The Devil’s Sacred Sword (11)
The first thing to arrive was an arrow.
Whoosh—!
The arrow, shot from a crossbow, gleamed under the starlight, its tip smeared with a deadly poison.
Dalen reacted as he always did.
With ease, he reached out and caught the arrow, then returned it to the shooter who had aimed at him.
“Gah!”
The shooter, who had been reaching for another arrow, clutched his throat and collapsed.
Only the fletching of the arrow protruded from his neck, and the veins around it swelled with a sickly blue hue, indicating the potency of the poison.
“Haap!”
“Die!”
Following the arrow came the thrust of swords. Two adventurers, slightly out of sync, swung their blades at him.
They were twins, identical save for a single mole on one of their faces.
One positioned himself to Dalen’s left, the other to his right.
Swish—
The left twin aimed for Dalen’s neck, while the right one slashed at his thigh in a coordinated attack.
It was clear they had practiced this maneuver many times. Dalen’s lips curled into a fierce grin.
And then.
Whoosh—
His feet blurred for a moment.
Thud!
“Ugh!”
The sword aimed at his thigh was violently deflected, sending the attacker stumbling backward from the force.
In that instant, Dalen parried the other twin’s sword and took his head clean off.
Thud, the twin’s head fell to the ground before him.
“Taren…?”
The remaining twin’s eyes widened in shock. Before he could react, Dalen’s foot blurred again.
Crunch!
The twin’s temple caved in as if struck by a hammer, his skull collapsing inward.
Red and white matter spilled from the gaping hole.
The adventurers who had been rushing in hesitated. From the back, one of them shouted a spell.
“Ignel—Baladum!”
Fwoosh!
Spears of fire materialized in the air, three of them burning brightly and dispelling the darkness.
Someone, filled with hope, shouted, “Yes! This is it! He can’t block fire with a sword!”
They were right. A sword couldn’t block fire.
But if you can’t block it, you just have to make sure it never hits you.
Whirr—!
A disc of light sliced through the clearing, reflecting the fiery spears and glowing red.
“Ignel—ugh!”
The mage, in the middle of casting another spell, was struck in the forehead by an axe, and the fiery spears exploded in mid-air, scattering embers.
”…”
The adventurer who had been cheering fell silent.
As the embers drifted down, the atmosphere in the clearing grew heavy.
Even the mage they had relied on was dead in an instant.
Out of the twenty or so comrades, five were already corpses.
As the thrill of battle cooled, the adventurers began to falter, their reason returning.
“S-surrender?”
One of them raised his hands and muttered softly. Dalen laughed, incredulous.
“Surrender, my ass.”
Boom!
The earth erupted, and Dalen’s figure vanished.
Slash—
The adventurer who had suggested surrender was sliced diagonally, his eyes wide with disbelief even in death.
“Ahhh!”
The adventurer next to him, horrified by the spray of blood, raised his shield.
Crunch!
Dalen simply swung his sword down. The adventurer was cleaved in half, shield and all.
“M-monster!”
“Everyone, run! Regroup at the meeting point!”
The adventurers scattered in all directions, trying to avoid capture.
But escaping Dalen’s grasp was not so simple. He tensed his legs and feet once more.
Boom!
As the ground exploded beneath him, his sword pursued the next target.
The ensuing battle was one-sided.
In truth, it was more a hunt than a battle.
If they turned their backs to flee, Dalen’s leap skill would catch up, and his sword would sever their waists or take their heads.
Even if they tried to fight back, the result was the same. Their heads would fly, and their weapons would be cleaved in two.
By the time the earth had erupted about ten times from his leap skill, only two adventurers remained.
A bald adventurer and a seasoned-looking one with a bushy beard.
Splash.
Dalen walked slowly, his steps creating ripples in the pool of blood beneath him.
The clearing at the edge of the forest was now covered in blood and entrails.
The twenty or so adventurers had all become corpses, still gushing red blood.
The bearded adventurer spoke in a voice tinged with fear.
”…What are you?”
His fierce eyes trembled. Despite his seasoned appearance, he was terrified.
Dalen remembered his face.
He was the adventurer the bald one had been whispering to, trying to persuade before they entered the labyrinth.
Splash. Splash.
Dalen approached them with leisurely steps. He spoke.
“Let me ask again. When did you start following us?”
”…Two days ago. We noticed unusual movements among the gnolls and traced them back to you and the holy knight heading south. We followed right behind.”
The bearded man answered readily. Having witnessed Dalen’s superhuman prowess, he made a quick decision.
“Why?”
At Dalen’s question, the bearded man shrugged.
“Anyone could see you were carrying a vault likely filled with treasure. How could we just pass that by?”
Dalen chuckled bitterly. So it was the vault, after all.
The vault inside the gnoll chieftain’s tent had an unexpectedly complex lock.
While it could be forced open, doing so risked damaging the contents.
In such cases, it was better to spend some money and find an expert through Sienna’s connections.
So Dalen had ended up carrying the vault, chained to his back, until they left the labyrinth.
These adventurers had been chasing him all this time, hoping to steal it.
“Tsk.”
Dalen clicked his tongue. At that moment, the bearded man spoke up.
“I propose a deal.”
He placed his sword on the ground and slowly reached into his coat.
What he pulled out was a small wooden totem.
“This totem prevents sound and scent from escaping within five hundred paces. We used it to track you. I’ll offer it in exchange for my life.”
Dalen raised an eyebrow. A deal with the enemy who had killed all his comrades.
He extended his empty left hand, signaling for the totem.
The bearded man cautiously lowered his hand, then tossed the totem to Dalen.
Whoosh—
The wooden totem arced through the air.
And at that moment.
Click—Boom!
