Chapter 68
The closer Yuriene got to Ajenka, the more unbearable the stench became. The moment she smelled it, Yuriene felt a premonition. Seeing the corpses strewn across the blood-soaked ramparts, her premonition became a certainty.
It wasn't difficult to find her. The Demon of the Demon Sword was blatantly revealing her presence.
Yuriene dismounted and walked.
He had been sent away from the Imperial Palace at the age of sixteen and arrived in Ajenka. He had lived in Ajenka ever since.
Alone until he was eighteen, the minimum age for entering the Military Academy, then as a Military Cadet, then as a Squire of Baron, as a Knight, as the captain of the royal guard. He had lived in Ajenka for fifteen years.
Limbs and entrails of unknown origin lay scattered at his feet. His nose was already numb to the stench of rotting corpses.
Dried bloodstains, pools of blood that had not yet dried despite the passage of time. Fragments of the dead. The bodies of those who had been murdered.
The city where he had grown up and taken root, the city he had protected and cultivated, had become a vast tomb.
Yuriene traversed that hell like a dying soul. Even though everything was silent, he could hear vivid screams in his ears.
He reached the central square. The angel statue in the center of the fountain, holding the Holy Sword, bled blood instead of water.
Corpses that had not been dead for long were hanging from the top of the angel statue. Yuriene immediately recognized who they were.
His friend and the woman his friend had loved. Two Giosa Owners were on the angel statue. The large, decaying corpse at the base of the fountain was the vice-captain of the royal guard, who had once been his lord. The corpses were displayed as if they had been deliberately placed there.
1632, autumn, Ajenka.
In front of the blood-soaked fountain.
Yuriene faced the woman who had destroyed everything he loved. Her dark hair fluttered as she laughed. Black Mana swirled around her.
Despite having lost everything, he couldn't resent her. He couldn't even be angry. Even if everyone in the world hated her, he couldn't hate her.
She had become a Demon because of him, so how could he dare to resent her?
Just a bleak despair. Sorrow entered with each breath like a foul odor. It burned his throat as it went down and dug into his chest. It was so overwhelming that even tears wouldn't come.
If only he could go back to the past, if only he could go back to that banquet hall, if only he could go back to before he left Ajenka. Meaningless hypotheticals. Fate had already reached an irreversible point.
He activated True Sight. Beyond the surging malice, her soul was wailing. The spark that had been a faint seed when he first saw it was now burning brightly, filling her soul.
That radiant soul writhed, her cheeks covered in tears.
Even though it had become so intense, the swamp-like malice was even thicker. The pitch-black malice strangled her neck, entangled her limbs, and swallowed her whole.
He could see her desperate struggles in detail. Because she had chosen to burn instead of collapse, she was still not free from pain.
It would be easier if she just gave up.
Not knowing that the one standing before her was the culprit who had made her that way, she looked at him with desperate eyes…
Yuriene closed his eyes. He bit his lip until it bled. All the blood that remained in his body seemed to have drained away, and his entire body was cold. He felt like a corpse, even though he was still alive. Or perhaps, he was already a corpse.
"I..."
A groan-like word escaped from his parted lips. The word was not completed.
I made you like this.
I ruined your life. This hell is ultimately what I called forth. You are not to blame. I just glanced at you for a moment. It was a small curiosity. I didn't know it would bring about such a tragedy. I didn't know it would turn you into a Demon. I even quickly forgot about it.
I, not even knowing who was to blame for you suffering this pain, dared to pity you. To offer you a chance, to act as if I was bestowing a favor, was a terribly arrogant and foolish thing to do. I was ignorant and stupid.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Really. I don't know how to apologize to you.
I don't even know if this is something that can be atoned for. I don't know what to do now. Really, I'm sorry.
Just, I'm sorry.
A sensation like his heart was being seared. He couldn't continue speaking. It was as if something was stuck in his throat, and no words would come out. The Holy Sword quietly whispered.
[It can't be helped now. You have to kill that woman. But get out of here first, you can't beat her alone. Gather other people and respond.]
Yuriene didn't listen to the words. He felt like everything was collapsing. Or perhaps, everything had already collapsed. He drew Rangiosa.
[You idiot, you're going to die!]
The Holy Sword raised its voice. It was unusual for the Holy Sword, which was usually calm. Yuriene ignored the words and raised the white sword.
He felt it was ridiculous that he could wield this sword. Justice? What justice? Where is justice here?
She approached him, wielding the Demon Sword Bardelgiosa. Yuriene opened True Sight wide. The malice was so thick that keeping True Sight open strained his eyes and hindered his combat, but he didn't close True Sight.
Throughout the fight, he looked at her with True Sight. He didn't take his eyes off the woman who was screaming inaudibly.
He didn't even know her name. But he knew her efforts that no one else would know. He couldn't turn away, and he didn't want to turn away. He engraved her image in his eyes.
Until the moment he was defeated, dropped the Holy Sword, was pierced by the Demon Sword, and breathed his last breath.
