Ch.227227. Peter’s Demon Sword (2)

The black sword was deeply embedded in what appeared to be an altar-like structure that had caught Peter’s eye.

The stone altar was engraved with markings that anyone would recognize as religious symbols, and the sword stuck in it looked far from an ordinary weapon.

No, it rather seemed as if it had been sealed away because it was too dangerous.

The sword, which appeared to be in the style of a standard longsword, had its surface completely wrapped in what looked like bandages. Upon closer inspection, even these wrappings showed signs of being extraordinary.

The surface was meticulously inscribed with characters unknown to Peter, seemingly written in gold thread, and from these wrappings emanated a subtle but unmistakably divine power.

Over these bandage-like wrappings, mysterious black chains were wound around the sword, secured by what looked like some kind of lock—clearly part of the sealing mechanism.

But beyond these facts, there was another reason why Peter considered this sword dangerous.

It was the ominous magical energy seeping out from the sword.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo.

Not only did it stimulate primal human instincts to induce fear, but Peter recognized its danger when he realized the sword was subtly enticing him.

The ominous magical energy from the sword created a strange sense of intimacy, and beyond preventing one’s gaze from leaving it, it evoked certain desires.

A strange longing, similar to the instinctual desire to grab, draw, and swing the sword.

It was obvious to anyone that the sealed sword was attempting to enthrall those around it, despite its heavily sealed state.

Naturally, Peter shook his head and desperately tried to shake off the temptation. Then, struck by an ominous thought, he urgently turned his gaze toward the debris—

“—Grrrrrrrr.”

‘…Damn it.’

Peter saw the armored bear, which had just regained consciousness and was trying to free itself from the debris.

In this critical moment, Peter wondered:

‘Could he possibly defeat this mid-level magical beast, the armored bear?’

Judging coldly, it was absolutely impossible.

His entire body felt somewhat creaky from the impact of the fall, and the longsword at his waist had shattered completely, leaving him without a weapon.

Meanwhile, although the armored bear was momentarily immobilized under the debris, its body showed no significant injuries.

To be frank, even if the bear were defenseless, no amount of sword swinging would leave a scratch on it.

Peter was now, in a different sense, living on borrowed time.

Therefore, Peter, wearing chain mail and several plate armor parts, was about to draw his shattered sword in despair, intending to at least put up a final resistance before dying—

“—Ugh, urgh.”

At that moment, Peter’s eyes caught sight of Laila, trapped under the debris and groaning in pain.

And—after that, Peter moved without even being conscious of what was happening.

Laila, not Laila.

His beloved, who had walked the path of clergy solely for herself and even kicked away all authority to leave the order—she was going to die here, now, because of some stupid bear?

Such a thing, such a thing must never happen.

So without a moment’s hesitation, Peter approached the altar and reached for the sword’s hilt—

What happened next felt like a scene from a dream, even to Peter himself.

The moment Peter grasped the hilt wrapped in bandages instead of leather straps,

an enormous amount of magical energy and power began to overflow into his body.

This wasn’t happening because the sword had any particular intention, but rather as a kind of natural phenomenon occurring because Peter’s capacity was too low compared to the energy within the sword.

After what was only a few seconds but felt like hours to Peter.

Clink.

Realizing that energy had taken a specific form over his body and was taking control, Peter raised the sealed sword above his head, paying no attention to appearances.

[Ha, hahahahahahaha───!!]

Despite being undoubtedly sealed, tremendous energy radiated from the sword, and Peter thought he heard laughter of joy echoing from somewhere as he lunged forward and brought the sword down───

───Slash─BOOOOM!!!

With a thunderous sound, the magical power extending from the sealed demon sword split the ground ahead in half, beyond the armored bear.

It was truly a remarkable achievement, but the state of Peter, who had accomplished this feat, was far from fine.

[Excellent, excellent! Ah····this pleasure of slaughter!!]

A voice that gave him a headache just from hearing it muttered something in his head, while his limbs trembled and his body creaked from the aftermath of the tremendous attack.

Moreover, the overwhelming sense of exhaustion from having all his magical energy drained was more than enough to gradually blur Peter’s consciousness······.

───Thud!

Finally, with the last image in his eyes being what looked like the sword burrowing into his right hand, Peter completely lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.

※ ※ ※

‘······Where am I?’

When Peter regained consciousness, he found himself in an unknown space.

Everything in sight was so black that he couldn’t distinguish the horizon, yet despite having no lighting, the interior was somehow bright enough that visibility wasn’t an issue.

In this vast expanse of land where the floor could barely be distinguished by the thin layer of water covering it—a space so bizarre that one might question whether it was even part of reality.

[You’ve finally come, my lord.]

‘Is that······me?’

Turning his head at the familiar yet unfamiliar voice from behind, Peter encountered ‘someone’ who was like a mirror reflecting himself.

Though the appearance seemed identical to his own in every way, there was one crucial difference between Peter and the being before his eyes.

The figure before him was completely stained black, with only a vague outline visible.

And despite this, the expression that could be made out through the red-stained eyes and mouth appeared to be a villainous smile, perhaps due to the sharp gaze.

“······You. Are you some kind of demon sealed in that sword?”

As soon as Peter, having immediately grasped the situation, threw this sharp question at him,

the black Peter pulled his mouth corners up even further and spoke with mockery.

[Correct! I thought you were a fool, but I see my lord can use his head somewhat?]

Peter, wary of the black figure whose facial expressions were impossible to read due to the shadows, flinched when it suddenly approached.

[Oh, and if you call me a demon one more time, I’ll just kill you. Understood?]

“······Fine.”

The black Peter made a truly spine-chilling, bizarre expression, then after speaking those words, he distanced himself again and returned to his wicked smile as he addressed Peter.

[Now, you must have many questions, but I’ll tell you a few things. Peter. This place is the world inside your mind, and I am—that cursed sword you drew.]

As the black Peter created an atmosphere by drawing out the sealed cursed sword from before, Peter, feeling somewhat perplexed, suddenly realized there was something questionable in the black Peter’s words.

“·····If this is inside my mind, why are you here?”

So Peter asked this without expecting any explanation from the black Peter.

But rather, the black Peter smiled wickedly as if he had been waiting for this question and opened his mouth.

[Oh my. What, don’t you remember? After you freed me from that damned seal, you saw with your own eyes my true form burrowing into your flesh. Or are you in denial of reality?]

Only then did Peter belatedly recall the situation just before he lost consciousness.

The image of the sealed sword in his right hand slowly seeping into his right hand.

[Well then····given your mentality, you probably won’t agree, but it’s my duty to ask.

Do you······desire power?]

“······I don’t need power from someone as creepy as you.”

Recalling the demon sword’s consciousness that had rampaged about enjoying slaughter while cutting down the armored bear, Peter denied this without hesitation, and in response, the black Peter—the consciousness of the demon sword—smiled wickedly as if finding him pathetic and spoke.

[Well, fine. Let’s see how long you can keep refusing my offer.]

With those final words, Peter suddenly felt his body floating away from this space, accompanied by sobbing sounds····.

[Remember, Peter! My name is Dukbing! Call my name, and I’ll lend you power whenever you want!]

The voice of the demon sword Dukbing, cackling and mocking Peter, grew fainter, and after a sensation of floating enveloped his entire body───

“—ter! Peter! Wake up, Peter!”

“······Ugh, ugh····Laila·······.”

Having regained consciousness, Peter could finally grasp the situation as he saw the tearful Laila.