< 66. According to legend, defeating the monster in the swamp. >
*
Fernandez ran towards the royal castle, feeling the gaze of Mumto upon him. Like all great demons, Mumto had an unparalleled sense of self-worth. Perhaps because he was once mortal, he desired to elevate his reputation and expand his domain even more greedily.
This was the result. Mumto wanted to witness every moment his minions wreaked havoc in this world with his own eyes.
‘That’s his fatal flaw.’
The Nightmarish Mumto was groaning under the seal of the Ancient Temple of the Gods. If such a being was projecting his blessing through the cracks of the seal, it would undoubtedly cause significant damage to him from a macroscopic perspective.
Fernandez glanced at the dark green spirits flying through the black rain. They were screaming and wandering in search of the living. The city was slowly being consumed by death.
-No magic, no weapons. Now, Fernandez. How will you deal with the spirits?
‘With blood.’
On the Avenue of the Sovereign leading to the royal castle, Fernandez tightly gripped his dagger and whispered.
‘Do you remember when we sealed Tetragalan?’
-The three elements of the divine spell?
‘Yes. Origin, prayer, miracle.’
Please, fill my spirit and body, and be my rock. Fernandez quietly recited the prayer amidst the disgust. In essence, it was no different from casting a magic spell. A drop of the saint’s blood as a substitute for the offering.
-Sssss.
Fernandez slashed his right arm with the dagger in his left hand. His right arm, shattered by Cellini’s magic, fortunately felt no pain. The blood flowed along the blade’s groove, mixing with the black rain.
-Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded fiercely, circulating the Blood of Diemonica throughout his body. A response to the prayer. Fernandez tried to shake off the rising heat in his head and maintain his composure. Religious ecstasy never helps.
‘I am not your dog, Vaitas.’
-Sssss…!
The black rain mixed with the saint’s blood and evaporated sharply. Everything influenced by Mumto’s magic slowly disintegrated around his blood and spirit.
-Sssss!!!
-Yes, yes! That’s him.
-The master remembers you, knight.
-The master is very, very interested in you…
-For the disrespect you’ve shown!
Fernandez ignored the groans, screams, curses, and laments of the wraiths passing by. After all, wraiths of insufficient strength couldn’t approach him. The end of the Avenue of the Sovereign was in sight. The land of death crumbled in his wake.
“…Save us…”
“Salvation… Salvation…”
“It’s so cold… Oh God, Shield, give us light…”
Choked groans echoed throughout the city. Under Mumto’s gaze, mortals writhed in fear and pain, collapsing. Hope seemed to melt away in the rain. Fernandez could easily spot dozens of such people within his sight.
-You can’t save them all, Fernandez. And if you stop now, you’ll be giving up on those you could save.
‘Right.’
-And our role is not that of saviors. We couldn’t even save ourselves.
‘True.’
Fernandez kept running. Like the sea parting, like silk tearing. Following his blood, following his strides. The land of death was splitting in two. Along the long road from the Avenue of the Sovereign to the entrance of the royal castle.
Moonlight shone. Fernandez ran towards the moonlight breaking through the clouds. According to modern magic studies, the moon is the mirror of the sun—
And the sun is the light god of the Temple of the Gods. The symbol of Shield.
‘Shield’s blessing is upon me.’
The passion that had risen to the crown of his head cooled, and the fatigue from blood loss and injuries began to entangle his feet. But he didn’t stop. New strength couldn’t guide him every time. Yet, he had never stopped at any moment.
Shield’s light stopped at the entrance of the royal castle. Fernandez slowly came to a halt, gazing at the castle shrouded in dark clouds. Around him, citizens chilled by fear and cold gathered.
To them, Fernandez was the only light in the city now. No more wraiths, black rain, or the dreadful aura of death could approach him.
“Knight… Save us…”
“Knight…”
-Fernandez.
Faijashi’s concerned voice reached him. Fernandez paused briefly, looking at the citizens clutching at his clothes. He could feel the deep fear in their eyes.
Compassion is the stance of a religious person. But I am not Vaitas’ dog, nor the Temple of the Gods’ watchdog. Fernandez struggled to close his eyes, heavy with fatigue. One more step. Into that shadow.
“Ah… Knight.”
“Knight.”
-Ignore them. We already owe too many tears to share their sorrow.
‘Faijashi. What if.’
Fernandez took another step and paused. He gazed at the faintly fading moonlight being devoured by the massive dark clouds and muttered.
“What if I were the King Knight?”
-Don’t talk nonsense. We planned this stage for the play.
“I know, Faijashi. I know. We can’t be heroes or kings.”
-Snap.
The Avenue of the Sovereign was soaked in black rainwater, turning into a muddy swamp. Like a marsh, the mud swirled in the clouds. Step by step, they were sinking deeper into that distant swamp.
