Episode 586
Searing Pain. The ultimate agony a human can endure—a catastrophic torment akin to being burned alive, plummeting straight to the very depths of hell.

To watch your own body engulfed in flames with your own eyes is a trauma that strikes not only the flesh but the mind itself.

“Aaah! Damn it!”

“Beric! Calm down! Ugh!”

Beric slammed his blazing arm against the cavern wall, screaming in agony, but the inferno only grew fiercer. Eventually, he collapsed forward, overcome by the relentless blaze.

Hale was no different. Even knowing it was all a hallucination, the mind’s perception and the visceral reality were worlds apart. Desperate to quell the flames, he conjured water through magic.

Ziiing!

Ssshhh!

A torrent of water burst forth, drenching them both in a refreshing cascade. Their thrashing ceased momentarily. Rutherford’s so-called “hallucination” was simply the sensation of their bodies burning.

It wasn’t an eternal flame, nor an unquenchable one. By all logic, fire couldn’t exist submerged in water.

“Hah, hah…”

“Damn this… ugh, spit!”

Hale planted his hands on the ground, gasping for breath, while Beric, utterly drained, let saliva drip from his mouth.

Rutherford lightly blocked the rushing water with an Idgal barrier and chuckled.

“Look at them, struggling like that… haha…”

All the worry about what lay beneath the cliff, or whether they could turn the situation around, suddenly felt pointless. Just look at those two, trapped and flailing, deceived by something invisible.

Rutherford, like a god, had changed their world with a single word. Now, his own world was about to shift.

“Beric, it’s a hallucination. Cover your ears. If you don’t hear it, it won’t affect you.”

“Cover my ears? You think that’ll stop that bastard from babbling? And there’s nothing to block it with. I need my sword in hand. Besides—”

Before Rutherford could finish, Beric crossed his hands in an X and drew his crimson greatsword. Without hesitation, he charged at Rutherford. His focus was slightly blurred, likely from the aftereffects of the searing pain, but his aim was true.

“Ian said it himself! The surest way to deal with heretical thoughts is to eliminate their source. That mouth’s the problem—cutting out that bastard’s tongue is the fastest, best solution!”

“Beric, this time it’s an unquenchable fire—”

“Shut up! I’m not listening!”

Boom! Boom!

Ssshhh! Koo-gung!

The deafening noise drowned out Rutherford’s words. Though deep within a cavern beneath a cliff, no one seemed concerned about the risk of collapse.

Hale instinctively covered his head and shrank back, and Rutherford stepped back in surprise. Dust and dry leaves swirled thickly in the air. Rutherford covered his mouth with his collar, eyes wide.

Then—

“Peekaboo. Damn it.”

Smack!

Beric was suddenly right in front of him, close enough to touch if he fell. In an instant, his fist shot toward Rutherford’s face—precisely the jaw.

“Beric!”

“I’m fine. Just be quiet. Or I’ll make some water again and splash it on this bastard’s face. If he’s underwater, he can scream all he wants—it won’t reach us. Though, maybe that’d kill him?”

“Of course it would, man. Rutherford’s just a normal human.”

“Ah, a human.”

Crack!

Beric grabbed Rutherford by the hair, pulling his face up to look at him. Once a mage closest to godhood, now fallen to mere mortal status.

And yet, he dared to touch Ian, to touch Beric, to touch Bariel? Beric lightly bit at his lower lip with his fingertips.

“Damn, if I cut this, Ian’s gonna give me hell.”

There was so much Rutherford needed to explain—about the whereabouts of the Vargas royal bloodline that Damon couldn’t uncover, the conditions for return, and more. Above all, as someone directly connected to the underground god, he held a mountain of secrets.

As Rutherford tried to murmur something, Beric tore his own shirt wide open. The only way was to gag him completely.

“That’ll probably make the effect wear off, right? If this keeps up, why bother talking? Huh?”

“…Ah.”

“Yeah. Not listening. Shut up.”

Beric stuffed the torn cloth into Rutherford’s mouth. Since the hallucination was triggered by voice, this should neutralize it.

Rutherford looked at Beric with bloodshot eyes, but there was a smile in his gaze—a storm brewing behind those eyes. Beric found himself staring blankly into them.

Koo-gung! Kwoong!

A cracking sound echoed. The explosion had clearly weakened the cliff. Hale looked around in alarm, but Beric slowly rose as if the world around him was someone else’s concern.

“……”

Before Beric, an old, worn window appeared. Its frame was peeling, letting rainwater seep through the cracks. Then, lightning flashed—splitting the sky—and thunder shook the world as if it might collapse.

Koo-gung!

“Ah.”

Beric immediately recognized the window. It was a fragment of an indelible memory.

The small, shabby home where he lived with his family as a child.

And that day, when the rain poured relentlessly.

“This…”

“Beric! What’s wrong?”

“We’re screwed. This is exactly like back then.”

Back when he fainted after inhaling white powder in Bratz, hallucinating at the same time.

Beric looked back, silently pleading for help, but Hale and the cavern had vanished, replaced by the familiar interior of a cabin. His heart pounded wildly.

“Beric. What’s wrong? Are you scared?”

His mother, tying her red hair back, smiled. Though her face was turned away, the glimpse of her profile was unmistakably familiar.

“The rain’s coming down hard. Father’s late.”

“He’s probably out drinking. Don’t worry.”

“He said he wouldn’t drink today. He went to get some meat.”

