Ch.6767. Flame

When he saw the blade coming toward him.

Rex thought of Darbein. The leader of the mercenary group that attacked his hometown. To Rex at that time, Darbein was an insurmountable foe. If he hadn’t awakened his Sacred Flame, he would have died alongside Gert, and the village would have been reduced to ashes.

Though he ultimately prevailed, the memory of that day remained vivid in his mind. He couldn’t forget it. Every time he looked at the scar across his upper body, phantom pain throbbed. In the nightmares that repeated daily because of Gears, Darbein always appeared without fail.

The progression of the nightmares differed from reality. They became more horrific and grotesque, pushing Rex’s mind to the edge. The common thread was that they always ended with someone sacrificing themselves in Rex’s place.

He sees the corpses of his family. Someone dear to him is cut down by Darbein’s blade. Rex fails to block the technique.

He wanted to block it.

When he woke at dawn, he would grab his Zweihander and head to the yard. He would swing his sword like a madman. He recalled the trajectory of the longsword he had seen then. He projected the Darbein from his nightmares before his eyes.

Fighting, dying, dodging, getting hit, gritting his teeth and fighting again… By the time even the blood crusts on the handle had fallen off,

He stopped getting cut. Though he still didn’t understand the principle behind the technique, he could successfully parry it. Of course, no one knew what would happen if they actually faced off again. After all, this was just imaginary sparring. All this effort might be in vain, and it wouldn’t be strange if the sense of having overcome it was just baseless confidence.

But.

Now, Rex smiled.

“You…!”

Crimson flames came rushing in. Kaspar’s Sacred Flame was as red as blood. The flames wrapping around the blade were certainly threatening, but they meant nothing if they couldn’t cut. Clang! A brilliantly intense energy devoured that blood-red flame. The constantly changing trajectory of the longsword became readable. With just a light extension of his Zweihander, Kaspar’s attacks repeatedly ended in failure.

“What the hell are you?!”

At that outburst, Rex pulled his lips up into an even wider smile. It must be surprising. He was surprised himself. Who would have thought he’d see Darbein’s technique again here? He had vaguely predicted it when he saw the stance with the longsword. The moment he saw the blade coming at an angle, his premonition became certainty. It felt familiar, and his body reacted before his thoughts.

“I’ve been hit by that before. It doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Shut up!”

Kaspar bit his lip hard and thrust his longsword. Rex narrowed his eyes and took a light breath. Blocking that technique didn’t require exceptional dynamic vision. It wasn’t about seeing with the eyes. It was about reading with the senses. A cool breeze rippled against his side. There it is. Rex bent his elbow. The blade of the Zweihander pointed downward. Clang! The longsword that appeared belatedly was roughly pushed back.

Kaspar groaned with a contorted face.

‘What… power!’

The impact from the momentary exchange of swords nearly broke his wrist. Though he managed not to lose his grip on the longsword, the throbbing pain disrupted his concentration.

Rex dove into that opening. A dazzling light extended in a straight line. At a glance, it looked like an ordinary thrust. Its power was anything but ordinary. Extreme Light Flash. The mental image it contained pursued extreme speed. Rex had the capacity to realize even more than that.

“Kuk!”

He withdrew the blade before blood could spray. Kaspar’s arm went limp. He widened his eyes. He had… missed the attack. A moment later, he realized what had happened to his body. The joint in his shoulder had been severed. Once he recognized this, a burning pain rushed in.

‘I almost died.’

If he hadn’t twisted his body urgently, his forehead would have been pierced. For the first time in a long while, the feeling of despair bloomed within him. The Flowing Blade didn’t work. He was outmatched as a Sacred Angle Bearer. Even in swordsmanship, the other was a step ahead. He was inferior in every aspect.

For a swordsman, an injury to one shoulder is fatal. There was no chance of winning. The situation had already tilted in Rex’s favor. At this rate, he would be helplessly defeated, and death would follow. Kaspar ground his teeth.

