Chapter 18
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Emotions Take Priority Over Reason
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Charles seemed curious about my true identity even in his final moments.
Humans are like that.
They stay curious right up until death, and if they don't get answers, they can't rest in peace even in the grave.
I dusted off my hands and glared at Charles's eyes, rolled back white.
"A holy knight, but not that holy knight."
The dead man couldn't hear me, of course.
Well, he probably got the gist.
I picked up Charles's weapon and was dragging him by the ankle toward the altar when—
"Kiiiiii—."
A grotesque screech made my hair stand on end.
Crunch—, grind—.
The noises from his mouth and the grinding of his bones weren't normal at all.
A dead man making sounds and moving was abnormal to begin with.
I urgently dodged, leaving Charles—who'd suddenly grown heavy as if glued to the floor—behind.
Whoosh—.
A chill swept over my nape with the sound of slicing air.
Not real cold air, but a phantom sensation.
I spun reflexively and swung Charles's sword.
Thump—.
His thick arms were severed and tumbled across the floor.
Thanks to Luke's temperament, I didn't falter, but I was shocked inside.
Not because my skill in blocking his attack with one swing was impressive.
"Damn it. This heretic son of a bitch isn't dead?"
I glanced over—Andre lay cold and stiff, while Bong clutched his burst ecstasy pill in a faint.
"What are you? Think you're something special?"
"Kihihihihi—."
His neck twisted unnaturally, face contorted, eyes streaming blood tears—the whites gone, swallowed entirely by black.
"Kihihihihi—."
"He's lost it."
Huuu—.
I gripped Charles's greatsword with both hands and drew in a deep breath.
I definitely killed him.
The severed arms were regenerating at a frightening speed.
A yin aura darker than the sanctuary's shadows rippled from his body.
That energy was piecing his arms back together.
"Creepy as hell. Just die already."
I grimaced at the wriggling flesh on the cut surface and hoisted the sword high.
That was when it happened.
Sizzle—.
The stench of burning protein filled the air as the stump charred black.
The regenerated flesh crumbled to dust and scattered.
"Kii—?"
The Charles zombie cocked its head, as if sensing something off.
I figured it out right away.
Ah, divine power.
I activated Blue Eye to trace the anomaly.
A milky mist, rippling like the Milky Way, guided my vision.
Rock.
I had no idea what fueled that grotesque black energy regenerating Charles, but the rock was emitting divine power to counter it.
The divine power didn't stop there—it utterly dismantled the foul energy within Charles.
Without that rock...
How many of his attacks could I have blocked?
I couldn't say for sure. Scanning him with Blue Eye, his body had been a cauldron of murderous intent.
Loathing, contempt, hatred, greed.
My skin prickled from the emotions fused into that killing aura.
I lowered my sword and watched Charles.
He showed no more intent to attack.
"Guhk—! Kehek—. Kikek—!"
Crack-crack-crack—.
He just stared blankly at his body crumpling like a crushed tin can.
The dark energy resisted the divine power before petering out on its own.
Pssshhh—.
Charles corroded like protein doused in acid, dissolving into a scatter of silver dust.
I checked thoroughly—no trace of any ability lingered where his corpse had vanished.
I wondered if it was some kind of power, but turning zombie wasn't an ability effect, then.
Still so much I didn't know.
Without a knowledge assistant, stepping into this world felt downright dangerous.
And more will come sniffing after Silver Star.
No time to sort the swarm of thoughts.
An unpleasant smell clung to my nose, so I snorted hard.
"I won't pray for a villain like you. Fall to hell and atone."
I spat Luke's-style lines, then gathered the loot.
Charles's clothes should fit me. Kinda gross, but better than strolling out naked.
I hauled every last belonging to the altar.
Planned to rinse the pants and shirt in water before wearing.
Rifled through Andre and Bong's gear too, stuffing anything useful into one backpack.
Bandages, salve, jerky—this women's underwear? Pervert.
In Bong's pack, I found an oil flask shaped like a canteen. Piled Andre's corpse and junk, doused it in oil, and tossed a torch.
Roar—.
"Ughhh—!"
The man tied to the altar gazed at me with teary eyes.
Ankles bound too, he writhed like a maggot trying to inch away.
"Scared of fire?"
"Ubbub—!"
His eyes screamed he was scared of me.
No mana at all? Zero presence.
I pressed Andre's broken sword to his face.
"If you're thinking resistance, say it now. Quick death."
"Uuup—."
He shook his head again, but I wouldn't trust it.
Poised to stab at any second, I sliced off his gag.
"Phaaa—!"
Cough! Cough!
I gave him a moment to catch his breath, then geared up to interrogate.
