༺ The Lord Is With Us (48) ༻
There were all sorts of rumors about demonic humans.
In fact, some people even doubted their existence. Thousands of years had passed since the War of Gods and Demons and the congregation of the Dark Order had long since hidden its traces.
However, the nobles knew. They knew that demonic humans were not existences in mere legends.
The extent of their power still remained a mystery.
Some claimed that a demonic human could single-handedly take on an entire company of Knights, while others believed it would take an entire army to defeat one.
Yet, all of them agreed on one thing.
At the very least, Demonic humans were not to be confronted alone.
They were beings who willingly sacrificed something precious to them in exchange for power from the Evil God Omeros. They were the advance guard that led the ground invasion of Delphirem and the rulers of the demonic beasts.
It was only fitting for their power to match their positions.
And right now, on the battlefield, I was directly witnessing that very truth, far clearer than anyone else.
In the air, droplets of blood traced a solid line.
I looked away for just a split second, but without missing a beat, his claws sliced through the air, leaving a deep gash on my cheek.
Had I moved a second later, my head would have exploded into the air rather than just the drops of blood from my cheek.
I didn’t have the luxury to calmly assess the opponent’s skills. The claws were already swinging at high speed, targeting my head once again.
At this rate, I had no viable solutions. No matter how many times I swung my sword to fend off the attacks, I was continually pushed backward.
I had only one sword, but my opponent had two hands. That was the main cause for the drastic difference in speed between us.
Moreover, the demonic beast’s arms and claws were exceptionally long, giving it an absolute advantage in reach.
My breathing had already become as labored as it could get; Scars adorned every corner of my body.
I was already close to my limit.
I had no choice but to swear out loud as I threw my body to the ground.
“…Holy fuck!”
The shout was more of a scream. As I rolled on the ground, solid silver streaks were left behind in the air, and a bluish afterglow lingered where the silver lines had been etched.
It was aura. The halo of light I had seen that night wasn’t just an illusion.
A skilled person like Mr. Gilford could undoubtedly manifest aura on his nails as well.
That made it even harder for me.
The aura of a powerful person, who had reached the level of Sword Expert, could embody their mental image.
In other words, it meant that they could distort reality. A good example of this was Senior Delphine’s aura, which emitted intense heat without an apparent source. It was the same principle for Mr. Gilford’s aura.
Hallucination.
At least, that was what I saw. The actual path of his claws, as they traced an unusual trajectory in the air, was subtly distorted from what my eyes registered.
It might seem like an insignificant ability, but in battles between experts, even a slight difference could decide the results of the fight. Moreover, the ability to disrupt a person’s vision, a sense that played a pivotal role in human perception, was especially threatening.
It was impossible to be free from it unless I closed my eyes.
But closing my eyes would deprive me of more than half of the senses I relied on; It was a checkmate move.
His claws sank into the ground deeply, right after I clenched my teeth and rolled away.
The demonic beast let out an enraged roar.
“Is that the best you can do!”
His voice was now intertwined with the cry of an animal. Even so, I could still sense human emotions in his voice.
There was anger and remorse. It was ridiculous. How dare he have such emotions when he was merely a demonic beast?
I quickly got up and hurled my hatchet. A beam of light streaked through the air in the blink of an eye.
If the opponent had been an inexperienced swordsman, my throw would have ended the battle then and there.
However, the demonic beast responded in an unimaginable manner.
Nothing. He didn’t even flinch as the hatchet sank into his skin.
His skin was so thick that even my hatchet could inflict a deep wound. Considering the creature’s ability to heal, it would probably take only a few seconds for the injury to close. The beast’s skin was already bubbling up and regenerating.
This was the fundamental difference between humans and demonic humans. Fighting a demonic human was a battle against common sense as well.
Startled, I retrieved my hatchet as I had initially intended. That gap of hesitation would become the biggest reason for my defeat.
When I briefly hesitated, the demonic beast lunged at me with its two arms forming a twisted cross. When its claws met my sword, sparks flew with a crackling sound.
My arms quivered as I held my sword in place.
Mr. Gilford’s physical abilities had reached a different level after he transformed into a demonic monkey. I had been the one overpowering him before, but now, the situation had reversed entirely.
Previously, I could compensate for the difference in skills by overwhelming him with my physical abilities. However, now that I had lost my sole advantage, I found myself purely on the defensive.
I could hear the demonic beast’s foul and fishy breaths. Its blazing blue eyes were fixed on me.
“Didn’t I teach you this! You must focus on the sword until the end!”
The demonic beast growled, speaking in a tone that was akin to a stern teacher scolding a student.
Ridiculous. I was so incredulous that I yelled out.
“…Do you think swords and claws are the same?!”
To reiterate, I wielded a single sword while he had two hands. The difference was glaringly obvious.
