〈 Chapter 275 〉 The Undying Human (Part 1）
*
The cross-shaped coffin that Karioth carries is originally a sheath for a single sword. He has stored a blood-red cross-shaped great sword inside the coffin.
“Well, it sounds good in words.”
Karioth spoke as he bore the coffin.
“But I can’t just send back those more capable than me from the battlefield just because they’re young. I once insisted on that when I was young and got beaten up pretty badly.”
Karioth tugged at the cross draped around his neck.
“To do what you believe is right, strong power is necessary. Powerless beliefs are nothing but a fantasy.”
“…I agree.”
“Right, that’s why I aim to become a Superhuman. Hero.”
Every individual wishing to become a Superhuman has their own beliefs. They have their own objectives. For some, it might be revenge; for others, it’s keeping a promise; for still others, it’s about a rematch.
Karioth was no different.
He also has promises to keep and goals to achieve. He wishes for something and desires to become a Superhuman. Touching the cross ornament, Karioth continued speaking.
“When I become a Superhuman, when I become the strongest in the world… I’ll be able to say it proudly, right?”
He smirked.
“Weaker and younger ones can just get lost on the battlefield. Until you all enjoy what you need to, this uncle will remain on the battlefield.”
Karioth’s smile was refreshing.
He looked more like a neighborhood uncle than a soldier who had spent twenty years in the Phantom Territory.
“How wonderful that life would be. That’s my dream. A promise I made with my wife.”
“…Is that so?”
“Exactly, so.”
Taking a step forward, Karioth spread his arms wide.
One arm around Galahal’s neck and the other around Rania’s, he said in a calming voice.
“Don’t walk around with faces as if you’ve lived your whole lives already, young ones. You look like you’ve never truly enjoyed life and yet you walk around grimacing as if you’re about to die, it hurts this uncle’s heart.”
Like you’re about to die.
At those words, Galahal and Rania fell silent. There was a prick of recognition. Seeing the expressions hardening on their faces, Karioth smiled bitterly.
“Life, what’s it really about?”
He lightly patted Rania and Galahal on the shoulders and let them go.
“Live while enjoying it. Enjoy yourselves.”
2.
Karioth’s trials took place every two days for a reason.
“Sorry, but I can only use this sword once every thirty-seven hours. It sounds complex…”
“I heard from Raniel oppa. Do it that way.”
I nodded.
I knew the characteristics of the magic sword that Karioth held… or rather, the sword he claimed was a Holy Sword.
‘Thirty-seven seconds of use, and a thirty-seven-hour cycle.’
A magic sword usable for 37 seconds, with a 37-hour cycle. That law was absolute, and there were no exceptions even within the trials of the Holy Grail.
“Thank you for understanding, young lady.”
“What’s the trial like?”
“Mm, it’s certainly not easy. If I’m going to make a decisive blow, it has to be within those 37 seconds, which isn’t an easy task.”
After attempting the trial once, Karioth stroked his chin.
“Still, there’s a glimmer of possibility.”
“Really?”
“I haven’t seen a wall for about ten years, and the wall has been broken down considerably. I’m starting to grasp the super-sensitivity.”
Having lived on the battlefield for a long time, Karioth was close to becoming a Superhuman. With his faint awakening to super-sensitivity, the likelihood of passing the trial seemed high.
“What kind of trial did you face?”
“Hmm, do I have to explain? If necessary, I will.”
At my question, Karioth scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
His reaction suggested that it was a part he didn’t want to invade, so I didn’t ask further.
“Thank you for your consideration, young lady.”
During his stay at Kateron Castle, Karioth mingled well with the knights without incident. Occasionally sparring with knights, he blended seamlessly in, but…
“Hey, you there.”
There are always some individuals who can’t blend in with others.
“Can you come here for a second?”
Saint Sara.
It had been three days since the pink-haired woman had come to Kateron Castle with Karioth. She called me aside.
*
“Am I a dog? Do I come just because you call me?”
“Who’d have thought the sympathy magic user’s disciple would talk so vulgarly? Did you stuff a rag in your mouth?”
