150. For Whom Did You Raise Your Sword? (3)
I looked at the Inquisitor’s wounds with blurry eyes. I had used all the medicine in the base to treat her. The bleeding had barely stopped, and she had recovered some of her strength with the help of potions. I changed the bloodstained cloth on the wound with a fresh one. The smell of blood. I thought it had finally started to fade after the patients had left the base, but now it was back, thicker than ever.
“[Fortunately, her condition seems to have improved.]”
“…What on earth happened?”
The Inquisitor was unconscious. In addition to the major injuries, there were small wounds scattered all over her body. Her face was filled with exhaustion. Her arms and legs were limp, and her priest’s clothes were stained with blood, sweat, and dirt. The torn priest’s clothes revealed the area around her chest. I touched the torn piece.
“[The mercenary… He slashed her, didn’t he?]”
The mercenary, Arleon Elmion, had attacked the Inquisitors. He had started a battle with the remaining Inquisitors, including Bishop Andre, and she had followed the bishop’s orders to leave the battlefield and inform me of what happened. After telling me this much, the Inquisitor lost consciousness.
“Why on earth would he…”
The question of why wrapped around my head. The Aryen I knew was cold-blooded and ruthless, but he was never the type to slash someone and run away without any reason. It didn’t make sense that a stubborn man who looked after him with his own beliefs would suddenly do such a thing. I bit my lip.
No, do I even know him properly?
“[For now, we have no choice but to wait for this child to wake up. Don’t judge hastily.]”
“…Alright. But I think we should contact the palace anyway.”
The cut that slashed through the flesh. Or its aftermath. I imagined the scene of Aryen cutting down the bishop in my head. The Inquisitors around him couldn’t withstand Aryen’s strength and skill and fell back. The bishop, locked in battle with Aryen, gets cut little by little. Aryen’s sword grazes past the skin, and blood and flesh scatter. His eyes, cold as a bloodstained sword, shimmered. I looked into Aryen’s eyes and silently asked what had happened.
“Iloi, I’m coming in.”
The door opened with Daphne’s whispered voice. Worried eyes looked at the Inquisitor. Daphne put down a tray with a towel, bowl of water, and medicine, and examined the wound.
“The medicine seems to be working well; it doesn’t look like it’s getting worse. If he gets some rest, he should wake up soon.”
I nodded without taking my eyes off the Inquisitor.
“What about Marianne?”
“She decided to go back to the Holy Kingdom quickly. With the bishop and the Inquisitors missing, there must be a major problem with the Holy Kingdom’s security.”
Missing. It was an unfavorable word. Not knowing ties our hands. Where could Aryen be now? Is Bishop Andre dead or alive and on the run? Did the remaining Inquisitors all die by Aryen’s hand, or did they survive on their own?
“Did the evil god worshipers still exist in such numbers?”
“I’m not sure if it’s because of the evil god worshipers.”
Whether the evil god worshipers pulled some strings, or Aryen himself betrayed the Inquisitors and became like this. I bit my lip and stared at the Inquisitor. His breathing was gradually becoming irregular, which meant he would wake up soon. His trembling eyelids opened. The Inquisitor took a few deep breaths and turned his head toward me.
“…What was the last thing I told you?”
For someone who had been unconscious for several hours, his voice was surprisingly clear. His cloudy gray eyes alternately looked at Daphne and me, then fixed on me.
“You said that after the battle with the enemy, a mercenary suddenly started attacking you guys. You escaped the scene under Bishop Andre’s order and ended up here.”
“…Yes, that’s correct. The mercenary.”
The Inquisitor touched the area of his wound. It seemed as if she was trying to remember through her injury. The pain must have been intense, but she didn’t even blink.
“Were you tracking the evil god worshipers?”
“Yes. The pursuit team finally reached the core of those bastards. They revealed a lot during the comet incident and the tower raid.”
Starting with my question, the Inquisitor began to unfold the story one by one.
“I was ordered to guard the entrance. The bishop and the mercenary went in as the vanguard, and…”
The Inquisitor slightly furrowed her brow.
“And what came out of that room was… a mercenary who looked different than usual.”
—
“The smell is terrible.”
Bishop Andre muttered as he rubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. The smell of decay permeated the air. Aryen didn’t take deep breaths. Strong stimuli dull the other senses.
“Isn’t it about time you got used to it, Argyon?”
“This place seems particularly vicious. It’s enough to make my head go numb.”
Argyon faintly nodded in response. The smell of corpses, or perhaps the smell of rotting, neglected wounds. It was a smell that always lingered where there were doomsday cults. Their smell did not mix with others. If one were to describe it in terms of color, it would be black. Any other smell that entered this air would assimilate into it.
“How about the back?”
The bishop asked as he turned around. Inquisitors who had dealt with the heretics were joining one by one. The last one to join reported.
“Everything is taken care of.”
“Losses?”
“One dead. Two injured. No other problems.”
The inquisitors mentioned their deaths so easily. Bishop André nodded curtly and stared at the dark cave. The evil energy was crawling out like bugs, obscuring the divine power of the inquisitors.
“It took a long time.”
“It’s not that it took a long time. Considering that we’ve cornered them like this in just a year, after they’ve been deeply rooted in various parts of the continent for hundreds of years, it’s unbelievably fast.”
Bishop André pulled out a dagger. The blade gleamed between the torchlight and the divine power.
