Chapter 84: White Shadow High Priest

-Mastah! There’s no time to waste! That blasphemous worm is starting to suspect me!

Risir’s group frowned, mulling over Dan’Galeon’s words.

Is it really blasphemous?

Even as the devil led its followers to ruin through betrayal and manipulation, it still expected their reverence.

In many ways, Dan’Galeon was the very embodiment of a devil. If not for its repeated demonstrations, they would have never believed its words—the outrageous claim that they had a chance to get rid of a high priest of the White Shadow Order.

Shakan, Maldad, and Valrod exchanged conflicted glances.

“A high priest…”

Had they obtained information about the high priest through ordinary channels, they wouldn’t have had the arrogant thought of defeating him with their own strength.

The weight of that name was enough to make them forget even their contempt for the cultists. How many heroes had lost their lives, ensnared by their wicked schemes?

They weren’t foolish enough to think, “I’m different.” when it came to the high priests of the White Shadow Order.

…But maybe, just this once, it was okay.

To believe, “I’m different.”

To believe, “This time is different.”

After all, those cultists were the ones caught in the wicked scheme, and the very devil they served was guiding the group.

Blasphemous as it was, they almost felt reassured. If a devil’s help was this useful, then maybe being a devil worshiper wasn’t so—

Slap!

That train of thought ended there. Everyone had their own way of shaking off such a dangerous idea—slapping their cheeks, for instance.

And then, they exchanged glances once more.

“We must do it.”

Valrod’s words were met with resolute gazes.

Glancing at them from the side, Risir spoke to Dan’Galeon.

“Tell us everything that could help us defeat the high priest.”

-It just so happens I have some information that will please you, Mastah! First, the bastard worships an entity called Maltael, the Howl That Rends the Wilds!

“Oh, so he’s a black mage?”

Risir’s face brightened as he asked this.

“?”

The others didn’t understand his reaction. Why was it exciting to face a black mage?

-Rest assured! At this moment, Maltael’s seal is firm! The bastard hasn’t fully embraced Maltael’s power yet!

“And that means?”

-To put it in the perspective of those pathetic humans, he is not yet a complete black mage!

The three powerhouses were delighted. Black mages were undeniably one of the most difficult opponents to deal with. The fact that the high priest they were about to face wasn’t a black mage was a huge boon.

Yet Risir reacted with a sigh.

“Ah…”

They couldn’t understand why.

-However, you shouldn’t let your guard down completely!

“What else is there?”

-I can clearly feel a fragment of Maltael from the high priest! Beware of the trick he’s hiding! It will surely be Maltael’s power!

The other three were horrified. Power granted directly by the devil served by a high priest of the White Shadow Order? It would surely prove to be a dire obstacle in the battle ahead.

Yet Risir sounded pleased.

“Ooh…”

They were confused.

Regardless, Valrod stepped up to throw a question at the devil.

“Can you pinpoint his current location?”

-I have never permitted you to ask questions, worm!

“…”

“Dan’Galeon, can you pinpoint his current location?”

-But of course, Mastah! They haven’t mentioned the location of their hideout, so I can’t tell you the exact place like before, but they have my sealing stone! If you follow that energy, you’ll find their hideout! I will guide you, Mastah!

Dan’Galeon’s attitude and words made the three powerhouses uncomfortable.

The devil’s help was essential to defeating the high priest, but it refused to help humans unless Risir was the one speaking to it.

In other words, Risir also needed to participate in this mission.

Shakan looked at him hesitantly.

“Risir…”

They had initially planned to leave Risir out. While his abilities had been proven through recent events, they were suited only for non-combat situations.

And then there was the mysterious elemental—Verdande…chu? (She made sure to enunciate the name.) She could handle a devil, but could it truly aid in the fight against the high priest?

The same question went for Dan’Galeon, still trapped within the sealing stone.

In their opinion, Risir was completely vulnerable in the battle against the high priest. It wasn’t that he was weak. He was even less incompetent.

It was just that the opponent was too strong.

Could they protect him if a problem arose?

It was probably impossible. The battle against the high priest was bound to proceed in a situation where they could barely take care of themselves.

“Are you okay with participating in this plan?”

Risir had already done his part—more than enough, even to excess. They didn’t want to weigh him down any further, least of all with the immense responsibility of hunting the high priest.

The three powerhouses quietly hoped Risir would refuse while convincing Dan’Galeon to help—a likely outcome. After all, who could stay unfazed at the mention of a High Priest of the White Shadow Order?

They were certain Risir understood the danger involved.

“Of course. I have to be with you all until the end.”

Nevertheless, he accepted without hesitation. Not a trace of fear showed on his face. How much courage and resolve did it take to stand so unwavering?

The other three showed a mix of sorrow and admiration in their eyes. Then, with firm nods, they steeled themselves.

They would protect him in this plan. No matter what, they would never let him feel like a burden.

