Ch.642No, That’s a Bit…

“You don’t know who the murderer is?

Kill all humans over thirty, and they’ll be among them.”

Even Orhan couldn’t hide his shock at this insane proposition.

“Are you out of your mind…? If you commit such an act, everyone in the plains will become your enemy!”

“When were they not?”

Hersella sneered, pulling up the corner of her mouth askew. Everyone in the plains becoming her enemy? To her, this was nothing new or surprising.

Though she hadn’t committed the act herself, from the moment she wielded fire sorcery and slaughtered Amin and the White Banner Army, the warrior named Haschal had already become an enemy of the plains.

And if she were to cut down Orhan here, she might be remembered forever as a legendary traitor who defected to an enemy nation and brought destruction to the Great Plains.

[No, what kind of crazy talk is that?]

Orhan wasn’t the only one shocked.

Ha Sungwha, listening to the conversation between Hersella and Orhan inside her head, was also bewildered by the extreme statement that reminded him of a certain mustached dictator from his home world.

[Kill all humans over thirty? Have you lost your mind?]

Though Ha Sungwha had killed so many people—thousands—that he could no longer remember the count, he still strictly distinguished between those who could be killed and those who shouldn’t be, based on two criteria:

They must be enemy soldiers.

They must be criminals who have committed crimes.

As long as someone fell into one of these categories, Ha Sungwha considered them “killable.” Since falling into this world, the category of “enemy” had expanded to include all races hostile to humans.

That’s why Ha Sungwha fundamentally agreed with killing Ka’har warriors. He felt no guilt or resistance to slaughtering an enemy army, especially one that made massacre and rape their purpose rather than necessity.

This ideology was most clearly demonstrated when he led a detachment of two hundred to annihilate a Ka’har settlement. At that time, Ha Sungwha killed most of the men in the village without hesitation—all except the elderly and women and children.

To Ha Sungwha, all adult male Ka’har were soldiers of the plains and potential raiders, and eliminating them was no different from stomping on vermin.

However, the elderly and women were, by his standards, neither soldiers nor criminals but simply civilians, so Ha Sungwha didn’t lay a finger on them and let them leave for Ordos. According to his own standards.

Of course, if they were to take up arms out of hatred for the murder of their husbands and fathers, Ha Sungwha would have considered them “enemy soldiers” and killed them too.

Killing enemy soldiers and criminals was right, while killing civilians was wrong. But if civilians took up arms, they became soldiers and had to be killed.

That was Ha Sungwha’s way of thinking.

It was a deceptive and contradictory ideology that excluded the fact that civilians might take up arms because of hatred toward him, but Ha Sungwha never questioned his own thinking.

The education he received in the Republic of Korea and years of war experience had shaped him into such a being.

In any case, by Ha Sungwha’s standards, Hersella’s statement about killing all Ka’har over thirty was unacceptable.

If she had said she would kill all soldiers of the plains over thirty, that might have been somewhat acceptable.

Hersella had anticipated her mental companion would say something like this. Having lived together for nearly a year, she’d had more than enough time to understand his ideology.

‘Why are you so surprised? It was merely a metaphor assuming an extreme situation.’

Therefore, Hersella offered an explanation that would satisfy “Haschal.” She kept it brief since there was no time for a lengthy explanation.

[You’re exaggerating?]

‘Isn’t that obvious?’

The statement about killing all plains people over thirty was merely a declaration to show how deep her grudge was. Hersella herself had no intention of indiscriminately massacring them all.

In her thinking, if she tortured and killed those most likely to be the murderer first, she would find the culprit before things reached that point.

‘Do you think I want to kill all those people?’

[I guess not. That’s surprising.]

Hersella truly didn’t want to slaughter all adult males of the plains. Sincerely.

Unlike Ha Sungwha, who was relieved that Hersella still had some human feelings, her reluctance stemmed from the inhuman reason that killing them all would require an enormous amount of time and effort.

‘Surprising? What an incredibly rude thing to say. What do you take me for? Building mountains of plains people’s corpses is far from my aspiration.’

