Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Act 1 of the Performance, The Abandoned Mine Haunted by Evil Spirits (1)
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*
The boy huddled behind a rock, desperately trying to still his trembling hands. Cold sweat poured down like rain, stinging his eyes shut. Every time he blinked and his vision went dark, he jolted in terror, forcing his eyelids open.
‘I shouldn’t have come to a place like this!!’
His throat burned, his tongue cracked and dry. He’d bitten his lips until they swelled, the taste of blood filling his mouth. The boy curled into a tight ball behind the rock.
‘Mom, Dad. Save me. I’m sorry. Save me….’
A chill wind whistled past the nape of his neck.
The early spring warmth had vanished somewhere, leaving no trace of heat in this deep valley.
The boy’s village had a legend passed down through generations. [That forest has no gods.] A land forsaken by all the deities of the Holy Pantheon. A forest shrouded in darkness even at midday. The witch’s woods, where screams and moans rode the wind.
Sparse human presence meant untouched wilderness everywhere. Paradoxically, the forest teemed with life—or so it seemed. To a young boy’s eyes, it was a treasure trove scattered everywhere.
Firewood, fruits, even small animals that didn’t fear humans. The boy’s village was poor, and in poor mountain hamlets, it was common to boil tree bark for sustenance this time of year.
‘Mom, Dad….’
So the boy venturing deeper into the forest than usual wasn’t just chasing a plump rabbit. It was for his starving family and his dying little sibling’s next meal.
A chill wind whistled past.
Giggling followed.
‘Where… are… youuuu…?’
The horrific groans mixed in the wind drew closer.
‘Kyaaah!!’
‘Hee hee hee.’
‘Warm, warm, so warm.’
At first, he thought it was old folks scaring kids with jokes. When the forest darkened and strange voices mingled with the wind, he chalked it up to fear of the unfamiliar.
‘Cold, cold, cold, so colllld….’
When greenish flashes flickered from the shadows, a shiver ran through him, yet curiosity about the unknown ignited too. Stepping into the forbidden legend, uncovering its secrets—it felt like the opening of a hero’s tale.
The boy realized he wasn’t the hero when a massive shape emerged from behind a tree.
‘Grrk, grrk, greeek?’
“……!!!!!”
The twisted face of the huge figure tilted its head down at the boy—an almost surreal sight. The boy froze, speechless, staring at the monster. Its bluish-dead skin twisted as it parted thin lips slightly.
‘Grrk, hee.’
Jagged, needle-sharp teeth gleamed in the dark. No eyes on its face—just black holes where they should be. Suddenly, red blood trickled from the sockets as it thrust its face close.
‘Sniff, sniff, grk?’
“……Eek…….”
The monster’s face halted inches from the boy’s nose. That enormous head, nearly as big as the boy’s torso, hung in the air, twisting side to side. The boy backed away slowly, ever so slowly.
*Crack.*
“!!!!!”
A dry winter twig snapped under his foot. The monster’s head froze. It grinned. Inside its gaping maw, a parched throat gaped. Icy dread poured over the boy.
“Hiiiik!!! ”
‘Greeek. Grk. Hee. Hee hee hee.’
*Thud thud thud.*
The boy bolted blindly deeper into the forest, deeper still. How far did he run? His legs, rigid with tension, finally gave out.
A chill wind whistled.
Laughter and screams mingled in the gusts. The dark woods brimmed with ‘somethings’ emitting green flashes. They prowled the forest. Withered ghosts dragged winter in their wake. The air sliced like knives.
‘Great Sun, look upon me with mercy, save my soul from wandering in the cold grasp of the wicked….’
Whispering the prayer the circuit priest had taught him, the boy pressed tight against the rock, shivering. Perhaps thanks to the prayer, the wind seemed to still. He recited every prayer he knew, head bowed, sniffling.
‘Great Sun, look upon me with mercy, from the cold grasp of the wicked….’
‘Wick’d ones grasp cold in wander soul yer….’
A strange sound came from above his head.
‘Grasp cold yer wicked things in….’
What was that? The boy kept praying, forcing his stiff neck to turn. What?
‘Look upon mercy Sun great….’
*Drip.*
Red liquid splattered onto the back of his hand. The boy flinched. He couldn’t muster the courage to look back. Then he realized what it was. It was reciting his prayer—backwards.
‘Hee hee hee. Hee. Great Sun mercy. Hee hee.’
The boy slowly raised his head. Atop the rock he hid behind, a translucent monster glowing green grinned twistedly. It laughed maniacally, dripping red blood onto his face.
“Ah…….”
The monster’s hand reached out slowly, grasping the boy’s tear-streaked cheek. A soul-chilling dread made him collapse. His legs buckled; escape was impossible now. Death. That was all he saw.
‘Warm warm warm. Alive, alive, ali-iive.’
The monster groped slowly, clutching the boy’s cheek. Agonizing pain made him gasp open his mouth unwittingly. A twisted finger slithered inside.
“Gack, guhck. Khrrk. N-no, mouth…….”
‘Warm warm.’
