Ch.481Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

# Tears in the Storm-Swept Desert

Tears fell upon the storm-swept desert.

Heaven’s tears moistened the barren earth, yet no life sprouted.

The living who stood on the parched land looked up to the sky.

And the dead below sang the wailing of ghosts.

## Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Involuntary threats to one’s life are something everyone experiences at least once in their lifetime.

Even in a wretched life stained with contempt and pessimism, the yearning for life is like an instinct of all breathing things. Those who stand at death’s threshold finally come to realize the preciousness of life.

Even if it’s just a miserable extension of life gained through a momentary reprieve.

Therefore.

When the one who presides over death appeared, the anger that seemed to boil up from deep underground was a natural phenomenon.

“The wicked and cunning ones set their filthy feet here once again.”

Leather boots tread upon the earth.

Birth and death are part of the cycle. If there is one who presides over birth, then death too should rightfully be that one’s domain.

Nathaniel looked down into the abyss.

What entered her sight were writhing masses of flesh. Creatures with curved, hard claws embedded in stone, frantically moving their skeletal limbs to climb up through the crevices.

As countless monsters crawled up the walls, an angel standing at the edge of the bridge spread both hands.

Like stream water flowing down a rock face, twin blades descended from her sleeves and coiled into her grasp.

Two daggers rotating around a ring. The sharp silver blades scattered the thick darkness.

The angel who governed natural order signaled the start of battle with her daggers.

-Shraaaaak!

As Nathaniel extended her arm, one dagger sliced through the air.

The sharp blade instantly penetrated a crown, and the hideous mass of flesh fell, pushing away other flesh masses.

A dozen monsters that collided with the dead one were pushed into the air, and soon began falling into the deep abyss.

The monsters watching their flailing comrades raised their heads. And with a thud, three or four daggers embedded in their faces, sending them back to the abyss once more.

“Hmph.”

Nathaniel, watching the scene, snorted.

Like casually picking up and throwing roadside pebbles, the angel tossed daggers one after another. Then, hearing a familiar heavy metallic sound, she paused what she was doing and slightly raised her head.

“What is it, Ramiel?”

Nathaniel’s gaze fell upon crude armor. The knight in plate armor, Ramiel, had somehow approached her side and was speaking to her.

“The devil’s minions have been released.”

“Yes, they have. Thanks to someone.”

Ramiel’s gaze turned toward Nathaniel.

“Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“Then whose responsibility would it be?”

Nathaniel continued speaking without avoiding the gaze directed at her. As if to say speak straight even if your mouth is crooked.

“Have you already forgotten how the seal was made? Did you truly think the pillars supporting the ceiling were mere structures?”

“You would know that better than I. It was none other than you, Nathaniel, who planned and completed the seal of the stone chamber.”

“How many times did I tell you that if the pillars collapse, the ceiling’s seal array cannot be maintained? Have you forgotten even that because you were drunk on sleep for 800 years?”

Why did you do something foolish that broke the seal? That’s what Nathaniel was asking.

To this, Ramiel shrugged and replied.

“You should have made it better. If you had made it sturdy enough to last a thousand years, this wouldn’t have happened, would it?”

“Your dullness is truly remarkable. You never cease to amaze me. How did you become the Burning Sword with that brain of yours?”

“That too, you know well, don’t you? Because you lost to me.”

“…You—”

-Kieeeeek!

The conversation was interrupted by a scream that could tear one’s eardrums. A hell monster that had somehow climbed up the wall was opening its filthy maw wide.

As black, sticky liquid stretched like threads, KWAJIK! A great sword smashed through its teeth and emerged from the back of its head.

Ramiel, who had thrust the greatsword into the monster’s mouth, twisted the handle. The blade that cut through the right side of its face drew a short curve, and before the foul fluid soaking the sword could spill out, the monster’s head fell off.

Seeing Ramiel sever the neck with a single strike, Nathaniel, who was about to say something, held back her words with an irritated voice.

