Ch.584Tragic Accident

The Knight of Ruin pondered what he should do as he turned his rotting brain matter.

Originally, he had planned to kill whoever stole the fire rune if they proved weaker than expected, punishing them for ruining the Twilight Plan, and then steal both the rune and their soul.

With the dark mana corruption deepening and his mission—the very thing that had been barely maintaining his sense of self—now shattered into ruins, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last even if he returned with the stolen fire rune…

Still, he believed it was better than leaving the Twilight Rune in the hands of someone unworthy.

“What’s this? Your movements have slowed! Has a wraith like you actually gotten tired?”

“Gryaaaa!”

However, his opponent possessed skills and potential too valuable to simply kill. In fact, it was questionable whether he could kill her at all.

If not for her divine power, he would have pressed the attack using his immortal body, but against someone wielding divine power, his immortality meant nothing.

The thread of his contract with Bellona, the goddess of death, had grown perilously thin—something must have happened to her.

Unlike in the past, it was now impossible for him to withstand attacks infused with divine power.

Moreover, even the blue-silver greatsword the woman wielded seemed to be forged with divine power, carrying the ability to sever the blessings of other gods.

‘…She still falls far short compared to the demigods of old… but I see potential.’

In the end, the dead man chose to place his trust in this woman. With her talent, he believed she could someday surpass even the demigods.

At the very least, she seemed better than himself—a corpse that could no longer elevate beyond its former living state and was deteriorating more with each passing moment.

…Though even with his fading consciousness, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat indignant about it.

—-

Having changed his purpose from killing to succession, the dead man erased his killing intent and began observing his opponent’s fighting style more carefully.

‘Converting two types of blessings into physical destructive power… the other humans did this too. Is this the standard combat method of this era?’

Unlike the knights of his era, who fought using the power of runes and elevated themselves by destroying enemies to engrave more runes into their souls, the knights of this era fought by transforming mysterious divine blessings into their own power.

In his time, there had been clergy who borrowed divine power to fight, but this was a different method entirely, making it quite fascinating to the dead man.

Unlike runic power, which absorbed mana from the atmosphere, this method consumed the blessing energy residing in one’s soul, meaning the fighter grew progressively weaker as battles dragged on…

‘But its power and versatility surpass ordinary runes.’

A power that ordinary runes couldn’t match. Without special runes created through countless blood sacrifices, such power would be impossible to achieve.

The dead man himself possessed several runes, but except for the Twilight Rune, all would be blocked by a single strike from his opponent.

“How about this!”

As Haschal stomped the ground roughly, her shadow stretched long, and countless crimson spikes erupted from it.

This too was something that would require combining at least three runes to achieve a similar effect.

“Hagalaz!”

The dead man drew upon some power from the Twilight Rune and thrust his sword into the ground to defend. The blood-red spikes approaching him were caught in the collapse and burst apart.

The blue-silver slash that followed came at an incomprehensibly fast speed, forcing the dead man to use all his strength just to dodge rather than counter.

“Grrrr!”

The dead man rolled backward, barely avoiding the Defying Fate blade aimed at his neck. He wasn’t completely successful—a chunk of his shoulder armor was sliced off.

‘…A slash where power and speed aren’t proportional. Time-based power? Impressive. Even among demigods, those who could manipulate time were rare.’

Though it was a crisis that could have resulted in instant death, the dead man’s thoughts never ceased.

His body had already died once. With his mission—which he had protected even as he became undead—now collapsed, there was no reason to fear for his life anymore.

Only a quiet desire remained: to see the full extent of the woman’s power, the woman he had decided to trust.

‘Come to think of it, she doesn’t use runic power at all… could it be she doesn’t know how?’

Different languages meant significant cultural differences as well. What had been common knowledge in his era—the use of runes—might have become forgotten knowledge after thousands of years. That was the dead man’s reasoning.

The reality was slightly different.

Haschal could use the fire rune if she wanted to. Not in the normal way, but by forcibly injecting karma of murder instead of mana to activate it.

The reason Haschal wasn’t using karma transformation was simply a matter of efficiency.

Rurik had already demonstrated that using karma transformation against an enemy who could regenerate self-inflicted wounds was inefficient. But the dead man had no way of knowing this.

‘If she doesn’t know how to use it… I can simply teach her.’

Having made his decision, the dead man swung his sword widely to create distance.

It was a reckless move that immediately resulted in his side being deeply cut by a counterattack, but it wasn’t a fatal wound, so it didn’t matter to him.

“Sjáðu (Behold). Eftirmaður (Successor).”

His sword scraped the ground, carving an angular mark.

