Traitor (3)
A room with drawn curtains.
Beyond the softly settled darkness, a white-haired old man sat at a desk.
It was none other than the Headmaster, Gaston Gallimard.
He had his eyes closed as if concentrating on something.
The teacup in his hand was simply cooling down.
"······."
Not a single twitch.
A particularly heavy atmosphere.
Though it could be described as silence, if one could see through its surface, it was closer to chaos or carnage.
The old man stood amidst the fiercely shattering fragments of the future.
Then.
"······Has it begun?"
The prophet murmured.
An ominous feeling emanating from deep underground.
Fear, rage, despair, sorrow··· a beast's roar containing all those ill omens.
He sensed the stirring of a sticky malice.
It seemed.
The story was unfolding as always.
Unable to escape the prophecy after all.
The hands of a clock turning according to a predetermined fate are like an execution falling upon a death row inmate.
The old man set down the teacup filled with black tea.
The briefly trembling red surface resembled himself, sprawled before duty.
Old lips spoke.
"Traitorr."
To a certain boy.
The prophet uttered a plea that would not reach him.
With a heart tinged with complexity.
"Please··· I entrust that child to you."
A voice scattering ephemerally.
The Headmaster was swallowed by silence once more, as if by waves.
***
The Academy basement.
Blood and corpses littered the surroundings.
It was a space where pitch black had descended.
A ceiling so high its height couldn't be gauged, humid air adding to the eerie atmosphere, and finally, a terrible stench.
The scene of the temple seemed to embody human depravity.
The very bottom of sin.
We stood at its center.
Kwaaaaaang-!
The ceiling shook with an explosive sound.
A strong swirling flow of Demonic energy.
The firepower was like a storm raging throughout the basement.
Shattered magic, blood, flesh··· the fragments scattered everywhere.
Enemies swarmed.
""Lambs! Repay the Lord with slaughter!!!""
Fanatics rushed forward, chanting in unison.
Each and every one of them shed tears of blood.
If a nightmare were to be expressed in a painting, wouldn't it feel like this?
I furrowed my brow but swung my sword lightly.
"Hmm."
Slice-
I cut down an arrow that flew right in front of me.
A unique tremor transmitted through my fingertips.
It felt less like cutting through the hardness of metal or wood, and more like slicing through a lump of protein.
Well, it was a weapon made from human bones and flesh.
'Sacrifice··· using life as a medium, huh.'
A disgusting method.
Muscles and internal organs still alive and wriggling.
Furthermore, perhaps due to Demonic energy contamination, corrosion was progressing where the blood splattered.
A misery that stimulated unpleasant feelings in many ways.
I held my sword.
"This is troublesome."
I was in a position where I had to conserve my output.
The spell, fractured by the infusion of Demonic energy.
I had to restore the seal left by the ancient star.
Since I didn't know how much output would be needed in that process, I had to limit my lies more than usual.
An annoying restriction.
Of course.
"You're all being such a nuisance."
That didn't mean it was overwhelming.
It was just a complaint of annoyance.
I had received personal training from a Sword Saint, so I couldn't be powerless just because I was barehanded, could I?
I'd experienced my fair share of mudslinging at the bottom.
Layers of experience.
I took a step forward.
Clang-!!
The lightly swung sword clashed with the spear of the robe at the forefront.
Sparks flew momentarily.
I roughly broke through the defense and pushed the enemy back.
Kang!! Screech, creak…!
A power struggle ensued, our blades locked together.
Meanwhile, another robe, having somehow infiltrated the flank, launched a thrusting attack aimed at my neck.
It was a natural, flowing combination.
Of course.
The fact that it was seen through meant it was a failure.
I lightly snapped my fingers.
Snap-
Slightly.
A minuscule lie, so insignificant it wouldn't even register as output.
A thin shadow covered the enemies' eyes.
Their vision was blocked as if by a blindfold.
Their posture wavered.
""······?!""
Just one second.
But that moment disrupted their sword trajectory.
Whoosh-
The attack missed.
A lukewarm shard of bone grazed my cheek.
Perhaps due to the disrupted posture, the opponent's stance crumbled.
I didn't miss the opportunity.