“Do you really believe that? After everything?”

“Brother, isn’t Father coming home today? Really?”

Beric found himself repeating the conversation from that day with his family.

His little sister’s voice whispering happily as she fidgeted with her hands, the damp, oppressive air, his mother tidying her hair and setting out a bucket by the window—

Everything unfolded vividly before his eyes.

Bang!

Soon after, his father burst through the door, reeking of alcohol. The sisters hurriedly hid under the bed, and Beric slipped behind the storage shed.

“Oh, you’re home?”

“Where are the kids?”

His father’s eyes were sharp and relentless as he searched for them. Today was a bad day. Either he was short on drinking money or had racked up debts at the gambling den.

On days like this, he’d habitually threaten to sell the children. Last year, his eldest sister was sold at the market. Their mother cried and begged, selling off what little they had to buy her back, but it drained what little remained of their family’s fortune.

“Where are the kids?!”

“They went out on an errand.”

“Are you kidding me? In this weather?”

“Before the rain started, they went out—”

“What time is it now?!”

No way. Today, they had to stay silent and hidden. On any other day, Beric might have slipped out, but the rain was too heavy—there was no way.

Hiding behind the shed, Beric caught his sister’s eyes under the bed through the door crack. Her trembling gaze shone brightly even in the darkness.

Scratch!

Bang! Bang!

The children squeezed their eyes shut. Their mother’s questions about the meat, how they’d been eating barley porridge for days, were cut off. In the crushing despair, the sisters held hands tightly and closed their eyes.

‘Damn it.’

Lightning flashed, casting light through the palm-sized window. A dull sickle hung upside down. It looked like a noose knot, or maybe a hook to pull himself up. Beric reached out, entranced, and gripped it with his small hands.

It was dull, but maybe if he stabbed it into the back of his neck, it would be over. How long must he live hearing his mother’s screams? If only that bastard weren’t here—the cabin had been peaceful just moments ago.

Thump. Thump-thump.

Just as Beric was about to leave the shed—

Footsteps approached from outside, cutting through the rain. His mother moaned in pain, and his father hesitated before moving toward the door.

“Who is it?”

“I came back because I left something behind.”

“From earlier?”

Creak.

Hearing about the item left at the gambling den, his father opened the door, half in doubt. Having nothing to his name, greed moved him.

Thud.

“Ugh—!”

As soon as the door opened, a man stabbed his father in the abdomen with a sword. There was more than one—two men. They were the ones his father owed debts to from the gambling den, and having heard he couldn’t pay, they came to collect in person. Judging by their clothes, they looked like wandering thugs.

“Ahhh!”

“Shh. Hey, this is still a home.”

“You’ve got nothing, so what nerve do you have to pay us back? We’re outsiders. We figured you’d give up and leave after a few days.”

“Let’s see, ma’am. Is the wardrobe over there? We want something worth money. Your husband owes us a lot.”

“Why, why are you doing this? We have nothing. Please, just spare us. I beg you.”

“Hmm. It’s going to be a problem if you don’t have anything to offer.”

“I heard you have some kids, right?”

“No! The children—please, please, no! I’ll do whatever it takes. And they’re not home right now. I swear.”

Their mother begged desperately, hands clasped in pleading, but they showed no mercy and drew their swords.

Shing!

“Mom!”

“No!”

As the younger sister dashed out from under the bed, the little one tried to follow. Beric shouted no, saying he would go instead, and told the little sister to stay hidden.

“Oh? Look at that. The girl’s still young, huh?”

“She’d fetch a good price if we sell her in Hwan.”

“Put my sister down!”

“Ah, a boy looks strong and spirited. You’ll be worth a lot too. You better keep that fierce glare and shout loud even after you’re sold. Rich buyers like their slaves to have some fight in them.”

“Shut up!”

Shing!

“Damn it!”

Beric swung his dull sickle fiercely, charging at them. The men hesitated, stepping back in surprise. The kid was so fierce, they couldn’t easily overpower him barehanded. When one man’s hand was nicked by the blade, they drew their swords.

Thud!

“Hey!”

“Damn.”

One of them stabbed Beric in the side, and the boy collapsed forward, powerless.

“What are you doing? Don’t kill him!”

“I didn’t mean to, damn it.”

“Can’t be helped. Let’s at least save the others. They came from that side, right?”

“Ahhh!”

“Found you. Under the bed.”

“Sis! Sis!”

Beric heard his sisters’ screams faintly as his consciousness blurred. If only he were older, if only he were stronger… he could have protected his mother, his sisters, and himself…

“Fuck.”

Beric lay there, tears streaming down his face, trembling. His limbs felt limp, his insides twisted. Dizzy. So dizzy…

As he closed his eyes, a voice whispered in his ear.

“Beric.”

Again.

“Beric.”

This time, with a warm touch.

“Get up. It’s me, Ian.”

At Ian’s words, Beric’s eyes snapped open. He saw Ian looking down at him. Am I lying down? Why? Oh, so it was Rutherford who stabbed my side. That bastard.

…Did he cut me with Idgallo? There’s no magic left. What’s going on? What about Hale? That guy? Did he run away?

“Ah.”

Beric tried to say something, but Ian gently lowered his eyelids, just like the first time they met at Bratz’s training ground.

“Tears are welling up. Get up when they stop falling.”

Ian said this, turning his head. At the edge of his gaze stood Rutherford, drenched in Beric’s blood, utterly defeated.