In the heart of Holy City Arteia, the Ritual City.
The Archdeacon Garoth, staying there, draws back the curtains and shifts his gaze outside.
What caught his eyes was one of Arteia’s cultural facilities, the Grand Arena.
“Is the ritual proceeding?”
“Yes, it is, Archdeacon sir.”
The one who answered Garoth’s question was the last of the three Black Guards.
“We have received reports from the priests at the ritual site that Prince Ulysses has been secured.”
Garoth, who had been silently listening, turns his gaze from the coliseum to the Black Guard who was speaking.
“Have the other Archdeacons shown any reaction yet?”
“Not yet, so far.”
In the Sanctity Chamber, a place in the holy nation where sacred relics are kept, he had secretly taken out the ‘The Engraved Lie’ using his privilege.
Though safe for now, as time passes, the risk of being discovered increases, and he felt relieved that there was no reaction from the other Archdeacons yet.
Who knows what pretext the other Archdeacons might use to catch him out.
But his anxiety would end today.
‘Don’t blame me too much, Prince Ulysses.’
The line of diplomatic relations with the empire that had brought him this far, he must hold on to it as it would be the duty of any person.
Furthermore, he would let the Fourth Prince hold onto this line in his stead.
The Fourth Prince, far removed from the succession to the throne, either way he dies, it would be the same, so if it benefits him, that would suffice.
“Is there any special report?”
“Currently, Prince Ulysses’s escort is in a standoff.”
“They’ll handle it, the Black Guards and Idel, that guy.”
One of the nobles of the empire who had sought asylum in the holy nation.
As one of the top knights even among the skilled knights of the empire, he was said to be a formidable fighter.
“Do you trust that guy? After seeking asylum, he followed the teachings of the Sword Saint and shadowed him.”
“I don’t trust him. However, I do believe in the vengeance he harbors.”
“His vengeance?”
“Exactly, ignoring the Sword Saint’s advice and heading to the ritual site on my command wasn’t that why?”
Garoth, mocking the absent Idel, shifted his gaze back to the coliseum.
‘Even if that Idel guy fails to defeat Julian, it doesn’t matter.’
The important thing is to successfully cast the ‘suggestion magic.’ If that succeeds, the guards without a mage won’t be able to dispel the magic.
‘By securing Ulysses and sending him to the ritual site, my plan was already complete.’
Garoth smirked.
The ‘The Engraved Lie,’ a sacred relic, requires a lot of spiritual resources, hence enabling him to cast a swift and sure ‘mental magic.’
***
“Why, why isn’t there any reaction!?”
Disturbed, the priests muttered to themselves, looking at the laurel wreath placed on Ulysses’s head.
The effect of the ‘Bell of Night’ isn’t long.
Soon, the subdued magical energy would start stirring again.
Before then, I decided to deal with the nuisances first and stomped the ground.
‘Should I kill them?’
When I decided to live in the world of “Julian,” I set priorities. First priority was safety. Second was mental health. Avoiding conflict as much as possible had been my motto, but now I could justify even aggressive actions. However, before I could approach the guards, Idel, sword drawn, intercepted me.
Clang!
As our swords clashed, sparks flew. “Are you an Aura user?” Despite his rugged appearance, he seemed quite skilled. “But your strength is lacking.”
As my “Moonlight Sword” pushed back his blade with a bright light, Idel frowned. “If you want to spare your life, would stepping back be an option?”
It wasn’t something a Julian would say, but I said it to take responsibility for my “mental health.” Wouldn’t it be better if at least one person got out of here with fewer wounds?
“How amusing,” Idel laughed, catching my attention. Was there another way? He lacked both Aura powers and strength, and his swordsmanship was insufficient.
“Hmm?” For a moment, when Idel released the pressure from his sword, the balance shifted, and I began to lean towards him. He then tilted his sword, pointing the tip towards my eyes.
“This is…” I twisted my body just enough to avoid it. It was dangerous. If I hadn’t dodged, I might have been blinded or killed instantly.
“As expected, a disciple of the Sword Saint. You know how to react.” In fact, the “reaction” he mentioned wasn’t my doing; it was Julian’s body reacting automatically.
“Have you spent as much time as I have by his side?” Perhaps gaining confidence from his recent attack, this time Idel took the initiative. His swordsmanship, while not flashy, was swift and made it difficult for me to respond.
“Wise.”
Unlike before, he avoided direct clashes, instead, luring me to attack and exploiting the openings.
“How irritating.”
I started to feel annoyed by his style of swordsmanship. The restless emotions made my sword even heavier, making my movements sluggish. As a result, I couldn’t even block Idel’s sword piercing through my clothes.
“Finally, I get to see that distorted face of yours,” Idel said, pushing his sword a bit deeper with a voice filled with mockery.
“Indeed, the teachings of the Sword Saint are remarkable. In such a short time, he has given me the power to kill monsters like you,” Idel remarked as the inside of the sword he thrust began to boil like a volcano, indicating the activation of Aura.
“It seems you haven’t learned anything by his side. Well, I guess that’s understandable, given the circumstances,” I replied. “Yes… that’s why it’s unpleasant.”