However, the demonic beast seemed unwilling to listen to my excuses.
With an odd crack, he bent his wrist and trapped my sword between his claws. I panicked and tried to remove my arm from his grasp, but it was impossible.
An explosive kick dug into my solar plexus.
It was a clean blow––the kick penetrated the gaps between my bones like an awl.
My breath was knocked out of me. At that moment, I couldn’t even feel the pain. It felt as if time had come to a stop.
When I regained my senses, I was already rolling on the ground. Even my sword was missing from my hand.
I groaned in pain. I had exposed my vital point just once, but my vision was already blurry.
The demonic beast, still holding my sword between his claws, indifferently threw my sword back to me.
The sword rolled on the ground with a clink. I crawled over to grab it.
And as soon as I managed to pick myself up, a series of solid bluish lines descended upon my upper body.
It originated from his claws that were covered in aura. I thought I could evade it.
As such, I started to step backward, but it was already too late.
Five streams of blood hung in the air.
It was a hallucination. The beast’s claws were positioned slightly ahead of the path I had perceived in my field of vision.
Staggering, I took another step back. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it was still a fairly deep cut.
My head spun from the sudden loss of blood. Even so, I clenched my teeth and tried to swing my sword.
Only to find my sword stuck between his claws once again.
The ensuing blow was clear—another kick to the solar plexus.
The ‘Shield of Faith’ had shattered long ago. My internal organs couldn’t withstand the impact and exploded into a mess.
Blood surged up my esophagus. My vision grew even hazier.
It was difficult to even catch my breath.
The pain and suffering was overwhelming. I just wanted to close my eyes and rest.
However, the sound of metal rolling on the ground snapped me back to reality.
In a daze, I turned my eyes toward the source of the sound. My sword had been tossed in my direction again.
The beast was looking down at me with his blazing blue eyes.
“…Is that it?”
I erupted into a laugh, which came out more as a wheeze.
Blood gushed from my mouth. I spat out the blood, my jaw muscles trembling from exhaustion.
Once again, I crawled on all fours to grab the sword.
It was difficult to even balance myself. The muscles in my legs trembled, as if protesting that they had long since passed their limit.
However, I got up. Leaning on my sword like a crutch, gritting my teeth.
I pointed my sword at the demonic beast, swaying back and forth. That was my answer to his question.
The beast nodded once, as if he had anticipated my response. And soon after, a sharp energy surged.
With my eyes wide open, I followed the trajectory of his attack.
The key to attacking later but striking first was in reading the flow of the battle. I took a step closer, then spun around once, riding along with that flow.
Yes, that was the plan.
But in the brief moment I tried to turn my body, another kick connected with my body.
This time, it struck my side. It wasn’t a vital point, but it was no different from a fatal blow, given the state of my internal organs.
My body tumbled to the ground once again. I didn’t even have the energy to pick myself back up.
The evaluation given by my teacher, who was now a monster, was harsh.
“…You were late. You hesitated again at the end.”
Isn’t that a natural human response when your life is at stake?
I wanted to argue back with that thought in mind, but stopped myself. To be more precise, I didn’t even have the energy to do that.
My eyes slowly drooped. My strength drained away, as if pulling me into a peaceful sleep.
I shouldn’t, no. I couldn’t be doing this.
I heard a clamor in the distance. There was someone waiting for me, amidst the shouting and the clashing of metal.
But my eyelids were getting too heavy. Sleep came to me, little by little.
And just as I shut my eyes.
“…Be obedient.”
The voice was a thunderclap in my ear, jolting me to my senses.
The world unraveled around me like falling dominoes. My fading consciousness was overlaid by memories inundated with a pure white.
In the landscape before me, I saw two figures—a man and a woman.
The man was groaning as he slumped to the ground. From the crumpled look on his face, he looked like he was in a lot of pain.
In a moody tone, he muttered with a groan.
“Hey… Does this even help me learn Secret Techniques?”
It was a cynical question, but the woman just gave a smug smile in reply.
She was brushing the dirt off her hands. From this, it was clear who had pinned the man to the ground.
The woman opened her mouth as she watched the man sprawled on the ground.
“Is there anything in the world that the crows who fly across the entire continent don’t know about?”
“…If they really knew everything, would they even bother flying all over the continent?”
To the man’s blunt reply, the woman let out a laugh as if she had just heard a funny joke.
After keeping a cheerful expression for a moment, she scolded the man in a hushed tone.
“The fundamental principle of martial arts cannot be explained through theory alone. To truly understand its history and intentions, you must delve into its ideological roots. And among them, ‘obedience’ is the core of the Holy Nation’s Secret Techniques.”
“…Isn’t it futile?”
It was an unexpected question.
The woman stared at the man with her eyes wide open, clearly taken aback by his question.
The man repeated, catching his breath.