“You brought this upon yourself.”

He possessed two blessings. The Flowing Blade was a technique he displayed relatively often, but the other one he had only manifested twice in over twenty years. It was an incomparably more powerful blessing than the Flowing Blade, but the cost was equally great. It inflicted damage on himself as well. Permanent deprivation of sacred power. Despite this drawback, he had to make a decision now.

“I really didn’t want to use this…” A soft muttering was heard. Rex furrowed his brow. The Sacred Flame on Kaspar’s longsword extinguished. Had his sacred power been depleted? No. That was too simplistic. Though he didn’t understand why, killing the man right away was the right choice. With that instant judgment, just as he was about to launch his Zweihander—

[Dreamlike Whisper.]

Light disappeared from the world.

—Zing! Centered on Kaspar, dark waves flowed out and covered his vision. At this sudden change, Rex stopped moving and stepped back.

He couldn’t see anything. Is this… a blessing? Kaspar, the Zweihander, even his own body had been swallowed by shadows and disappeared. Despite the confusion, his reason remained unshaken.

Dodge.

A voice, perhaps not his own, whispered from deep within. Rex rolled on the ground. The dull texture of the floor was felt against his skin. Something touched his fingertips. A chair. That revealed much.

The space hadn’t changed. The perception that the world had turned pitch black was an illusion. This was still inside the gambling den. Nothing had changed. His accelerated thoughts quickly reached a conclusion. Kaspar’s blessing was an ability that disrupted the senses.

His sense of touch was still intact. However, his ears felt muffled, as if submerged in a deep lake. It was his sight and hearing that were distorted. It was an incredibly unfair blessing. He had lost the two most important functions in a fight. No matter how skilled a fighter one might be, without sight or hearing, it was like having one’s limbs cut off.

Continuing his thoughts, he moved his legs. Though he couldn’t see ahead, he navigated by visualizing the interior of the building that he had memorized earlier.

Blessings aren’t omnipotent. The effect of a blessing follows the user’s level. In Rex’s judgment, Kaspar’s skill wasn’t exceptional enough to easily use such a blessing. He must have experienced backlash, or even if not, he wouldn’t be able to maintain this phenomenon for long.

He had to endure. Until Kaspar’s ability ended.

How?

First, utilize what he had. In response to his will, a blessing awakened.

[Warrior’s Gaze.]

His heightened senses spread like a spider’s web, scanning the surroundings. His sight and hearing didn’t return. Instead, a dense smell of blood pricked his nose. His sense of smell was normal. In fact, thanks to losing other senses, it had become even sharper. So he concentrated all his nerves on his sense of smell.

The stench of corpses rolling on the floor. The damp humidity preceding the rainy season. The smell of dry wood. After filtering out all those, what remained was only the cold scent of iron.

Rex muttered softly.

Found it.

He could smell the ‘scent’ of distorting air. He extended his Zweihander toward it. His body had been trained daily. He could move as desired even without seeing.

“—!”

A collision transmitted through the blade. Rex twisted his lips. So you blocked it. He could feel the subtly rippling flow of air. Rex twisted his upper body. It felt like walking on a blade with his eyes closed. One misstep would mean instant death.

He didn’t fall. Rex, as if dancing, bent his waist, tilted his head, turned his body, and avoided all attacks. It was a strange feeling. He couldn’t see, yet he could see. How Kaspar was moving, what trajectory the longsword was drawing—he could see it all.

As Rex continued to move his steps endlessly, he suddenly heard a sound. Whoosh. The sound of a small spark being born. In this quiet world where even his own breath seemed distant, that crackling sound gradually grew louder. Thump. A vibration resonated. It was the beating of his heart.

In the darkness that filled his vision, a clear flame rose in the center. It was vivid, yet at the same time, it seemed precarious, as if it might go out at any moment. To keep it from extinguishing, it needed fuel.

