In the most desperate moments, people often feel a sense of divinity from those who grant them miracles. Even for Kalt, who had lived his whole life as an atheist, he was seriously contemplating turning to the Deloheim Church at this very moment.
“Here, smoke as much as you want.”
Puff puff.
To Kalt, it was like a miracle.
While the divine did not relieve Kalt’s fatigue, this miraculous cigarette entirely wiped away his tiredness.
“Whew…”
“Oh, this one has quite a nice aroma too. You know, doesn’t Taari 200 taste a bit strong? It feels like I’m washing away the aftertaste with this; surprisingly nice.”
“Indeed… washing the aftertaste of a cigarette with another cigarette is an unexpected method.”
After another puff of Taari 200, Kalt’s body started to go limp. LaC, watching Kalt slumped on the sofa, blew out clouds of smoke while casting a sympathetic gaze.
‘…He didn’t used to be like this.’
He used to have such bright eyes.
Where had his sharpness gone? Now he looked like a weary office worker. That dull gaze reminded LaC of someone he had seen before.
‘When I first came to the North, Natida definitely…’
When he first arrived in the North, Natida also had that same dull gaze. The weariness-laden eyes. Initially, he thought it was due to drugs… but looking at Kalt’s current state, it seemed more like sheer fatigue.
“Looks like the Hero is still the same.”
“No, it’s even worse.”
“Worse than that? It sounds terrible…”
“You must have received the letter, right? Since my senior is busy preparing for the extermination, everyone around here is getting wiped out too. There’s no time to rest. No time to rest…”
Kalt mumbled with his dull eyes, and Natida nodded vigorously as if she understood everything.
“That sounds dreadful.”
“Indeed. But what’s worse is…”
“The fact that the Hero is working several times harder than that? The superior is facing missions that are twice as hard as mine… it’s hard to relax without feeling guilty.”
“Exactly.”
Kalt snapped his fingers.
“Does your senior not get tired? That person makes staying up all night look easy. Ten nights straight, no breaks, mindlessly sweeping the battlefield… Can I really whine about staying up for just three nights?”
“I understand. Truly.”
It wasn’t just lip service.
Before Natida transferred to LaC’s assistant, she had also been Rania’s assistant. She, too, had firsthand experience with workloads that would make even superhumans tremble.
“Thank you for your hard work, I really mean it.”
In the midst of this strange bond forming between them, Kalt took a long drag and finally exhaled. He extinguished the cigarette and opened the windows for ventilation before clearing his throat lightly.
“Though it’s late in the day…”
Kalt chuckled awkwardly.
“I’m Kalt, the assistant to Hero Rania van Trias. I’m somewhat acquainted with LaC. This is my first meeting with the Saint.”
Kalt pulled out a letter from his pocket.
“The reason I was dispatched to Krampellia is to deliver this letter and to assist with the tasks written within.”
“Tasks… you mean?”
“Yeah, LaC.”
The sword (劍) that Kuntel used, and now one that Kalt inherited. The hilt of the sword bore a particular engraving. Pointing at that engraving, Kalt began to speak.
“Do you know about the Sacred Site of the Sword, Galatrik?”
It was the mission assigned to the supreme commander of Krampellia.
It was an investigation of the Sacred Site of the Sword, Galatrik.
2.
The Sacred Site of the Sword, Galatrik.
Located not far from Krampellia, it was once called a holy site but is now referred to as the Grave of the Sword. While it had birthed numerous Sword Masters, it ultimately became their grave as well.
“There is a Holy Grail there. It’s also the reason many Superhumans were produced in Galatrik. Of course, that Holy Grail is broken now and cannot fulfill its role…”
Kalt tapped the table lightly.
“The divine power contained in the Holy Grail was considered ‘necessary’ by my senior before the Exterminator campaign.”
The Exterminator campaign.
All participants had received detailed documents, so LaC and Natida were generally aware of the extermination details. LaC nodded, and Kalt continued speaking.