-Kiiiiing…
The vision field went wild. Before his eyes, he saw the center of the black cloud blocking the entrance to the Royal Castle. Dark green magic was sealing the castle’s entrance. To break through, there was no choice but to move forward.
-Thud.
At the center of that magic stood a person. Low-level wraiths circled around him, continuously spewing black fog. A tall, imposing figure with a screaming face, clad in black armor.
Through the surging necropolis magic around his body, the knight’s true face faintly appeared.
“Sir Baimeer…”
-Captured by the land of death. Knight of the Round Table.
It was Baimeer. His face looked much younger than the last time he had seen him, but despite the pale face and blackened eyes, Fernandez could see the knight’s true essence.
-Swoosh.
[Come, traitor.]
Baimeer, groaning under the weight of madness, drew his longsword and thrust it toward him. He growled with a blood-boiling voice.
[The honor… of the Royal Family!]
“A work of the Necropolis Conclave. The mad puppet. Your doing.”
Fernandez whispered, sensing the presence of a wraith laughing beyond Baimeer’s eyes. The vision field was identifying the creature. He had met it in a previous life.
A member of the Necropolis Conclave, Papftet. He was the mastermind behind the Abandoned Mining Village.
The creature was far away, looking down at him from inside the Royal Palace, snickering. Fernandez took another step toward Baimeer and said.
“Wait there, Papftet.”
[What can you do?]
Through the vision field, the creature’s words echoed like a hallucination. Fernandez didn’t take his eyes off Baimeer’s trembling hand and screaming face as he took another step. He gripped his dagger tightly.
“Judgment.”
Baimeer let out a bizarre scream and lunged. Incredible speed and weight!
-Crash!!
Baimeer’s sword stopped mid-air. Fernandez’s dagger blocked his sword, the crossguard holding it back. It was an immense force. Fernandez struggled to shake off the pressure on his arm.
-Thud!
Baimeer immediately pushed him back with his shoulder. The blow hit Fernandez’s chest, and the shock spread. Baimeer’s sword flew toward his neck like a magnet.
-Clang!
Sparks flew as the swords clashed. In that brief moment, Fernandez saw Baimeer’s screaming face. Confusion, madness, anger, hatred. Countless emotions were swirling on his face.
-Clang! Clang! Clang!
Fernandez blocked Baimeer’s sword and kept stepping back. The difference in power between a longsword and a dagger couldn’t be ignored easily. Though Baimeer’s swordsmanship had dulled due to madness, that didn’t mean he was easy to deal with.
-Crack!
Fernandez stopped and stomped the ground with all his might. His shoes, stuck in the mud, were getting heavier. But there was no more room to retreat. Citizens, chasing the moonlight, were right behind him.
-Crash!
His dagger began to crack. Baimeer’s sword, bathed in moonlight, shone coldly. Fernandez watched as the longsword swung down slowly.
If he dodged, or stepped back. Fernandez glanced at the trembling citizen in the sword’s path. It was an unconscious moment. His wounded right arm blocked Baimeer’s sword.
-Slash!
The longsword struck his arm, and an immense pain shot through his mind. The severed arm and the flowing longsword seemed to move in slow motion. The moonlight pierced through the clouds for a brief moment, illuminating his head.
“…Oh God…”
The terrified voices of the citizens reached his ears.
The moonlight scattered above his head, creating a faint halo.
*
Thirty years after the Temple of the Gods closed its doors, in an era where miracles no longer descended upon civilized society. The citizens of Altberth watched a young man fight against the Black Knight.
With a wounded body and a single dagger in hand. The fearless young knight’s figure drew the citizens, one by one, seeking light and salvation.
A short, yet fierce battle ensued. When the young knight’s dagger shattered, the Black Knight’s sword veered off and fell toward the citizens.
-Slash!
At that moment, the young knight stretched out his right arm and caught the knight’s sword. Blood splattered everywhere, and the Black Knight’s movements stopped. Everyone present saw the white halo rising above the young man’s head.
“…Oh God…”
The aura of death surrounding them wavered and collapsed. The curtain was pulled back, and the black cloud covering the Royal Castle’s entrance dispersed. The young man, having lost an arm, took a step toward the halted Black Knight.
*
-Idiot.
Fernandez heard Faijashi’s shout in his ear. Despite the pain and blood loss dulling his senses, the voice was crystal clear. Fernandez gripped the shattered dagger and took step after step toward Baimeer.
Baimeer stood there, wide-eyed and stunned. Fernandez slowly pressed the dagger against his throat.
[Fernandez… Finish it…]
“Rest in peace. Baimeer of Althais.”
[May Shield’s blessing be with you.]
-Stab.
-Crash!!
Baimeer’s voice regained reason. Fernandez didn’t respond, driving the dagger deep into his throat. At the same time, the death magic enveloping the Royal Castle’s walls shattered.
Into it. Fernandez walked in, bleeding.
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