The boiling wasn’t from pain. Holding Idel’s sword lodged in my chest, I raised my head to meet his gaze. “Renouncing the name of the Sword Saint and seeking asylum in the Holy Nation is nothing compared to teaching swordsmanship to trash like you,” I added, putting force on the sword stuck in my embrace.
The Aura of the Moonlight Sword couldn’t be resisted by ordinary metal, especially when the “Opened Eyes” manifested. Idel’s attack grew sharper. Finally, his sword shattered like glass.
“My… my sword…” Idel’s panicked words were cut short as my Moonblade pierced his neck.
“Why do you think the Sword Saint taught you a defensive swordsmanship like ‘Il-Do-Yusu’ in the first place?” I asked, a faint laughter escaping my lips as I watched Idel desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
His eyes filled with anger as he struggled with emotions. “Defensive swordsmanship is for the weak,” I continued, knowing precisely what his learned style meant.
“The Sword Saint never intended to teach you anything,” I concluded as blood continued to flow from Idel’s neck, staining his uniform crimson.
“Yet, the Sword Saint seems to have insight. ‘Il-Do-Yusu’… you’ve become the flowing water of a single stroke,” I joked lightly, seeing Idel’s eyes brimming with rage, a reaction he wouldn’t usually display.
But I couldn’t afford to contain the emotions that seemed about to explode. The rising blood blocked his mouth, preventing him from expressing the impending explosion of emotions. He would soon die from excessive bleeding.
Ignoring it all, I headed towards the guards. One of the terrified guards tried to retract The Engraved Lie inscribed on Ulysses’s forehead, but the Moon Circlet on his head didn’t budge easily, seemingly locked in place during his unconsciousness.
“Hmm?” As I glanced briefly at the guards, the air around me seemed peculiar.
The discomfort was akin to wriggling insects. This place, a demon’s dumping ground, felt ominously as if it had become someone’s belly.
“Cough… Cough.”
The ominous premonition was always accurate. After being used in the arena, the blood and mucus of the discarded demons began to gather around the fallen Idel.
“I should cut off his breath before this becomes a nuisance.” With that decision made, I redirected my steps from Ulysses towards Idel.
Idel, losing consciousness, didn’t see my face. With a swift motion, I pierced his heart with the Moonblade I held in my hand, and Idel, who had been groaning, soon fell silent. I didn’t feel any guilt; after all, he had targeted my life first.
Normally, I might have trembled with fear and guilt over the murder, but the heightened emotions of “Julian,” including the traits of <Poker Face> and <Opened Eyes>, seemed to mitigate it.
“…… A crest?”
At the tip of the Moonblade, I noticed a noble crest typical of the Empire on the left side of his chest. Could he be someone who sought asylum like the Sword Saint? Otherwise, there wouldn’t be an imperial crest.
“But what does it matter?”
Yeah, what does it matter? He’s already dead. His demonization wouldn’t progress further unless he harbored tremendous resentment, enough to draw the remnant thoughts of a demon.
“Now, I must finish this……”
Thump -!
Initially, I wondered if I misheard, if perhaps I could reconsider my rash actions.
Thump -!
The second time, the heartbeat sounded clear enough for me to dismiss such thoughts.
Thump -!
Idel was undoubtedly dead. Yet, despite being dead, his heart unmistakably began to beat ‘again.’ The blood of the surrounding demons coagulated into a heart, and flesh gathered to form a new body. Simultaneously, horns emerged from his head.
“Unbelievable… Damn it.”
It couldn’t be true. Even in death, he held such strong resentment to draw the remnant thoughts of a demon?
That question dissipated from Idel’s swollen body, swollen due to demonization.
On the left side of his chest, even after becoming a demon, he couldn’t conceal his family crest. There, a shield with wings and a sword were depicted.
I’ve seen this crest a long time ago.
– Come to think of it, I recently heard news that surviving members of the Hyrans family sought asylum in the Holy Nation of Fernand.
When I first became “Julian,” it was a small drawing on the list brought by Herand.
“Haha.”
Confirming it, laughter escaped my lips.
‘Julian, truly a stubborn bastard.”‘
I knew cursing now would spit on my face, but I just couldn’t bear it.
– Hah, in the Hyrans family…
With a creaking, gravelly voice, the Tri-horn demon spoke up. His eyes darted around before focusing on me.
– Glorious…
A palpable sense of intense hostility emanated from the humanoid demon.
[Trait, ‘Amazing intuition detects enemy attacks.]
‘It’s coming.’
With the notification from the trait, I prepared to launch a preemptive attack with the Moonblade. The Moonblade, unmatched in cutting power, was always a surefire strategy, as it had never been pushed back by force before. But contrary to expectations, even with the Moonblade infused with Aura, it couldn’t even scratch the Tri-horn demon’s body. The reinforced exterior of the Tri-horn demon, like armor, stubbornly resisted the aura of the Moonblade.
“……Haha.”
I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at the sight. Unlike other demons, from Tri-horn onward, they receive assistance from the game system to assign ‘names’ and ‘traits.’ The trait bestowed upon him, speculated from this confrontation, was probably Superhardening, the ability to harden his body even harder than steel. Why would he manifest such a talent against me, whose main weapon is cutting power?
“Why indeed.”
The traits bestowed upon Tri-horn are closely related to the resentment he harbored in his past life.
In other words, ‘I fucking hate it.’
Cliche Novel 