From inside the bearded man’s sleeve, a hidden mechanism exploded with gunpowder, firing a small lead bullet at a speed far faster than an arrow.
Crack!
The flying totem shattered into pieces as the bullet, the size of a thumb joint, continued its trajectory toward Dalen’s heart.
In that instant, Dalen thought, A deal, my ass.
He reached out as he always did, but this time with more caution.
He had caught many arrows before, but this was his first bullet.
The subtle art of armored combat came into play, and his fingers and palm deftly caught the bullet.
Sizzle—
His palm was slightly torn, but it was no problem. His muscles, harder than steel, remained unscathed.
Dalen opened his hand, showing the round bullet, and rolled it around as he spoke.
“You must have connections with the Imperial Army or the Tsar’s royal family. Gunpowder weapons aren’t even widely available on the black market yet.”
”…M-monster.”
Dalen chuckled. He pinched the bullet between two fingers and tossed it back at the bearded adventurer.
Whoosh—Thud!
The bullet flew back at nearly the same speed it had been fired. The bearded man couldn’t react and crumpled to the ground.
A thumb-sized hole in his chest gushed blood.
Dalen approached and searched the man’s coat. He found a small vial of gunpowder, several lead bullets, and a mercenary badge.
‘A gold-tier mercenary, huh.’
Wiping the blood off the badge with the man’s clothes, a name engraved in gold leaf was revealed.
Boris.
Judging by the name, he was likely from the northern continent, the Tsar’s domain.
”…”
The bald adventurer, who had been watching quietly, saw his chance and began to back away slowly.
Without turning, Dalen flicked his hand. Several bullets flew from his fingertips.
Pew pew pew—
“Argh!”
The bald man screamed and collapsed as bullets pierced his calves and thighs.
“Argh! Ahhh!”
“Where do you think you’re going, you bastard?”
Dalen approached the bald man, who was writhing on the ground, screaming in pain.
Dallon sniffed and drove his sword deep into the ground right next to the man’s neck.
Hiccup.
The scream stopped abruptly.
Resting his hand casually on the sword’s hilt, Dallon asked, “Who stabbed the paladin?”
The bald man’s eyes widened in shock, as if wondering how Dallon could possibly know.
Dallon chuckled softly. “A paladin in perfect health loses his holy sword after stabbing a low-level demon? Does that make any sense to you? Especially when the demon was so weak it got banished to the first floor of the labyrinth?”
“I-I don’t know anything about that. Why would you think I do?”
“You were part of the raid, weren’t you?”
The bald man clamped his lips shut. Dallon nodded, understanding the silent defiance.
So that’s how you want to play it.
He sheathed his sword and retrieved an axe from the corpse of a nearby mage. Squatting down in front of the bald man, he offered, “I’ll give you two choices.”
He continued, “One, you keep your mouth shut, and I cut off your limbs and hang you upside down from that tree over there. The wolves around here are starving, you know. They won’t even bother with a fire; they’ll just eat you alive.”
The bald man’s face turned ashen. The barbarian in front of him seemed capable of far worse without a second thought.
Dallon smiled gently, his voice almost soothing. “The other option is you tell me everything you know, and I’ll make sure your death is as painless as possible. A quick beheading, perhaps. Sounds humane, doesn’t it?”
“I… I stabbed him.”
The unexpected confession hung in the air.
Dallon crossed his arms, signaling for him to continue.
The bald man trembled, his jaw quivering as he spoke. “It was strange, seeing such a young paladin with a holy sword. It had to be one of two things: either the paladin order had lost their minds and entrusted a rookie with it, or the kid had gone rogue and stolen it.”
If the order was crazy, selling the sword on the black market was an option. If the kid was crazy, returning the sword could earn a hefty reward.
Dallon listened, nodding slowly. “So you decided to kill him and take it?”
“It started as a joke, really. Losing a paladin would be a blow to the demon-hunting squad. But when the sword pierced the demon’s belly and the paladin got injured, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. A chance to take both.”
Dallon laughed, a low, chilling sound that sent shivers down the bald man’s spine.
“A joke, huh.”
Talking about murder and theft as if it were a casual jest.
A life of a bandit and murderer, no doubt.
Dallon knew that among the explorers descending into the labyrinth, there were often such scoundrels. They were commonly known as labyrinth bandits.
His own character had been robbed by such bandits before, so their involvement in this incident wasn’t particularly surprising.
‘But that’s just my perspective.’
The client he was working with would surely see things differently.
“So you stabbed the injured paladin in the back?”
“I-I wasn’t the only one. Rakus, the one you killed earlier, shot first, and a few others with me joined in.”
The bald man stammered, trying to justify himself. Dallon nodded again, turning his gaze toward the clearing.
A soft rustle.
Someone was approaching through the night, cloaked in a dark robe. Golden hair peeked out from under the hood, and blue eyes glowed like ghostly flames.
Dallon had started interrogating instead of killing because he sensed someone watching from the shadows.
That someone was the paladin himself, who had descended into the labyrinth to find traces of his fallen comrade, unlike Dallon, who was merely following a contract.
Meanwhile, the bald man, still oblivious, continued to plead with Dallon.
“As an explorer, you must understand. One big score, and we wouldn’t have to come back to this hellhole! Who wouldn’t be tempted? Please, spare me. I don’t want to lose my life so meaninglessly after escaping the demon’s grasp…”
“You bastards.”
The figure in the shadows, Lucia, spoke, her voice trembling slightly.
“W-who are you…?”
The bald man turned, spotting her blue eyes in the darkness, his mouth agape.
Lucia slowly pulled back her hood, her words dripping with venom. “Yeah, you piece of scum. I’m the comrade of that young paladin you killed.”