The Flesh That Does Not Bleed
The Vivian Cult.
‘He's another one I have no memory of. He probably died powerless in my past life without making a sound.’
Yet, in this life, their paths had crossed.
‘The future has already changed. There's no telling what he'll do if I leave him be. I have to make sure of this.’
What Deiar Hon had proposed was the exact opposite of Del Roan's goals.
Roan wanted as many people to survive as possible.
Not just his comrades, but the countless people of the continent.
And yet, this man wanted him to slaughter others with his own hands? Not a chance.
Roan channeled strength into the tip of his sword.
Despite the mounting tension, Deiar didn't even flinch.
"Are you rejecting the blessing? You could become far stronger than you are now, Del Roan."
"I'm not interested in destructive power."
"What a pity. Even so, I bless you. Let us speak again later, slowly, in a better place. Though by then, the rotten blood of this continent may have already been completely purged—"
—Slice!
There was no need to listen to any more of this.
A man with such dangerous delusions, who also possessed the power to act on them.
Roan didn't know what kind of deity Vivian was, but if he didn't stop this man here, his cult would undoubtedly fester and grow.
However.
"How truly disappointing... that you would swing your sword at me."
Even though Roan had felt the distinct sensation of cutting through flesh, and even though the man's head was currently rolling across the floor, the voice spoke as if nothing had happened.
It was a grotesque, bizarre sight—not a single drop of blood spilled from the wound.
"...What the hell are you?"
Faced with a phenomenon he had never encountered before, Roan demanded an explanation.
"It is the blessing of Lady Vivian."
The severed head was picked up by its own body.
Then, with casual indifference, the body placed the head back onto the neck.
Squelch.
With a wet, squelching sound of fusing flesh, the clean cut where Roan's sword had passed vanished, leaving the neck completely unblemished.
"Now that you have seen it with your own eyes, have you changed your mind? You, too, can become like this, Del Roan."
Refusing to give up, Deiar offered his hand once more.
Roan slapped it away instantly.
Silence fell over the space.
Yet, despite such blatant disrespect, Deiar only offered a gentle, serene smile.
"Even your defiance is beautiful. Conviction over power. A hand that casts aside temptation. Perhaps that is why Lady Vivian bestowed the blessing that is you upon us."
Beneath that gentle demeanor, his body began to turn translucent, fading away.
"What the hell are you doing...?"
"Let us end our meeting here for today. Simply meeting you, Del Roan, is a wonderful outcome in itself."
Roan slashed his sword through the fading torso.
But unlike before, when he had felt the blade bite into flesh, this time the sword cleaved through nothing but empty air.
"But mark my words, Del Roan. One day, without fail, you will stand by my side."
He was almost entirely gone now.
Even his voice seemed to be drifting away from this plane of existence.
"Until the day we meet again... I shall continue my plans to purify the rotten blood. Once everything is ready, I will extend my invitation to you once more."
He maintained that warm, benevolent smile.
An expression completely at odds with his deeply unsettling, inexplicable power.
Before the faint presence could vanish entirely, Roan threw his sword aside and lunged forward, reaching out.
"A futile struggle. My existence here has already—"
Grab!
"!?"
An unexpected sensation of solid contact.
His wrist, which had almost completely faded from reality, was gripped in a vice-like hold.
A mere human was somehow bypassing his god-given blessing and physically binding him.
"Finally, you look surprised. Didn't expect this, did you?"
"...It is only natural that I did not. To think a pure-blooded human could achieve such a feat."
Deiar's voice trembled.
It wasn't from shock or fear.
If anything, it was closer to pure ecstasy.
"Indeed. I absolutely cannot let a human like you slip away. I will make sure to visit you again."
The wrist Roan held so tightly dissolved into nothingness.
It wasn't teleportation magic. It was an unheard-of method of erasing one's very existence from the space.
As the last traces of his presence vanished, the flesh-colored space collapsed, and the original surroundings restored themselves.
It seemed this place, too, had been a pocket dimension of his creation.
‘...What the hell was that?’
An unexpected strength from a man he had never encountered in his past life.
If the man had shown outright hostility, Roan could have blocked his attacks and looked for an opening. But because he had approached with amicable intentions, Roan hadn't even had the chance to analyze his patterns.
Staring at the empty air where the man had slipped from his grasp, Roan suddenly thought of a certain comrade.
‘...Would things have been different if the shaman were here?’
The comrade who excelled at inflicting the most devastating damage on unknown, mystical entities.
Though he was the textbook definition of a lunatic who constantly spouted incomprehensible nonsense, his skills were undeniable.
‘He said he'd come back for me. I need to prepare...’
He now had another threat to worry about besides the seeds of destruction.
But there was little Roan could do on his own without a lead.
‘In the end, I need information. Whether I'm looking for my comrades or tracking down threats, I can't do anything without intel.’
The comrade whose entire body was covered in tattoos.
He needed to find that shaman's whereabouts before he could move on to his next plan.
Roan retrieved his sword and sheathed it.
Despite having just cleaved a man's neck, the blade was pristine, without a single drop of blood.
...
"Ah, you're back? Uh..."
"What's with that look on your face?"
Two exhausted figures, looking thoroughly drained after a rigorous training session, welcomed Roan back.