“Let’s argue later. First, let’s deal with those things, Ramiel.”

“As you wish, Nathaniel.”

Ramiel and Nathaniel stood back to back.

And shortly after, the dance of the greatsword and twin daggers began to unfold in the darkness.

*

Gloomy howls echoed through the cavern.

It sounded like the cries of the dead stained with grudges, or screams from hell.

The chills running down one’s spine became more vivid each time the howls drew closer.

Even standing still, the body trembled and the stomach seemed to twist, sometimes creating the urge to cover one’s ears.

The wailing from underground was incomparably eerie.

“Hup.”

As the gauntlet drew a semicircle behind the helmet, a silver strike bisected a monster.

Swordsmanship too fast for the eye to follow unfolded. Ramiel, who killed the monster by tearing it in half at the waist, continued to swing his greatsword to deal with the monsters on either side.

The knight wielded a weapon that ordinary warriors wouldn’t dare handle as if it were part of his own body. Diagonally, from top to bottom, from left to right. Like a passionate dance following a lively rhythm, the greatsword sliced through the minions of hell, splattering flesh.

Crack. The hellhound’s chest was pierced by the greatsword.

Called a hound because it took the form of a dog, and a hellhound because it came from hell—a devil’s minion.

The black blood flowing instead of fresh blood proved it was a cursed being.

The knight who thrust the greatsword into the minion’s chest turned the handle.

Leaving behind the first heart that was pierced with one strike, the greatsword that cut through the wrinkled skin sliced the second heart.

-Kiaaaak!

The moment the second heart was bisected. Like fire touching oil-soaked cloth, the monster’s body began to burn.

“They seem weaker than I remember, perhaps because they’ve just been released from the seal,” said the knight who had slain the demon, without looking back.

“However, there’s a reason these are called hell’s minions. Don’t be careless just because they’re weak. Even the weakest beings in hell are far stronger than you humans on earth. They can easily tear apart an adult.”

Chwarruruk. Six bullets poured onto a soft palm.

“Such basic information—”

Veronica, who carefully grasped the bullets so they wouldn’t spill, completed the loading in the blink of an eye and closed the cylinder.

“I know from experience!”

The barrel engraved with sacred patterns was raised high, and she pulled the trigger without hesitation after taking aim.

Bang! The head of a hellhound leaping through the air disappeared without warning. Only the smoke rising from the muzzle and the revolving cylinder of the revolver hinted at the reason.

A body without a mind is merely an ugly piece of meat.

Veronica avoided the falling corpse by stepping aside.

The fallen meat soon turned black as charcoal. She stomped on it irritably, transforming it into ash and dust, then cocked the hammer of her revolver.

Three bullets were fired in succession. It was right after that when she sent the hellhounds climbing the wall back to their homeland.

Clap, clap, clap! Arkanday applauded the holy woman who had dispatched four hellhounds in the blink of an eye.

“Skill. Very impressive. Technique. Envious.”

“You fight too, man!”

When I scolded him, Arkanday, who had been kicked in the rear, grinned, showing his teeth.

And then, clenching his fist, he blurted out:

“Watching!”

Arkanday immediately swung his raised fist. The moment his fist connected with the body of the charging hellhound, the tattoo extending from his shoulder to the back of his hand began to glow.

Dazzling light flashed as a bursting sound shook the air.

As power exploded from the fist that had dug into the chest, crushing the ribs, black flesh fragments burst in all directions. After smashing the monster to pieces, bones and all, Arkanday began throwing punches and kicks at the hellhounds that followed.

“Hahaha!”

Arkanday’s appearance as he killed the disgusting monsters with single blows was like that of a madman who had escaped from a hospital ward. Considering that he actually walked around shirtless, perhaps he really was insane.

As ash and dust chaotically adorned the air, Ramiel slaughtered several monsters with his greatsword.

The heavy sword cuts flesh and bone like slicing fresh fish into sashimi. As the monster’s body turned to ash and dust, the black blood that had thoroughly soaked the massive blade also fell away like rising sparks.

