Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 028
Chapter Title: See You Next Time
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A holy white flame blazed across one corner of the city, shining with divine radiance.
As Shan stared in awe at the majestic sight, wondering if some ferocious fire monster had appeared, Vent was the first to grasp its true nature and murmured softly.
"Flames of Purification!"
"Flames of Purification?"
"It's a secret technique now known only to a few Old Faith priests. A blaze that incinerates all unclean foes..."
Priests' miracles lacked the versatility of magic but excelled in certain areas.
Healing, support, and purification.
The Flames of Purification took that last concept to its most aggressive extreme, blending it with alchemy.
They burned hotter than normal fire, infused with purifying power, and even regenerated themselves without fuel to keep blazing.
Once ignited, oil consecrated through special rites burned pure white, erasing all unclean energies. It clung to stone walls without extinguishing, devouring and cleansing everything around it.
In modern times, using miracles in wars between humans was strictly forbidden, making such sights rare. But long ago, during the Religious Wars when the Old and New Faiths split, the two sides branded each other heretics and torched each other's cities with these flames.
"The Ajun Kingdom's Crusade Corps has arrived."
Jerpo finally realized what had emerged from the west gate and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"The Altoin expedition from before said they were chased by those guys and lost their haul. They must've scouted the city's location last time and come back to wipe it out for good. Damn it, talk about bad timing..."
Contrary to Jerpo's grumbling, they had actually arrived just in time.
If they'd come even a few days later, the Crusade Corps would've burned the whole city to ashes, leaving nothing but ruins.
Shan's green eyes identified the enemy and immediately turned back, heading for the south gate instead—but flames were rising there too.
The north and east gates were probably the same.
"We can't escape through the gates now."
"Let's use the sewers."
Roden grimaced in frustration, but Jerpo, who'd been deep in thought, offered a suggestion.
"The sewers...? Oh! The ones those Altoins used?"
"Exactly. According to the log, somewhere southeast—so it should be around here."
Luckily, the sewer entrance wasn't hidden at all.
The grate blocking it had been cut open by the previous Altoin expedition, making it easy to slip inside.
The tunnel was wide enough for five or six people abreast, so they lit torches and trudged through the dim path, cursing the Crusade Corps up above.
If not for those bastards, they wouldn't have to scurry like rats through the sewers.
"How many of them are there to burn a city this size from all sides?"
"Probably hundreds marching together."
Vent answered Shan's complaint in a low voice.
"In the Demon Realm?"
Large groups naturally slowed down marches, made supplying food and water harder, and securing safe camps nightly nearly impossible.
In the Demon Realm especially, clean water was almost impossible to find, amplifying the issues.
Plus, such noisy movements drew monsters like Banshees, which could shatter morale effortlessly.
To bless hundreds of soldiers with mind protection, you'd need dozens of priests—and even then, any loot from the Demon Realm wouldn't cover the costs.
Roden had his own theory.
"They're not like us, combing the Demon Realm for profit."
Unlike Pendia's profit-driven civilian expeditions, Ajun's Crusade Corps was more like a coalition of lords' forces.
Meaning knights and priests who back home would be busy defending their lands were mobilized en masse.
Of course, that made it a money-losing venture, as mentioned—but fanatical Old Faith zealots like them weren't after lost Alto relics or forgotten history.
Their holy war aimed to erase every trace of the old Alto Empire, demons' minions.
They believed enduring massive funds and lives lost would bring them closer to the Goddess.
"Insane fanatics!"
Jerpo muttered in outrage.
To this mage steeped in old Alto culture, the Crusade Corps' actions were monstrous atrocities.
Who knew what ancient Alto books might lurk in unexamined spots, waiting only for time...
But stopping them now was impossible.
No matter how mighty a warrior who soloed a Cockatrice, facing an army of knights and priests meant certain death.
"Hold up."
"What?"
"Something's coming from ahead."
As the sewer's end neared, Shan whispered and halted the group.
Almost immediately, flickering torchlight approached from the opposite direction, drawing a groan from Roden.
