Chapter 65: Divine Trial (3)

The rotten, twisted tree looked as desolate as the empty sky at dawn.

Such trees gathered to form a forest, and Moritz’s shallow courage faced its limits.

“Hor, Hor, Hor, Hor, please save me, Hor, Hor…!”

He mumbled incessantly, clutching onto Nar’s back.

Not even the faint buzzing of tiny insects could be heard in the forest—it was an eerie atmosphere where one might expect a ghost to appear.

On top of that, the dark magic surged violently, pounding his heart as if it would burst.

“It’s outside.”

Moritz’s eyes caught sight beyond the forest.

He had finally crossed the forest after a full two hours.

“Hah… hah…”

He escaped the dead forest of corpses and finally felt some relief.

Though it was still bitter like wormwood, the open outside felt far more comforting than the dead forest.

But that comfort was short-lived.

After the forest came a river.

The blackened, lifeless river reeked of a foul stench.

“Damn it!”

Moritz finally spoke after a long silence, his face pale as death.

Just as Riot Castle and its surroundings felt like two different worlds, the inside and outside of the forest also felt completely separate realms.

The air was sharp and biting, and the wind carried the smell of corpses.

With dark magic covering both the sky and the ground, it felt as if this place was the very demonic realm itself.

“And I still have to scout this damn place.”

He pinched his nose.

Breathing in this disgusting air felt like it would infect him with some disease.

Indeed, his mind was already showing strange symptoms.

He would tremble and then laugh, laugh and then cry.

He even grabbed Nar’s glossy fur and pulled it out.

But there was no turning back now.

The reconnaissance had only just begun.

Moritz swallowed his tears and moved forward, step by step.

A whole day passed.

He passed through a few small abandoned villages and finally stood before a large city.

The territory of Count Poiro, who had raided the castle.

The pride of the Baren Kingdom that had guarded Polin Castle for generations.

Looking at the familiar banners fluttering over the great city, Moritz pulled out his notebook and pen.

[ I don’t know how many days it’s been since I started this reconnaissance. But I’m certain it’s been at least a day since I crossed the border. I am now entering the territory of Count Poiro. Ah, I should probably start with what happened before that. The situation outside the border is the worst. Yeah. I really have no other way to explain it but ‘worst.’ ]

What he wrote abruptly was more like a diary.

The trembling tip of his pen traced chaotic words.

[ The rations Richard gave me were just jerky and water. But when I tried them just now, the taste was all wrong. Both the jerky and the water. They weren’t like this yesterday. I had to fill my stomach, so I forced myself to swallow it. As I ate, it became somewhat bearable. Wait, come to think of it, the color had turned blackened and spoiled. ]

[ …I’m rambling. The reason I’m writing this diary is not only for reconnaissance but also to remind myself of the will and mission that I must not lose. ]

After scribbling for a while, Moritz put the notebook away.

Only after finishing did he realize it might have been better to write after scouting the count’s territory.

“What are you looking at?”

Crunch—

Nar, who had been staring at him sharply, quietly shook his head.

In the deep, predatory gaze, a faint flicker of worry appeared.

“Don’t be so serious. You’re just like Richard—no fun. Let’s just get moving.”

The beast and the man stepped into the count’s territory.

The scenery was no different from the villages they had passed.

The stench pulsated, and the buildings were cracked and broken.

The ground was stiff with dried blood stains.

Moritz, who had been tense from the possibility of an ambush, let out a sigh.

The count’s territory had literally become a ghost town.

Not even a single corpse was in sight.

“The undead didn’t just drop from the sky…”

They must have invaded from this side.

And in fact, they had.

Then maybe all other places were just as desolate.

Just the undead who raided Riot Castle alone could have stacked two or three mountains of corpses.

Moritz’s face, as he turned back toward the main road, lost all hope.

“Empty houses make looting easy!”

After confirming there was no one left, the reconnaissance gained momentum.

Climbing onto Nar, Moritz swiftly circled the territory.

His gaze rose as he spotted the lord’s castle.

Atop the castle’s peak, a tower stood tall.

A gloomy aura poured from the top of the tower made of an unknown material.

That was definitely…

“There it is after all. Damn it!”

It was the one Richard had insisted on smashing whenever he saw it.

What would happen if he destroyed it?

Moritz hesitated no longer and drew his sword.

If you want it clean, you have to cut it clean.

Damn.

Kooo—

Moritz’s aura surged along the elegant blade.

This was the fortress he had recently seen Nar defend.

Swoosh—

The sword’s fierce strike shattered the orb attached to the tower.

“What? Nothing happened?”

***

[Recon Day 2. Here, ‘day 2’ means from the moment I crossed the border. I scouted Count Poiro’s city yesterday. Once magnificent and vibrant, it has now become a ghost town filled only with ruins.]

[… I eventually found the ‘orb’ Richard spoke of. To my surprise, as I manipulated the aura, the orb was nothing more than a pebble before a dragon. Being able to manipulate the aura at my age also proved I truly inherited the Bartenberg Bloodline.]

[… I thought breaking the orb would trigger some change, but not a single thing happened—not even a bird chirped.]

[Recon Day 5. Writing a diary after three days. Wait, didn’t I write one yesterday? Checking now, I didn’t. I’m currently standing before the territory of the Laden family.]

[… Before arriving here, I passed through several large and small villages. They were all ruins with not a single corpse in sight. Maybe there aren’t any undead left. I will first scout Laden’s territory.]

[Recon Day 6. I want to cancel the reconnaissance. I am now in Hell. It’s all corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses.]