The angel, gazing at the vanishing hellhound, changed his grip by pushing the handle of the greatsword with his hand.

Ramiel adjusted his grip on the sword so that his right hand, which had been holding the base, was pointing upward, and the massive blade once again mercilessly tore apart the minions of hell.

And beside him stood another angel.

Nathaniel, holding a dagger.

“Do not climb up.”

As Nathaniel twisted her body, daggers drawn from within her cloak were scattered in all directions. The daggers simultaneously pierced the monsters’ heads.

As the monsters climbing the walls helplessly fell underground, the sight of flesh masses dropping in succession was truly spectacular.

As soon as the seal was broken, monsters poured out from underground. To be more precise, they poured upward.

The hell monsters that were released began to climb the walls using their claws and limbs, and we began to prevent them from climbing up.

From a distance: me, Veronica, and Nathaniel.

At close range: Arkanday and Ramiel.

Bullets and daggers shot down the climbing monsters, and when monsters that escaped the fire net reached the bridge, greatswords and fists mercilessly crushed them. Blowing off skulls and cutting bodies, we were each dealing with them in our own way.

But it seems that has now reached its limit.

“It’s overheated!”

The rifle barrel glowed red. A clear sign of overheating.

The operating principle of modern firearms is simple. When fired, the firing pin strikes the back of the bullet, igniting the propellant through the primer, and the projectile is fired.

The high-temperature, high-pressure gas generated in this process rapidly increases the temperature of the barrel. In normal shooting, the possibility of overheating is small, but in urgent combat like this, it’s a different story.

A gun that fires dozens or hundreds of rounds in succession experiences a rapid temperature rise.

Excessive temperature accelerates barrel wear and erosion, shortening its lifespan. It reduces bullet velocity and makes ballistics and muzzle velocity unstable. The problem is that this high temperature can cause malfunctions and, in serious cases, lead to burns and damage.

“Damn it.”

Sure enough, when I touched the barrel cover, I felt a hot sensation. It was hot enough that I would have burned my palm if I had forgotten to wear gloves.

Even proper loading wasn’t happening. After removing the magazine, I pulled the charging handle, but the ammunition firmly stuck between the bolt carrier and the chamber didn’t budge.

I quickly discarded the rifle, drew my pistol, and shouted:

“I can’t use the rifle anymore! Veronica, are you okay over there?”

Veronica, who was stepping on a demon’s head in the distance and pulling the trigger of her revolver held close, replied:

“No!”

For Veronica, who relied on guns as her main weapon, the number of enemies wasn’t much of a problem.

The limited ammunition of her revolver and double-barreled shotgun had never been an issue until now. As Arkanday said, she was quite proficient in shooting, at a level even demons would acknowledge.

However, even the most excellent marksman is no match for sheer numbers.

The revolver that had done its job well against dozens of monsters had now reached the end of its life. The revolver with no bullets left was clamoring for food, striking the empty cylinder with its hammer, much to its owner’s dismay.

I shot and killed several monsters targeting Veronica with my pistol and shouted:

“Use magic bullets!”

“If I try to load those now, I’ll die! How am I supposed to load them one by one at a time like this?”

“Then what should we do?”

“Ah- I don’t know either!”

Veronica swung her revolver like a hammer.

As the handle struck a belly, the fallen monster screamed and raised its upper body. She quickly struck the forehead of the creature that was opening its maw wide in pain.

“The Holy Spirit won’t come when called! Ah, damn! Did something go wrong when I forced it to dissipate earlier?”

She looked around while pounding the skull of a monster that was flailing after having its legs cut off, and was horrified.

“Th-they’re coming from all directions!”

The lantern, the only source of light, illuminated the darkness, and monsters were gathering from the periphery where the light didn’t reach.

Like specters seeking the warmth of the living, the monsters were rushing from all directions with their maws wide open.

“Kwaaaa-!!”

Hearing her scream, Arkanday leaped from his position.

