< 71. King, O King. (1) >
*
The afterimage of the flint faded, and my vision was blocked. But thanks to that, Diemonica’s sharp senses were coming back to life. The senses that had been in chaos were realigning, and the lost hearing, touch, and instincts were returning.
– Swoosh…
Fernandez felt a tingling pain in his slowly recovering nervous system and heard the sound of pouring rain. There was a fairly large hole connecting to the ground. The wind blowing into this cavity seemed to be the cause.
“Whoo…”
A faint smell of wet blood could be sensed through the damp rain. Small whispers and presences could be heard amidst the sound of the rain. Whether it was magic or skill, they were hiding, suppressing their presence to the extreme.
– Swoosh…
Fernandez pulled his greatsword and adjusted his stance, steadying his breath. His sense of balance was still a mess, but it seemed enough to warm up.
– Rumble…
A vibration coming from far above was shaking the cavity. Fernandez recalled the movements of the giant he had seen before making the spatial leap. Time was running out.
‘The Bronze Throne?’
– Maybe half a day?
‘I need to repair it as soon as possible. It’s useless if I can’t use it when needed.’
As his hearing sharpened, the whispers mixed with the sound of rain became clearer. He jumped into the center of the cavity where the rain was pouring. Cold raindrops hit his body, and vitality began to surge through him.
– Splash!
Something followed him into the rain. Fernandez was almost falling in love with Diemonica’s physical abilities. Even these small sounds were audible!
– One’s coming, right. Aim for the neck!
– Clang!
Before Faijashi’s words even finished, Fernandez swung his greatsword to the right. He felt the sensation of a dagger hitting the blade and bouncing off.
“Kuh!! C-Can you see!?”
A hoarse, phlegmy voice was heard. Blocking that ambush was like a miracle born of his instincts and Diemonica’s hearing. Fernandez swung his greatsword toward the source of the voice.
– Splash!
The sound of raindrops bouncing off the blade of the greatsword was heard. In the darkness, Fernandez moved like an angry lion. Raindrops scattered in all directions, and the sound of them bouncing off echoed one by one.
With his vision blocked, his hearing, touch, and survival instincts became extremely sharp, pounding in his heart. He swung his sword reflexively.
– Slash!
He felt something caught on the tip of the sword, tearing apart. It was a rather heavy sensation. Fernandez laughed fiercely and swung his sword. Harder. Harder!
– Splash!
“Number 4 is down! Damn it. Is he a monster?”
“Why did the Conclave bring someone like that?”
“How is he even alive! Is he even human?”
“Didn’t you see him resurrect? He’s like a chimera!”
“Which school sent him to interfere!?”
Terrified voices echoed in the cavity. Judging by the reverberations, there were at most five. After one died, no one else seemed to be approaching. Fernandez took a moment to catch his breath and lowered his sword.
“U-Use the spell!”
“Don’t use it! Do you want to die!? This is a powder keg!”
The unpleasant sensation piercing his soul must have been the remnants of magic. Fernandez focused on the sensation in the sword hilt. He missed the stability of holding something. Anyone whose body had been shattered would feel the same.
“Damn it. Damn it. Buy some time! Throw them at him!”
“The spell isn’t complete yet. He’s still just a grunt!”
“He’s alone anyway!”
Ah, that line again. Fernandez remembered, both in his previous life and this one, that those who said such things were all torn apart by the ones who came alone.
He himself had once said such a thing to a champion of a god. That day, he lost all his subordinates and fled his stronghold. It was forty years from now.
‘How old is Diran Shrike now?’
– He’s about our age.
‘I should go see him. That guy.’
At least this time, I won’t have to deal with that damn guy. Fernandez chuckled. Meanwhile, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.
‘Three? No, five.’
– Diemonica’s body is really something.
– Creak…
He felt them surrounding him, moving mechanically like golems. Fernandez swung his sword toward the one approaching closest, feeling the recoil of the greatsword.
– Clang!
‘Blocked it!?’
– A death knight. Even without reason, the instincts ingrained in an old soul remain. West, from above to below!
– Clang!
Following Faijashi’s words, Fernandez quickly swung his sword behind his back to block the attack. The weight of the greatsword was heavy. As the swords clashed, something tickled below his chest. It was a strange, alien sensation.
– Crack!
Forcing the sword to twist free, sparks flew as the blade of the greatsword chipped away. In that brief moment, Fernandez saw a rusted sword thrusting horizontally toward his head.
– Slash!
The sword cut through the rain, passing through empty space. Fernandez quickly rolled away, escaping their range.
“Look at that movement, can he really see?”
“Shh, focus on the ritual! It’s almost done!”
Whatever they were preparing, he had to finish it before then. Due to the overload of his magical vision, he couldn’t sense the flow of magic. He had to rely solely on Diemonica’s body and the divine sensation flowing through his veins to trace the magic.
– Clang!
Again, he deflected a blade coming through the sound of the rain.
There was a gap between the movements of those guys. Fernandez deflected the incoming blade and slithered through like a snake.
– Clang!
After a brief resistance, he felt the greatsword’s blade shatter the guy’s armor. There was a definite weight to it. Without stopping, he twisted his body to dodge the next attack.
