Squish, squish.
In the jungle.
Squelching over the wet terrain, Lilien and the Royal Guard knights cautiously surveyed their surroundings.
Where is he…
Lilien swallowed dryly, tension etched across her face.
Five hundred.
Even if she was weaker than Rexton, she had brought five hundred knights. That was a staggering number of elite guards assigned to protect the Empress—now deployed here.
We just have to find him. Just find him…
She was anxious. More than concern for Rexton’s safety, she was uneasy about having pulled so many troops away from Empress Tia’s side.
We need to finish the mission and return quickly.
Right now, they had no reliable allies.
Great powers targeted Ezer, and the deranged remnants of the former Hero’s party posed a constant, unpredictable threat.
It wouldn't be strange if Tia were attacked at any moment.
“Captain, if this takes any longer, we may need to retreat,” her adjutant said, brows furrowed with concern.
“Even if it’s a direct order from Her Majesty, we’ve pulled too many elites off the front. If this is some ploy by the enemy…”
“Shh!”
Lilien raised a finger to her lips.
The adjutant cut off his words reflexively.
There.
Lilien turned her gaze toward a spot beyond the trees. Faint silhouettes were visible.
Snap!
The adjutant followed her line of sight and raised his fist. Immediately, the knights behind them froze.
Clatter.
The only sound now was the faint creaking of armor as knights adjusted their stances. Even their breathing had gone silent.
Gear suited for swamps… no, these are built for palace defense, not field combat.
Despite being elite, these knights were trained for a different battlefield. Facing barbarians in terrain like this was a burden.
They could’ve removed their armor, but everything they wore was blessed by the Holy Alliance.
It was ironic, but that blessing was a comfort in situations like this. Even if those blessings came from an enemy now, they still offered protection from enemy blades.
That was something they couldn’t easily give up.
Clink!
Lilien raised her sword.
Then, without a word, she brought it down—and the knights charged in unison.
♧
The Hero was humanity’s savior.
And also its great mediator.
“Haaah, haaah… Khaahahaha!”
Gagaro.
The commander from Yaphennon laughed as he watched the battered Rexton, Knight Commander of Ezer, struggling to stay upright.
“Look at you, Rexton!”
He spread his arms wide and shouted.
“Your defeat was sealed from the start!”
And it was true.
The Royal Knights were on the verge of collapse. They had lost their horses to the swamp terrain and were being overwhelmed by the barbarian soldiers who knew the landscape well.
Caught off guard by an ambush in such an unfavorable environment—it had become more than just an excuse for losing. It was nearly an admission of failure.
Ridiculous.
If they had been fully prepared, this never would’ve happened.
This is mostly my fault for not seeing it coming.
He should’ve been wary the moment Krata had let them go so easily.
Or maybe… not.
No one could predict everything. Rexton could only give a bitter smile.
“What’s so funny, Rexton?” Gagaro growled, raising his twin axes.
“Is it because you’ve got less than a hundred men left?”
“If the Hero were still alive,”
Rexton smirked,
“Vermin like you wouldn’t be running wild like this.”
He had once upheld the world’s balance. Through strength, through honor, through duty.
Rexton missed those days—when everything was resolved under that man’s name.
“Still…”
He gritted his teeth, raising his aura-infused blade once more.
“I’m not here to whine in front of an enemy.”
“Hah! Trying to put on a last bit of bravado—”
That was when it happened.
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter. Clatter…
A different kind of armor sound echoed from behind—the kind the barbarians didn’t wear.
“!”
Shing! Slash!
“Gaaaah!”
“Ughk?!”
“A-Ambush—ghk!”
Lilien and the Royal Guard burst out from behind, encircling Gagaro’s troops like a tidal wave.
“What?!”
Gagaro’s face twisted in rage as he realized he was now surrounded on both sides by Ezer’s forces.
“Eyes forward, Gagaro.”
Clang!
Gagaro had already grown weary from the extended battle.
Rexton knew this.
Clash! Kaang!
Amid the chaos, Rexton pushed forward, slashing repeatedly toward Gagaro. The barbarian flailed his twin axes in defense, stumbling back step by step.
Watching Gagaro dart his eyes around in confusion to grasp the battlefield—Rexton found it almost amusing.
But this was the moment.
—He’ll step back, then cross his axes and strike forward.
A memory.
Back when Rexton had once joked about how impossible it was to end a fight against these endlessly brawling barbarians, Clay had offered advice.
—They’ll aim for the biggest, easiest target—the torso.
Clay had told him it was a common reflex for twin-axe wielders when flustered.
—Just between us, Commander. That’s how you end it.
Even that had been part of Clay’s effort to maintain balance.
Rexton remembered Clay’s smile as he swung his sword high and straight.
He aimed for the head—right as Gagaro crossed his axes and lunged for Rexton’s abdomen.
“Gugh!”
The long blade pierced Gagaro’s throat before he could even process what was happening.
“G-Gghk?”
A blank, stunned expression. He couldn’t comprehend what had just occurred.
Rexton stood frozen as well.
—Your swordsmanship is all about precision, Commander.
Clay had tailored the counter for Rexton’s long, sharp blade.
Not that Clay had ever told him to kill.
Thud.