Landing with a thud in the midst of swarming monsters, he began crushing skulls with his fists and legs.

Puk, when his fist struck a jaw, the mouth twisted with a crack.

When his kick, kwak, was thrust into a belly, the outline of bones protruded on the back skin.

As if his entire body were a weapon, Arkanday threw straight punches and kicks.

His appearance as he mindlessly wielded violence was like that of a murderer immersed in blood, and it was an apt description since he was actually covered in blood.

“Stand back!”

Seeing this, Ramiel pushed Arkanday toward us and began to take his place. The expression “pushed” wasn’t appropriate. It was more like he threw him.

After getting Arkanday to safety, the knight swung his greatsword at the approaching monsters.

As the massive blade drew a crescent, flesh fragments and black fluid splashed in all directions, and daggers penetrated through the fragments that rose like a curtain.

“Your impatience to charge into enemy lines remains the same, Ramiel.”

“Nathaniel!”

Ramiel, covered in large and small pieces of flesh and black fluid, turned to look at Nathaniel.

And with a voice that seemed slightly pleased, he asked a question:

“Are you watching my back?”

“No.”

At his blunt assertion, the knight’s pauldrons drooped. For some reason, it was a gesture that conveyed disappointment.

Nathaniel, who had thrust a dagger into a monster’s neck and kicked it away, turned her gaze to where Ramiel was.

“You should watch my back. Protect the humans you brought. I’ll do my job.”

“What are you going to do?”

Veronica looked at Nathaniel with twitching eyebrows. But the angel spared her words, not answering her question.

Instead, she showed it through action.

“Support me.”

When Nathaniel spoke briefly in a commanding tone, Ramiel responded.

He thrust his greatsword into the floor and silently knelt on one knee. Nathaniel ran to him, stepped on his back, and in the blink of an eye, soared into the air.

The angel, who had leaped easily tens of meters, began to fall.

Her body, curled into a ball, rotates as if rolling on the ground.

Nathaniel, falling under the pull of gravity, drew daggers and threw them at the monsters. She was throwing dozens of daggers as if firing a machine gun.

As silver flashes sparkled in the darkness, the cloak that fluttered following her rotating body twisted in a strange direction.

Like wiping a crystal ball with a soft cloth, the cloak swept through the air, and black smoke rippled, creating several round circles.

“Decay is part of the cycle.”

The angel who presided over the cycle murmured.

“No one can escape it.”

The cloak swept the edge of the circle and gently said goodbye with a tap.

As the rippling black smoke condensed. The smoke gathered to each center, forming spheres of various sizes.

Like the beating of a heart, like the hammering of a blacksmith. The spheres began to pulsate at regular intervals.

When the pulsation reached its peak.

-Pak.

The spheres that exploded simultaneously began to spray black smoke in all directions.

The smoke that burst out engulfed the monsters. Like a tsunami covering a sandy beach, like a storm sweeping across a prairie.

The smoke fiercely swept over the minions of hell, and the hellhounds were overwhelmed.

They were helplessly swept away like animals encountering a disaster.

-Keueeeeek….

-Kaaaaaaak….

Pain-filled howls fade away.

It was a signal that those who had risen from hell were returning to their original place.

Nevertheless, quite a few monsters remained.

To this, Veronica complained that it was annoying.

“Wow…. I can’t believe things like that were underground.”

Demanding eyes for an explanation were directed at the angel. Ramiel slightly turned his head to avoid the gaze.

“I did seal quite a lot.”

“……”

“But it’s fortunate that it turned out well, isn’t it?”

At his shameless attitude trying to dismiss the incident, the gazes grew even colder.

Then the knight boldly countered:

“Nathaniel designed the seal.”

“…Ah, is it a matter of design and construction?”

The helmet nods up and down. He was saying to go complain to the construction company, not him.

At his bold attitude, Veronica seemed quite angry. Holding the barrel like a hammer handle, she began to swing her revolver.

“Hey! You call that an explanation! Do you want to die?!”