Of course, Hersella only said she didn’t want to kill them, not that she wouldn’t kill them. That would have been a lie.

In an extreme situation—that is, if she killed all likely suspects and still couldn’t find the murderer—her metaphor about killing all Ka’har over thirty would no longer remain a metaphor.

—-

“Do you truly intend to turn everyone in the plains against you and kill them all…?”

Orhan muttered in a dazed tone.

Unlike Ha Sungwha, Orhan had no way of knowing what conversation Hersella was having with her mental companion, so his reaction was natural.

The intense killing intent Hersella harbored, and her strength rivaling Orhan’s own, gave her statement a frightening degree of plausibility.

If someone else had uttered such words, he would have laughed it off as the ravings of a madman. It was an absurd notion that would be impossible even with a lifetime of effort.

But Hersella had the power to make a madman’s ravings possible, the forces to help her, and the motivation and will to carry out a massacre without hesitation.

This was no longer madness but prophecy.

For a moment, the image of the plains engulfed in raging flames flashed through Orhan’s mind.

‘I tried to nurture fangs that would bite all enemies… but they’ve grown into a wildfire that will burn the entire plains.’

The daughter who had grown on hatred had become more terrifying than he had anticipated. He couldn’t decide whether to rejoice in her growth or be horrified by her extremism.

He couldn’t understand how she could have remained so calm during their previous battle while harboring such poisonous hatred.

He was certain of only one thing: if he died here, no one in the plains would be able to stop Haschal, who would grow even stronger by killing him.

‘…I must not die here.’

Orhan realized that the moment he died, Haschal would be completed as a monster who would burn the plains. That was an outcome he simply couldn’t accept.

Though her direction had seriously gone astray, he had wanted Haschal to become strong enough not to be hurt by anyone, not to become a monster who would devour hundreds of thousands of lives without hesitation.

What father would want such a thing? Even though slaughter and conquest might be virtues of a warrior, there are principles and laws to such things.

Killing for power is justified.

Plundering for wealth is natural for a warrior.

Taking revenge for family is praiseworthy.

Becoming a conqueror in pursuit of glory is the most honorable thing.

But slaughtering hundreds of thousands simply because “it’s easier that way”?

That was monstrous even by Ka’har standards.

And Orhan didn’t want to make his daughter a monster. So he addressed Hersella once more.

“…There’s no need for that. It was the plains’ sorcerers who killed your mother, so find their leader, the ‘Grand Sorcerer of the White Valley.’ He is the true villain you should take revenge on.”

To let her know there was no need to burn the entire plains—she just needed to find and destroy the direct culprit.

“A name of someone I don’t know from somewhere I don’t know. What meaning does such a secret name have when it’s not displayed publicly?”

But it was meaningless.

Of course it was. Hersella had already guessed that Imelia’s death was caused by sorcery, so being told the culprit was a sorcerer meant nothing at this point.

A plains sorcerer would naturally conceal their identity, making it nearly impossible to discover who the Grand Sorcerer of the White Valley really was.

‘As expected, this alone won’t persuade her… At the very least, I must avoid losing my life here.’

Orhan sighed inwardly and summoned his strength. His fighting spirit, which had been fading from successive psychological shocks, began to rise again.

‘…But how?’

The problem was that continuing to fight offered no way to escape from this place. His strength was continuously being depleted.

—-

– Whoosh!

The flames, which had momentarily subsided under the pressure of the Karma of Murder, rose again as if awakening from sleep. Lava rain poured from the ceiling, and the lava pooled on the floor had already reached knee-level for both of them.

Hersella briefly wondered if she could drown him in lava by increasing the heat further.

– Swish.

It was right after that thought when two demon-slaying swords fell from above.

The Red Scale Twin Swords.

Orhan’s beloved weapons he had brought for this battle.

The weapons, which had been buried in the collapse of the barrier, were falling with the melting bedrock, enveloped in lava and emitting a red glow.

One toward Hersella. The other toward Orhan. Both of them fixed their gaze on the sword hilts.

In the next moment, both reflexively reached out and grasped the Red Scale demon-slaying sword flying toward them.