– Swish!
– Two of them are coming at once. Dodge back!
‘No, this is my chance!’
[This is how you counter their assault with force.]
It felt like Abel’s voice was echoing in his head. The movements she had shown during their past sparring sessions flashed through his mind. Was it like this?
– Thud!
Fernandez’s sword drew a smooth curve, entangling the enemy’s blade with the crossguard, and then, using the momentum, it bent as if rebounding. The enemies were simply pressing down with brute force.
His elastic core absorbed the recoil, and Fernandez twisted his waist, slashing the greatsword wide!
– Crack!
It cleaved through. There was a definite sensation.
– Thump!
He felt the bodies of the enemies collapsing. Shaking off the strain from the sudden twist, Fernandez paused for a moment.
– Swish!
– Left!
He quickly turned his head, but a sharp pain shot up his cheek. A thrust with tremendous force! Fernandez rolled his body, feeling his sense of balance shaken by the impact. His body slipped on the rainwater.
– Above!
– Crack!
At the sound of the rain being split, Fernandez sprang up and swung his sword. Blades clashed in mid-air, sparks flying once more. Two enemies—one was recovering from the shock of the assault, while the other’s attack followed. Now!
– Crack!
He struck the head of the stationary enemy, then immediately moved to the next!
– Clang!
The blades met at the perfect timing, and the greatsword coiled satisfyingly. This works! Fernandez’s instincts screamed. He twisted the blade, deflecting the assault, and thrust it straight in. A textbook-perfect, powerful thrust!
– Slash!
Another head flew off, and then the next! The tendons in his right arm twitched. Blood infused with divinity raced through his veins like mad. His heightened senses were awakening his instincts!
“This is the end!”
– Crack!
The greatsword’s blade lodged into the staggering enemy’s head, and he felt the helmet and bones crushing. Death knights were mostly immune to physical injuries, but—
Like walkers, ghouls, and most undead constructs, their heads were their weak points. Fernandez exhaled a hot breath, planted the blade into the ground, and paused for a moment.
“Five Knights of the Round Table alone?!”
“Ah, even without reason. From, from where we can’t even see!!”
The Knights of the Round Table, who had died long ago. The process of reviving them while preserving their abilities was complex and meticulous. After the Church of the Underground Burial fell during King Dane’s era, most of the techniques were lost, making this level of undead revival their limit.
Reviving the Hill Giant was possible only with the help of the Necropolis, but the Church’s own capabilities had been pushed to their limits!
‘Something feels off.’
– Why?
‘The Hill Giant was revived.’
– Huh?
Fernandez gauged the direction of the sound and picked up a fallen sword from the ground. His arm twitched and swelled.
‘Remember what that race monk said in the Abandoned Mining Village?’
– That fool. Yeah.
‘His goal wasn’t the revival of the Hill Giant.’
– Crack!
Something shattered in the distance. The sound of rocks breaking away. As if something that had been stuck in place for a long time was being forcibly torn out.
His instincts screamed like crazy.
‘His goal was the revival of the Founding King.’
– Reviving the Founding King’s corpse as a death knight wouldn’t let him swallow this country. That’s a metaphor…
‘If not?’
– …
‘If it’s not a metaphor?’
– Crack!
When Fernandez decided to come to this country. That is, when he decided to prevent the war between the Phaeirn Kingdom and the Dane royal family, his plan was to artificially create a reputation worthy of being called the Founding King’s return.
Once the reputation was secured, he would use sophisticated diplomatic engineering to resolve the situation.
A somewhat far-fetched plan to weave a tale of a great hero with war-deterring power.
How? How could such a story be heard from someone without royal blood?
Fortunately, like the legends of many heroes, the Founding King’s legend ended with the promise of his return.
When death returns, and the monsters and demons of legend, along with a terrible era, arrive.
A hopeful epic that the lost king would return to save the people.
– Crack…
– Rustle.
Something drew a sword from the darkness in the distance. Soon, cheers echoed through the cavern.
“We did it! We succeeded in our time!”
“Damn it, should we bow towards the Necropolis or something?”
“Hahaha, that guy would be perfect for the first test run. Lucky us.”
Fernandez could no longer hold back and threw the sword he was holding. Throwing was his most confident skill. The greatsword, filled with strong force, traced a clean trajectory and flew exactly in the direction he expected.
– Crash!!
The being that emerged from the darkness deflected the greatsword, and small sparks flew. A shattered throne, and around it, robed old men. A corpse lying on the ground. A complex magical formation drawn with blood.
– Whoosh.
Blue flames rose from the being’s eyes. The unique glow of a lich. It meant the being had reason.
‘If the wraiths wandering and the Hill Giant’s revival were all part of the plan…’
– …If the revived King Knight defeats them…
“Hahaha, kill them. Go and kill!!”
Fifteen hundred years was a long time. Long enough to corrupt the soul of a great hero.
Fernandez swallowed hard and looked at the glowing eyes rising before him. There was at least a head’s difference in height. He must have been a giant in life.
The being slowly raised its sword.
– Damn. The King Knight has truly returned.
‘It’s a good thing Abel isn’t here.’
Fernandez sighed and steadied his stance.
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