Ch. 125 The Saintess and Her Guardian (3)
by Afuhfuihgs
Chapter 125 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (3)
“I should’ve warned them not to approach from the start…”
Gray cursed himself as he sprinted back the way he came—but it was already too late.
The three paladins who had entered the dungeon with him were now being swarmed by the infected investigation team.
Gray swung his sword, trying to save them, but it was futile. Even severed limbs regenerated instantly.
He wanted to tear his return scroll and escape, but if the paladins guarding the entrance met the same fate, he couldn’t abandon them.
First, get outside. Warn the others. Then return to the capital.
It was cruel to leave the bitten paladins behind, but survival came first.
“Not enough blood… Need blood…”
He forced himself to ignore the echoing voices crawling along the dungeon walls.
Infection. Blood. Thirst.
In his thirty-four years, Gray had never heard of a monster like this.
Maybe it was a new breed. Maybe one that had remained hidden until now. A gut feeling told him this was connected to the recent surge in monster aggression.
‘If I make it back, I’ll have to check if other monsters have wounds on their necks too.’
‘Assuming I make it back at all.’
“What kind of hell is this…? All because of that damn brat.”
Gray grumbled half-heartedly, thinking of Cecilia. That troublemaker’s grin—the one that always made him wonder what disaster she’d caused—now felt painfully missed.
‘Maybe I’ll buy her candy when I get back. She’ll whine about being treated like a kid, then eat it anyway.’
Following the markers back to the entrance wasn’t hard. He hadn’t been inside long.
But when he reached the end of the trail, Gray froze.
The entrance—which had been spewing miasma just moments ago—was now sealed shut, as if it had never existed.
A cold laugh seemed to whisper behind him, mocking his trapped state.
Once you enter, you don’t leave alive.
Gray immediately tore his precious return scroll. The parchment crackled, releasing holy energy that wrapped around him.
“……”
He expected to open his eyes to the safety of the Holy Capital.
But when the light faded, nothing had changed.
Still in the dungeon.
Rubbing his eyes, even slapping his cheeks didn’t alter reality.
“Oh, God. I know my faith’s a bit—no, a lot—lacking, but is this really necessary? I did raise a saintess for You. Can’t You cut me some slack?”
When cornered, even the faithless pray. But as always, God remained silent.
“Sir Gray…”
A paladin’s voice called out instead.
Staggering forward, the man’s fangs glinted under the holy light—sharper, deadlier. Unlike the mindless infected earlier, this one still had awareness.
“I’m… so thirsty. What… do I do…?”
“Easy, pal. Can you hold on?”
“The holy energy… is barely keeping me sane… but—ugh—I can’t… Someone’s voice… telling me to drink your blood—!”
Something slithered beneath the wound on his neck, pulsing visibly. He was at his limit.
“Kneel. Draw the holy sigil. Pray for salvation.”
The paladin trembled but obeyed, closing his eyes as he traced the symbol.
Gray’s greatsword, imbued with divine power, cleanly severed his head.
Thud.
The helmeted head hit the ground with a heavy sound.
“Better to die human. At least God will welcome you with open arms.”
The headless body collapsed, lifeless. No regeneration. Gray’s only mercy was a clean death.
Picking up the fallen paladin’s sword, Gray sank into thought.
‘I can’t die here. Not with that brat waiting.’
Without him, no one in the Holy Capital could handle Cecilia.
‘How do I escape?’
Then he remembered an old adventurer’s tale—some dungeons couldn’t be left until the boss was slain.
Back then, he’d dismissed it as exaggeration. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Whether the story was true or not, Gray had to move.
“Blood… Need blood…”
The voices grew louder.
His choices were slim:
Find the end. Hold out until reinforcements arrive. Or pray the guards outside notice something’s wrong.
Slinging his greatsword across his back, Gray gripped the lighter paladin sword and ventured deeper.
Three Days Later
His jerky was gone. His canteen, empty.
“Blood… Ghk—”
“Shut up, will you?”
Gray crushed an infected paladin underfoot, watching as the body crumbled to dust.
That was the last of them.
Over the past three days, he’d learned:
A bite to the neck turned victims bloodthirsty.
Their fangs sharpened unnaturally.
Only holy energy could kill them.
Without blood, they froze like corpses.
Upon death, they turned to dust.
‘Thank God holy energy works. Otherwise, I’d be one of them.’
Pulling out a crudely drawn map on scrap paper, his former return scroll, Gray marked an X over the last cleared area.
Only one place left.
The epicenter of the miasma.
Of course it had to be there.
Dungeons were already dangerous for full parties. Solo was suicide.
But his holy energy reserves were strong, his body unharmed.
For a fleeting moment, he imagined recounting this to Cecilia like some grand adventure.
‘Old man, are you insane!? You disappear for days and come back with that story? As if I’d be happy!’
He could practically hear her screeching. The thought almost made him smile.
Following the map, Gray pressed forward, holy light piercing the darkness.
At the end stood a throne-like chair, where a woman slept, chin resting on her hand.
Her black-and-white military coat was elegant, archaic. Crimson hair spilled like spider silk, pooling on the ground.
The massive horns curling from her head left no doubt—she wasn’t human.
A demon.
Gray swallowed dryly.
Even with his shaky faith, every Holy Kingdom citizen knew of demons.
Horned. Seductive. Enemies of God.
Her pale skin and curves were the exact opposite of Cecilia’s scrawny frame.
If only the brat had half those proportions…
Shaking his head, Gray focused.
The demon’s eyes were closed—perfect for a sneak attack.
Channeling his childhood pickpocket skills, he crept forward.
A shattered coffin nearby confirmed the first team had reached this far.
Once in range, Gray swung his sword with all his might—
“—!”
—only for the demon to catch it effortlessly between two fingers.
“Hmm…”
Eyes darker than her hair flicked open, locking onto Gray.
“An adversary? No… You’re too weak to be his challenger.” She tilted her head. “Your power is… irritating. Yet intriguing. But weak.”
“Tch—!”
No matter how hard he pulled, the blade didn’t budge. Abandoning it, Gray drew his greatsword.
The demon flicked the stolen sword away and rose from her throne, towering over him.
“To disturb my slumber twice… How rude.”
Her presence alone crushed the air, miasma thickening.
A cold smile split her lips, close enough to brush his ear.
“Since you’ve woken me… Entertain me.”
Lucent
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