The boy’s eyes fluttered shut. Was this death? Did he have to die like this? Would death bring ease? Mom, Dad, little sib. Save me. I’m sorry. His mind went white. Breath failed. As the cold thing slid down his throat—
Then. As the boy surrendered everything.
A voice pierced the darkness like searing light.
“Child. Rise.”
A kind, warm voice. The monster’s hand in his throat halted.
“Stand on your own two feet. Walk yourself. You can do it.”
The boy slowly opened his eyes at the voice, peering through tear-blurred vision past the evil spirit at someone beyond. A warm presence, felt even from afar, cleared his sight bit by bit.
A woman stood alone in the fearful, dark woods.
She smiled at the boy, stepping toward him one foot at a time. The evil spirit withdrew its hand from his mouth and clambered atop the rock. Thanks to that, the boy gasped ragged breaths, collapsing.
“Looks like I found him first.”
The woman chuckled softly. From somewhere far in the forest, a clear voice rang out.
“Benefactor! Found him! The kid’s here!!”
“I found him first, I say.”
As the woman shook her head with a pout, a beastkin woman burst from another direction. She drew her longsword, glaring at the prowling evil spirits. Her turquoise eyes gleamed clear.
*Step.*
A young man gripping a bloodied longsword appeared between the two women. Aristocratic features, flowing black hair, and gloomy blue eyes shining through. He raised his sword, pointing at the evil spirit on the rock.
“Are you watching me?”
‘Grk grrk?’
The young man drew a canteen from his bosom, slowly pouring water along the blade. Clear liquid washed the clotted blood away, the black gore sizzling as it burned off in the clean flow. His sword gleamed white in the dark.
*Step.*
He advanced slowly on the evil spirit. Pressured by his aura, it retreated a step before flashing green and screeching.
‘Shaaaa!!!’
“Gaaah!”
The boy below clutched his ears, screaming. Soul-rending pain made him writhe. The young man’s expression unchanged, he took another step.
“You’re listening, right? Necromancer. Can’t wait to meet you. So many questions.”
‘Shaaaa!!!’
The evil spirit shrieked, lunging at the young man. Tears of pain and confusion streamed as the boy watched blankly. In the brutal unreality, time slowed for him.
The spirit’s body glowed blue. The young man vanished behind it. Then a razor-sharp arc sliced the air. Like paper tearing apart, the spirit shattered.
*Shing, clank.*
Through the dispersing fragments, the young man sheathed his blade. The spirit wailed as it crumbled to dust and vanished. The boy finally sucked in breath, slumping.
Somehow, the dark forest felt brighter. I’ll never come back. The boy nodded amid terror. Never again.
The young man approached, stroking the boy’s hair and crouching.
“What’s your name?”
“E-Evan, sir knight.”
Barring the lord, “sir knight” was the politest title in the boy’s mind. The young man smirked.
“Coming into this forest alone. Very brave. But you won’t make it back by yourself.”
Carefully, he lifted the boy. Impossible strength from his slender frame. He hoisted the boy onto his shoulder with one arm.
*
The young man, Fernandez, was relieved the boy weighed less than expected as he walked. He couldn’t afford a slip here. The carefully built atmosphere and setup would crumble. Fernandez walked slowly, as if to not startle the boy, keeping balance.
‘So pretentious. Hard to watch with eyes open.’
‘What do you think this kid sees me as?’
‘…….’
‘Guess. Hero, savior, sir knight. Pick one. Multiple choice.’
Fernandez chuckled inwardly. The operation’s core was public sentiment and rumors. He had to be the noblest savior, hero, paragon of chivalry. Cherishing the people, valiant, purely faithful. Yes, like King Dane’s romances.
Slaughtering foes resembling those from the Knight King’s era in a place tied to his legends was easy. Harder was making it all seem coincidental.
Fortunately for Fernandez, ‘coincidence’ was on his side now.
[The Evil Spirits of the Black Forest]
They exploited nearby mountain villages with illusions and terror. A report to the Inquisition ten years ago deemed ‘no peculiarities,’ yet conveniently, they stirred now, with a poor village kid nearly their victim.
The Knight King Dane’s first foes were the Buried Church’s undead. From that moment to his end, his long feud with them began.
Thus, the first button had to be undead. A tribute to the great Knight King’s epic, for the legend of his return. Fernandez smiled in the forest shadows. Luck was good this time.
“Ah, the priest is waiting over there.”
At the forest’s edge, villagers gathered, awaiting him. Among them, a man in Shiled priestly robes extended hands toward them. Fernandez bowed politely, boy on his back.
“Knight Albert!”
The young priest beamed, approaching and making the holy sign. He nodded at the boy on his back.
“Impressive! Truly! Rescuing a boy from this cursed forest!”
“The gods blessed us.”
Fernandez smiled devoutly, tracing the holy sign. The priest recalled their first meeting, praying to Shiled. Meeting this faithful knight was a miracle. He purged evil spirits and slew monsters with justice, chivalry, and unyielding faith.
Their encounter began when a caravan vanished near the abandoned mine village, and a survivor fled to his parish begging for exorcism.