Gawain (2)
Gawain (2)
Gawain began to go berserk. Holy power burst out of his body without pause.
The entire cave was engulfed in a halo of white light. To a demon, it was no different from a sealed room filled with deadly poison.
Johan writhed in pain.
Even Kazan’s Corrupted Ring couldn’t protect him completely.
Strands of holy light touched Johan’s body.
A terrible searing pain struck his skin.
‘I won’t last long.’
At this rate, he might melt and die.
He had to escape the cave as soon as possible, but there was something that needed to be done first.
He had to implant a Mangryang in Gawain.
A power that invaded the target’s subconscious to cause mental disruption. Just as he had used it on Baron Grian in the early days of possession, he intended to do the same with Gawain.
Suppressing the pain, Johan began to concentrate his Miasma.
Black smoke slowly rose from his palm, shaping itself into a small fairy.
It was a Mangryang, a creature that ruled over the unconscious minds of intelligent beings.
To use a Mangryang, one needed a perfect understanding of the target.
This was an easy condition for Johan.
Having thoroughly read the novel, he knew not only Gawain as a person but also all the secrets and political circumstances surrounding him.
Johan commanded the Mangryang.
‘Stay hidden until Gawain’s rampage ends, then make your move.’
It was impossible to attach the Mangryang to the current Gawain.
That immense holy power would destroy it instantly.
Only after Gawain’s frenzy ended could the Mangryang fulfill its role.
The small black fairy darted to the cave ceiling, evading the holy power.
As soon as the Mangryang concealed itself, Johan spread his wings.
‘Time for me to move, too.’
The concentration of holy power was rising. He could barely open his eyes now. Without Kazan’s ring, Johan would have already been reduced to ash.
He launched his body immediately, desperately flapping his wings to escape the cave.
***
Gawain’s consciousness was fading. Within the haze, a nauseating sense of déjà vu kept rising.
‘…That feeling from before.’
An overwhelming sense of omnipotence surged. At the same time, he was engulfed in crushing helplessness.
Two incompatible sensations struck him simultaneously.
Just like back then. Like the day he pierced his mother with the holy spear.
He had the power to do anything, yet he would protect no one.
Gawain was powerful—and utterly powerless.
‘I… I have to stop. I can’t… anymore.’
He was afraid. His dying mother’s face kept coming back to him.
— My son, it’s not your fault. I don’t resent you.
His mother hadn’t blamed him, but the son despised himself.
— Don’t cry. Steady your heart. This is all a trial, so overcome it and use your strength for humanity. Don’t forget. You are a child chosen by the Great Saint.
Gawain had no confidence he could uphold his mother’s last words.
He could not control his own power.
Whenever he tried to protect someone—or felt hostility toward others—he would inevitably lose control.
Every time, irreversible tragedies followed.
So Gawain had no choice but to become an avoidant.
He always ran away. Playing the role of a carefree hedonist, he turned his eyes from every conflict. His whole life had been lived to avoid going berserk.
Today, that effort collapsed.
“…You pathetic fool.”
He had fallen for a demon’s trick.
“Damn it…”
With only despair remaining, his consciousness blacked out.
***
“He can’t have gotten far!”
“Search every inch!”
Though it was deep in the night, the surroundings were as bright as dawn.
Holy light was bursting out from all directions.
A host of priests who had gathered from various places had completely surrounded the area.
They were investigating the strange phenomenon that had occurred in the southwest—and were also there to eliminate White Horn.
In the latter case, it was all but confirmed.
White Horn was a rat trapped in a jar.
A sacred sealing array covered dozens of kilometers around, and countless priests scoured the barrier’s interior with glowing eyes.
The only variable was the overwhelming power of White Horn wiping out everyone gathered here—but even that had an extremely low probability.
The Twelve Holy Radiants were coming.
Beings who had surpassed human limits. Each one of them was the pinnacle of anti-demon power.
The Order recognized the gravity of the situation and had deployed the Twelve Radiants.
Once they arrived, White Horn would meet his end.
Victory was assured.
Then the anomaly occurred—without warning.
“…What is that?”
From a hill slope within the barrier, a white flame soared skyward.
It was pure Sacred Flame of the highest purity.
“It’s the Radiants! The Radiants have arrived!”
It was the only explanation for such a dense holy presence.