Pushing back the robe I was facing head-on, I grabbed its long, flowing hair.
Their vision returned as the shadow lifted, but…
It was too late.
“Ta-da.”
Slice-
A silver line drawn in the air.
Immediately after.
I held a cleanly severed head in my hand.
The headless body soon collapsed.
As I subtly stepped back, the robe I had pushed away earlier charged again.
Its bloodshot eyes were filled with madness.
A scream-like prayer.
""!!Shindlurb liusor keshinma""
The robe yelled and swung its spear.
I angled my blade.
Smoothly deflecting the incoming attack, I simultaneously grabbed the severed head with my other hand.
Holding the long, tied hair, I swung it like a flail.
Shhhwing… Thud!!
A dull thud resounded.
As the head, flung with full force, struck the temple, the charging robe lost its balance and staggered.
Without hesitation, I thrust my sword into its heart.
Rotten blood splattered.
Thud-
‘That makes five.’
I calmly took a deep breath.
Although I had to conserve output, that didn't mean I was completely incapacitated.
If it was to this extent, assisting in battle, I could utilize lies without straining myself.
I clapped my hands.
Clap-
My vision flickered.
The golden afterimage that had momentarily disappeared reappeared in the midst of the enemy ranks.
A short-range teleporting leap.
I formed projectiles with my fingertips.
“Where are you looking?”
Pitter-patter-
I didn't give them time to turn around.
Jet-black fragments shot out in all directions.
The flower, unfolding into dozens of petals, pierced the enemies' foreheads. Blood and flesh were swept away like leaves in the wind.
With my breath slightly catching, I sheathed my sword.
As expected, fighting barehanded was inefficient in terms of stamina.
Although it wasn't a problem for now, since they were just small fry…
'The problem is…’
Their numbers seemed endless.
Malice rushing in relentlessly.
Even with their bodies pierced, slashed, and even limbs severed, the puppets continued to attack.
Such blind movements were unnatural.
As expected, they weren’t easy opponents.
I stared at the man standing in the center of the blood-soaked temple.
A familiar face.
'The Puppeteer.'
Occasionally, mutants appeared among the cultists.
Katasto.
A phenomenon where Demonic energy mixed with inherent talents like playing music, singing, painting, or describing, breaking the existing framework.
As rare as the [Stars] in terms of numbers.
Since each possessed power comparable to a calamity.
In the original story, they would hunt faculty members or key figures, or even collapse the Grand Cathedral, the headquarters of the Church, playing a role in leading the world to ruin.
That man was one of them.
'He’s appeared.'
The Puppeteer.
Commonly referred to as Marionnette.
A villain who appeared from the middle of the original story.
One of the top combatants among the cultists, and also a grim reaper who commanded countless corpses.
The small fry I saw were all his subordinates.
"As expected··· a troublesome ability."
Troops that showed no sign of dwindling.
Puppets carrying out their master's will.
He not only manipulated Chimeras and humans, but now he was even moving the corpses scattered on the floor.
Therefore, the battlefield, far from being cleared, only grew more chaotic.
My breath hitched with the fierce battle.
It seemed I couldn't avoid expending output.
'Of course.’
If I wasn't alone, the story was different.
I signaled.
To the fox, whose hair was now dyed crimson.
A call for cremation upon sin.
"Irene."
"Yes."
"Burn them down."
"Leave it to me."
Immediately after.
A streak of flame cut across the air in a straight line.
The ensuing explosion of flames engulfed the surroundings.
The intense heat exploded, reducing the corpses and puppets to ashes.
Only a roaring sound remained in my ears.
Kwaaaaaaaaa-!!
Firepower that seemed to collapse the temple.
Brushing off the flames that touched my cheek, I called out to the Princess as well.
As if waiting, the girl plunged her sword into the ground.
"Your Highness."
"I was waiting."
Her lips uttered the starting word that would turn the tables.
"Sword, be dyed."
-Charlotte Ryu Domain Swordsmanship Secret Technique-
'Ash Gray Flower Garden'
Rumble-
Cracks appeared on the marble floor, and steel vines began to sprout one by one.
A feast of swords and roses, as if clearing a path.
A flower garden unfolded magnificently.