“Our goal is to recover that Holy Grail. In that recovery process, we necessarily need you, LaC, and…”
Kalt gestured with his eyes.
“…the current Saint, Natida. That’s you.”
“Are you talking about me?”
“The only one who could perfectly recover the broken Holy Grail would be a Saint. I’m not sure about why in your case, but…”
Kalt exhaled lightly.
“That sword you have, the one that somehow shines? A sword similar to the Death’s Blade. They say that sword is necessary.”
“I think I understand the reason.”
“There’s probably a reason that can’t be disclosed.”
Kalt smiled bitterly.
He vaguely sensed that there was information accessible only if certain conditions were met. Though he didn’t know every detail, it likely had something to do with calamity.
“Traditionally, the Sacred Site of the Sword is regarded as the resting place of the Death’s Blade, and it is considered Ganikalt’s domain where entry would risk one’s life… but that’s not the case anymore.”
Kalt pointed to the letter.
“My senior insisted that the Death’s Blade resides in a place called ‘Gehate.’ Currently, Ganikalt does not exist in Galatrik. Of course, traces left by death might still linger… but we won’t encounter calamity.”
So, Kalt snapped his fingers.
“After we break in, we just need to retrieve the Holy Grail and escape. There’s no benefit in lingering.”
“Yes, understood.”
LaC asked when they would carry out this mission. In response, Kalt answered shortly.
“Tomorrow at dawn.”
It wouldn’t be beneficial for the supreme commander to be away for too long. Given that the Demon Lord’s Army was currently restrained, Kalt emphasized the need to recover quickly.
“Well, it seems I have communicated everything…”
I’d like to catch some sleep before dawn; may I borrow the barracks? murmured Kalt absentmindedly as he suddenly shut his mouth upon seeing Natida’s face.
“…Is something bothering you?”
Her pallid complexion.
Kalt questioned Natida, who appeared suddenly pale, and she slowly opened her mouth.
“Actually…”
*
“I am a failure.”
The Paladin, Lac von Grace, said.
The Grace family, along with everything, had turned to ashes, yet he still called himself ‘Lac von Grace.’ As if he had to remain a Grace above all.
“Though he helped me, saving me time and again… I could not stand by his side.”
Crackle, the crackling bonfire.
As Lac tossed additional twigs into the fire, he spoke.
“In the moment when I was needed the most, I couldn’t be of help to him. Instead, I became a burden. I had to force him into a choice.”
The burning branches.
The ashes of the firewood.
“In the end, he chose a different path, and that led to my hometown being burned to the ground. All because of one person. All because of one swordsman… everything vanished.”
Lac grinned bitterly.
“My hometown, the warriors, those who were like brothers, my parents, everything I had to protect. I lost all of them.”
Why did he have to lose it all?
Murmured the Paladin briefly replied.
“Because I was weak.”
Weakness led him to lose everything.
“Having lost everything like this, there was no longer anything I needed to protect. Hence I was called a Paladin, and inherited the name of the Sword Demon.”
Paladin, Lac von Grace.
Another name: The Sword Demon driven by revenge.
“But here’s the funny thing.”
The crackling bonfire.
Lac gazed at the woman sitting across from him.
“I planned to use you. To utilize the traits you possess, to wound you and achieve my goals. Surely, that was my initial intent…”
The Saint, Natida.
A woman whose life was shattered by the Church. The same woman who harbors hatred against everything in the world. A drug addict incapable of maintaining her sanity without reliance on holy relics.
“Yet, for some reason, that’s no longer possible.”
“…Is that so?”
“Yes, it has turned that way.”
Lac sighed deeply.
“I found myself wanting to protect you instead.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Oddly enough.”
“You must be mad. What do you gain from protecting me?”
“Indeed.”
He shouldn’t stand to gain anything.
It should be nothing but a hindrance to achieving his goals.
Murmuring this, Lac let out a chuckle.
“Maybe it seems I’ve taken a liking to you.”
“You have quite the peculiar taste.”
Natida laughed. She was already a broken woman. An addict soaked in drugs, treated like a dog by the Church. A wretched body that couldn’t even survive without the remedy provided by the Church.
