54. Act 1, The Abandoned Mine Haunted by Undead (5)
*
Kailen’s mercenaries, still nursing their wounds from the battle with the trolls, were suddenly ambushed by the villagers. By the time Kailen found them, it was too late—they had already been dragged out in front of the townsfolk.
The fire, which had consumed the barn and five thatched houses, finally died down. Kailen knelt on the ashes left by the flames, staring at the villagers.
The villagers glared at them, holding farming tools, pitchforks, and hand axes. From among them, a large man stepped forward, holding a bloodied Flesh Cleaver.
“On the day guests arrived in our village, a fire broke out…”
“W-we can explain! We were all quietly staying in the lodging you provided!”
“So, are you saying we started the fire ourselves?”
“N-no, not exactly… Wait! An earthquake! Couldn’t the fire have been caused by an earthquake? There was a lamp in the room I was staying in! If it fell, it could have started a fire!”
“No, no, no, no.”
The man slowly raised the Flesh Cleaver, scratching his forehead with the back of the blade.
“There was nothing in there that could start a fire. Our villagers don’t have expensive things like lamps. And the fire started in the barn.”
“Please! W-we belong to the Chepia Trading Company! If we disappear, a search will definitely begin!”
“Don’t worry about that. Your broken wagon will serve as evidence.”
The man smirked. The wagon, destroyed by the trolls, had been roughly cleared to the side of the road.
Moreover, the wagon bore clear marks of a monster’s attack—scratches and dents from the troll’s claws and arms. Kailen’s face grew paler. The man licked his lips, eyeing Kailen’s plump belly and his arms, which showed no signs of labor.
“You can help fill our bellies.”
“Y-yes! Yes! Food! If you let me go, I’ll definitely bring food…”
“No, ‘you’ can help fill our bellies.”
At the man’s words, Kailen’s mouth snapped shut. He stared at the bloodied Flesh Cleaver. When he was dragged here, his servants were nowhere to be seen.
“Where are my attendants…?”
“Ah, some are preparing to become one with us, and others are heading to a better place.”
The man chuckled softly and stepped back. The villagers parted, revealing the plaza. In the center stood a pole.
“What is that?!”
On the pole, his servants were hanging. They must have been beaten during the chaos, as their jaws were dislocated. They twisted in pain, bleeding as they hung from the pole.
On their foreheads was a strange butterfly-shaped brand, crudely carved with a sharp awl. Blood from the brand covered their faces, foaming as they struggled to breathe.
“What have you done…? Temple of the Gods, grant us your blessing… What have you done…?”
“We’ve given the meat a better purpose. You’ll join them soon. Haha. Don’t feel wronged. You’re becoming something greater!”
The man’s eyes gleamed with madness as he laughed. He slowly raised the Flesh Cleaver. Kailen’s face turned deathly pale.
*
Kirhas crouched on the roof, her ears perked up, growling softly. Her slender body was tense, ready to pounce at any moment.
“Just a little longer.”
“Your Excellency…”
At Angela’s words, Kirhas clenched her teeth and glanced at Fernandez. Fernandez frowned and asked Angela,
“How long do we have to wait?”
“Until we gather more concrete evidence. We didn’t infiltrate to enforce justice. We’ve waited this long to confirm the existence of the Necropolis.”
As she spoke, she began forming hand seals. Her movements were precise and simple, meant solely for destruction. But her seals were abruptly interrupted.
-Snap.
In an instant, Fernandez’s hand appeared, cutting off her seals and entwining her fingers. His grip was firm, and Angela frowned. It was the first expression she had shown since meeting Fernandez.
“What are you doing?”
“No magic. Angela, magic leaves traces.”
“…? Why can’t we leave traces? I’ve already used it once.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t use it again. We can still hide it.”
“That’s why I’m asking for a reason.”
“Our role isn’t that of mages. Just as I’m helping you, you need to help me.”
“…Role?”
“A very devout knight. Albert of Sernerd. He’s clueless about magic.”
Fernandez’s blue eyes scanned the plaza. Most of the villagers were insignificant heretics, but that man was different. He had learned proper rituals. He must be the village’s high priest.
From the moment the man displayed the servants in the plaza, Fernandez understood his intentions. The village’s food supply had already dwindled to unsustainable levels. In that situation, the man had made a swift decision.
It was demon summoning. He intended to summon a demon to gain power and turn the situation around. He would likely raid nearby villages. Leading simple serfs would be difficult, but with a demon’s power, it was feasible.
As the servants hung from the pole, their blood…
When drawing a grotesque magical formation on the floor with blood, Kirhas’s anger grew to an unbearable level.
Kirhas’s eyes were almost burning. Fernandez sighed under Angela’s gaze and gently stroked the back of her neck.
“Kirhas. Do you remember your oath?”
In the underground of Gloridaine’s slave market. The oath made while gazing at the dawn sky.
Fernandez looked down at Kirhas.
