Ch.54Raid, Irefi! (1)

Crack!

I flinched!

In the pitch-black night, trampled branches screamed into the void. My heart pounded frantically, fearing the sound might travel miles and reach someone’s ears.

Each time leaves crumbled and undergrowth parted, I shrank back, earning a disapproving glare from those piercing blood-red eyes.

It was Zikharun’s gaze, red as blood.

“Would you please stop looking so anxious, Marquess? It makes me want to abandon this whole operation that you proposed.”

“Ahem!”

“No, no. The Marquess is simply worried about Lady Justitia whom he left at the manor. That must be it.”

“Hmm… that’s partially true, Young Duke.”

I partially agree with Bartlant’s consideration. He then spoke with absolute certainty:

“You needn’t worry about the Lady. After all, Arnel is at the manor.”

“Arnel…? Not Enella?”

That name definitely belonged to the boy who was always trailing after our Miren.

I found his frail first impression puzzling, as it was hard to believe he was a direct descendant of the Chester family like Bartlant.

Seeing my skepticism, Bartlant curled his lips into a grin.

“Your doubt is understandable. For a male of our family, he’s… rather different. But I can assure you, he’s far superior to me from three years ago.”

“Oh? That’s interesting. If he’s such a remarkable person, why…”

Zikharun trailed off mid-question.

‘He probably wanted to ask why he never appeared in the original story.’

I read Zikharun’s unspoken thoughts. Bartlant laughed heartily and continued his boasting.

“Arnel is completely different from me. His battle aura is tiny and his frame isn’t large. But his intelligence? He’s closer to the Justitia Commander than to me.”

The Justitia Commander—meaning Irefi. At the mention, my expression darkened rapidly. The reality still felt surreal.

“He gave up swordsmanship after developing trauma with blades… but with Arnel there, the manor is safe. So please put your mind at ease, Marquess.”

“I must. It’s about time for the real-world event cutscene to begin.”

Zikharun’s red gaze suddenly turned toward me. Before him lay not the dense forest path, but an open vista.

“Could this be…”

“Yes. Just ahead is the boss stage—’The Last Hut of the Destroyer.'”

“Ugh!”

I swallowed nervously. A creeping sense of anxiety lingered in my throat.

‘Up ahead… Irefi is waiting.’

Even in darkness where it’s difficult to see a step ahead, your appearance remains vivid.

Your snow-white hair reaching your waist shines like stars embroidered in the sky.

Eyes like clear lakes capturing the blue sky, skin like white jade. And a frame smaller than I expected…

Now I can see you smiling brightly even with my eyes closed.

I recall how you’re usually prim but sometimes mischievous.

You called me your savior. But I can firmly deny that. Because everything began with you, Irefi.

I’ll tell you that soon.

“Alright, let’s go in!”

◇

As clouds scattered across the night sky, countless stars and the moon were revealed. And there was a woman who seemed to monopolize all that pouring light.

Her snow-white hair, capturing the moon’s luster, and her knight’s uniform defined her.

The fallen silver ceremonial sword embodied her loneliness, symbolizing her situation.

The woman crouched like a child in the womb, sensing everything around her. Surrounded by the now completely cold night air, she endured the darkness.

A gentle breeze rustles through the grass. The wind escapes the forest and tickles her ears, whispering:

Your wait will be rewarded. The time to adjust the fate of destruction approaches.

It whispers this message endlessly.

“Ah…”

She unfolds from her crouched position and raises her head. Beyond the high ground, which could be called a small hill, the forest continues.

Crunch, crunch, crack!

Footsteps that shouldn’t exist. She realized her time of endurance was coming to an end.

Finally, they emerge from the forest.

A large man full of vitality and two men with black hair and red eyes, similar in appearance.

Bartlant, Zikharun, and the savior Nepy.

Two fated connections traversing past and future. And one variable that disrupts causality by barging in.

“Nepy.”

She looked up at them on the hill. More precisely, she stared at her beloved man’s clear red eyes like a target.

Are you seeing me properly? Will you grant my final wish?

Even as she thinks this, she places a hand on her tightening chest. Though there was nothing special there except her pulsing heart.

‘Nepy, I… I actually…’

…

…..

No, in the end, it wouldn’t make any difference.

Fighting is the only option.

The traces of my daily life. The person who saved my reason for living.

If you wish to kill me, I’ll gladly let you. If you can’t, all your everyday life will be destroyed.

“Irefi…”

“The Destroyer has recognized us. Are you ready, Marquess?”

A familiar voice and overwhelmingly powerful energy. Still, her gaze follows only one person. Nepy, with his disheveled uniform and somewhat wicked eyes…

Soon, an incantation carried on the wind reached her ears.

“Spirit of the earth that runs across the land…”

Zikharun’s spirit magic—Roar of the Mad Spirit.

