Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: As the Legend Goes: Slaying the Monster in the Swamp
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Fernandez felt Mumto's glaring eyes on him as he raced toward the royal castle. Like all great demons, Mumto possessed an unparalleled sense of pride. Perhaps because he had once been mortal, the demon craved fame even more greedily and sought to secure his domain.
And this was the result. Mumto wanted to witness every moment his minions rampaged through this world with his own eyes.
‘That’s his fatal flaw.’
The Nightmare Mumto groaned beneath the seal of the ancient pantheon. If such a being was projecting his blessing through the cracks in that seal himself, it would inflict massive damage on him from a macro perspective.
Fernandez glanced sidelong at the dark greenish spirit bodies darting through the black rain. They shrieked as they were torn apart, drifting in search of the living. The city was slowly being swallowed by death.
-No magic, no weapons. Well, Fernandez? How will you deal with the wraiths?
‘With blood.’
On the long boulevard stretching toward the royal castle, Fernandez gripped his dagger tightly and whispered.
‘Do you remember when we sealed Tetragalan?’
-The three elements of holy spells?
‘Right. Invocation, prayer, miracle.’
I beseech you, fill my spirit and flesh to the brim, and be my rock. Amid his disgust, Fernandez quietly recited the prayer. In truth, it wasn’t so different from chanting a magic spell. A single drop of a saint’s blood in place of a sacrifice.
-Shhhk.
Fernandez slashed his right arm with the dagger in his left hand. His right arm, shattered by Chelini’s magic, felt no pain—perhaps a fortunate side effect. Blood trickled along the dagger’s blood groove, mingling with the black rain.
-Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded wildly, circulating the Religiosa Demonica blood through his body. A response to the prayer. Fernandez shook off the heat rising in his head, struggling to maintain his composure. Religious ecstasy was never helpful, no matter the moment.
‘I am not your dog, Beitasser.’
-Hiss...
The black rain sizzled and evaporated fiercely where it mixed with the saint’s blood. Everything influenced by Mumto’s magic began to crumble slowly, centered on his blood and spirit.
-Kiiii!
-Yes, yes! That one.
-Our master remembers you, knight.
-Our master is very, very interested in you...
-For your insolence!
Fernandez ignored the groans, screams, curses, and laments of the wraiths brushing past him as he charged forward. In any case, wraiths lacking sufficient rank couldn’t approach him. The end of the boulevard came into view. The land of death shattered in his wake.
“...Please, save us...”
“Salvation... Salvation...”
“So cold... O God. Shild. Grant us light...”
Choked groans echoed across the city. Beneath Mumto’s gaze, mortals writhed in terror and agony, crumbling away. He could feel hope dissolving into the rain. Fernandez could easily spot dozens of such souls in his field of vision right now.
-We can’t save them all, Fernandez. And if you stop now, you’ll abandon even those you could save.
‘Right.’
-Our role isn’t that of saviors. We couldn’t even save ourselves.
‘True.’
Fernandez did not stop. Like the sea parting, like silk tearing. Following the blood he shed, following his sprint. The land of death split in two, centered on the long path from the boulevard to the royal castle entrance.
Moonlight shone down. Fernandez ran following the light piercing through the clouds. Modern magecraft held that the moon was the sun’s mirror—
And the sun was the radiant god of the pantheon, the symbol of Shild.
‘Shild is blessing us.’
Though the passion filling him to the crown of his head cooled, and fatigue from blood loss and wounds dragged at his feet. He did not stop. New strength couldn’t guide him every time. But he had never stopped, not for a single moment.
Shild’s light halted at the royal castle entrance. Fernandez slowed to a walk, gazing at the castle shrouded in black clouds. Around him, citizens chilled and terrified by fear gathered.
To them, he was the city’s sole light. No wraiths, no black rain, no dreadful aura of death could approach him.
“Sir knight... Save us...”
“Sir knight...”
-Fernandez.
Feizashi’s voice, laced with worry, reached him. Fernandez paused, looking at the citizens clutching desperately at his clothes. He felt the thick terror in their eyes.
Pity is the posture of the faithful. But I am not Beitasser’s dog, nor the pantheon’s hunting hound. Fernandez closed his bloodshot eyes. One more step. Into those shadows.
“Ah... Sir knight.”
“Sir knight.”
-Ignore them. We’ve already borrowed enough tears to share their sorrow.
‘Feizashi. What if.’
Fernandez took another step and paused again. He murmured, gazing at the moonlight fading faintly as it was devoured by the massive thunderclouds.
‘What if it had been the Knight King?’
-Don’t talk nonsense. We planned this stage for the play.
‘I know, Feizashi. I know. We can’t be heroes or kings.’
-Splash.
The boulevard floor was a muddy mire soaked in black rain. Like a swamp, mud roiled, wrapped in clouds. He was sinking one step deeper into that distant swamp.
