Journey to the North - 4: York's Darkness Seals Sight, But Not Scent
York's darkness completely blocked vision.
But it didn't block smells.
That's why, for Coco with her exceptional sense of smell, his power was practically useless.
That said, Coco wasn't strong enough to take down an elite knight on her own.
She was still just an apprentice who'd only been under Kizen's tutelage for a short time.
There was inevitably a gap between her and a knight who'd wielded a sword for decades in the cult.
'That's why I'm here.'
If I'd planned to leave everything to Coco, I wouldn't have shown up on the front lines.
I'd joined as support because I knew she couldn't win alone.
Not that I could be much help, blind and disoriented in the pitch black.
Surprisingly, there was something only I could do.
'I've taken down York dozens of times in the game.'
Early on, I'd prepared useful counters for the key figures in the Nidhog cult.
Of course, I knew York's weakness and had planned accordingly.
Even in the impenetrable darkness, I calmly slipped my hand into my pocket.
York started mocking me.
"Kuhaha! I can see you frozen there, unable to see a thing!"
"I'll protect Oppa!"
Ching-!
A reverse gust hit at the same moment a clash of swords rang out from behind me.
Coco must have blocked York's swing from my back.
She'd parried it perfectly—a voice laced with bewilderment followed.
"H-how did you know my position?"
"It's a secret! Oppa said I can't tell you!"
Foolish to reveal your hand and give the enemy a chance to counter.
I figured Coco might blurt out her ability without thinking, so I'd gagged her in advance.
York must have felt cheated—his power exposed while his foe kept theirs hidden.
But who asked him to spill it? His fault for bragging and showing his cards.
"Sound, then?"
York's voice melted into the darkness, going silent.
He'd reached the point of moving without footsteps, but he'd guessed wrong.
"Kuh! Even without presence or sound, you still track me…!"
Kaang! Chaeng-!
Metal clashed in rapid succession.
Coco's voice brimmed with confidence—she could block as much as he threw.
Thanks to her drawing attention, I freely pulled out the scroll touching my fingertips.
"Man, can't see a thing, so untying this is tricky."
I had to rely on touch to undo the knot on the scroll.
You might think, just don't tie it in the first place—but I couldn't.
The image inside was so horrific that even glancing at it could cause serious mental trauma.
For reference, the painter who'd drawn it had tried to gouge out his own eyes midway.
'Even after finishing, his condition was so dire that the Magic Tower paid him extra to erase his memories….'
The darkness covering my eyes suddenly felt like a blessing.
York, the power's master, was unaffected—so only he would get to "appreciate" the image I was about to reveal.
I was already curious about his reaction.
[Master, what are you preparing?]
'York's vulnerable to mental attacks, unlike other knights.'
[Planning to corrupt his mind with a magic scroll?]
'The pendant around his neck has a mental protection blessing, so magic won't work.'
The standard way to beat York was to target and disable the pendant, then inflict status ailments.
But in darkness, accuracy tanked—you had to rely on luck.
And right now, we lacked the power to remove it anyway.
[Then how do you plan to strike his mind?]
'Not with magic—with a primal method to shatter his mentality.'
I untied the knot and unfurled the scroll wide.
As expected, I couldn't see it.
Reassured, I turned the drawn image toward York.
A sweet scream erupted.
"Wh-what is that…? Kyaaaaah!!"
[Kyaaaaah!]
Too bad—Tyrbing could see it too.
I'd commissioned the painter for an image of the evil dragon.
The Empire had a famous abstract painting of the god battling Nidhog, and the cult's statues referenced it.
I'd had the painter base it on that masterpiece—but with modifications.
A plain evil dragon pic wouldn't erode York's mental fortitude.
So I'd stuffed the painter with suspicious amounts of gold and twisted Nidhog's image.
Her lounging seductively on a bed, packed with every perverse fetish I remembered.
I hadn't seen the result, but it drove the painter to scream and flee midway.
I was certain it'd be lethal to anyone with high loyalty to Nidhog.
[What have you created!? Kyaaaaah!]
"Haha, sorry."
"Th-that's not the Nidhog I know! It's not!!"
I couldn't see the exact situation through the darkness, but it was clearly working.
Even the demonic sword Tyrbing called it an abomination unfit for this world.
That said it all.
How could a fantasy world handle modern depravity?
I didn't know York's state, but if he tried averting his eyes from the horror…
"Kuhk!"
Sguk-! He'd meet his end to Coco's blade.
A short, clean slicing sound, and the darkness began to lift.
Having confirmed the mental attack's effect via the Nidhog image, I rolled it up tight to hide the contents.
Tuck it away safely— it'd come in handy again later.
"It's not over yet…!"
As vision cleared, the first thing I saw was York's head on the ground.
But he was still alive, forcibly reattaching his neck and body with darkness.
York was entering phase 2, wrapping his body in condensed shadows.
Once swallowed by darkness, he morphed into a monster—immune to magic, physical damage halved.
A pain in the ass all around, but I had a cheat for it.
"Coco, close your eyes."
"Yeah!"
"Eye-fuck grenade!!"
I ripped the flash scroll from my pocket and squeezed my eyes shut.
Even clenched tight enough to furrow my brow, light seeped through, stabbing my eyes.
But the payoff was worth the pain.
Ching! Kigigik-!
Iron clashed right in front of me.
Cracking my eyes open, Coco was blocking the headless knight's final desperate swing with all her might.
The flash had dispelled the darkness, so he'd tried dragging me down as his last resort.
"Too bad. That was your golden chance to kill me."
Inside his darkness domain, flash scrolls got absorbed.
But the moment he spread it thin over his body? It became vulnerable to light.
One flash spell to neuter the boss—insane cost-performance.
No EXP was the downside, but I had no reason to complain.
This wasn't a game, and even if I got EXP, it wouldn't help me.
"That's three cult knights down."
No thrill of hot-blooded battle in my dictionary.
Frail as I was, I had to use exploits and cheats without discrimination.
If I'd had nukes, Lunaria would've been glassed ages ago.
"Still, that tenacity to target me even headless…."
If Coco weren't so strong, I'd be minced meat under that greatsword.
Chills from the close call, I laughed hollowly—then sensed movement behind me.
Turning, Lara charged with a kitchen knife.
"You've been hiding nearby…!"
"Die!!"
Coco was tied up blocking York's greatsword—couldn't help.
No means or time to defend.
Biting down hard, I resolved to dodge vitals.
Just before the knife hit my gut.
"Ah…?"
A hand gripped my waist, lifting me into the air.
Lara, who'd been glaring as she lunged, now had a caved-in skull.
Glancing aside, a woman with light purple braided hair retreated with me tucked under her arm.
Iron club in her hand, Lara's blood on the end.
Her signature stoic expression felt nostalgic—we'd never met, but I knew her well.
"You okay?"
"Huh? Y-yeah."
"That was close. A second later and you'd be stabbed."
"Th-thanks."
"Save the thanks. Can you tell me what happened in the village?"
An out-of-towner drawn by the smoke from the burning village.
Even in the chaos, her deadpan tone unchanged—this was the protagonist of this world.
Seems the protagonist in my world was set female.
'The setup's weirdly identical to the scene where the protagonist saves Lara… Am I the heroine or something?'