodoo fog. His eyes rolled back. Consciousness blurred.
He fought to cling with willpower. But each breath drew in more fog, worsening it.
He tore off the mask. Held his breath. Tried to resist that way.
But his body melted like liquid, slumping to the ground. Sword slipped from his grasp.
Consciousness faded distantly. Through dimming vision, the cult leader approached.
I'm dying. So pointlessly.
Mask, poncho. Couldn't even scratch her coverings. No mark on her body.
She'd subdued him with pure martial arts and voodoo. No Loa powers even.
Minimal effort overwhelmed him. Humiliating. Infuriating.
Not at his weakness. But realizing no matter how he swung, he couldn't wound her. For a fleeting moment, the despair: a lifetime of effort wouldn't beat her. Powerless, frail.
"In Adonai's name."
Then—a voice, crystalline and pure, slicing the silence. So holy and beautiful, it seemed inhuman.
Ha Ye-jin clasped hands to her chest in prayer. Divine power roiled thickly around her. It detached, forming a massive cloud.
"...Amen."
Rumble─!!
She opened her eyes, prayer done. Blood-red hail laced with embers poured from the cloud, engulfing the cult leader's head.
(To be continued next time)