-Master…You must open your eyes…Our enemy, they are close to you…Closer than I am…

High Priest Dranoff realized the truth only after killing his own disciple—they had been dancing in the palm of Dan’Galeon’s hand.

Even now, he couldn’t comprehend it. For what? For whom?

But none of that mattered anymore. He would not bow to that devil’s meddling. The grand plan would proceed as intended, and Maltael would be resurrected. For that, the troublemakers and traitors had to be eliminated.

An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Bondalles. Even with its shattered ceiling, not a single ray of sunlight reached inside, leaving the place steeped in an eerie, unnatural gloom.

The power granted by the entity worshiped by the devil worshiper seeped through every corner, claiming the building as its own. The moment his enemies set foot inside, the warehouse would become a barrier—one that would swallow them whole.

And so, Dranoff met his enemies fully prepared.

Dranoff had planned to greet them with a solemn, “So, you’ve come.” Meanwhile, the three powerhouses were supposed to groan under the weight of his presence and the oppressive energy suffusing the warehouse.

The instant their eyes met, the tension snapped taut.

However…

“Eh? What’s…Oh! Everyone! That thing Dan’Galeon warned us about, it seems to have disappeared! I don’t feel any more anomalous energy from the place! So don’t worry and focus on the battle!”

Complete, utter silence fell…and the tension unraveled as Dranoff blinked in confusion, his gaze drifting aimlessly.

This was a relatively familiar situation for the three powerhouses. Rather than waste time on surprise, they struck all at once.

“Wait…!”

The high priest helplessly lost the initiative.

-As expected of Mastah, I knew it!!! A little devil like Maltael is nothing to you!

With Maltael’s gift suddenly vanishing without a trace and the devil’s nonsensical babbling ringing in his ears, Dranoff struggled to keep his composure… and failed.

The high priest lost control—both of himself and his mana—falling into a state known as mana reflux, a condition typically suffered by novice spellcasters.

It happened mere moments after he had been struck by his enemies.

“Ugh…!”

Forced against the wall, he collapsed to the ground with a groan, his face twisted in anguish.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Seeing Dranoff’s pitiful state, the other three felt an unexpected pang of guilt.

Of course, that didn’t mean they had any intention of waiting for him to pull himself together. There was no mercy for a devil worshiper—especially not when that mercy could turn the tables.

But just as Shakan stepped forward to deliver the final blow—

“Hah, how did things turn out like this?”

A deep sigh cut through them.

“…!”

In that instant, Shakan—who had been holding the front line with Valrod and Maldad’s support—was suddenly sent flying away.

Boom!

The thunderous impact came a beat later, proof that she had been struck by something.

A man with long, white hair stood there, gripping Shakan by the throat as she lay embedded in the wall.

Though Ballod and Maldad moved to intervene…

“Move, and this woman’s neck will snap.”

“…”

“…”

They stepped back silently. As they got a clear look at the intruder, their eyes widened.

Long white hair, an eyepatch covering his left eye, and that overwhelming presence. These three unmistakable traits left no doubt about who he was.

“Rodan…”

Everyone who wielded a sword knew his name. Even those who didn’t knew it just as well.

Among the seven swordmasters of the continent, he was known as ‘Riven Blade’.

“Sorry about this, folks. I’ll have to ask for your understanding. To save my friend, this man needs to get what he wants.”

The man offered an easygoing smile as he tightened his grip on Shakan’s throat.

“Urgh—”

A cracking, precarious sound came from her neck.

“Rodan, what is this? A man of your standing siding with cultists?!”

“Didn’t I tell you? If this man gets what he wants, I can save my friend.”

“Get a hold of yourself! They’re devil worshipers!”

“Oh? So you think that, being a non-cultist, you can help my friend instead?”

“…!”

“Well, why don’t we hear it then.”

Rodan kept talking, completely ignoring their reactions as if to imply, “Do you think I don’t know that already?”

Valrod and Maldad’s expressions darkened.

“Ugh…!”

Shakan’s face also darkened, despite her labored breathing. She realized that Rodan would never let them leave this place alive.

After all, the state of the friend he mentioned was…

“I’ll help!”

Risir suddenly raised his hand, urgently calling out.

“Without any conditions! And I’ll do a cleaner job of it…!”

He sounded like a merchant trying to steal a neighboring trader’s customer.

“…Hah.”

Rodan laughed incredulously, his friendly smile tinged with subtle anger.

The swordmaster dismissed the young mage’s words as a desperate, poorly thought-out attempt to escape the situation.

If a greenhorn like that could solve this, why would he ever have turned to devil worshipers for help?

The problem he faced could only be solved with the aid of a devil worshiper like Dranoff and—

-You lowly human! You’d best not dare judge his great power!!! Remember that I, the Scorching Black Flame Dan’Galeon, am watching you!!!

“…”