I raised my right hand with my middle finger and combined my left hand’s ring and middle finger to point at Sara. It was a hand gesture filled with blasphemous insults, but it hardly seemed to have any effect.
“Is it just me, or do you sound just like Raniel? Ugh, enough.”
Sara brushed her hair back as if tired.
“I don’t want to say a word to you either, you know?”
“Then why are you calling me here? What’s with the bad mood?”
“Because Kyle has something to relay to you. I’m just here to deliver that.”
…Kyle, that guy?
Sara sighed, pulling a necklace out from her robe. The old pendant was rusted and couldn’t be described as fashionable even in jest.
The moment I saw that pendant, my brow furrowed.
“…He told you to give this to me?”
“To be more precise, it’s for your master, Raniel. Do you know what this is? I’ve seen Kyle with it a few times…”
Of course, I knew.
Years after our hometown burned down, we returned once. That day, among the ashes, we salvaged a few items that hadn’t been burnt, this necklace was one of them.
“It’s a memento. My father gave it to my mother, but it has become a keepsake now.”
Kyle said that.
Then he hung the rust-stained pendant around his neck, and I still remember the bitter expression on Kyle’s face.
“I won’t forget. Absolutely.”
It was an unspoken statement, but understanding it was not difficult.
‘I won’t forget the tragedy that happened in my hometown.’
At that time, Kyle seemed to pledge that while wearing his parents’ keepsake.
‘But why now?’
Why give it to me?
Does this mean he’s going to reverse his pledge? Does it mean he’s forgotten? Or what does it even mean?
I couldn’t read his intentions.
Furrowing my brows, I looked up at Sara. She was waving the necklace in front of me.
“Can’t you hear me? Do you know what this is?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Well, of course I don’t. Kyle just handed me this necklace with no explanation. To give it to you.”
It seemed Sara wasn’t aware of the pendant’s significance.
I snatched the necklace she was waving.
“Stop waving it around.”
“…What? What’s the matter? It’s just an old necklace.”
“Seriously… ugh, forget it.”
I sighed and brushed my hair back.
“Is there nothing else? Anything else to convey?”
“He just handed me the necklace without saying anything.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
He was the kind of guy who’d add a comment or throw a meaningful statement. While pondering over the necklace, Sara opened her mouth.
“…You know, you.”
Sara stepped closer to me.
“What exactly are you to him?”
She pointed a finger at me.
“What do you mean by speaking like you know Kyle well? What’s your relationship with him?”
This was a frantic voice devoid of the guise of a saint. Her sharp voice was laced with raw emotion.
‘Isn’t that the same voice she had at the start of the journey when she was quarreling with that Ear Girl?…’
There was a time when Sara fought with Remia, tearing at hair over Kyle. I could hear the same frantic tone coming from her now.
‘…Why?’
I blinked, bewildered.
I understood her frustration, but the unmistakable feeling of jealousy was obvious. Jealousy towards someone who possesses what she doesn’t.
Why the jealousy towards me?
“It’s just nothing, that you act all high and mighty simply because you’re the sympathy magic user’s disciple… tsk.”
Sara clicked her tongue.
“Can you not flirt with Kyle?”
…What?
“What did you say?”
I tilted my head.
“What did you just say?”
“Don’t flirt with him. Do you think acting aloof will catch his interest? Seriously…”
Flirt with him?
My head tilted further in confusion.
“Me? Flirt? With that jerk?”
“Really?”
Sara scoffed with a ‘humph.’
“Seems like everyone thinks so.”
Wow.
“Wow… wait a minute. Wow, no…”
I let out a hollow chuckle and wiped my face.
The hollow laugh shifted to irritation in an instant.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Come here, you little idiot.
3.
“Urgh, uhhhhhh!”
Sara looked at her reflection in the mirror, repeatedly stomping the floor with the heel of her shoes.
“That crazy girl, she’s really insane…!”
Her pale skin was bruised, and her once glossy pink hair was a mess. All of this was due to that madwoman pulling her hair and suddenly punching her cheek.
Gritting her lips, she recited a holy incantation. Like healing magic developed for cosmetic purposes, the swelling went down and her hair regained its sheen. But the chunks of hair that were lost would not return. The fallen hair couldn’t be recovered even by the saint’s spells.