"Damn...!"
Soldiers from the Crusade Corps emerged—over twenty at a glance.
With their own torches lit, the foes spotted them instantly.
A young voice echoed eerily through the sewer's acoustics.
"What? Not a monster—people? We're the only ones guarding here, though?"
"Probably Pendian explorers, young master. They said they spotted demons around here last time..."
"Aha! You lot! Drop your packs now! We can't let demon filth spread into the world!"
At the 'young master''s command—clearly highborn—torchless soldiers nocked arrows aimed their way.
Refuse, and they'd loose immediately.
Roden's legs buckled at the sharp arrowheads; he squeezed his eyes shut.
Then Shan hurled his torch into a nearby pit—the old waterway—and shouted.
"Whoa—"
"Everyone, fall back!"
As he threw his own, Shan slashed the others' torches from their hands.
Jerpo and Vent finally understood, yanking the frozen Roden into the darkness.
Torches out, Shan's eyes glowed green—a Crusader yelled urgently.
"An Altoin! Traitors to the Goddess, demons!"
"Their comrades from before—they fled! Fire!"
A dozen arrows flew at the command.
Shan charged forward, swinging his longsword to bat away as many as possible.
His comrades lacked his dark vision or reflexes to dodge or parry.
Even in the chaos, Shan deflected two arrows with his blade, took one on his tattered chainmail's shoulder, and caught the last in his teeth.
Four or five more he couldn't stop—only luck to hope for.
"He's coming!"
The Crusaders dropped bows for spears and swords as green light rushed them.
But something was off about its speed.
The distance should've been far—yet it felt like he was riding a horse—
"Gah!"
The lead soldier's head split, blood and brains spraying.
A bluish-gray streak whipped from the dark—the Thousand Shapes, reformed from underwear into a chain sword, lashed out.
Four more died unseen beyond torchlight; one hurled a torch.
Revealed, the foe's tentacle-like weapon writhing made Crusaders cry out in horror.
"Demonic power!"
"He's casting magic!"
"Fall back, everyone!"
The word "magic" brought the young master's knight forward.
Most foul tricks crumbled before stout resolve.
The knight parried Shan's chain sword precisely with his shield.
A metallic screech— the shield's corner chipped.
"Nngh...!"
The knight grunted in surprise—but Shan was equally shocked, hiding it.
This chain sword that pierced Cockatrice stone skin only nicked the corner?
Even with aura for defense, it defied explanation.
Up close, the shield wasn't ordinary: alloyed with special metal, consecrated by priests, faintly glowing.
Fitting for Demon Realm crusaders, thoroughly equipped.
"Weak strikes! You'll never pierce me, no matter how many tries!"
The knight glared, bluffing to mask disadvantage.
Shan's glowing eyes marked his position in dark, but no real edge.
Couldn't see stance or incoming attacks till the last second.
The knight steadied for a charge.
Whatever the trick, its reach was superior—block the first, close distance.
'Flashy weapon, but power's underwhelming. Survive one hit, narrow the gap—'
A bluish streak shot from dark; the knight lunged with lifelong defensive mastery.
But,
"Urk!"
Against expectations, no whipping chain sword—a straight, long spear.
The aura-charged bluish spear pierced shield and throat together.
"K-Knight!?"
"Impossible...!"
The trusted knight's death broke them; demoralized Crusaders turned to flee.
Shan pursued, vertically cleaving a priest roaring for them to stand and fight.
After that, pure slaughter.
Fleeing or turning to resist—same helpless end.
Bright day might differ, but in torch-flickered shadows, tracking a whipping chain sword challenged even knights.
Shan, aura-boosted, kicked walls and ceiling, dominating in three dimensions.
Heads severed, necks slashed, limbs hacked...
Slaughtering mercilessly, Shan caught the lead 'young master' by the scruff, yanking him down.
Tear-streaked, snot-nosed, shockingly just a boy a few years older than Shan.
"Sob, ugh...!"
"More comrades outside?"
"Let go, demon! I'm Viscount Axion, His Majesty's nephew—aaagh!"