As she recognized it, the earth began to boil. Golden pillars enveloped the world, emitting a radiance more brilliant than starlight.

Kwaaaaaaaa!

It was so beautiful, like the light of salvation, that she felt like surrendering to it.

As she melted into the blinding light, the past flashed before her eyes.

She recalled leisurely cooking at Nepy’s grand mansion. The relaxed, gentle servants smiled kindly at her.

‘It was good. A pure happiness that came like a miracle.’

Nepy.

A love that thoroughly accommodated her, yet grumbled when pushed, but granted her anything. Actually, she found his actions somewhat cute.

He gave her a gentle, blessed daily life. He captured intangible happiness and placed it in her hands.

He let her enjoy the everyday life she wanted to return to, even if it meant selling her soul.

‘If it were truly possible… I wanted to live as ordinary Irefi Justitia… not as the terrible Destroyer.’

Hoping for a miracle, she chants a protective incantation with her cracked voice.

“Holy Memory.”

“Young Duke, now!”

“Uoooooooooh!!!”

Bartlant’s green eyes explosively manifested their presence. His violent battle aura surged limitlessly like an upside-down waterfall.

Boom!

Bartlant’s large frame leaps into the center of the golden pillar. He draws the strange, round and flat weapon from his back and strikes down in one breath.

“Conqueror’s Sword…”

Called Conqueror’s Sword because it resembles a shield. With that much mass combined with immense strength, it’s essentially a battering ram.

“I’ll crush it like this…!”

Kwaaaaaaaa!

As the golden pillar dissipated, the blue cube and the Conqueror’s Sword collided. The impact of the two physical forces created hurricane-like winds that shook the forest.

This was the beginning of the preliminary battle to defeat Irefi.

◇

I already know the outcome of this exchange.

Irefi’s protective ability, Holy Memory, wasn’t an invincible skill that couldn’t be overcome.

While it could infinitely absorb her power and grow stronger, doing so would also cause massive damage to Irefi’s stamina.

Crack, crack!

The power struggle between the Conqueror’s Sword and the cube reaches its conclusion.

“Got iiiiiit!”

“I think not.”

Slash!

A bone-chilling sound of air being cut echoes through the night sky. Bartlant, still suspended in mid-air, had no way to dodge. He was helpless against the invisible slash.

“Hey there, thanks for the assist, Destroyer.”

Clang!

Zikharun had somehow approached and defended against the slash while Bartlant’s feet firmly gripped the ground.

“… Ugh.”

Irefi’s expressionless face contorted with pain before regaining composure. As she rolled her eyes searching for the source of pain, she finally fixed her gaze on Zikharun’s sword.

“Spirit blood… so it can be applied to swords too.”

“This will be different from before. This is reality.”

“…”

Irefi was the first to move.

She rushed fiercely toward Bartlant, who had just regained his stance, evading Zikharun.

A storm blew in Irefi’s wake. The terrifying wind pressure obscured vision, momentarily closing Zikharun’s eyes.

I witnessed an illusion of the world transforming into a sea of sword mountains. It felt as if every blade of grass beneath my feet and every falling star had sharpened to pierce him.

Irefi plunged her sword into the ground and dragged it, towing the earth. A clear gash appeared in the ground as enormous amounts of soil rushed toward Bartlant.

“Haap!”

Bartlant drove his Conqueror’s Sword into the ground, infusing it with overflowing vitality. A green form gradually took the shape of a large shield, gaining physical force.

Shield Castle Form.

One of the reasons why the NPC Bartlant was absolutely necessary. A technique boasting absolute defense as long as his battle aura didn’t run out.

“Well done, Bartlant!”

Before the soil settled, Zikharun pursued Irefi. She responded immediately. Despite impaired vision, she accurately defended against Zikharun’s blade.

Spirit sense.

The innate ability to sense the presence of living beings.

“… Ugh.”

But she let out another groan. She had taken reflective damage from the sword coated with spirit blood.

Zikharun jumped back and laughed dejectedly.

“Haha, I’m relieved.”

“What?”

“The Destroyer at her prime with recovered memories. Honestly, I thought you’d be impregnable. But… you’re definitely weaker than before. So I’m asking you. Please die in your weakened state.”

“…”

Irefi’s expression disappeared under deep shadows. I couldn’t guess what she was thinking.

After a moment, she slowly raised her head.

Her face, bathed in moonlight, was emptiness itself, deeply tinged with regret.

“Single-point focus.”

She raises her ceremonial sword to chest height, bending her arm. The fluttering aura is compressed to the extreme, turning the silver ceremonial sword’s surface the color of a blue lake.

“Rakshasa Pierce.”

At that moment, Irefi thrust her ceremonial sword into the air like a fencing move.