Rex reached out toward the flame as if entranced. Then, the mark engraved on his chest grew hot. No. It wasn’t the mark that was hot. It was him, his entire body that was burning up.

[Focus on the Sacred Flame.]

He heard Berger’s voice. Words he had heard at the Knights’ Hall. If he focused on nurturing the Sacred Flame, he might find a clue to ascend to Radiance. Sacred Angle Bearers each elevate their realm in different ways.

Following Berger’s words doesn’t guarantee becoming a Radiance Bearer.

But Rex had an intuition.

If he fed this flame, something would definitely change anew.

‘Eat.’

He poured all his sacred power into it. The flame greedily sucked in the energy and blazed up. Like dawn light driving away twilight, the radiance emitted by the flame pushed back the darkness.

Crack! The darkness enveloping the world scattered into fragments. The blessing had collapsed.

“Could it be… you’ve awakened?”

Gradually, his vision brightened, and his blocked eardrums regained function. Rex raised his greatsword, the Zweihander. The blazing Sacred Flame seemed to have completely become one with the blade. The enormous flame that rose up touched the ceiling of the building.

Kaspar, who had been staring at it with a pale face, shouted as he stepped back when Rex slowly approached.

“This can’t be happening. This shouldn’t be possible! There should have been at least a full minute left before the ability wore off, how did you do it?!”

Calm eyes looked at Kaspar. Distorted expression, restlessly shifting gaze. Even a hint of despair was evident in his near-screaming outcry.

“Eliminating the Underhand Clan won’t remove all the villains in Lindveil! Others who have been hiding and waiting for an opportunity will fill the void! Completely eradicating evil with human power is nothing but an illusion!”

“I know.”

At the nonchalant response, Kaspar wore a blank expression. Rex smiled slightly and said,

“But so what? I’m not particularly killing you all for justice. I’m just eliminating you because you touched my people. And if I can clean up the trash in front of me while I’m at it, isn’t that a good thing?”

From the beginning, he never dreamed of grand ideals like saving all the weak who suffer at the hands of villains. Rex never thought of himself as particularly good. It was enough if he could just protect the precious ones in his embrace now.

“Haha…”

Kaspar let out a hollow laugh, then ground his teeth and spat,

“Fuck, even in death, I curse—”

The words didn’t continue. Like lightning falling from above, the blade swept through Kaspar. The golden afterimage floating in the air didn’t fade for a while. Slash. Kaspar’s body split left and right. The left half slid down, and the other half followed, collapsing.

Rex silently looked down at the corpse, then raised his head. A clear breeze blew through the smell of blood. The dark night sky came into view. The Sacred Flame didn’t stop at cutting Kaspar; it swept through the entire building. Droplets fell through the gap in the split ceiling. Drip, drip… Whoosh. The dew that fell in dots soon became a heavy downpour.

Standing still in the rain, Rex closed his eyes. It felt like being washed away. The negative thoughts swirling in his mind and the excitement of battle, the dense smell of blood, slowly mixed with the rainwater and washed away.

Rex opened his eyes.

“Were you watching?”

The answer came from behind.

“Yes.”

Through the split in the wall, Berger walked out with a calm expression.

“As I said, I had no intention of helping. I was planning to intervene only if your life was truly in danger. But that was needless worry. I watched from beginning to end. You fought well.”

Rex looked around with sunken eyes. There were no survivors. The Underhand Clan had been annihilated here today.

“Starting tomorrow, things will get busy. This isn’t an incident that can be quietly covered up.”

“I know.”

“That’s good.”

Berger gestured with a gentle smile.

“Go.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ll clean up the scene. We can’t hide it anyway, and we can’t just leave it like this. Leave the aftermath to me, and you go on. You have something else to do, don’t you?”

Rex looked at Berger with round eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“…Thank you.”

After hesitating briefly, he nodded and turned around. Berger was right. Rex left the building and walked down the street.

The night was not over yet.