An Evil Spirit
Roan voiced his thoughts.
He suggested that it wasn't a guardian spirit at all, but an evil spirit—one that had developed a taste for blood and was now demanding sacrifices.
And as always, his voice carried a strange, persuasive weight.
It actually is a highly persuasive argument, now that I think about it.
She hadn't given it much thought before, but looking at it now, it certainly felt that way.
"So? What's the plan?"
"There's no need for a complicated plan. It looks like it's about time anyway."
"True. The storm is only getting fiercer by the minute..." Belgard agreed.
Just as Belgard said, the fury battering the stone walls was growing more violent.
It was a natural wrath capable of turning heaven and earth upside down.
Yet, hearing Roan's words, it felt less like wrath and more like a temper tantrum.
It feels more like a child screaming to be fed...
Rumble...
The acrid scent of pulverized stone, ground down by the colliding rocks, stung their noses.
The clatter of gravel pelting the stone walls echoed like the war drums of a battlefield.
But there was one crucial difference.
Those who possessed the blood of warriors were willingly feeding the beast.
It was a bizarre spectacle: men covered from head to toe in intricate tattoos rushing toward a single spot.
The highest-ranking figure among those gathered at the altar reached inside.
"O, Spirit of the Heavens! Today, we have prepared another fresh vessel for you! Please! Accept the flesh of this child and look over Horoljulol once more!" he wailed toward the sky, placing something onto the altar.
It was a massive set of shackles holding a bound man.
"...His hands and feet have all been broken..."
To prevent any resistance, a man with shattered wrists and ankles lay bound to the frame.
His long hair was disheveled.
Intricate tattoos covered him from his forehead to his toes.
He possessed a frame even larger than Roan's.
Though his massive build hardly matched the description of a timid soul, the sheer density of his tattoos made it clear: this was Charbun.
No, it's definitely him. His face says it all.
Jane glanced at Roan, her suspicion confirmed.
And then, the drumming reached its thundering climax.
Crash!
Lightning struck through the swirling stone dust.
Boulders soared into the air as if the earth itself were being upended, colliding and sending sparks flying.
The sky above Horoljulol remained eerily calm, like the eye of a hurricane.
All sound converged toward that center.
In an instant, the swirling stone and sand coalesced, taking on a distinct shape.
A massive upper body made of solid stone, and a lower body composed of a lightning-streaked tempest.
The spirit that had once sustained Horoljulol.
Or perhaps, a malevolent fiend drunk on human flesh, feeding on the blood of warriors.
It had finally descended.
"Seriously... traveling with you means seeing things I wouldn't witness in a dozen lifetimes," Jane muttered.
"Indeed. If we had just wandered the continent normally, we never would have seen this... I had no idea the world was full of such terrifying things..." Belgard agreed.
As if deaf to their voices, the spirit reached a hand toward the sacrifice with practiced ease.
Screeech... Grate...
The amalgamation of nature ground its stony limbs together.
Against it—
Clang!
Roan swung his sword.
With a resounding impact, the stone arm was deflected as if it had struck an immovable force.
An unexpected strength.
Only then did the tribesmen realize an outsider had intervened, and panic rippled through the crowd.
"W-What?!"
"This crazy outsider...!"
Hostility and terror.
The faces of the crowd twisted in an instant, fueled by a volatile mix of both.
"We were going to let you go because you're outsiders, but you dare strike first? This ritual belongs to us! Why are you interfering!"
They drew their weapons, glaring at Roan.
And in the center of it all, the officiant pointed a finger at Roan.
"Everyone! It is lamentable that our ritual has been disrupted, but we must turn this into an opportunity! To appease the Spirit's wrath, we shall offer even more sacrifices today!"
"Y-Yes! Of course! Seize them! Tear them apart!"
Fear was contagious, and madness spread like wildfire.
Starting with those who had hesitated, the crowd quickly united in a frenzied chant: "Sacrifice them!"
"No!"
Roan shouted over the din.
"You are all being deceived! That thing is not a guardian spirit protecting Horoljulol! It is a monster tricking you!"
His voice rang out like thunder, but it failed to reach the tribesmen consumed by madness.
Yet, there was one person who caught Roan's words amidst the chaos.
"Ugh... W-what..."
It was Charbun, bound to the shackles.
His fading, blurry vision took in the chaotic scene.
A regeneration faster than anyone else's.
Even if his wrists and ankles were severed, they would heal.
Even if his flesh was torn and crushed, it would regenerate.
Because he was born with such a constitution, he had been used as a living canvas for everyone's tattoos, and ultimately, as a disposable sacrifice.
His entire life had been spent wondering how he could die with the least amount of pain.
He had assumed this time would be no different—that he would be crushed and ground to dust between the stones.
"W-what is really happening..."
Yet, what unfolded before his eyes was something he had only ever dreamed of—no, something he hadn't even dared to dream. It was a scene of resistance and defiance.
"Calm down! Take a deep breath and look closely at that spirit!"
Dressed in ordinary clothes and wielding a single sword.
With just that, the man was parrying the weapons of the rushing warriors.
Elite warriors who had braved stone tempests were being pushed back by a single blade!
"This is impossible..."
But the impossible did not stop there.
"Everyone! Look over there! That is not the color of a pure spirit's core! Look at the light shining through the cracks in the stone! It's already corrupted and turbid!"
"Exactly! It might have been a guardian spirit once, but not anymore! It's just an evil fiend that wants to gorge itself on human flesh!"
A silver-haired priest and a red-haired mage.