Someone said with a confused expression,
“Th-That can’t be. There’s no way they’ve already arrived from the main cathedral.”
“They must’ve been on a different mission nearby!”
“Why would a Radiant be in this rural corner of the south…”
Before he could finish, a massive explosion shook the heavens and the earth.
Everyone covered their ears.
A jarring ringing echoed in their eardrums.
But the noise wasn’t the problem.
The exploding Sacred Flame was engulfing everything around it.
“W-We have to get out!”
“Take cover!”
Flames crashed down like a wave. Many priests who couldn’t avoid it were consumed by Sacred Flame.
Screams rang out from every direction.
Not from burns.
Sacred Flame did not incinerate humans.
It was the blast impact that overwhelmed them.
Crack! Thud!
Shattered rocks and broken trees scattered in all directions.
In the now-white surroundings, priests with low spiritual strength or young age were helplessly swept up by the blast.
Fatal injuries began to pile up.
As soon as the incident began, Royal Guard Knight Yuri took control of the situation.
She had a manual prepared for such an event.
“Do not move more than ten steps from where you are! Use nearby objects to shield yourself! Anything is fine! Conceal your presence! Whatever you do, do not let His Highness the Third Prince see you!”
Several people swallowed dryly at her words.
— His Highness has gone berserk again…
— Is this the nightmare of that day repeating?
— What was the Guard doing!?
— Someone must take responsibility this time!
Another tragedy was beginning—just like four years ago.
That day, when assassins infiltrated the third prince’s palace, and every innocent court member, knight, and even the queen known as the Wise One were all slaughtered—the culprit was none other than the Third Prince.
The parricide Gawain. His rampage was repeating here and now.
Fortunately, there was a difference from that day.
They now had a method to suppress the berserk Third Prince.
Knight Yuri dashed toward the center of the explosion.
The Royal Guard followed behind her.
‘We cannot let a tragedy like that day happen again.’
Dozens of elite troops leapt into the heart of the Sacred Flame.
***
‘One hour left.’
That was the time remaining until sunrise.
He needed a place to rest, just for a moment.
From the sky, Johan searched for a new hiding spot.
But nothing appeared.
‘There’s no place better than that cave.’
To have run into Gawain there of all places. At first, he’d thought it was sheer misfortune—but in hindsight, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
He had managed to attach a Mangryang to Gawain. He had gained an opportunity to control Gawain’s subconscious.
If used well, Gawain would be a powerful card.
One to use against the Count of Staviana.
And the situation itself was turning out favorably.
Every gaze within the barrier was fixed on Gawain.
Because of the rampaging Third Prince, elite troops were pinned down, and the rest of the clergy were scrambling to hide.
Almost no one was paying attention to Johan.
His gambit had landed perfectly.
‘Good thing this is just an improvised vanguard unit.’
If a properly organized force had been deployed, this kind of distraction wouldn’t have worked—but by then, the sun would already have risen.
Johan would return to human form, and the sacred barrier wouldn’t stop him.
He would slip out of the encirclement without issue.
Certain of his survival, Johan landed on a thick tree branch.
‘Just need to hang in there for one more hour.’
At the same time he made that resolution, a deafening explosion rang out.
From the distance ahead, a streak of light soared upward.
Johan narrowed his brow, observing the phenomenon. His face instantly twisted.
“Gawain!”
He was ascending at high speed, throwing off countless chains and shackles, soaring into the night sky.
‘He shouldn’t even have the ability to fly yet.’
Johan let out a breathless chuckle.
Was that a pure leap? It was absurdly inhuman physical power.
As he was marveling, Gawain suddenly whipped his head around midair.
In no time, his eyes locked directly with Johan’s.
It was chilling. A cold shiver raced down Johan’s spine.
The murderous intent and hostility in Gawain’s gaze pierced him like an awl.
“…This is insane.”
Gawain began descending. The moment his feet touched the ground, the earth trembled. Heavy footsteps rang out.
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
The sound drew closer. Trees ahead toppled one by one. A flash of light raced through the dark forest.
‘Damn it!’
He was closing in.
Johan immediately spread his wings.
‘Just a little longer. Dawn is near.’
He took to the sky.
A moment later, a white flash shot up from the ground.
Espada, the holy spear. The sacred artifact, wrapped in Sacred Flame, tore through the air as it flew.
He had to dodge it.