"...Something happened, didn't it?"
The quick-witted Debi Jane asked, immediately picking up on his troubled mood.
"Yeah, something did."
"For you to say that... it must be serious," Erian Belgard remarked.
"Yeah. He was a bizarre bastard. Slipped right through my fingers and vanished."
"You couldn't catch him? What the hell? Who was he? Someone you knew from your past life or whatever?"
Roan shook his head.
He had never seen or heard of him before.
But perhaps they might know something.
"Deiar Hon. Either of you heard of him?"
"...Deiar Hon? Never heard of him."
"Me neither..."
They both shook their heads.
Since Belgard, who had the most extensive network of connections here, didn't know him, the man truly must have been a complete ghost.
And it wasn't just Deiar Hon.
They didn't know who Vivian was, either.
Nor had they heard of the Feast of Flesh.
"...What on earth did you run into?"
"I don't know either. All I know is that a massive threat is heading our way."
"And how do you know that?!"
Jane massaged her temples, looking thoroughly exhausted.
Even when it had nothing to do with his past life, danger seemed to seek him out.
Perhaps the man named Del Roan was simply beloved by calamity and ruin.
The atmosphere grew heavy.
Roan was never one to dwell in gloomy silence.
"So? Are we heading out right away?"
Jane asked.
It was a confident proposal to break the tension.
"Oh? What's this? Did your training go that well? You looked like you were ready to die before we started."
"I did not! Well... though it's true the training went well."
"Even if she was incredibly anxious for the first couple of days," Belgard chimed in.
"Hey! Belgard!"
The heavy air dispersed.
It was thanks to the bright energy of his comrades, who had overcome their own anxieties.
"Anyway, we can't leave immediately. We don't have enough information."
"You said he just vanished... Are we going to wait for him to show up?"
"No. If we don't have clues, we'll have to dig them up ourselves. He left me with some very ominous parting words."
If they waited until he decided to show himself again, it would be too late.
They had to find his stronghold and strike first.
"How are we going to do that?"
"Newspapers, the black market, and rumors."
They had to utilize every resource available.
Since they hadn't found their information specialist yet.
"So, starting tomorrow, we split up. Jane, you handle the newspapers. Belgard, you gather rumors. I'll hit the black market. Sound good?"
"Sounds like a plan. We'll regroup every evening to share what we've found."
The discussion was swift, and the decision was firm.
Having efficiently divided their roles, they dispersed once more.
Meanwhile, at the black market.
"...You need information again?"
"Yes! Have you ever heard of the Feast of Flesh?"
The broker instinctively pulled his cloak tighter around himself.
"Not like that! It's a cult or something!"
"...A religion?"
"Yes. Led by a man named Deiar Hon... a very handsome blonde guy. I was wondering if you knew anything about him. And also the name Vivian."
The broker pondered Roan's words for a moment before slowly nodding.
Even though he was a major broker, Roan hadn't actually expected him to know!
Roan's expectations soared.
"Of course, I don't talk for free. You know the drill. If you want information..."
*Clink!*
Roan tossed a pouch of coins.
Money was always the best motivator.
"Very well. I'll tell you what I know."
The broker began to share his intel.
"A few months ago, people who looked practically naked started appearing. They used to be ordinary folks, but at some point, they began stripping their clothes off while chanting the name Vivian. I also heard them claiming they were granted a chance and given power by a man named Deiar Hon."
"That matches exactly what he told me."
It seemed Deiar hadn't targeted Roan out of some unique fascination, but simply because he wanted pure blood.
"They didn't cause any harm to the kingdom, but their behavior was highly suspicious. They started vanishing one by one, muttering about 'sacrifices'."
"Vanished? So they aren't around anymore?"
"Not anymore. Even those who didn't vanish initially have completely dropped off the grid."
The broker, who had intended to stop there, looked down at the heavy gold coins in his palm.
It was a generous sum for such basic information.
As a man of the black market, he had his pride and professional ethics. He couldn't just pocket this much gold and stay quiet.
"...I heard a rumor that a peculiar structure was recently built in the Elderin Highlands."
"A peculiar structure?"
"Yes. A building with a pink roof..."
A pink roof.
It was the exact same color as the roof in Wolf's Alley.
This was more than enough information.
Roan quickly grabbed the broker's hand and shook it vigorously.
"Ack! Urgh!"
"Thank you! This is incredibly helpful!"
Leaving the broker with a thoroughly mangled hand, Roan hurried back to their lodgings.
The other two had already returned, having finished their own investigations.
"Ah, Roan. Perfect timing. Belgard just got back too."
"Oh? You look pleased. Did you find something good?"
"Of course. Who do you think I am?"
"I found some great intel as well!"
It seemed all three of them had hit the jackpot.
"Excellent. Let's go one by one. Jane, you first."
"The Elderin Highlands."
Jane announced with absolute confidence.
"Huh...? Mine points to the Elderin Highlands too," Belgard said, blinking in surprise.
"Wait, really? Me too."
Roan chimed in last.
All of their separate investigations pointed to a single location.
With that, their next destination was decided.
The Elderin Highlands.
A desolate, sparsely populated region located just outside the kingdom's borders.
That was where they were heading.