The Devil’s Sacred Sword (12)
“I’m really glad.”
Splash.
Lucia’s boots stepped into a pool of blood.
“That pathetic demon was incompetent enough to let you slip away.”
Shing.
She slowly drew her sword, its pristine blade shimmering softly under the starlight.
“Ugh, ugh…”
The bald man trembled, his lips quivering as he crawled backward. Lucia followed him, her sword hanging low.
Splash. Splash.
The ground bore the marks of his desperate crawl, smeared with blood from Lucia’s boots.
It was like the footprints of a condemned man fleeing his fate, and the reaper closing in to claim him.
“Thanks to that, even if I couldn’t protect them…”
Swoosh—
The blade was enveloped in a radiant white light.
The divine energy flickering along the sword’s edge resembled a blazing white flame.
Before the bald man, who was shaking and wetting his pants in fear, Lucia gripped the sword with both hands, raising it upside down so the tip pointed to the ground.
And then, like a death sentence, her final words slipped from her lips.
“…at least I can personally avenge the blood of a respected comrade.”
Thud.
The sword’s tip pierced through the bald man’s foot.
In an instant, the white flames roared to life, consuming his foot and ankle.
“Ah, ahhh! Aaaah!”
His screams echoed, but the flames did not relent.
They climbed up his leg, devouring his calf and thigh, then slowly engulfed his pelvis and waist. The other leg was already swallowed by the white fire.
“Aaaah! Nooo!”
Dalen watched from a few steps away.
The white flames licked at the victim’s skin, but unlike real fire, there was no smell of burning flesh.
Of course, there wouldn’t be.
These flames were forged from divine power.
They consumed skin, then muscle, and finally bone, erasing everything else while keeping the victim’s nerves alive to inflict endless agony.
‘The White Flame of Exorcism.’
Its cruelty made it nearly forbidden even among the Holy Knights.
Only a select few were taught this technique, and it was rarely used, reserved for interrogating the most vile demon followers.
“Aaagh! Aaah!”
His legs were completely consumed, the bones blackened and melted. The white flames spread to his abdomen, chest, and arms.
The sight of skin and muscle melting away into ash was horrific in a different way from the blood and entrails strewn across the clearing.
Yet Lucia watched it all, her eyes unblinking and silent.
“Huff! Gaaah—”
The flames reached his lungs and throat.
Black ash and white flames flickered from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
The fire burned him from the inside and out.
In that unbearable pain, the bald man, now reduced to a charred upper body, writhed in silent screams.
Thud—crack!
Finally, his heart, unable to withstand the heat, burst with a dull thud, bringing an end to his suffering.
”…”
The white flames swept over the remaining skull and brain, leaving nothing behind.
The only evidence of the bald man’s existence was his intact clothes, weapons, and mercenary badge.
Swoosh.
Dalen picked up the silver badge from among the clothes. He turned to look at Lucia.
She stood there, her sword blazing with light, her long golden hair cascading down.
”…”
Her body trembled slightly.
Clad in dark robes over her armor, she seemed almost one with the night’s shadows, save for her golden hair and blue eyes.
Dalen watched her quietly, then tucked the badge into his coat. He spoke.
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
The knight answered immediately.
“I don’t regret it. At least… not the revenge.”
But her face told a different story.
Her eyelashes quivered, her face was pale, and a thin line of blood trickled from her tightly bitten lip.
Her expression was a mix of guilt and confusion, and Dalen murmured with a detached air.
“Humans are creatures of regret.”
“I don’t regret it.”
“Then do you blame yourself?”
There was no answer. Dalen scratched his chin, feeling the rough stubble. He continued in a nonchalant tone.
“Having a past you regret means it helped shape who you are now. In other words, wondering if things would be different if you’d acted differently is just a meaningless fantasy.”
After gaining unexpected power, he often thought back.
Even while working at a respectable company, he lived like a lethargic gaming addict at home.
He achieved feats he never dared to dream of in the past and often questioned himself.
If he could return to those days, would he still live as a useless gaming addict?
‘It was a pointless question.’
Reflecting on past choices was only possible because he had moved beyond those times.
Thirty-four years on Earth.
And two years on this continent.
The person Dalen had become was built brick by brick from those years.
Reflection and regret are different.
Improvement and self-reproach are two sides of the same coin.
After much contemplation, Dalen concluded that he should embrace the former and let the latter go.
If that gaming addict hadn’t existed back then…
The hero saving the world from destruction now wouldn’t have been possible.
“Because of the me who regrets, there’s a better me now. If I’m dissatisfied with who I am now, then my future self will be better.”
Tap, tap.
His large, thick hand patted Lucia’s shoulder.
The tension in her clenched jaw eased, and the trembling in her blue eyes subsided.
Then Lucia spoke slowly, but clearly.
“Thank you, Dalen.”
She took a deep breath, as if the words were overwhelming. She inhaled slowly, exhaled, and continued.
”…Thank you for honoring Barrett’s memory.”
“I didn’t do it.”
Lucia looked up. Dalen shrugged.
“You were the one who made the request, and you were the one who insisted on your comrade’s loyalty. I was just a mercenary who happened to take the job.”
And I’ll be well compensated, so there’s no need for guilt. Dalen added with a smile.
“Very well. Since you did better than expected, let’s renegotiate the fee once we’re out of here.”
“A client who pays well is always welcome.”