They were backing the swordsman, trying to persuade the crowd.
They, too, were far from ordinary.
Mana laced with fire made the crowd hesitate to draw near, while a voice filled with holy power resonated through the masses.
Though their words fell on deaf ears when it came to the tribesmen, they struck Charbun like a thunderbolt.
Corrupted... Not a guardian spirit, but an evil fiend with a taste for human flesh...
It felt as if he had been struck over the head.
Every time he was offered as a sacrifice, the sky would quiet down.
But before long, the stone storms and dry lightning would always return.
If this spirit wasn't actually protecting Horoljulol...
If it had been destroying the lands around Horoljulol simply because it wanted another taste of flesh...
Then... I didn't have to live like this...
But even if he realized that, what could he do?
He had been oppressed by his tribe for so long that his confidence had withered away to nothing.
Creeeech! Crackle!
As Charbun watched blankly, the spirit's fury erupted above him.
With a grinding screech, massive stone spears materialized, aiming directly at Horoljulol.
Not just one, but several spears pointed toward the settlement, threatening utter destruction.
"N-No...!"
"That... that crazy outsider...!"
The tribesmen shrieked in horror at the spirit's wrath.
Yet, they couldn't lay a finger on the outsider.
He was simply too strong.
Wherever he had trained, he was so powerful that their combined efforts couldn't even leave a scratch on him.
The floating stone spears locked onto their target.
They were aimed directly at Roan.
But the moment those spears struck, Horoljulol would be wiped off the map.
Sensing this, the people trembled in terror.
However, the disaster they feared did not come to pass.
Boom!
Clatter...
The stone spears were struck head-on by a burst of magic, shattering into harmless debris.
Naturally, everyone's eyes turned toward the source of the spell.
It came from the red-haired mage.
"What? You can't even handle this much?" Jane grumbled, as if it were nothing.
Her tone was dismissive, yet she had casually suppressed a natural disaster.
She pointed to her side.
Toward Belgard.
The crowd's gaze followed her finger.
The silver-haired priest was chanting a prayer.
A solemn, almost sacred aura of holy power gathered around him.
At the end of his prayer, Belgard raised his hand toward the sky.
Hummmm—
With a resonant hum, a golden barrier unfurled across the ceiling of Horoljulol.
Thud, crash, crack.
The barrier easily absorbed the downpour of falling rocks.
The seamless cooperation of the two companions had completely neutralized the wrath of nature.
"...They blocked the Spirit's wrath..."
"Who on earth are they..."
The tide had turned.
Seeing the outsiders easily block a force they themselves could never hope to withstand, the tribesmen's attitudes began to shift.
Charbun was no exception.
He looked at these people, who performed their roles so flawlessly, with newfound awe.
...But nothing changes. In the end, I'm still bound like this, unable to do a single thing.
Even if he escaped this predicament, he could never be like them.
Because that was just who he was—
"It's fine!!"
A booming voice shattered Charbun's self-deprecating thoughts.
"You're fine just the way you are! You don't need to have confidence!"
Taking advantage of the crowd's hesitation, Roan charged at the spirit.
He challenged the great force of nature without a single shred of doubt.
His hands gripped the spirit's stony body.
Screeech!
Boom! Crash!
Gravel pelted him.
A tempest of lightning surged.
Since Roan was using both hands to hold the spirit, he had no choice but to take the attacks head-on.
"You don't have to be a sacrifice anymore! Sure, things might get harder than they are now!"
Even so, his grip did not falter.
The jagged stone tore at his skin, but he paid it no mind.
"But at least you won't be trapped in the dark anymore! Because I'll be there, and so will our comrades!"
His words struck Charbun's heart like heavy stones cast into a still pond, sending massive ripples through his soul.
"I'll clear away the stones that blocked your path! Let's get out of Horoljulol! Let's go see the wider world!"
What was this man even saying?
With that proposal directed entirely at him, Roan thrust his hand deep into the crevices of the spirit's stone body.
Crunch, crackle.
An agonizing pain crushed his hand.
A backflow of electrical currents surged up his arm, rattling his collarbone.
Roan nearly lost his grip for a second, but he grit his teeth, endured the pain, and shoved his hand even deeper.
And finally, he pulled out his target.
The spirit's core.
Corrupted and turbid, it lay clutched in Roan's hand.
The spirit thrashed in a mixture of shock and fury, but its flailing attacks could not reach Roan or Horoljulol.
Jane and Belgard were casually shooting down every single strike.
Having secured their safety, Roan immediately crushed the core.
Shatter!
With a crisp ring, the malevolent energy harbored within dissipated into the air.
The grinding screeches ground to a halt.
The floating spirit froze completely, and its stone components began to rain down one by one.
At that moment, a strange phenomenon occurred.
The fierce gravel storm that had plagued the outskirts of Horoljulol suddenly began to die down.
"...What?"
"Could the outsider have been right..."
The miraculous, instantaneous change in the weather left everyone stunned.
Confusion swept through the crowd.
A few remained on their knees, crying out the spirit's name, but others dropped their weapons and stared at one another in disbelief.
Amidst the chaos, Roan walked straight toward Charbun without hesitation.
Crack, snap.
He shattered the heavy shackles holding the giant with raw strength, then extended a blood-stained hand toward him.
"Charbun. Join us. We need you to complete our party."
Rumble...
The storm and the debris that had blotted out the sun vanished.
The sunlight silhouetting the man who held out his hand was exceptionally brilliant.
And on his finger, a peculiarly shaped ring seemed to vibrate, just once.