"Don't make me ask twice."
Thousand Shapes as dagger plunged above his collarbone; screams turned to choked sobs, then wails for mother.
"Mercy, Mommy..."
"More comrades outside?"
"Aaaagh! No, none! Others are at the gates!"
"Good."
Shan twisted the dagger for confirmation, slit the throat, then raced to his comrades.
The dry sewer channel sloshed with twenty mangled corpses' blood.
"All done!"
"That many?"
"Piece of cake compared to the Cockatrice... Ah!"
Up close, Shan saw Jerpo's shoulder and chest each pierced by an arrow, eyes widening.
Roden confessed guiltily.
"Damn, I should've shielded him upfront but froze... Sorry, Jerpo."
"It's fine... More importantly, outside."
Jerpo struggled to speak but didn't seem fatally wounded.
Roden carried him; Vent cast healing miracles as they went. Shan trailed with four horses from behind.
Passing the corpse pile, Shan glanced back thoughtfully.
'Oh, that...'
Corner chipped, holed, but sturdy shield—worth taking.
Emerging from sewers unscathed, the green eyes didn't look back, fleeing the city.
The killed leader claimed king's nephew—pursuers might follow.
Ignoring Demon Realm travel rules, their half-run forced march lasted days.
Despite the grueling pace, Jerpo improved quickly.
Anesthetic, arrow excised surgically, then healing miracles poured on.
Bad luck on vitals could've killed him on spot or slowed recovery.
Three days after shaking pursuit confirmed, they resumed southwest original path.
Detoured to evade, so nearly a month passed before green eyes exited Demon Realm for Shedil City.
"Finally..."
"Thought we were goners."
Vent and Jerpo sighed with mixed relief at Shedil's walls.
First attention inside: Cockatrice head, boldly displayed while relics stayed packed.
"What's that? Never-seen monster head."
"Huge."
"Stone skin. Cockatrice?"
"What? No way?"
"Impossible!"
Word spread; crowds gawked in shock at returning green eyes.
How'd an expedition with two warriors, priest, mage fell that beast?
Ignoring chatter, green eyes booked inn, bathed, crashed.
Next day, they gathered at Explorers' Guild first floor for farewells.
"Short time, but fun."
"Not that short. Round trips—nearly three months, right?"
"Already?"
Jerpo counted on fingers at Vent's words, sighing.
Many rookies died in first months; this wasn't brief.
Mostly second expedition dragged long.
"Anyway, how long to sell relics?"
"Planning six months to year leisurely. Don't want reprisals..."
Dumping haul now? Prices crash, plus admitting attacking Crusade Corps.
Few secured mass Alto relics returning then.
They struck first; self-defense—but world didn't work fair.
King's nephew dead—Ajuun zealots would demand punishment relentlessly.
Vent nodded agreement.
"Count Shedil won't bow to pressure, but caution never hurts."
This trip: Sell only Cockatrice magic stone, split with Vent, Jerpo.
Shan, Roden hold relics, trickle-sell later as "newly acquired."
Months more in Shedil, but profits made it worthwhile.
"Well then..."
"See you next time!"
Vent, Jerpo's shares went to monastery/school—no need here.
Trusting Shan, Roden enabled this.
Sharing nation-shaking treasures, killing neighbor king's kin—no debt worries.
Thus, Green Eyes disbanded months after forming, like most.
But achievements? Worlds apart.
After they left, Shan told Roden, voice deflated.
"Feels weird."
"What?"
"Just... when longtime companions vanish, this emptiness hits."
Like Sir Darkal vanishing.
Roden chuckled.
"Life's endless meetings, partings. Can't cling forever. Say you grow up, start family—you won't stick with me then."
"Family..."
Never imagined; Shan pictured unknown wife beside him, child blending their looks.
'Green eyes—wait, rare trait doesn't pass easy.'
As Altoin, child definitely Altoin regardless of wife—but hard to envision.
Rocksi-like mild traits? Or wildly unique?
"What?"
Roden eyed Shan's groaning confusion, baffled.