Ch.150150. For Whom the Sword is Drawn (3)

I looked at the Inquisitor’s wound with blurry eyes. I had brought every medicine available from headquarters and applied it all. The bleeding had barely stopped, and she had recovered some energy from the potions. I replaced the cloth on her wound with a fresh one. The smell of blood. Just when I thought it was finally fading after patients had been discharged from headquarters, it began to permeate the air again, stronger than before.

“[Fortunately, her condition seems to have improved somewhat.]”

“…What exactly happened?”

The Inquisitor was deep in sleep. Besides the stab wound, small injuries were etched across her body like scribbles. Her face was filled with exhaustion. Her limbs were limp, and her priest’s robe was dirty with blood, sweat, and dust. The chest area of her robe, torn by a sword, was exposed. I touched the edge of the fabric.

“[Did the mercenary cut this child down?]”

The mercenary, Aryen Elmione, had cut down the Inquisitors. The mercenary had begun fighting with the remaining Inquisitors, including Bishop Andre, and she had left the battlefield on the bishop’s orders to inform me of this. After telling me this much, the Inquisitor had lost consciousness.

“Why on earth would he…”

The question of why swirled around in my head. The Aryen I knew was a psychopathic cold-blood, but he wasn’t someone who would cut people down and flee without reason. That such a stubborn man who adhered to his own principles would suddenly do something like this. I bit my lip.

No, do I really know anything about him properly?

“[For now, we can only wait for this child to wake up. Don’t make hasty judgments.]”

“…I understand. Still, I think we should contact the palace.”

A sword strike that cut through flesh. Or its aftermath. I tried to imagine Aryen cutting down the bishop. The Inquisitors beside him fall, unable to withstand Aryen’s strength and skill. The bishop holds his own against Aryen for a while but gradually gets cut. Aryen’s sword grazes flesh, and blood and flesh scatter. Those cold eyes, gleaming like a bloodied sword. I looked into Aryen’s eyes and silently asked what had happened.

“Ilroy, I’m coming in.”

The door opened with Daphne Ephiphone’s soft whisper. Eyes full of concern looked at the Inquisitor. Daphne set down a tray with towels, a water bowl, and medicine, then examined the wound.

“Maybe it’s because you used good medicine, but it doesn’t look like it will get infected. She should wake up soon if she rests.”

I nodded without taking my eyes off the Inquisitor.

“What about Marianne?”

“She decided to return urgently to the Holy Nation. With the bishop and Inquisitors missing, there must be major security issues in the Holy Nation.”

Missing. Not a good word. Not knowing ties one’s hands and feet. Where was Aryen heading now? Was Bishop Andre dead, or had he escaped alive? Were all the remaining Inquisitors killed by Aryen, or had they managed to survive on their own?

“Were there still so many demon worshippers left?”

“We don’t know if it’s because of demon worshippers.”

Whether demon worshippers were behind this, or Aryen had betrayed the Inquisitors of his own accord. I bit my lip as I looked at the Inquisitor. Judging by her increasingly irregular breathing, she seemed about to wake up. Her trembling eyelids opened. The Inquisitor took a few deep breaths before turning her head toward me.

“…Where did I leave off?”

Her voice was surprisingly clear for someone who had been unconscious for hours. Her hazy gray eyes looked alternately at me and Daphne before settling on me.

“You said that after returning from battle with the enemy, the mercenary suddenly began cutting you down. You said you escaped on Bishop Andre’s orders and made your way here.”

“…Yes. That’s right. The mercenary.”

The Inquisitor felt for her wound with her hand. She seemed to be trying to recall her memories through the wound. Though the pain must still be severe, she didn’t even blink.

“Were you tracking demon worshippers?”

“Yes. The pursuit team finally reached their core. During the comet incident, when the magic tower was attacked, they exposed a lot.”

With my question as a starting point, the Inquisitor began to unfold her story one by one.

“I was ordered to guard the entrance. The bishop and the mercenary entered first as the vanguard…”

The Inquisitor slightly furrowed her brow.

“And what came out of that room was… a mercenary who somehow seemed different from usual.”

==

“The smell is terrible.”

Bishop Andre muttered as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. The stench of decay was overwhelming. Aryen didn’t breathe deeply. Strong stimuli dull other senses.

“Shouldn’t you be used to it by now, Aryen?”

“This place seems particularly potent. It’s making my head spin.”

Aryen nodded slightly as he answered. The smell of corpses, or festering wounds left untreated. It was a smell that always accompanied apocalyptic cults. Their smell didn’t mix with others. If it were a color, it would be black. Any other smell that entered this air would be assimilated.

“What about the rear?”

The bishop asked, looking back. Inquisitors who had dealt with the demon worshippers were joining one by one. The last to join reported.

“All cleared.”

“Casualties?”

“One dead. Two injured. No other issues.”

The Inquisitors spoke of their deaths so easily. Bishop Andre nodded stoically and looked at the pitch-black cave. Malevolent energy crawled out like insects, strong enough to dim the Inquisitors’ holy artifacts.

“It took long enough.”

“Not really. We’ve cornered them in just a year, when they’ve been deeply rooted throughout the continent for hundreds of years. I’d say it’s unusually fast.”

Bishop Andre drew his dagger. The blade glinted between the torches and holy artifacts.

“We’re going in now. Aryen and I will lead. Half of you guard the entrance, the rest follow us. Be ready to either secure a retreat path or cut it off completely.”