If it hit him, the wound would never heal.
No—it might kill him instantly.
Johan stopped flapping his wings, hovering midair like a gliding bird.
The spear narrowly missed his nose, soaring higher into the sky.
A sharp sonic boom followed.
He had barely avoided it.
Before he could even feel relief, a massive presence surged into the night sky.
Johan turned to respond.
He was already too late.
All his vision caught was a white afterimage.
From high above, a scream-like shout echoed.
“White Horn────!!!”
Johan tilted his head back. Sacred Flame was rushing in. His vision turned white.
‘This is bad—’
Crack!
A holy-empowered punch struck Johan square in the face.
White shockwaves rippled through the night sky.
Johan’s body plummeted in a straight line and crashed to the ground.
“Kh… ugh…”
Black blood burst from his eyes and mouth.
His back throbbed as if shattered.
He was on the verge of losing consciousness.
‘I can’t. I have to stay awake.’
After all he’d endured, he couldn’t be taken out like this.
Johan forced his upper body up.
“Where is he…”
Before he could finish, a flash darted from the trees on his left.
Johan instinctively flung his body backward.
Shhhhk!
The holy spear grazed him and embedded itself in a rock to the right.
Fragments of stone exploded in all directions.
But Johan wasn’t stunned for long.
He pushed his body into motion with all his strength and began to run.
A cliff loomed ahead. If he could reach beyond it, he could buy time.
Gawain had no ability to fly. He’d have to circle around.
Even with his physical prowess, he couldn’t leap across the gorge.
Johan pushed off the ground. Spread his giant wings.
He soared off the cliff.
At that moment, a sonic boom came from behind. His spine froze.
He glanced back.
The holy spear surged toward him.
Johan’s face contorted.
‘I can’t dodge it. In that case—’
He twisted his body midair.
Crack!
Black blood scattered.
The massive spear embedded itself in his shoulder. Sacred Flame burned the flesh of the demon.
Miasma and holy power tangled chaotically.
Johan’s red eyes flickered wildly. With each blink, the color faded.
‘Sunrise…’
Even as consciousness drifted, his eyes turned toward the night sky.
The black heavens were slowly turning blue.
‘I made it through.’
His black wings folded weakly. His mind faded. Sleep approached. He didn’t resist and closed his eyes.
Johan’s body slowly fell—down into the gorge.
***
“Excuse me, are you awake?”
Two silhouettes came into view through his blurry vision.
An old man and a girl. Their clothes were ragged, and their faces looked grimy.
‘…Where am I?’
Johan pushed himself up with a hand on the floor.
“Here, water. Have a sip.”
He took the cup the old man offered and looked around.
A small fire burned in the center of the room. A wooden door was visible ahead, and a worn bedding mat lay in one corner.
It seemed to be a commoner’s home.
“Who are you? Why am I here?”
Johan couldn’t make sense of the situation.
The old man spoke.
“My grandson found you collapsed by the river and brought you here. Shameful as it is, we’re just wandering slash-and-burn farmers.”
Johan’s mind finally cleared.
‘Gawain!’
He’d been pursued by that maniac, fallen into the canyon, and had been rescued by these people.
‘I survived.’
With a breath of relief, Johan said,
“You took care of a complete stranger. I owe you greatly. I will repay this debt, without fail.”
He intended to reward them generously. As the heir to a vast territory, he could provide what slash-and-burn farmers lacked most.
The old man waved his hands.
“No, no, we ask no such thing. You’ve only been lying here for half a day, and we did it without expecting anything in return.”
The moment the old man finished speaking, Johan’s face stiffened.
‘Wait. Half a day?’
He leapt to his feet.
Startled, the old man asked,
“W-What’s wrong?”
Being unconscious for nearly half a day—meant that the sun was about to set again.
‘This is bad!’
Johan rushed out and flung the door open.
His expression turned to horror.
The sun was going down.
Sunset had begun.
A few villagers looked curiously toward Johan, who had suddenly appeared.
From inside, the old man called,
“It’s getting late. You should rest here for the—”
Johan didn’t hear him.
The impending tragedy was consuming all his focus.
He was about to transform into a demon again.
And everyone present would witness it.
What was he supposed to do with them?
Johan couldn’t find an answer.
He stood there, frozen.
The sun fully set.
Pitch-black darkness fell upon the village.