Ch.273Entry (4)

“….Sigh.”

The shock of encountering a once-familiar acquaintance in the worst possible way was momentary. Having somehow regained my composure, I calmly observed the enemy before me.

The enemy leader, Delil Fantrien, was accompanied by twelve twisted knights as his guards.

While it was certain that all of them had been mid-tier warriors in life, I had doubts about whether they had all truly been knights.

Of course, regardless of such details, these twisted knights appeared to be formidable enemies.

Their full-body armor… in such deep purple and green that it appeared almost black, was fundamentally distorted into grotesque shapes, with pointed designs and “mutations” protruding from various places creating a striking appearance.

The boundaries between flesh and metal had disappeared and fused together at minimum, and mouths filled with sharp teeth had grown on the plate armor, or ivory-like spines or bull-like horns protruded from the helmet.

Of course, even the helmets with these horns were in such a state that they could hardly be called intact, even as a figure of speech.

Eyes like those of insects or spiders grew where they shouldn’t be, mask parts fused with mouths to form monstrous appearances, and in some cases, flesh seemed to be reversely eroding outward through the armor.

And the common trait among these horrific beings was that each wielded different “Demon Weapons,” created either by processing demons into weapons or by having demonic essences possess the weapons.

These demonic weapons basically grant their users the power of the demons they’re made from, making them powerful armaments, but in return, they are dangerous devil blades that constantly seek to seize the body or dominate their host.

Thanks to this, these knights—each with the strength of two mid-tier warriors—numbered twelve… no, twelve corpses.

So while there were twelve entities with combat power comparable to at least upper mid-tier beings…

‘…Sir Cobain.’

I was looking with mixed emotions at a past connection I couldn’t shake off no matter how hard I tried.

An acquaintance with whom I had built a relationship after personally conducting his initiation ceremony, now twisted beyond recognition, wielding the sword he once proudly showed off as a gift from his daughter… now transformed into a Demon Weapon.

While somehow suppressing emotions that made me feel like my teeth would grind themselves away, I firmly gripped my longsword with full strength and glared at the “enemy.”

Yes, that’s right. There was an “enemy.” My nemesis, my sworn foe, an absolute evil.

Delil Fantrien, branch manager of the Colland Adventurers’ Guild. The fundamental culprit behind this entire situation… or something resembling a human.

The being guarded by those twelve twisted knights was now openly displaying his allegiance as a follower of “Gluttony,” no longer even attempting to hide it, wearing regalia that proclaimed it to the world.

Plate armor painted in deep purple that glowed softly, and between those purple plate parts… dark green flashes of light emanating outward.

Sharp, shadow-dark decorative elements adorned various parts of the armor, while symbols explicitly representing “Gluttony” were positioned all over the body.

The banner-like flag held in one hand was closer to a spear with a flag attached than an actual military standard, and the body was also covered with Gluttony’s insignias, as if deliberately displaying them.

What made me even more wary was the evil charisma enveloping this entity. Though different in direction, it was ultimately a special mental ability regarded as a form of majesty.

But what ultimately drew my attention was the hungry green eyes he possessed. Eyes that were no different from the concentration of endless hunger and starvation focused into a single point.

The green light leaking through the visor of the helmet was piercing, and the inexplicable collection of hatred induced nausea.

The indescribable intuitive impulse I felt upon encountering those malevolently green eyes was probably because they were the source of the brainwashing ability that had caused this entire situation.

And just as I was about to openly display my hatred toward that evil, and my subordinates were about to follow suit after naturally reading my hostility—

“…It’s quite pleasant to meet you in person like this.”

“What nonsense is this?”

Despite my obvious displeasure at this garbage suddenly acting familiar with me, the being that appeared to be Delil Fantrien moved as if removing his helmet and throwing it to the ground—

“—Huh?”

The face that emerged from inside the helmet. Upon seeing it, I couldn’t help but vocalize my bewilderment, and this reaction was by no means limited to just me.

“That face is…?”

“…Do we look alike?”

The cause was a face that bizarrely resembled mine. And it resembled me in a slightly different way than my father did; specifically, he possessed most of the traits I had inherited from my maternal line.

It seemed too similar to think it was changed through some blessing, overlapping perfectly with a portrait I had seen once before, and the source of the uncomfortable feeling from that face was no different from encountering something similar.

And, as if he had anticipated our reaction, he raised the corner of his mouth into a smirk and…

“It’s good to see you, my… brother not of blood.”

He dropped that bombshell with complete composure.

※ ※ ※

After he opened his mouth in that way, as if trying to drag me down to hell with him, my reaction was, naturally, anger and denial.

“What nonsense is that—!! How dare you insult my parents!”

Having any proven connection with that thing would bring no benefit, and at best would only add another political weakness—what good would come of that?

Moreover, since these cultists often stir up internal strife with their unnecessary schemes, Corin naturally reacted as if she had heard my words and dismissed the suspicion.

Even without demonic power, this fantasy world has countless techniques for changing one’s appearance, and using these, attempts to transform his appearance and disrupt internal politics would be easily possible.

Meanwhile, Hannah… she seemed to have noticed something, but didn’t show it outwardly, secretly tending to her nails.

‘…Brothers, huh.’

And in truth, I felt the same way inside.

What I felt was a spiritual familiarity of a different direction. Unlike the familial closeness I had only ever felt toward my father, this spiritual familiarity came with an unpleasant sense of dissonance, and its direction was undeniably bizarre.

Adding to these circumstances, considering my mother who had exhausted all her strength giving birth to me, this talk of brotherhood was most likely…

“…So that’s it. I see. So your father—”

“—You’ve figured it out, I see.”

Just as my mother was actually “Gluttony” who had stolen a human body, his father, who had committed adultery with the wife of the head of the Fantrien family, also had some deep connection to “Gluttony.”

So strictly speaking, he was both my step-brother and half-brother… a blood relation in the spiritual sense.

However, considering that the minions of “Gluttony” consistently described me as the legitimate son and only child, it’s highly likely that this Delil Fantrien isn’t as high-ranking as I am.

If he had truly been placed in the same position as me and had accepted “Gluttony’s” favor (or rather, malice) and fallen to become a cultist, possessing only that level of power would be abnormal.

The position of a demon lord’s legitimate child or offspring exists at a much higher level than one might think, so if such a being willingly accepted power, they would appear no different from a deity with physical form.

And, as if sensing my gaze, that creature spoke.

“That’s quite a disrespectful reaction to show your older brother, you incompetent little sibling.”

“…You speak such strange nonsense.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. In the end, I will be the victor.”

His estimated level: the boundary between high and mid-tier. With strength that no one could dismiss, he sneered at me with full force, looking at me with eyes mixed with extremely complex emotions—

“—Don’t look into his eyes!!!”

This was a warning. A warning more intense than anything else. As my desperate message was conveyed and my subordinates averted their gaze, I looked at him and quietly opened my mouth.

“Soul absorption through eye contact… and the ability to control the empty shells left behind? …How many souls have you absorbed and used as nourishment?”

“A foolish question, brother. Do you remember how many loaves of bread you’ve eaten in your life?”

This referred to the soul absorption ability he possessed—occupying the same position as my special ability.