Bang!

The world turned black and white. It seemed as if the air was distorted, twisting Zikharun’s chest area into a circular shape.

The spatial distortion advanced in a straight line like a small-diameter cylindrical model, reaching the forest on the opposite side.

Looking back, there was a line of trees with perfectly round holes punched through them, following the trajectory of the ceremonial sword.

“Oh my, was my provocation too much?”

Zikharun barely dodged, but his forearm was grazed, tearing off skin.

“Bartlant!”

“Damn it, come here.”

Once again, Bartlant shapes a shield with his battle aura. Zikharun quickly pivots and disappears behind the protective barrier of battle aura.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Irefi’s Rakshasa Pierce mercilessly pounds Bartlant’s battle aura. With each impact, the aura barrier distorts, gradually losing its shape.

Crack, crack.

Like the Holy Memory cube, cracks spread progressively. But Irefi’s thrusts showed no mercy. The impacts raised clouds of dust like a storm.

Clang!

An ominously cheerful sound rang out. It was the echo of the battle aura shield shattering into pieces.

Tang!

Realizing the situation, Irefi moved explosively. Her earth-shattering leap produced an explosive sound.

One step, then another. Irefi approached Zikharun and Bartlant’s position in an instant.

This time, she seemed determined to slice through both of them at once with punishing force.

But at that moment, Irefi’s expression twisted strangely. She appeared to be struggling to identify a sense of discomfort at the back of her neck.

“Why isn’t Nepy interven—”

Just as she was about to swing her ceremonial sword, Irefi found the answer to her question.

“Irefi!!!”

Boom!

I dropped in between the two forces—Bartlant and Zikharun on one side, Irefi on the other.

Slash!

Irefi slashed magnificently across my shoulder, cutting my body in chunks. I noticed her expression stained with guilt.

Thanks to this, Irefi’s reaction was delayed, and she was slightly late in retrieving her ceremonial sword. I didn’t miss that opportunity.

Thump.

“Ugh, Nepy?”

“Got you, Irefi.”

Shaaaaa…

I released malice. The disgusting energy turned the silver ceremonial sword black.

I recalled Netionpis’s advice from the training ground where I had to duel Bartlant unfairly.

[This is a useful dark art, so learn it well.]

“I learned it properly, old man!”

Netionpis’s dark art—Ever-Changing Forms.

The abnormal technique that kneads material forms at will begins to corrode her ceremonial sword.

“Kuk!?”

Bulge! Pop!

The ceremonial sword’s shape becomes round and thick. In an instant, the sword’s form disappears completely, becoming a disc that leaves Irefi’s hand.

Now her sword is just a lump of metal, structurally impossible for her to hold.

For the first time, Irefi’s expression filled with confusion.

“Irefi. We really didn’t know each other, did we?”

Despite spending so much time together, I’m an idiot for not noticing you were festering inside.

Conversely, Irefi knows nothing about me either. At least not about the hidden boss Netionpis aspect.

“So I was led on, the whole time.”

“Well…”

I didn’t answer directly, but she was right. I watched from a distance without intervening to stay away from Irefi’s awareness.

Also, Zikharun’s provocation disturbed her composure, making her forget about me, and I soon hid behind Bartlant, merging into a single target.

With her target fixed on one point, Irefi would choose a direct attack for certain elimination. This was my calculation.

The plan worked perfectly, allowing me to slip into Irefi’s range.

Thus, I succeeded in disarming Irefi.

“… Irefi.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not in your normal condition.”

“Ugh…!”

“I’ll take it as an opportunity. Your hesitation beneath the surface, your physical condition. Everything.”

“…”

Under the once violent night sky, silence fell.

I could feel nothing from her silent figure.

I still don’t understand why Irefi is doing this. Or perhaps the will to understand itself is futile.

That’s the nature of malice as an energy. It drives people mad and blurs their essence.

It’s a curse that transforms a woman who should be filled with bright joy into the Destroyer.

“Uh… uh… ah…”

Irefi’s body trembled with a start.

A single teardrop rolled down her cheek from eyes like blue lakes, wetting the undergrowth.

“Nepy.”

She was forcing her cheeks up into a smile.

“You must grant my request, okay?”

Blue, translucent energy creeps in, combining with the black malice to transform into a dark indigo color.

The change began at that point.

Irefi’s snow-white hair turned pitch black, and her eyes captured the early dawn. The energy tangling around her body like thorns transformed into armor, covering her up to her chin.

Although there was no helmet, I was speechless at the familiar sight.

Boss—Terrible Destroyer Irefi.

With only slight differences, it was an infinitely similar appearance. I wanted to grab her and tell her not to do this.

“So Nepy can kill me without hesitation, I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

She smiled a terribly beautiful smile.