As the delicate hand twisted the sword embedded in the ground, thousands of petals fluttered like sharp blades.
The scattered fragments pierced the hearts of the puppets.
Blood stained the flowers.
I murmured as I watched.
'The flow isn't bad.'
I calmly assessed the situation.
Two helpers.
Each was doing a good job of keeping the puppets in check.
Of course, given the opponent, it seemed difficult for them to completely handle it, but it felt like the small fry were being dealt with.
The continuous chorus of flames and vines created a straight path.
A path leading directly to the altar.
"I can see him now."
Beyond the smell of burning flesh and the lingering ashes, the Puppeteer was visible.
He had his hand on the seal.
He was staring this way with cold eyes.
As if recognizing our presence.
'Judging by the state of the altar… the progress is still less than 50%.'
It seemed we had plenty of time.
For now, I decided to prioritize clearing the immediate area.
I coated my hands in darkness.
The opponent was formidable.
Although not as strong as the 'Conductor' known to have reached the level of a [Star], he was still among the top-tier villains.
It wasn't an opponent to face lightly with my output restricted.
I compressed the thinly spread lies.
Just as I was preparing to leap, radiating killing intent…
""So… I understand.""
Suddenly, he spoke.
His gaze fixed in one direction.
In his madness-filled eyes, only the golden snake was reflected.
The man spoke as if in realization.
""About the being that has been obstructing our will.""
I was about to ignore him, but…
His next words made me freeze in my tracks.
""It was you, ■■■■.""
A word referring to myself.
I faltered.
How did that guy… know that name?
My mind momentarily stalled.
"Wait, what did you just…?"
""I cannot defeat you."
Indeed.
How could a mere insect challenge a vessel of God?
However.
This plan cannot fail.
For His will.
"Therefore… I shall offer everything."
Crack-
Then, the Puppeteer made a sudden move.
Perhaps because I was momentarily distracted by the fact that he called my [Name], I uncharacteristically missed the suspicious sign.
He bit his own tongue and scattered Demonic energy around him.
A dark red light emanated from the altar.
'A sacrificial offering…!'
He had offered his own life as a sacrifice.
The soul of a Katasto with a unique talent, one of the strongest on the continent, was enough to completely break the already cracked seal.
In an instant.
Clang-
A sound like shattering glass echoed.
The seal shattered into pieces.
Simultaneously, a jet-black light erupted from the temple floor, and soon, Demonic energy engulfed the area, obscuring my vision.
It was difficult to even maintain my balance amidst the swirling fragments of blood and corpses.
I created a curtain of shadows, protecting my companions.
Kwaaaaaaaaa-
A merciless storm of Demonic energy raged.
The temple was already devastated.
The Puppeteer's body, which had broken the seal, was torn to shreds, and even the surrounding puppets had melted without a trace.
I gradually increased the output of my lies, enduring the fierce wind.
How much time had passed?
As the ferocious flow gradually subsided…
The true disaster revealed itself.
"…Oh dear."
I clicked my tongue.
The scene before my eyes was truly terrible.
Slowly, I raised my head and looked up.
Krrrrrrrrrr-
A sound that seemed to scrape against my eardrums.
The head of some creature barely touched the ceiling, which must have been at least 50 meters high.
Its enormous wings and tail completely covered the destroyed temple.
Black flames flickered between its jaws.
Although it was clearly a living creature… it didn't fit the word "life" at all.
Because its flesh, including its heart, was rotting everywhere.
[EP23. The Stirring of Evil]
-Seething blood and malice, the birth that cries out for death-
The boss monster of the episode.
Described in the setting as [Death] itself… and an ancient dragon transformed into a Chimera.
Translated into modern terms, it was a Death Dragon.
We faced a calamity.
Kuoooooooo-
A roar that shook the entire basement.
Feeling a chill run down my spine, I muttered a complaint.
"There's no other way."
I clenched my fists again.
In both hands, I gripped swords carved from shadows.
My closed eyelids slowly opened.
My fully revealed white pupils shone dangerously.
The serpent declared.
"Hunting isn't my style, but I suppose there's no choice."
It seemed…
I would have to bring out plan B.
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