He didn't close his eyes.
* * *
It was a long darkness.
Dawn of March 17, 1629.
Yurien de Harden Kirie opened his eyes in his bedroom. He lay still for a while. The familiar ceiling felt endlessly foreign. He blinked a few times and slowly raised his hand to look at it.
Faint moonlight streamed in from outside the window. His clean hand had not a single drop of blood on it. The familiar golden pattern was clear on his palm.
Yuriene got out of bed. He groped at his chest, where he had clearly been stabbed, confirmed that it was fine, and then got out of bed. He lit the lamp. The light spread out, illuminating the room. It was the captain's residence in Ajenka, where he had stayed for several years.
'...Residence?'
The Azure Knights had accommodations more luxurious than most noble's mansions. But no matter how well-decorated it was, the accommodation was ultimately a communal living space, so most Knights found a mansion in Ajenka and commuted from there. Only a few Knights who weren't very interested in having a home lived in the accommodation.
Yuriene had lived in the accommodation when he was a Knight, and as soon as he became the captain of the royal guard, he moved to the mansion that had been provided to the captains of the royal guard for generations. That was the residence he was in now. He had lived here ever since becoming the captain of the royal guard.
But from the beginning of 1632, he had left the residence and stayed in the captain's room in the accommodation. Staying in the royal guard's accommodation allowed him to visit the dungeon where she was imprisoned more often.
It had been well over half a year since he had used the residence. He didn't know why he was here.
In the first place, he couldn't understand how he was still alive. He had clearly died.
Yuriene blankly looked around and then checked his chest again. The terrible pain and the sensation of falling endlessly downward still remained, but the heart that had been pierced by Bardelgiosa was beating healthily.
He looked down at his right hand and called for the Holy Sword.
"Rangiosa."
The Holy Sword did not answer. He called for the Holy Sword a little louder.
"Rang, wake up."
He called out several more times, but the Holy Sword remained silent.
Yuriene drew his sword. The pure white sword, with its hilt and blade made of a single metal, glowed softly.
He gripped the sword and amplified his Mana. He also activated True Sight.
Everything was normal, and Yuriene was still the owner of the Holy Sword. But Rangiosa didn't wake up, as if it was asleep. He couldn't understand why.
Dawn passed and morning came. Yuriene soon realized that it was March 17, 1629.
He had died in the autumn of 1632, but when he opened his eyes, nearly three and a half years had gone back in time.
Ajenka, which had been like hell, was in the midst of a vibrant daily life. People were busily moving around. Dietrich, who was not yet a Giosa Owner, clicked his tongue at him, asking why he was so spaced out today.
Teresa had left on a mission, and Baron was sparring with his Squire, Baraha. All of them were people who had died.
He couldn't understand what had happened. He tried to figure out the situation.
The first thing he looked for was information about the Demon of the Demon Sword. When he asked what had happened to Bardelgiosa, Vice-Captain Baron asked back with a puzzled expression.
"Hasn't Bardelgiosa been missing for a long time?"
"…Hasn't it appeared?"
"Although members periodically go on Giosa pilgrimages, I don't think there has been any news about Bardelgiosa for over ten years. Have you heard something?"
Yuriene stared blankly at the documents. The documents that Baron had brought for approval clearly stated the date as March 17, 1629. It was the day the Demon of the Demon Sword had first appeared.
'Did the news not reach Ajenka yet because it had just appeared?'
That's what he thought at first. But even after several days had passed, there was no news about the Demon of the Demon Sword. He deliberately collected information from the southern part of the Empire where the Demon had appeared, but there was no news of massacres, let alone suspicious deaths.
The Demon seemed to not exist. Daily life continued extremely peacefully. The Holy Sword was still silent.
Yuriene was starting to go a little crazy.
'Was it a dream? All of those things?'
Could it have just been a vivid and long dream? A terrible nightmare. He had such doubts.
'If it was a dream… If it was just a dream, then yes, that would be better.'
The memories were too clear to be a dream. The moment he recalled them, his whole body would turn cold and he would feel as if his heart had been pierced. In fact, it was so terribly clear that he wanted it to be a dream even more.
He was suddenly worried about the Holy Sword being silent, but it would still be better if it was a dream. He hoped that all of those things were just a nightmare, rather than things that had really happened.
If it was all true, if it was the future that was about to come, wouldn't it be too miserable?
The future had already been twisted by the fact that the Demon had not appeared. So he tried to forget it, repeating to himself that it was just a dream.
The hardest thing to forget was 'her' existence.
He didn't look for her. Such a thing had happened with just one glance. And since that was at the birthday banquet in 1628, it must have already happened now.
He was afraid of what would happen if he looked for her, not just one glance.
Or maybe, just maybe, she herself was just someone who existed in his dream. Maybe the memories of the birthday banquet were also part of that long dream. He also had such thoughts.
Maybe it was really just an illusion. Even in that misery, it was strange that an existence that didn't collapse, but rather burned intensely, was real.
Nearly a month passed peacefully.
