Ch. 127 🔒 The Saintess and Her Guardian (5)
by Afuhfuihgs
Chapter 127 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (5)
Gray’s eyes sharpened as he assessed the situation.
“They say you can survive a witch’s den if you keep your wits about you…”
The demon’s fingers gripping his divine energy-infused sword were burning—proof that his attacks weren’t completely ineffective.
But if he poured any more divine energy into offense, he’d have nothing left to shield himself from the miasma.
Attack or defend?
He had to choose.
And honestly, he wasn’t even sure he still had the option to attack.
“To stand before me and still let your mind wander… I wonder what color your blood is.”
The demon’s fangs glinted as she spoke, eyeing him like prey. Gray had no doubt the first investigation team had made it this far—only to be bitten just like this.
‘No matter what happens, I can’t let those fangs near my neck.’
A head-on clash was hopeless. The sheer strength in those two fingers holding his sword already surpassed him.
First, he needed to create an opening. If she was intelligent enough to converse, maybe he could talk his way out.
“Sorry for attacking first. Got a kid to feed, y’know? Any chance you could pretend you didn’t see me? I’ll keep quiet about the whole ‘demon living here’ thing. Hell, I’ll even sing you a lullaby if you wanna go back to sleep. Got pretty good at it putting the brat to bed.”
Even he had to admit that was shameless.
But to his surprise, the demon’s lips curled in amusement.
“How entertaining. Not only do you stand unshaken before me, but you have the gall to jest as well. In the demon realm, only the Black Knight and the Demon King himself have ever dared such audacity.”
“Half of that was sincere, actually…”
“No matter. I won’t kill you. I’ve rested long enough—it’s time to move.”
‘Wait, I was trying to buy time, not motivate her…!’
The demon withdrew blood from her wounded fingers. The crimson droplets twisted like living things, morphing into a vicious trident.
With a casual swing, she cleanly sliced through the throne’s backrest.
Gray swallowed hard. No armor or shield would stand against that.
“But first… entertain me. Impress me, and I might let you live.”
She crouched low, miasma swirling around her like a spider’s web, her crimson hair fanning out like threads.
The way her body curved—the gravity-defying swell of her chest, the long, lethal lines of her legs—was hypnotic.
If not for the horns and fangs, Gray might’ve flirted. But his libido had long since withered into middle-aged apathy.
If only Cecilia would grow up half as stunning…
The thought had barely formed when the demon appeared before him, silent as death.
“To daydream before me… Do you have ten lives to spare?”
“—!”
Her trident flashed toward his forehead—
—only to be deflected at the last second by a surge of divine energy.
His body had reacted before his eyes could.
Still, the glancing strike tore through his ear. A small price for creating an opening.
Highborn types like her hate being ignored.
A lesson from his mercenary days. And demons, it seemed, were no exception.
“Tch. An opening—!”
Long weapons had reach but took time to recover. Gray lunged, greatsword blazing with divine light, aiming to cleave her in two.
For a split second, their eyes met.
She smirked, as if amused by a child’s antics, leaving herself wide open.
She could dodge. Block. Counter. But she’s not even trying.
Arrogance or trap, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t waste this chance.
Pouring everything into his blade, he struck—
—and the demon split at the waist, a geyser of black blood erupting.
But Gray couldn’t relax.
Her smirk never faded.
“Guh—!”
Miasma exploded from her severed halves, forcing him back. His hand, grazed by the energy, was already rotting. He barely managed to stem the decay with divine power, but his fingertips had gone numb.
“The power of a human god… How intriguing. To wound me…”
She pressed her halves back together, admiring the damage like a connoisseur sampling fine wine.
“Could you at least pretend it hurt? I put my back into that.”
“It tickled. But I’ve no patience for theatrics.”
Gray’s sweat turned cold.
If even a clean hit did nothing… how could he win? Maybe with the entire paladin order at his back—but alone?
“Still, I won’t kill you yet. I’d like to… experiment with that power. Wouldn’t want the Black Knight caught off guard by it.”
Black Knight?
She’d mentioned that name before. Someone important to her, clearly—but Gray had never heard of any “Black Knight.”
At least she wasn’t killing him yet.
But the grotesque smile stretching her lips made him instinctively step back.
“Ghk—!”
Five brutal impacts later, Gray slammed into the wall, coughing blood. Before he could recover, the demon’s trident—moving on its own like a living serpent—shattered the stone where he’d stood.
“Haaah. No more witty remarks? Your mouth was more entertaining than your fleeing.”
Gray had no breath left to answer.
The blood-forged trident pursued him relentlessly. His greatsword had shattered long ago; all he could do was dodge.
His body was a canvas of gashes. Every ounce of divine energy went to staving off the miasma’s corruption.
Now, even standing was too much. His legs gave out.
“If this is all the power your god grants… then you’re not worth sparing. Die.”
Her curiosity spent, she advanced, trident in hand. Each step brought death closer.
“Wait.”
“What? More last words?”
As the trident neared his throat, Gray spoke without thinking—
“Just so you know… I’ve always had a thing for tall, voluptuous women. If you weren’t a demon, I’d have confessed by now.”
“……”
He hadn’t flirted since adopting Cecilia. Why now, of all times?
Maybe some desperate hope it would save him.
Or maybe some primal instinct before death.
‘…What’ll happen to the brat?’
Worse than dying was imagining Cecilia alone in the capital. Too stubborn, too reckless, too small to survive without him.
The Church’s patience wouldn’t last forever.
He’d wanted to see her grow up…
Closing his eyes, Gray braced for the end—
—but death never came.
When he looked again, the demon’s pale cheeks were tinged pink.
“Ahem. Well… I am… exceptionally alluring after all.”
‘…It worked?!’
“But my heart already belongs to another. Still, I’ll make you my thrall. You may spend eternity praising my beauty.”
She withdrew the trident and leaned in, fangs bared.
Thrall? He didn’t know the term, but he knew what came next.
A bite to the neck.
If he let her… would he live?
Could he still return to Cecilia?
Not that he had a choice.
“Just… go easy, yeah? I’m sensitive to mosquito bi—Ghk!”
Chomp.
Her fangs sank deep.
He felt his blood drain—and something else slithering into his veins.
A vile, invasive sensation, as if his soul itself were being tainted.
‘I want to live.’
‘I can’t die yet…!’
Teeth gritted, he endured the pain threatening to drown him.
In his fading vision, the demon’s crimson hair swayed like a bloody tide.
Lucent
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