Dalen laughed aloud. Lucia’s lips curled slightly.
A sad smile, but no longer a complicated one.
After taking another deep breath, she spoke.
“Let’s head out. It’s late, but I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.”
“Understood.”
Lucia nodded and started walking toward the campsite.
Dalen paused for a moment, then pulled out the silver mercenary badge from his pocket.
He brushed off the black ash, revealing the name once more.
‘Skinhead.’
A nickname, likely used as a mercenary.
Dalen chuckled and slipped the badge back into his pocket.
‘Looks like I have a task for the Raven’s Nest.’
Though he didn’t know the real name, tracking the past deeds with just the nickname wouldn’t be difficult.
According to the bald man’s testimony, the explorer who betrayed the knight wasn’t alone.
If revenge was to be had, it had to be complete, as was his philosophy.
Surviving in this world sometimes required such ruthless attitudes.
It wouldn’t be easy for a young apprentice knight to think that far.
In that case, he was willing to take on the task of finding the name.
Muttering the name engraved on the badge a few times to commit it to memory, Dalen followed Lucia out of the clearing.
Before long, the scent of blood attracted gnolls, who began to gather in the clearing one by one.
After that day, the group quickened their pace.
However, their route changed slightly.
Where they had previously chosen the fastest and safest paths, after the battle with the explorers, Dalen led them through more treacherous and dangerous areas.
‘If the bald explorer’s words were true, the demon might not be as injured as we thought.’
Demons are cunning creatures.
It was likely the demon had anticipated the explorers’ greed.
Even if it wasn’t gravely injured, it might have feigned weakness to incite the explorers to betray the knight.
A direct confrontation would have been difficult for it, so it likely used its wits.
‘And if the demon has fully recovered, we need to be more prepared.’
Preparation didn’t mean anything grand.
It was about extracting as much as possible without deviating too much from their path.
On the first day, Dalen and Lucia entered a large swamp.
That night, Dalen wiped out a tribe of wild frogmen and retrieved a corpse from the heart of their nest.
[You have retrieved the body of an archer who dreamed of becoming a demon archer. You inherit their abilities.]
[Inheritance Reward: Magic +1]
On the second day, as they traversed the misty hills, the two travelers stumbled upon an abandoned cabin and decided to spend the night there.
While Lucia slept, Dalen pried open the floorboards of the cabin’s main room and descended below.
Beneath the cabin lay a hidden drug cultivation site, long neglected and overgrown with weeds, perhaps due to some misfortune that befell its owner.
Amidst the overgrowth was a single herb, altered by the labyrinth’s magic over time, now akin to a potent elixir.
“It boosts your stamina by one but drops your intelligence by one.”
Sure enough, the moment he consumed it, a splitting headache hit him like a hammer.
The sensation of his intelligence slipping away in real-time was an unsettling experience beyond imagination.
“Ugh… damn it.”
Fortunately, after a night’s rest, the headache vanished, leaving their plans for the next day unaffected.
On the third day, they ventured through what explorers called the “Forest of Ghosts.”
A sinister forest where the trees moved silently of their own accord, leading travelers astray or pushing them toward sheer cliffs.
Crack—thud!
Dalen forged his own path, breaking through the obstructing trees with ease.
His senses were honed to an extreme, too sharp to be confused by a few moving trees.
[You have discovered the body of a lost guide. You inherit their abilities.]
[Inheritance Reward: Sense +1]
During this process, Dalen recovered the body of someone who had starved to death after losing their way, confirming a suspicion he had.
“Since forming a small domain, the rewards from recovering bodies have noticeably decreased.”
Not all rewards had diminished, as evidenced by the crushing sword he obtained from a warrior’s corpse.
However, the rewards from poorly developed characters, often referred to as “failed characters,” were now limited to a single stat increase.
It was disappointing, but unavoidable.
He realized he needed to adjust his long-term strategy.
“Instead of seeking out numerous bodies, I should focus on finding those of stronger characters.”
Thus, the fourth day arrived.
Despite the grueling march that took them farther than expected, Lucia kept pace without showing any signs of fatigue.
As the sun began to set on the fourth day, Dalen and Lucia reached the entrance of a cave rumored to be the lair of a demon.
“This must be the place,” Lucia said, biting her lip. Dalen scratched his chin thoughtfully beside her.
“I didn’t expect a demon’s lair to look ordinary, but this is beyond what I imagined.”
“Indeed,” Dalen agreed.
The entrance to the demon’s cave was marked by a gruesome display: a heap of a hundred or so explorers’ bodies, torn and scattered, exuding a dark, ominous aura.
The way they blocked the entrance seemed to serve as a grim warning of what awaited inside.
A low growl emanated from the pile of corpses as they began to stir.
Limbs, torsos, heads, and entrails were bound together by long strands of veins and intestines.
The mass of bodies took the form of a four-armed giant, emitting a mournful groan from mouths scattered across its body.
“God of War…” Lucia murmured, drawing her sword as a soft light began to emanate from her.
Dalen raised an eyebrow, casually stroking the head of his axe as he eyed the corpse giant.
It stood about as tall as a three-story building, promising a substantial amount of experience points.
Having dealt with the labyrinth thieves and wiped out the Frogman tribe, his experience bar was nearing a level-up.
“That one should do it.”
“Dalen, I’ll distract it while you—”
Before Lucia could finish, the ground beside her erupted, and Dalen vanished from sight.