Aryen raised his sword. They say the end is in sight, yet he had gained nothing. Aryen narrowed his eyes as he looked at the bloodstains on his sword. No answers came. Wherever he went, what Aryen sought did not exist. The more this happened, the more frustration built up. The possibilities of salvation shown by the Hero weighed heavily on Aryen’s mind.

“Let’s go. This time, both of us will need to give it our all.”

Embrace.

The darkness.

Aryen raised his sword. His first strike was aimed at the still-living worshippers. Four were cut down in one blow. The worshippers smiled as their necks were severed. The remaining worshippers all died after just four attacks. And waiting at the end was a writhing, formless black energy.

Bishop Andre watched as the black mist flowed into Aryen. It was indescribably ominous. Aryen stood with his eyes rolled back, convulsing. The Inquisitors who had followed the bishop and Aryen raised their holy artifacts in alert.

“-Fall back!!”

The bishop’s shout and Aryen turning around happened simultaneously. His gaze became a blade. A sword wind flew as scars were drawn on the floor. The bodies of Inquisitors who couldn’t dodge in time were cut. Blood droplets scattered following the wind that swept through the corridor.

“Kuk-!”

The dagger broke. The bishop reached into his robe in shock, searching for another dagger. Aryen stood blocking the entrance, his head tilted stiffly, watching the Inquisitors rushing toward the room.

“Don’t come in!”

The Inquisitors stopped in their tracks. Aryen moved. As soon as Aryen’s sword cut down one Inquisitor, Bishop Andre launched himself forward. Golden holy energy left afterimages in the bishop’s path. The bishop’s dagger intercepted Aryen’s sword path.

“-!”

The sword was heavy. The bishop instinctively realized that if he lost his grip on Aryen here, disaster would follow. The Inquisitors didn’t hesitate and lunged at Aryen, each with killing intent. Sensing their bloodlust, Aryen’s eyes flashed as he raised his body.

“Survive…”

Such words leaked from Aryen’s slightly parted lips. An invisible line was drawn in the air. Space creaked and was severed. The limbs of Inquisitors caught between the splitting space were cut off.

“Kill.”

It didn’t stop. The Inquisitors’ blades still rushed toward Aryen, and he turned his body, deflecting, evading, and blocking all their blade tips. For Aryen, defense was also offense. The Inquisitors’ blood sprayed into the air. There was no restraint in his attacks. Realizing this, Bishop Andre decided to unleash his full power.

BOOM-!!

The holy artifact exploded, temporarily blasting Aryen away. No one was unscathed. The bishop forcibly lifted an Inquisitor who had fallen to the floor and grabbed her shoulder. She wasn’t unharmed either, but at least she could move.

“Isila, go to the capital of the Kingdom of Kairos. Report this situation to the Hero.”

“Yes, understood.”

Judgment is swift, and orders are not refused. Bishop Andre watched Isila leave, then turned his head toward Aryen. Aryen’s pitch-black eyes were staring directly at Bishop Andre. Aryen’s lips trembled slightly, forming a faint curve.

“Damn it, Aryen. What the hell are you doing?”

“Bishop, it was all for nothing. For nothing, I tell you.”

“What was for nothing? Get a hold of yourself.”

“I couldn’t find a way. No, the end of the road was just a dead end.”

Aryen launched forward. The bishop threw a holy artifact-infused dagger to try to stop Aryen’s movement, but his speed wasn’t slowed at all.

“-Damn it.”

He drew a new dagger. An ominous energy began to rise from Aryen’s sword. Blood-red. Bishop Andre drew out more holy power. His instinct screamed at him to fight with all his might, with his life on the line.

BOOM-!!

With an explosion of light, Bishop Andre was thrown backward. Thick smoke rose, obscuring everyone. Sparks flew within the smoke. In that brief moment, sword strikes and lives were exchanged dozens of times. Aryen’s sword had no eyes. The bishop kicked the door shut. In the darkness-engulfed room, Aryen’s aura and the bishop’s holy artifact provided light.

“…Aryen, can you hear me?”

“I hear you. I hear you just fine. Bishop, but just because I can hear your words doesn’t mean anything changes. Just as my sword can’t change anything, your words can’t change me.”

Aryen shook his head as he spoke. The red light of his aura from below cast deep shadows on Aryen’s face.

“So possession is such a troublesome affair when it happens to someone like you. Can’t even perform an exorcism. I should have considered that the leader of the demon worshippers might take such a form.”

Snicker, Aryen’s lips curled up. Bishop Andre’s face contorted.

“This is the end of the trail, bishop.”

“Perhaps not.”

The bishop discarded the dagger he was holding and reached into his robe again. Aryen’s eyes changed color at the suddenly altered atmosphere.

“It’s been a while since I’ve shown my full power.”

Two daggers appeared in the bishop’s hands.

“Don’t resent me if you die.”

==

Agnes closed her eyes after hearing the entire story. I carefully observed her expression. Her aura changed subtly with her thoughts. I didn’t rush the queen. I was probably wearing the same troubled expression as her.

“Hero Ilroy.”

After a long silence, Agnes opened her eyes. I recognized a certain determination in her eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Capture the mercenary, Aryen Elmione. If circumstances don’t allow it, kill him. Should you kill him, know that you do so under my orders.”

I bowed my head.

“I will do as Your Majesty commands.”