-Kiiiiing...
His spirit vision flared. Before his eyes appeared the core of the black clouds blocking the royal castle entrance. Dark green magic sealed the entrance tight. There was no choice but to press forward to break through.
-Step.
At the center of that magic stood a single figure. Low-rank wraiths swirled around the man, endlessly spewing black mist. Towering height, massive build, a knight in black armor covered in screaming faces.
Through the necropolis magic swirling around his body, the knight’s true face faintly gleamed.
“Sir Bayemier...”
-Caught in the land of death. Round Table knight.
It was Bayemier. His face was much younger than the last time he’d seen him, but despite the pallor and blackened eyes, Fernandez pierced the knight’s essence.
-Shing.
[Come, traitor.]
Bayemier drew his longsword with a groan crushed by madness, thrusting it at him. He growled in a boiling voice.
[The royal family’s... honor!]
“The work of the Necropolis Conclave. Paf Tet’s madness. Your doing, I presume.”
Fernandez whispered, sensing the wraith laughing beyond Bayemier’s eyes. His spirit vision had identified it. A being he’d encountered in his past life.
Paf Tet, a member of the Necropolis Conclave. The mastermind behind the abandoned mine village.
The wraith cackled down at him from afar, within the palace. Fernandez took another step toward Bayemier and said.
“Wait there, Paf Tet.”
[What can you do?]
The wraith’s words echoed like an auditory hallucination through his spirit vision. Fernandez kept his eyes on Bayemier’s trembling hand and wailing face, taking another step. He gripped his dagger tight.
“Judgment.”
Bayemier let out a grotesque scream and lunged. Immense speed and weight!
-Kwachijik!!
Bayemier’s sword halted midair. Fernandez’s dagger blocked it, forming a cross guard. Enormous force. Fernandez shook off the pressure on his arm.
-Thoom!
Bayemier immediately shoved him with his shoulder. The impact struck Fernandez’s chest, shock rippling outward. Bayemier’s sword flew toward his neck like a magnet.
-Clang!
Blades clashed, sparks flying wildly. In that brief gap, Fernandez glimpsed Bayemier’s contorted face. Confusion, madness, rage, hatred. Emotions swirled across it.
-Clang! Clang! Clang!
Fernandez parried Bayemier’s sword, retreating step by step. The difference in length between longsword and dagger couldn’t be ignored easily. Bayemier’s swordsmanship was dulled by madness, but that didn’t make him any less formidable.
-Karduk!
Fernandez halted, stomping the ground hard. His boots sank heavier into the mud. But there was nowhere left to retreat. Citizens drawn by the moonlight crowded right behind him.
-Kwachijik!
Cracks spread across his dagger. Moonlight settled on Bayemier’s sword, gleaming coldly. Fernandez watched the longsword swing slowly.
If he dodged or retreated. In that split second, his gaze flicked to the trembling citizen in the sword’s path. Instinctive. His wounded right arm intercepted Bayemier’s blade.
-Shhhk!
The longsword sliced his arm, agony slamming into his brain. His severing arm and the flowing blade seemed to slow, frozen. Moonlight pierced the clouds for a brief moment, illuminating his head.
“O God...”
Terrified citizens’ sighs whispered in his ear.
Moonlight scattered above his head, forming a faint halo.
*
Thirty years after the pantheon sealed its gates, in an age when miracles no longer descended upon civilized society. The citizens of Altbert gazed at a young man battling the black knight.
Wounded, clutching a single dagger. As the young knight advanced without fear, citizens gathered one by one, seeking light and salvation.
A short but fierce fight continued. As the young knight’s dagger began to shatter, the black knight’s sword glanced off, falling toward the citizens.
-Shhhk.
In that instant, the young knight thrust out his right arm to take the blade. Blood sprayed everywhere, halting the black knight’s movement. Everyone there stared at the pure white halo floating above the youth’s head.
“O God...”
The deathly aura enveloping them staggered and crumbled. The curtain of darkness receded, scattering the black clouds over the royal castle entrance. The one-armed youth took a step toward the frozen black knight.
*
-Fool.
Feizashi’s scolding rang in Fernandez’s ear. Even through the daze of pain and blood loss, his voice rang crystal clear. Fernandez gripped the crumbling dagger and walked step by step toward Bayemier.
Bayemier stood stunned, eyes wide in shock. Fernandez slowly pressed the dagger to his throat.
[Fernandez... End it...]
“Rest in peace, Bayemier of Althais.”
[May Shild’s blessing be with you.]
-Stab.
-Kwachijijik!!
Reason returned to Bayemier’s voice. Fernandez gave no reply, plunging the dagger deep into his throat. At that moment, the death magic cloaking the castle walls shattered.
Into it. Fernandez walked, blood dripping from him.