What on earth did he find so appealing in her?
“Even I don’t know my worth. What value do you see in me…?”
“Do such things need to be necessary? In a world where value continuously diminishes, I find myself attracted to you.”
“What a superficial confession.”
“Is that so?”
“It can’t be helped. Even if I just bit your face off, I imagine I would enjoy it for ten years.”
Natida chuckled softly and moved closer, no longer sitting across but beside Lac. Leaning her head on his shoulder, Natida spoke.
“Tomorrow, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Do we really have to do this?”
“I don’t think you’ll get hurt.”
“I mean, what about you?”
“…I should be fine.”
“I don’t think you’ll be fine.”
“Still, let’s make a promise.”
Lac stated.
“No matter what situation arises, I will protect you above all.”
The moment those words echoed in her ears, Natida opened her eyes. Upon waking, she realized it wasn’t the bonfire she saw but a familiar ceiling. Slowly rising from her lying position, Natida let out a small sigh.
“…Phew.”
Her clothes were soaked in cold sweat.
Natida reached out and took a cigarette from the shelf, lighting it. Sizzle Crack. As she burned the cigarette, she wiped away the cold sweat. It was that dream again.
Whether it was foresight or delusion, she didn’t know, but she was aware of what came next in the broken dream.
In the dream, Lac kept his promise. But he did not return. In the operation, Lac was used as bait to buy time and ultimately met his death.
…Was it a coincidence or was it inevitable?
In the dream, Natida found herself in Kirmelt Canyon.
In the Kirmelt Canyon, while kindling a bonfire, she waited for something alongside Lac. Their given mission was to stop a certain being trying to pass through Kirmelt Canyon.
The scenery she saw in the dream.
Now, the task at hand to retrieve the Holy Grail collided in her mind with swirling confusion.
“…What on earth.”
Natida ruffled her hair.
What exactly did she see in that dream?
It was too different from the present to be foresight. From the beginning, she was rescued by Rania, not Lac. She hadn’t broken down like in the dream, and Lac’s family also remained intact.
Then is this merely a delusion?
However, it felt too vivid to be a delusion…
“Ugh.”
Natida furrowed her brow.
What she saw at the end of the dream. The unknown being that appeared in the Kirmelt Canyon came to mind. Just by recalling it, blood trickled from Natida’s nose.
She couldn’t recall its form.
The only thing she could remember was its name.
The name of the being that Lac had grit his teeth and called out in the dream, Natida spoke it aloud.
“…Yeocheon.”
The Sword of Yeocheon.
Lac called it that.
3.
“The Sword of Yeocheon… is that so?”
Yes, senpai.
Through the emergency communication circuit came Kalt’s contact.
Kalt spoke. The saint, Natida, had a dream, and in that dream, she saw the scene of Lac meeting his death due to the ‘Sword of Yeocheon.’
I pretended not to know at that moment, but if it’s the Sword of Yeocheon…
Kalt was aware.
He had encountered the Sword of Yeocheon before.
It must be Kyle Toven, right?
LaNiel fell silent.
That was a future lost to time. Kyle wasn’t recorded as the Sword of Yeocheon but as a ‘Hero.’ In today’s world, it couldn’t possibly be a present occurrence.
But that wasn’t the crucial point.
“The important thing is that girl saw the future.”
Natida herself seemed confused about whether it was foresight or delusion, but LaNiel knew. What Natida witnessed was indeed the future.
‘Even if that future may never occur.’
In one form or another, it indicated that Natida had foresight.
And there’s only been one case in hundreds of years where foresight manifested in the form of a dream.
“The Death’s Blade, Ganikalt.”
Foresight has always pointed toward death.
“…”
LaNiel silently unfurled a map.
The marked points on the map remained still. The Death’s Blade still lingered in Gehate. He waited there for his end, showing no signs of movement.
It was also a kind of contract.
LaNiel pinched the bridge of her nose.
After a moment’s contemplation, she finally spoke.