She stared into Fernandez’s eyes and slowly lowered her ears.
“…I am loyal only to Your Excellency.”
Not to the gods, the church, or the greater cause. Only to you. Hearing those words, Fernandez smiled as he cast a shadow over her head. Watching this, Angela made a subtle expression. Her face was gradually becoming more colorful.
“Truly, words befitting a Devout Knight. Sir Albert?”
“Hmm.”
Far below, the man finally lifted the Flesh Cleaver. Despair twisted across the face of the kneeling Kailen. This was enough.
“It seems this won’t do. Angela, find the evidence from the corpses.”
“Wait. Just a little more…”
Kirhas looked at Fernandez and finally smiled in relief. You held out well. Fernandez stroked her head and nodded.
*
Like a flash of light tearing through a curtain. Like an arrow just shot from a bow. Kirhas and Fernandez burst through the roof and leaped. No one had noticed them yet.
“Your Excellency!”
“To the plaza!”
“Yes!!”
Kirhas gripped her longsword tightly and stepped on the roof. She sprang forward in a straight line toward the plaza, her body bouncing with elasticity. Roof to roof, eave to eave. She ran like a beast, agile and swift!
-Swish!!
Beside her, something flew ahead. A dagger thrown by Fernandez in midair surpassed her speed—
-Thud!
“Gaaah!!!”
It embedded itself in the wrist of the man holding the Flesh Cleaver!
“Who, who is it?!”
“A, a knight!!”
“A knight?!”
The man turned around, clutching the dropped Flesh Cleaver. His eyes widened. Blue eyes were glaring at him.
Like a demon tearing through the boundary of hell, the man’s spirit was completely overwhelmed by Fernandez’s gaze in an instant.
Fernandez walked forward, his longsword hanging low, through the crowd that recoiled in fear. No one dared to stop him.
Fernandez’s gaze fell on the ruined barn. In the corner of the barn, a charred, blackened hand stuck out from between the shattered beams.
Fernandez quickly made the sign of the cross. It wasn’t born of devotion. The prayer was merely an act. Yet, he felt the divine bloodline pulse in sync with his prayer.
The Prayer of the Saint could surely bring forth a miracle. In this era where the Temple of the Gods was sealed, the saint held such meaning. Surely, the victims trapped and killed in that ruin had ascended to the temple’s hall.
Fernandez knew this was nothing but self-consolation. But what did it matter? Even if it was just self-satisfaction, a disgusting hypocrisy.
“A, a knight is nothing special?! He’s alone!!”
Looking at the villagers charging at him, Fernandez gripped the sword hilt. It was laughable.
In his past life, he had uttered similar words. To the hero who charged at his cult.
What was his name? Dairan, was it?
Now I get to hear such words too. In this ironic situation, he couldn’t stop laughing.
-Slice.
The blade flicked upward, cutting through the villager’s throat. Hot blood splattered on his face. Fernandez lowered his head like flowing water. A club swung through the air, grazing the back of his head.
-Slice!
In a low stance, Fernandez slashed horizontally, cutting down the villager before him. The finely forged Full Saintmetal Longsword passed through the villager’s emaciated leg, gleaming in the air.
A lesson to be taught. Fernandez’s eyes glinted through his hair. Whenever someone said that, they always ended up dead at the hands of the lone one.
*
The man stepped back, clutching his bleeding wrist. He had heard countless heroic tales of the Kingdom Knights, but seeing it in person was on another level.
One by one. The knight slaughtered people with astonishing efficiency. Even if they were human, flesh and bone, metal cutting through would kill them all the same. But now, he couldn’t even believe such a simple fact.
The villagers were rapidly dwindling. Surrounding him? The sheer force that shattered attacks from all four directions at once rendered it meaningless. Even the finest longsword had its limits.
The human body was made of fat and bones. As someone who had dismembered countless people, he knew that better than anyone. Even a perfectly maintained blade would dull after cutting through flesh without proper care.
But this young knight, with strength and skill, ignored all those conditions and slaughtered the villagers. Even if the knight had been wielding a club, the result would have been no different.
“This, this can’t be.”
The man quickly muttered and picked up the Flesh Cleaver. His eyes, glinting with madness, glared at the villager charging at him.
“R, run away!”
“Really? Truly?”
The man’s blade swiftly struck the villager’s neck. The villager choked, clutching his throat, and stumbled back.
“Gah! Gahk!”
“Isn’t this enough?! Damn it, just get out of here already!!”
The blood of the dying villagers flowed across the plaza floor. The summoning circle remained incomplete. The man bit his lip as he watched the knight approaching closer.
Then, someone whispered in his ear.
[They were already here.]
-Thud!
The man stared blankly at the dark green blade protruding from his chest. The coldness of the blade seeped through his veins, freezing his body.
“Grrr…”
[Interesting.]
Behind him, a snickering voice was heard. The man forced himself to turn his head. There, standing among the charred beams of the barn, was a corpse with a shattered body.
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