[ ᚲ ]

After engraving the rune, the dead man immediately dodged Haschal’s approaching sword swing by retreating a few more steps, and when her foot touched the mark—

“Kenaz (Fire).”

The engraving erupted into a pillar of flame.

======[ Haschal ]======

A pillar of fire suddenly burst from beneath my feet. Like a moth diving into a bonfire, I was engulfed by the upward fountain of flames. I was like an infantry soldier who had stepped on a landmine.

“Uwah?!”

Hot…! No, it’s not hot. I reflexively backed away with an embarrassing scream, but then I remembered that I couldn’t be harmed by flames.

Since the fire mark was engraved on my wrist, any flames that engulfed me would be absorbed by the mark rather than burning me.

-Whoosh…!

This time was no different. The flames that clung to my body couldn’t even burn my skin, gradually subsiding and leaving only warmth behind.

…If I had rolled on the ground trying to extinguish the flames, I would have made a complete fool of myself in front of Leonore and Lena.

“What a useless trick.”

I cleared my throat to hide my embarrassment and corrected my posture. It was truly a meaningless attack. No, it was actually helpful to me.

Thanks to the monster attacking me with fire magic, I finally learned the activation word for the mark that I hadn’t understood until now.

Clearly, he said Kena… Kenaz, was it? Though the intonation was a bit different from the Imperial language, it didn’t seem difficult to pronounce.

Let me try it.

I lowered my stance, pulled Durandal back, and extended my left hand toward the Knight of Ruin who was charging at me with his sword. I imagined flames spewing from my fingertips.

And then.

“…Huh?”

In the next moment, I faced an unexpected drawback of the mark that I hadn’t anticipated.

The fire mark only protected against flames trying to burn the flesh, but had no concern for damage to anything other than the body.

The flames that shot upward from below didn’t just pass over my body.

– Rustle.

The sound of cloth and leather sliding against skin. Clothes half-burned by the flames slid down like a snake shedding its skin. Both top and bottom.

Although my chest covering and pants were made from Rurik’s leather and quickly regenerated where they had been severed, the fallen fabric didn’t defy gravity and rise back up.

In other words, I ended up looking like some exhibitionist with my chest covering hanging at my hips and my pants and underwear pulled down below my knees!

…I would have looked less provocative completely naked than in this state.

“What the fuck…!”

My thoughts froze for a moment. My cheeks burned red with the sudden full exposure.

But as truly awful as the situation was, I wasn’t given the opportunity to pull my clothes back up.

“Grr…rrrk?”

With the Knight of Ruin’s blade approaching right before my eyes, I couldn’t leisurely pull up my top and pants.

No, I actually needed to take the pants off completely. My legs were trapped in the pant legs like they were in shackles.

Activate Defying Fate…! No, too late.

I have no choice but to dodge…!

With no other option, feeling like I was drinking poison, I pulled one leg free from the pant leg and began a fight that would be eternally remembered by all who witnessed it.

“You son of a bitch!”

This is really fucked up.

At least give me time to get dressed!

With a roar full of indignation, I used my freed leg to narrowly avoid his sword.

The blade wrapped in dark mana grazed my swaying upper body, leaving only a red mark as if scratched by a fingernail, but unlike before, there was no wound this time.

I didn’t want to verify the protection’s performance this way.

“Grrrk!? Þetta (This), er ekki viljan (wasn’t intentional)…!”

“Die, you bastard!”

There was no time to breathe in the close-quarters combat. Durandal, thrust reflexively, parried his sword, and a kick aimed to rip off his lower jaw cut through the air.

The Knight of Ruin avoided my vertically rising foot by twisting his body, then swung his sword diagonally.

I brought my extended right foot down on the monster’s shoulder and used the rebound to vault over his body. The monster’s sword sliced through empty air.

– KWAAANG!

The missed blade struck the ground. The earth shattered, sending shockwaves in all directions. The pants caught on my feet were caught in the wind and flew far away. It was a tragedy like no other.

“Grrk!”

“Too late-!”

Having moved behind the monster, I twisted my waist and thrust my left hand toward his head. Unlike before, this was a fist filled with pure anger. Frosting, filled with resentment, struck his helmet.

– CRACK!

The Knight of Ruin’s neck rotated about seven times. Somehow, it felt like déjà vu. The kick that followed buried itself in the monster’s spine.

– KWAAANG!

With a thunderous sound, the monster’s armor shattered into pieces. The Knight of Ruin lost his grip on his greatsword and flew through the air like a kicked chick, crashing into the castle wall.

Unable to withstand the impact, the wall cracked and collapsed with a rumble. Dust rose like a wave.