Gagaro’s twin axes dropped as he fell to his knees, still wearing that confused expression.
“…Haah.”
Boldness—or perhaps recklessness.
That was the only way this victory had been possible.
Clench.
Still, the duel had ended.
With the technique learned from the remnants of the Mediator.
“Let’s go.”
Drawing his blade from Gagaro’s neck with effort, Rexton turned and began walking—toward the battle that followed his hard-won victory.
♧
“He was that strong?”
Barungenia.
After Clay descended into the underground with Lin and Goltche, Cardin stood beside Beatrice, who was seated at a tea table, passing the time in silence.
“That strong?”
Beatrice chuckled at Cardin’s question, clearly born of boredom.
“Well, I suppose you never got to fight him during his days as the Hero.”
Cardin had only ever been the Shadow Blade of the Demon King. He was never meant to be deployed openly, let alone to fight the Hero head-on.
“He was strong. Truly.”
Even the Demon King—deemed the incarnation of all worldly evil—couldn’t surpass the Hero’s might.
Clay had been an enigma.
Though just an orphan raised in a rural backwater, he possessed holy power that easily eclipsed that of high-ranking priests. His integrity was unshakable—immune even to enchantments.
With a body that seemed crafted for heroism itself, he never faltered on the battlefield. Every swing of his sword was so sharp and decisive, it made even demonkind feel like brittle clumps of mud.
Whatever stood in his path was cut down without mercy.
The demons feared him. Envied him. Some even revered him more than the Demon King.
“I wish you could’ve seen it for yourself.”
The aura might be different now, but—
“His strength was more fitting to call a divine authority than mere power.”
As she smiled faintly, Cardin swallowed dryly.
Divine authority… huh.
She had never used that term. Not even after witnessing the Demon King’s despair-inducing power.
At least, not to his knowledge.
Just how ignorant have I been?
He had lived as the Demon King’s shadow, overseeing the final refuge for the army when their path came to an end.
Though he knew of the Hero’s reputation, he had never felt it firsthand—something that now filled him with unease.
I’ll be at his side from now on. I should’ve known more.
Because he had been ignorant, he had been rude.
Because he didn’t trust, he had doubted.
Only after crossing blades with Clay did he realize the man stood beyond the limits of ordinary humans.
But strength alone wouldn’t be enough to lead the Demon King’s army.
What Beatrice had just shared—the Hero’s commanding presence—that was what they truly needed now.
“…I hope I’ll see it for myself.”
That was all he could say. And as if on cue, he wouldn’t have to wait long to witness Clay’s authority.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom!
Heavy stomps echoed through the stone hallway—like boulders crashing through rock—until a single gargoyle flung the doors open and stormed into the room.
『Agent of the Dark One!』
“Hmm?”
Beatrice paused, teacup halfway to her lips, and turned toward the gargoyle chieftain, Goe, who shouted in haste.
『Disaster! The very thing we feared… it’s come true!』
Disaster.
Without waiting for details, Beatrice stood up from her seat.
“Is it outside?”
『Yes.』
“How many?”
『Just one. But the number doesn’t matter.』
Beatrice tilted her head slightly.
“Then what?”
『The Dark One’s weapon has come looking for its master.』
In that instant, silence fell across the room.
“Weapon…?”
Cardin’s eyes widened as he looked at Beatrice. She, too, set down her teacup on the table with deliberate calm.
“Seems our tea time is over.”
She sighed and began walking.
“Let’s not keep a lost child waiting.”
♧
Barungenia.
Outside the fortress, in the desolate field before the gates, countless gargoyles had gathered, murmuring in a low hum.
『They said it was broken.』
『And yet it has returned.』
『The monstrous specter of the Dark One…』
What lay before them—was a sword.
A demonic blade, its entire length bathed in black.
The most powerful weapon of the Demon King. The very banner that had once raised the morale of the Demon King’s army.
And holding it, arm hanging low with the sword’s tip resting on the ground, was a lone figure of shadow cast from the blade itself.
Black hair flowed like ink. Only its eyes—glowing crimson—broke the monotone as they stared straight ahead.
—Where is my master?
But its master no longer existed in this world.
『The Dark One…』
『He has passed on.』
The gargoyles murmured with stiff expressions.
『There’s no one left who can wield you.』
—Kyaaaaaaaah!
Suddenly, tears of red light poured from the weapon’s eyes.
Crack!
A jagged fracture split across the demonic blade.
It had come here—its own broken form barely held together—to seek its master.
—KYAAAAAH!
Despair.
Overwhelming, suffocating sorrow poured out as the being screamed.
There had been only one man—standing at the summit of all magic—who could command such a cursed entity.
And now that he was gone, no one remained who could understand its true form.
BOOOOM!
The being suddenly stopped screaming and drove the blade into the ground.
『Graaagh!』
A tremor burst outward, flinging dozens of gargoyles into the air alongside shattered earth.
—Give him back. My…
It howled.
—Give him back!!
“You had to show up right when patience was most required.”
A voice rang out.
The weapon turned its head toward the speaker.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who needs someone to walk with.”
Beatrice.
Baring her fangs, she looked the weapon straight in the eye.
“Clay’s going to need more than just the Holy Sword, after all.”
(End of Chapter)