“Rania, Rania van Trias…”
Spitting the girl’s name, Sara gritted her teeth.
She truly had no understanding of her identity. Was there another person besides Raniel who could treat the saint this way?
“Could she be Raniel, truly?”
She was close to the truth but shook her head, shaking off the thought. Deloheim had deemed the change of spirit and flesh ‘impossible,’ so that would be out of the question.
‘Kyle and Remia too…’
They treat that girl specially.
Recently, even Remia refrained from bad-mouthing the girl while saying, ‘A human cherished by the Elven Master.’
That attitude made Sara very uncomfortable.
Even the simple fact that Kyle takes an interest in that girl, or that she acts haughty in front of Kyle, was bothersome to her.
But more than anything, what annoyed her was.
The way Kyle had changed since meeting that girl.
“Ugh…”
Sara sighed deeply, pinching her temples. There was something she wasn’t aware of. She thought she knew Kyle well, but lately, she felt she didn’t know anything at all.
After repeatedly sighing, Sara suddenly gulped. Something caught her eye.
“…”
Sara narrowed her eyes.
Her gaze was directed at a steep angle downward. Blessed by the star, her eyes usually pick up on the unhealthy. What she saw in the greenish eyes was fog.
There was something in the fog.
An ominous something was approaching.
Calmly, holding a sword.
*
In the underground passageway leading from Kateron Castle.
The soldiers guarding that area suddenly woke up to the sound of footsteps coming from afar.
“…Did you hear that sound?”
“I heard it too.”
One by one, the soldiers opened their eyes.
They strained to listen to where the sound of footsteps was coming from.
‘It’s one person.’
Just one set of footsteps.
As the footsteps drew closer, a terrible stench wafted through the air. The soldiers frowned and grabbed the spears they had leaned against in the corridor.
The stench of rotting flesh.
The stench of a being that could neither live nor die.
This was the stink of the Undead.
Where did an Undead crawl into the underground passageway? The soldiers frowned as they finally caught sight of the approaching Undead.
Just one shouldn’t be much trouble.
Due to the darkness, the Undead’s appearance was hard to discern. However, nonetheless, the fact remained that it was an object to kill. One soldier stepped forward.
“Let’s kill it quickly and get some rest.”
Muttering that, the soldier launched his spear at the approaching Undead. Thwap. A sound of something falling echoed.
What fell was the soldier’s head.
Splurt!
With a spray of blood, the soldier’s body tilted sideways. Then, splash. The body sank into the passageway.
“…Huh?”
The soldiers’ eyes widened.
Too late now, they attempted to stab with their spears, but it was already too late.
Thwap, then splash.
Only light sounds echoed in succession.
None of them could scream. The bodies of the soldiers whose heads were severed fell to the bottom of the passageway.
“W-What?!”
A knight standing behind the soldiers dashed forward, gripping his weapon. Beyond the collapsing corpses, a face of the approaching Undead came into view.
“…Why are you?”
The moment he encountered that face, terror painted the knight’s expression.
That was the end.
Once again, thwap, followed by a light sound, the knight’s body crumbled. It’s only natural. In front of the Superhuman’s blade, knights and soldiers were merely humans.
The sword continued to swing.
Although it didn’t cut the air, the blade effortlessly sliced through everything that blocked its path in the underground. No one could see the trajectory the sword drew. Since they couldn’t see it, they couldn’t stop it.
The result produced wasn’t loud. It was quiet.
Only the sound of water flowing through the passage echoed.
Before long, the water had been tinged red. The bodies of humans floated upon the water.
Thwap, again thwap.
There was no way to stop the sounds ringing out in succession.
Sunk in the passageway, the knight gazed at the Undead’s back with hollow eyes. He beheld the figure of one who was even a blasphemy to call Undead.
The individual known as the strongest in human history since ancient times.
The only human to have touched Death’s Blade.
The last survivor of Kirmelt Canyon.
However, now he had fallen from grace as a Superhuman.
The Sword Master Kuntel.
He had returned to Kateron Castle.
*