“We’re going in now. Argyon and I will lead. Half of you guard the entrance, and the rest follow. Either secure an escape route or be prepared to completely block it off.”
Argyon raised his sword. They said the end was in sight, even though they hadn’t gained anything yet. Argyon narrowed his eyes as he looked at the bloodstains on his sword. No answer came. What Argyon sought did not exist wherever he went. As a result, his frustration built up. The possibilities of salvation shown by the hero weighed heavily on Argyon’s heart.
“Let’s go. This time, both of us will have to give it our all.”
Embrace the darkness.
Argyon raised his sword. The first strike was directed at the still-living cultists. Four were cut down with a single blow. The cultists laughed as their throats were slit. The remaining cultists all died within just four more attacks. And what awaited them at the end was a writhing, formless black energy.
Bishop André watched the black mist flow into Argyon. It was ominously indescribable. Argyon’s eyes rolled back as he convulsed standing up. The inquisitors who had followed the bishop and Argyon drew their divine power and stood guard.
“-Back off!”
The shout burst from the bishop’s mouth, and at the same time, Argyon turned around. His gaze became a blade. The wind blew, carving marks on the floor and cutting into the inquisitors who couldn’t avoid it in time. Blood splattered as the wind swept through the corridor.
“Ugh-!”
The dagger was broken. Bishop André was horrified and searched for another one in his pocket. Argyon, leaning his head oddly at the entrance, looked at the charging inquisitors.
“Don’t come in!”
The inquisitors stopped in their tracks. Argyon took a step. As Argyon’s sword cut through an inquisitor, Bishop André threw a divine spell. A golden divine power left behind a trail along the bishop’s path. Argyon’s sword intercepted the bishop’s spell from above.
“-!”
The sword was heavy. The bishop’s body was forced to the ground. The bishop instinctively realized that if he lost Argyon to this force, there would be trouble. The inquisitors did not hesitate and charged towards Argyon, intent on killing him. Feeling their murderous intent, Argyon’s eyes sparkled as he lifted his body.
“Survive…”
From Argyon’s faintly opened mouth, those words slipped out. An invisible line was drawn in the air. Space creaked and was cut apart. The arms and legs of the inquisitors caught between the divided space were severed.
“I’ll kill you.”
The blades of the inquisitors did not stop. They rushed straight towards Arwen, who twisted his body to deflect, dodge, and block all of their sword tips. For Arwen, defense was synonymous with offense. The inquisitors’ blood splattered into the air. There was no mercy in his attack. Realizing this, Bishop André decided to unleash his full power.
*Boom-!*
The holy device exploded, temporarily blowing Arwen away. No one was left untouched. The bishop forcibly lifted one of the fallen inquisitors and held his shoulder. She was not in good shape either, but at least she was able to move.
“Isilla, go to the royal road of the Kairos Kingdom. Inform the hero of this situation.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Judgment was quick, and orders were not refused. Bishop André watched Isilla leave and turned his head toward Arwen. Arwen’s dark eyes stared straight back at the bishop. Arwen’s lips twitched, drawing a faint smile.
“Damn it, Arwen. What on earth are you doing?”
“Bishop, it was all in vain. I tell you, it was.”
“What are you talking about? Pull yourself together.”
“I couldn’t find the way. No, the path just led to a dead end.”
Arwen rushed in. The bishop tried to block Arwen’s movement with a spell imbued with holy power, but his speed didn’t slow down for an instant.
“Damn it.”
He pulled out a new spell. An ominous energy began to surge from Arwen’s sword. It was crimson. Bishop André drew more on the holy device. Instinct screamed to give it his all, to stake his life on it.
*Boom-!*
A burst of light exploded, and Bishop André was thrown back. Thick smoke rose, obscuring the people. Sparks flew through the smoke. In a split second, countless exchanges of sword strikes and life took place. Arwen’s sword showed no mercy. The bishop kicked the door shut. In the darkness of the room, the fire of Arwen’s aura and the bishop’s holy device lit up.
“Arwen, can you hear me?”
From noble mtl dot com
“I can hear you. I can, Bishop. But just because I can hear your words doesn’t mean anything will change. Just as my sword can’t change anything, your words can’t change me either.”
Arwen spoke, lowering his head. The red glow of the aura cast a deep shadow on his face.
“If only I had known that possession would be such a headache when it happened to someone like you. I can’t even perform an exorcism. I should have considered the possibility that the leader of the demon worshippers could be in this state.”
Arwen’s lips curled into a grin. Bishop André’s mouth twisted in distaste.
“This is the end of the chase, Bishop.”
“You never know.”
The bishop discarded the spell in his hand and reached into his pocket. Sensing the change in the air, Arwen’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve shown my full power.”
Two daggers were clenched in the bishop’s hands.
“Don’t resent me even if you die.”
—
Agnes listened to the entire story and closed her eyes slightly. I carefully observed her expression. As her thoughts changed, her atmosphere shifted subtly. I didn’t question the queen. I, too, would have had a troubled expression like her.
“Hero Iloi.”
After a long silence, Agnes opened her eyes. I recognized the determination in her gaze.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Capture the mercenary, Aryen Elmyon alive. If the situation does not allow, kill him. Even if you must kill him, know that it is by my command that you commit this murder.”
I bowed my head.
“I will do as Your Majesty wishes.”