[… My mind is in chaos. Fortunately, my stealth is excellent, so I haven’t been detected. But that Death Knight is dangerous. It feels like it would discover my presence at any moment.]

[… There was a black orb in the lord’s castle, so I destroyed it no matter what. Then a change occurred. Corpses with upturned eyes swarmed out of the territory. The problem is they’re heading toward Riot Castle. It looks like Richard was counting on this. That madman.]

[Recon Day 7. I escaped the territory. That Death Knight, the head of the Laden family, stayed firm regardless of the orb being broken. A slight mistake by me and I was cut by his sword.]

[… The wound is deep. Dark magic seeps through the torn flesh. I was so hungry I grabbed a fistful of jerky and swallowed it. It tasted insanely good. If the jerky is this good, how fresh must the meat have been?]

[Recon Day 8. Recon. Recon. Recon. Recon. Corpses. Corpses. Corpses.]

[Recon Day 14. Richard is pitiful. I am beyond exhausted. Hor, why have you given me such a trial?]

***

“Hor, why have you given me such a trial…?”

Moritz muttered absentmindedly.

Then suddenly, he shuddered.

“Come to think of it… I haven’t prayed in days.”

Damn it.

How could he have forgotten that?

His face pale as death, he hurriedly flipped through his diary.

From day one to day fourteen.

A bone-chilling madness seeped through the words.

Moritz then took out the jerky.

Dried meat that looked rotten and decayed as if made from undead flesh.

And yet, he had eaten a whole handful, saying it tasted insanely good.

“Ugh, ugh…!”

He immediately vomited everything out.

There was no mistake.

He recalled all the strange behaviors he’d exhibited during reconnaissance.

As he was violently vomiting, the wound inflicted by the head of the Laden family flared up.

Black blood poured out.

“Ah!”

He lifted his clothes and inspected the wound.

The skin around the wound was pitch-black, rotting and reeking.

Other large and small wounds were the same.

He looked like an undead.

“I’m still alive…”

Fear crushed Moritz’s face.

“Hor! Please embrace this child! Please wake me from this nightmare!”

The desperate prayer was met with only faint vitality.

Was this truly the almighty God?

Didn’t He know that what was needed now wasn’t vitality?

“Ugh…”

Moritz clutched his chest with trembling hands.

What he pulled out next was a tiny seed.

It was given to him before leaving on reconnaissance, along with his rations.

-When you really think you’re about to die, when you want to give up, swallow this. Then come right back. This is your lifeline.

That was right.

Richard had definitely said this.

Moritz’s eyes shimmered as he stared at the seed.

If he ate this, would he not become undead?

Was his mad, unraveling mind finally clearing up?

“Then right now…”

He hesitated, stopping his hand just before putting the seed in his mouth.

The truth he wanted to deny circled around his head.

If he ate this, he would have to go back.

Leaving the mission incomplete, like a broken soldier.

He was finally at the enemy’s stronghold.

The seed felt like a river he could never cross back over.

Ugh—

A groan slipped through his clenched teeth.

“Ki… Kinric.”

The groan quickly turned into a laugh.

He chuckled for a long time before burying his head in the ground.

He had thought that after recognizing the existence of God, he had changed.

What was called the ‘Light.’

Yes, he thought he had found such a thing in God.

Because he had wished for it so desperately.

But no.

“I’m still weak.”

He had thought becoming a saint would make everything possible.

What a foolish thing to think.

He had vowed to become a man worthy of the name Bartenberg, yet he had become a fool who called out to God at every turn.

God only assists from the side, not one who acts in your stead.

The real Bartenberg is upright and steadfast.

Like his father, Ludwig.

And he never shows weakness.

Just like Richard.

How far was his own stature from those two?

Moritz stayed silent for a long time, head bowed into the ground.

“…To change, I have to act like I’ve changed. I can’t just stay still and pray.”

He quietly closed his eyes and recalled the image of the self he wanted.

At once, strength naturally gathered in his hand around the seed.

“Better to die following my beliefs than to die trembling. I must not forget my sacred mission. I have to report all enemy information to the alliance in detail.”

Moritz no longer resented Richard, who had thought him hot-tempered.

Accepting this mission was his own will, and even by his own judgment, it was a task only he could carry out.

“For Hor…”

He put the seed back into his pocket.

There was no need to eat it right now.

His mind had cleared, and his heart beat strongly.

Only Polin Castle remained to be searched.

The fortress of evil that harbored the worst and most vile dark magic.

Moritz walked on his own feet into hell.

With each step, he shed the petty, cowardly, and weak past.

***

[Saint Moritz Bartenberg – Qualification Satisfied for Lowest-Ranked Paladin of the Hor Religion.]

[Specialty – Holy Power Conversion (E) acquired.]

[Lowest-Ranked Paladin 1/3]

Richard stared blankly at the System Window.

At first glance, his face was calm.

“Sigh…”

After a long time, a sigh escaped, filled with undeniable relief.

It had been six days since the prayers ceased.

During that time, Richard’s insides had burned black.

He didn’t know if Moritz had died or turned into a demonic being corrupted by dark magic.

No, judging by the recent prayers, it was clear he had been turning into a demon.

And yet suddenly, he became a paladin.

“I don’t think he swallowed the seed…”

There was no sign of that.

Meaning Moritz had overcome the corruption by himself, achieving this great feat.

“To think I’d get my first paladin like this…”

Those who overcome great trials deserve corresponding rewards.

It seemed he should prepare a gift.