"Answer straight, and you die painless."
Couldn't afford to dawdle—not with possible guys above.
Tied or not, he'd joined their plot to harm me. No mercy planned.
He struggled to rise; I pinned his shoulder with the greatsword.
"Stay down and answer. Lie, and you die slow."
"P-Please, anything but dissolution. I'll tell you everything..."
Hmm...
Dissolution. Classy term.
I'll borrow that later.
"Final warning. No lies. You came knowing my power—you know I'm no pushover."
"Y-Yes. Of course."
Twentyish? Up close, his face looked awfully young.
"What do you sense from me?"
"P-Power. Overwhelming power."
"You smelled it and led those guys here."
"Y-Yes."
"Know what kind?"
"Not that much."
Doesn't know the specifics, huh?
No need to show my cards, then.
"But if I had to guess—it's the Mad Star's power."
"Elaborate."
"Queen! Saw the Ruler of Frost hiding in the ridge shadows by day. At night, she came here screaming to give her what's hers. The entrance, veiled by divine incantations—we found it easy thanks to the Queen. Adventurers know the tale. The Queen begged the Mad Star over and over to forge her power. So what you have... must be the Queen's."
Rambling, but straightforward—easy to follow.
They'd found the hidden passage, and figured out what I had, all thanks to the Ruler of Frost's meltdown.
No wonder that Queen seemed a bit dim.
But one thing needed correcting.
"Not the Queen's. Mine."
"Pardon?"
"No questions."
"Yes."
"On the Ea'r continent, many like you who can smell powers?"
"Not many, but not none."
Trembling yet clear and honest—my resolve softened.
He looked too damn young for it, too.
He'd led the bad guys, sure, but hadn't harmed me himself.
Sigh. Too soft-hearted for my own good.
"How many above?"
"Fiore Kingdom's fourth prince Reyes and five escorts."
"A prince? Climbed this godforsaken mountain?"
"How should I know the hobbies of the rich and noble..."
He bowed his head.
Self-loathing of the poor and lowly.
"Andre and Bong are the prince's escorts. Charles is a knight—Reyes's uncle."
Explained their skills.
Prince's guards and a kingdom knight.
He eyed me warily, grinding his teeth.
Hates their guts?
Dragged around tied up, treated worse than a hunting dog—fair enough.
"I'll free you. No funny business."
His eyes went wide in shock, but he remembered no questions and held his tongue.
"Th-Thank you."
I sliced the ropes on his wrists and ankles.
Left the upper-arm bindings. Minimal insurance.
He rubbed his wrists and bowed low.
"Any thought of turning on me? Ditch it now."
"I'm not that vile—to betray my lifesaver."
Good kid.
"Your ties to them."
"They killed my wife. For not cooperating..."
Those murdering bastards.
"Why not cooperate?"
"Slaughtered my son, daughter-in-law, grandkids like game. How could I? Then they took my wife..."
Hold up.
What?
Young geezer?
"...You alright?"
No. Not even close, sir.
Gonna hurl.
This old man's name was Requiya Lance.
He'd lived just over a century on the Ea'r continent.
Had to be different from Earth's century, I figured... but.
Ea'r days run longer than Earth's, and a year has over 400.
If true, he was genuinely ancient.
And not just Ea'r-born, either.
"Before that, I lived in another world—followed my lord here. After he vanished, my comrades died, and we scattered."
"Who was your—"
"Done it all to survive."
Requiya glanced at me and changed tack. I tried pressing, but he was too slick; timing slipped.
Guy's got secrets he won't spill.
"Last gig was menial at Fiore capital's magic lab—that's what cost me my young grandkids..."
Begging, blacksmith's helper, mage assistant, street peddler, academy tutor, back-alley alchemist...
I counted on fingers till I ran out—stopped tallying.
"Wife was an orphan, worked nursery with orphanage kids. She'd buy cheap discards from my stall to share..."
I stared up at the hole overhead, listening to Requiya.
Nothing crucial. Just kill him?
Anyhow, Reyes had absolute faith in Charles's strength and hated risks—wouldn't descend till we signaled.
Tempted to cut the rope, but...
He said they wouldn't act anyway, fearing Charles's wrath.
No power-scent off Requiya, but he radiated a long-life's insight.
His background dripped suspicion.
Reason clashed with Insight Ability. What to choose?
My reason screamed: Don't trust. Dangerous.
Yet Insight Ability deemed every word true.
So I decided.
"Holy Knight! Please, please—let me have revenge on Fiore Kingdom. Don't dissolve me!"
Requiya knelt on the altar, clasping and rubbing his hands desperately.
Shing—.
I am a man where emotion trumps reason.