The Sword Saint 3

Doyun, who had not skipped a single chapter while researching the construction of golems during his Regression, had considerable proficiency in alchemy, especially in the art of Sarimsu (magic ritualism).

Therefore, he immediately understood Vyuskr’s words: “Unlike Goule, I have no medium to gather power.” Vyuskr needed a ‘core’.

“That is?”

As Doyun took out a gemstone from his spatial storage, the azure flames from the skull’s eye sockets seemed to glare at it.

The object Doyun took out was something familiar to Vyuskr.

“Did you kill Satan?”

It was Satan’s right eyeball.

“No, I missed it. Something inconceivable happened.”

The advent of the Demon Lord was an inconceivable occurrence, even for Doyun who had lived through 18 rounds.

However, Vyuskr tilted his skull slightly, perhaps finding it odd that such a descriptor was used by none other than Enoch.

“You must have met the Demon Lord as well?”

Doyun smirked. Vyuskr would occasionally throw out humorless jokes like this, but only towards Enoch and Hecleus. True to his nickname ‘Skull’, his jokes were always dreadfully unfunny.

But this time, he had inadvertently hit the mark. Of course, Vyuskr himself was unaware of his accurate guess, and only Doyun chuckled quietly to himself.

‘I have so many stories to tell him.’

Doyun grinned at the thought of regaling Vyuskr with tales of his battles against the Demon Lord.

“This place is too shabby to vent a century of frustrations.”

Saying so, Doyun tossed Satan’s eye towards Vyuskr.

Vyuskr caught it and alternated his gaze between the eye and Doyun.

“Brudhild probably has just as much to say to you as I do.”

“What do you mean?”

Doyun gestured towards the entrance of the chamber with his chin.

“Let’s go out.”

Doyun had no intention of separating the father and son any longer.

+++

At an intermediate destination, the Alliance forces had each of the three legions construct a single fortress, totaling three fortresses. The fortresses were erected very quickly using magic and various powers.

In just seven days, castle-like fortresses stood in the middle of the Wastelands.

While the fortresses were being built, Doyun had the surplus troops exterminate the monsters in the area.

The stated purpose was to secure the fortresses, but there was another real reason.

“So, who exactly is that person?”

On the completed fortress, one knight asked his senior officer who was serving as a general, pointing towards the distance.

Where he was pointing was near the fortress in the Wastelands. There, the Supreme Commander Enoch and a mysterious man sat across a campfire from each other.

“Who is that person having a private meeting with the Supreme Commander? And at this dangerous night, outside the fortress?”

“Dangerous? Who says it’s dangerous?”

“Well… I mean, do they really need to sit on the bare ground?”

The general shrugged.

“According to Dokkomuyoung, he’s a friend of Lord Enoch.”

“A friend, you say?”

At those words, the knight raised the telescope in his hand and looked towards the campfire.

Lord Enoch was poking the campfire with a long wooden stick. And in front of him, a man wearing a tattered robe with holes sat polishing a sword.

He had his back turned to them, so his face and attire were not visible. However, his build seemed quite thin.

“A friend…”

For a man to suddenly appear in these Wastelands and be called Lord Enoch’s friend…

However, their atmosphere did indeed seem quite relaxed and comfortable, without any pretense, much different from how Lord Enoch had seemed while commanding the march.

The knight, still focused through the telescope, moved only his lips to ask:

“If he’s a friend, is he from before or after Lord Enoch’s reincarnation?”

“How would I know? But considering how special he seems, it’s probably from before his reincarnation.”

“Wow… Then is he a warrior who belonged to the original Guild?”

The general, who had been leaning against the wall, now snatched the telescope the knight had been looking through as if he had seen enough.

“Yeah.”

“Regardless, we shouldn’t pry into the affairs of our superiors. It would be rude to watch them for too long, so go do some maintenance. We’re marching back tomorrow.”

“Ah…”

The general and knight walked down from the fortress.

However, the knight seemed reluctant, glancing back at the two figures with a longing gaze before turning away.

Meanwhile, the two men the knight had been watching sat by the campfire in the dark Wastelands, engrossed in their conversation and oblivious to the passage of time.

The man wearing the tattered robe, Vyuskr, ran his bony fingers along his ribs and moved his jaw to speak:

“How strange.”

In the place where his heart should be, a purple gemstone was embedded, as if fixed in midair.

It was Satan’s eyeball that Doyun had implanted as a core using alchemical rituals.

“What is?”

Doyun asked as he tossed a log into the campfire.

They used to camp like this in the Wastelands, lighting a campfire to spend the night. The campfire illuminating the heart of the Wastelands was enough to remind them of those times a century ago.

The flickering flames dyed Vyuskr’s skull a warm orange hue. To Doyun, it seemed to overlay Vyuskr’s living face from the past. The firelight that brought back their memories seemed to restore Vyuskr’s warm flesh and skin.

Vyuskr fidgeted with the gemstone inside him as he spoke:

“Whenever you stepped in, every problem was solved so easily. No matter how impossible it seemed. Even after decades, it’s still strange to me.”

Doyun had resolved Vyuskr’s problem by implanting the core, thinking of the now-mobile but lifeless Vyuskr as a kind of magic golem.

Regular mana stones were insufficient to contain not only the death energy (sagi) that Vyuskr needed instead of ordinary mana, but also the tremendous soul power of the Sword Saint.

However, this eye, a top-tier mana stone rivaling a Dragon Heart and containing the energy of an Archfiend, was the perfect fit.

Thanks to it, Vyuskr could now store the death energy from the monsters dying around him, allowing him to continuously move and even leave the chamber.

Doyun snorted at Vyuskr’s words, calling them nonsense.

“What’s so surprising about that… It’s only natural that I can do those things, with the special benefit of Regression.”

“No.”

Vyuskr paused from polishing the chilled blade with a cloth.

“I lack the power. Much more power is needed.”

“…Should I drain the life energy from the monsters around here?”

“No. Think of Goule.”

Goule, the Necromancer King and Lich King, wielded tremendous power in battle by sacrificing the many lives extinguished on the battlefield. The greater the death toll, the more power he could unleash.

And for Vyuskr to regain his full power… at least the level of a Vanguard Commander would likely be required.

Undoubtedly, an immense number of deaths would be needed.

“War. For me to unleash my true power, deaths on the scale of war are needed.”

“…You make things so complicated.”

However, contrary to his words, Doyun grinned slightly.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Vyuskr simply nodded his skull in silence.

“Won’t you show it to Brudhild as well?”

“That would be too much for the child.”

“Child? Hey, your son is already over a hundred years old. You don’t want to raise a papa’s boy, do you?”

Vyuskr made a motion resembling a chuckle with his skull.

Then, with a wistful expression as if reminiscing about someone, he gazed into the campfire.

“Brudhild is… still a child. Still lacking. He will still need his father’s guidance.”

“…”

Doyun did not argue further.

Although Brudhild had grown into an admirable warrior, Vyuskr’s words were not entirely untrue.

Even to Doyun, it seemed clear that Brudhild needed a father, just as Vyuskr needed him.

The two had parted far too soon.

“Since he is lacking, I must teach him myself. Starting from the basics, one by one. Slowly.”

“…I see.”

It was still the same unmodulated, grating, and low voice, as if scraping against bone.

Yet Doyun could sense profound anticipation in his friend’s words.

The Alliance forces had achieved their interim goal. With the successful construction of the fortresses, they would return to regroup and prepare for the next advance.

As the night before the retreat gradually faded, Vyuskr’s long-awaited reunion with his son drew nearer.