“Calm down. Calm down…”

“Don’t move! You, you, if you act up, I’ll kill you! Come here right now and put your head—!”

I was struggling to hold Veronica’s waist as she went berserk. Arkanday, who snorted, scratched the back of his head and looked at us with a stupid expression.

Just as the angel’s head was about to be smashed by the holy woman for shamelessly shifting responsibility, Nathaniel, who had descended to the ground, began to reprimand Ramiel with a look of disdain.

“That impudent mouth of yours is still the same. When will you stop making jokes that aren’t even funny?”

“Isn’t it amusing?”

“……”

“Or have a drink.”

The angel gently shook her head and then abruptly turned her gaze. It was a gesture that said she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“How many minions remain?”

“About 60? Less than 100, I think.”

“Tsk.”

Nathaniel clicked her tongue lightly.

“In the past, they would have been annihilated. What a shame.”

Ramiel placed his hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder. And as if to offer comfort, he began to speak:

“When you get old, even going to the bathroom becomes a struggle.”

“Please shut up before I cut out that tongue of yours.”

“Ha!”

A hearty laugh burst out. Ramiel was chuckling to himself for some reason.

No one laughed along. It was a strange joke by anyone’s standards, and not very funny either.

Everyone looked at Ramiel, who had completely ruined the atmosphere with a single word. Except for Nathaniel.

Regardless, he put away his greatsword and began preparing to deal with the remaining enemies.

The greatsword dissolved into the air, and a hammer appeared.

Grasping the handle and pulling it out, he began to count the number of bridges.

“It would be too tight on time to re-establish the seal. I’ll first destroy the five bridges and finally collapse the pillar. That should at least prevent them from coming up to the surface.”

Ramiel pointed specifically at the three of us.

“You should hurry to the surface. I will stay here with Nathaniel and come up in time.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“…Hmm?”

Nathaniel raised her head.

The angel’s gaze turned upward. To that high, dark ceiling.

“Someone is coming.”

No sooner had those words ended.

-Hwararrrrk~!!

Flames rushed in.

The flames that rose like a tsunami spread nimbly down the walls to the underground.

The fire, which precisely avoided us who were close to the pillar, overwhelmed the monsters that were climbing up with their last strength, burning them all.

“Ah.”

Only when I saw the bright red flames did I finally feel relieved.

Because someone emerged from the sparks that popped up in the air.

“Ta-da!”

Camilla, who appeared from the sparks, jumped out with a shout.

Having recognized us at a glance from the magically brightened bridge, she smiled brightly.

“Looks like I made it in time!”

“Hero? And sister?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Francesca, who appeared from the flames, waved her hand toward Veronica. She was holding Camilla’s outstretched hand.

The two who landed gently on the floor looked around widely. Thanks to the monsters falling while burning, the darkness had completely receded, and the acrid smell of burning flesh was stinging our noses.

Francesca silently drew her rune sword. Blue magical threads swayed under her command, with steel awls attached to their ends.

Pababak! As the threads spread out, the awls were thrust into the joints of the bridge and walls.

The alchemist, who had identified the structure of the bridge and found its vulnerabilities, took out an identical awl from her bosom and struck it with a hammer. Then, woong- the awls scattered throughout resonated simultaneously, digging deeper into the structure.

Naturally, the bridge soon began to collapse.

The structure creates tremendous vibrations and sings dissonant notes. Francesca, who had retrieved her tools, looked at everyone.

“It will collapse soon. Let’s evacuate quickly.”

Hero?

Leave it to me.

A small cube floated up from Camilla’s pocket. The Cube.

Like a puzzle being solved, the cube began to rotate on its own. As its speed gradually increased, the cube emitted stronger light.

And finally, when the cube was fully charged.

The feet standing on the collapsing bridge floated up into the air.

Camilla smiles.

“Let’s go! Don’t keep them waiting up there!”

Seven figures began to soar into the sky.

It was the moment when the long journey to the underground ruins bid farewell.