“So, in the end, you’re saying we must do things as God wills? If we do so and die, I think it’ll be futile, though.”
The woman averted her gaze slightly with a strange “Hmph.”
Then, with an incomprehensible smile, she approached the man with her hands behind her back.
“What if even that is my will as well?”
“But even so…….”
A shadow darkened the man’s face.
Above his eyes, the woman’s playful smile lingered. The man immediately shut his mouth.
Perhaps it was her beauty, or something else.
He shyly averted his gaze.
The woman brought her index finger to her lips to shush him and whispered.
“When in doubt, remember these words. Since this is also the secret core of the Holy Church.”
“…What words?”
The woman looked down at the man, her eyes gleaming. Gradually, the shadows of the two figures overlapped.
“…Immanuel.”
Though, I’m not sure if you can understand what that means, her sweet voice added on.
Then, the world fell apart once more.
***
Gilford looked down at Ian in silence.
He was a strong human being. Whether it was his strength, his mental fortitude, or any other quality of him; they were all exceptional.
But even this strong man had fallen victim to the overwhelming power bestowed by the Evil God Omeros.
The dirt floor was already soaked with blood. Blood dripped from the corner of Ian’s mouth, with pieces of intestines still lingering in his mouth that he wasn’t able to spit out.
It was over.
Drawing upon years of experience and a beastly intuition, Gilford reached the appropriate conclusion.
A person with such extensive internal injuries and severe blood loss couldn’t survive, no matter how strong he was.
Even if Ian didn’t die immediately, it was only a matter of minutes before his life slipped away. Gilford decided that he didn’t necessarily have to end Ian’s life right then and there.
Gilford hated murder. Even more so if he had to take away the life of a young man whom he once cared deeply for.
Of course, his thoughts might have been hypocritical, but he still wished to preserve some semblance of his humanity.
Right as Gilford turned his back and made up his mind to deal with the rest of the party…
“Unnnnnngh….”
Did he just make a sound?
Gilford’s gaze filled with doubt turned toward his back. Humans on the verge of death occasionally groan, but it couldn’t be heard as clearly as this.
Gilford, now facing Ian, stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened.
An unknown liquid was flowing down Ian’s body. It wasn’t blood. Only then did the shards of glass on the ground catch Gilford’s attention.
Gilford’s brow furrowed.
“…Healing potion?”
There’s no way, potion bottles were painstakingly crafted so that it couldn’t be destroyed even during battle. There was no way it would have shattered like this.
However, the sight of Ian writhing on the ground was clearly evidence that the liquid was indeed a healing potion.
As Gilford hesitated in surprise, the young man’s hand thumped as he gripped the ground.
Staggering, he slowly raised himself. It was only then that Gilford could fully meet Ian’s gaze.
His glowing golden eyes.
The glitter in Ian’s eyes was something a person in despair could never exhibit. The shimmering hostility and determination in Ian’s eyes sent a shiver down Gilford’s spine.
The man stumbled several times even as he struggled to get up.
His muscles were probably as heavy as lead, and while the healing potion had provided some first aid, it was only enough to keep him clinging to life.
Continuing the battle was utterly impossible. This was the common knowledge that Gilford had learned over the case of decades.
So why was the man trying so hard to pick himself up?
A fear of the unknown gripped Gilford. Logic screamed at him to end Ian’s life immediately, but instinct held him back.
Finally, Ian managed to rise after numerous attempts.
His breath was ragged and his vision was clouded by his bloodshot eyes.
Anyone could see that he was at his limit. Even so, he had a slight smile on his face.
“…Come.”
As soon as he heard those words, Gilford could no longer hold back the emotions that had swelled up inside of him.
He couldn’t even identify what he was feeling. Nevertheless, his instincts were screaming at him.
I must kill him. If I don’t do it now, I will never be able to kill him.
His feet kicked the ground, and he moved in for the kill. In a fraction of a second, Gilford’s arm was already outstretched.
His reach, including his claws, spanned nearly 2 meters.
This difference in reach could not be overcome, and it was especially worse since Ian’s response was delayed.
It was only right for Ian to be stabbed to death.
However, in the next moment…
Time froze.
And in it, the only thing moving was Ian’s body.
He spun like a fish in water.
Ian’s movements were breathtakingly precise. If he had acted even a moment sooner, he might have been struck down. A moment later, and he would have been pierced by Gilford’s attack.
It was as if he glided through a frictionless sphere. There was no sense of resistance transmitted to Gilford’s arm.
At that moment, Gilford instinctively realized what would come next. He realized what the following connective movement was going to be.
Ian’s sword sliced through time, tracing a horizontal line.
The fundamental principle of attacking later but striking first, dividing life and death.
For that brief moment, Gilford’s eyes opened wide, and he couldn’t help but break into a satisfied smile.
It was perfect.
Beyond perfection.
You can rate this series here.
