Following Beatrice, who pouted as if sulking, we arrived at the massive mansion where Saint-Germain was presumed to be.
But why “presumed”?
Because there wasn’t a trace of human presence or life coming from this mansion at all.
“Are you sure Baronette Saint-Germain is actually here?”
“If the address I remember is correct.”
“Hmm.”
Why was that?
The air reeked of a trap.
Still, if we backed down now, we’d lose the only lead on Saint-Germain, and Beatrice’s safety would remain in jeopardy.
If this had anything to do with the Demon King’s Army, then no matter how far beyond the border we headed toward the Kingdom of Lumin, there was a high chance they’d come after us.
I was already prepared to take that risk, but that didn’t mean I was willing to leave such a troublesome situation unresolved.
“All right. Let’s move in.”
“…Are you serious?”
Murfin asked with a wary expression.
“This looks way too obviously like a trap.”
“I know.”
The atmosphere screamed ‘do not enter,’ but to a Hero, it was the opposite.
Because inside, there was something related to the Demon Race—it was like a siren’s call, urging me to enter.
The Hero’s murderous intent against anything affiliated with the Demon King’s Army or the Demon King himself was not something mere human willpower could simply restrain.
But…
“My skills aren’t mediocre enough to fall for something like this, so don’t worry, Cat Brother.”
“…You actually use that codename?”
Murfin’s incredulous expression made Beatrice tilt her head.
“Codename?”
Nodding, I briefly explained it to the newcomer.
“In the Special Task Force, everyone has a codename that suits them. One of them is Code Name: Cat Siblings. He’s the older brother.”
“I never agreed to accept that codename.”
“Shut up. I’m the one who decides.”
“…”
Murfin shot me a protesting glare, but I completely ignored it.
Regardless of his will, I intended to stop him from walking down the path of the Desolator again.
If he was going to walk a path filled only with darkness, I’d make sure he at least lived under the light.
Murfin was still a decent guy deep down.
The expression he wore when he became a Desolator and wiped out the Resistance Army still haunted my mind.
Desolators were still horrifying enemies that could only be fought with the fuel of intense vengeance burning in my heart, but at the same time, he was just one among many traitors.
Apart from the revenge that burned inside me, too many had walked the path of darkness, devouring their own flesh and killing their hearts.
I was tired of seeing families weep, comrades drown in grief, and morale plunge into the abyss.
“Anyway, to solve the problem related to Beatrice, we have to find clues inside eventually. When you’re on a mission, sometimes you have to walk into traps.”
“…”
“Why do you look so surprised?”
“Because that was a surprisingly reasonable thing to say.”
How does this guy normally see me?
I briefly considered delivering a counterstrike like Beatrice did, but wasting time was pointless, so I swung the Holy Sword and smashed the mansion’s front door.
A wailing of spirits echoed sharply into my ears.
Since I lacked the spiritual sight to see ghosts, I guessed the wailing was something else entirely.
“Looks like there’s a Necromancer inside.”
Murfin asked, intrigued.
“How can you tell?”
“Can’t you hear this wailing of spirits?”
“Wailing of spirits?”
Murfin and Beatrice both tilted their heads, apparently not understanding.
It seemed I was the only one hearing it.
“Correction. It’s not a Necromancer.”
A sorcerer who manipulates ghosts dragged into this world to sing their grudges.
The Sorcery of Commanding Spirits that a Necromancer uses is basically a wide-area erosion based on the wailing of spirits.
But only I could hear such power?
Even a grand Necromancer wouldn’t be capable of that.
I stared hard at the entrance, gripping the Holy Sword tightly.
Maybe sensing something from my actions, Murfin and Beatrice both took defensive stances and fell silent.
How many seconds passed in that eerie silence where even the wind seemed to have stopped?
“Kyaaaah!”
A piercing scream rent the air, and something sharp swiftly brushed past my face.
For a moment, it felt like the space itself was being crushed.
“Ugh?!”
“Ugh!”
The thing that passed Murfin and Beatrice circled in midair and targeted me again.
“Murfin, Beatrice, step away from me.”
Bathed in purple, its blade surface writhing like veins being corroded.
“Not a Necromancer, but a Magic Sword was hiding here.”
As if reacting to my muttering, the Magic Sword flailed through the air, rapidly charging at me with threatening speed.
I swung the Holy Sword and deflected the Magic Sword.
At that moment, the gem embedded in the middle of the sword flashed with burning eyes.
The burning gaze turned toward Murfin.
“Ah, the sword is calling. Hold the sword, drink the blood, consume the flesh, offer the sacrifice, give everything…”
Suddenly, Murfin’s eyes turned ashen.
I leapt between the Magic Sword and Murfin, swinging the Holy Sword toward the burning gaze while reciting a prayer.
“O Storm God, grant me the sword to rip apart and kill the Demon King.”
The Blessing of the Storm God filled the Holy Sword.
The Holy Sword, imbued with the Hero’s Prayer and Hero’s Soul, became one and unleashed a magnificent Slashing Gale.
I slashed the gale in a straight line; the blade cut through the Magic Sword and split the burning eye inside its gem in half, which then fell to the ground, vanishing without a trace.
But this was a Magic Sword—would it really end with just one hit?
I immediately swung the sword again to quarter the halved Magic Sword falling down.
At that moment, the broken fragments of the Magic Sword dashed away like lightning, dodging the second strike, and slipped into the mansion through the door.
‘…This bastard.’
That Magic Sword seemed to possess some degree of intelligence.
Otherwise, it would be impossible to show such proactive movements.
‘But how?’
No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t find an answer.
I gritted my teeth and rotated my neck once.
The muscles that had stiffened loosened with a satisfying crack.
“Murfin, you with me?”
“…More or less.”
“Can you stand?”
Murfin gritted his teeth and used his axe as a cane to push himself up.
He seemed drained after resisting the mental attack.
“Somehow.”
“I want to tell you not to overdo it, but this situation doesn’t allow it.”
The chill in the surroundings grew stronger under the Magic Sword’s influence.
Fog seemed about to roll in any moment, and it wouldn’t be strange for something to jump out at any time.
Murfin smirked and puffed himself up with bravado.
“Can’t just fall over from a little mental attack by a Magic Sword. I’m supposed to go shopping with Elena next week, you know.”
“Hm, time with family is precious.”
I looked at Beatrice.
For some reason, she wore a dazed expression.
“What’s wrong? You okay?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Beatrice’s face returned to normal in an instant.
But that only made her look more suspicious.
“Don’t say nonsense. If you get a weird feeling, tell me immediately. Even fleeting sensations are important information in situations like this.”
“…I don’t even know why I feel this way. It’s like I’m anxious… or maybe uneasy. Like I want to be drawn into this mansion. Do you know what I mean?”
Beatrice, who should have cared about nothing but emotions, suddenly showed interest.
“One of two things. Either something related to you is inside that mansion, or you’ve been affected by the Magic Sword’s mental corruption.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Neither is really good, given the place.”
Anyway, I shifted the topic since the main point was elsewhere.
“Can you buy me some time?”
“Time? Where is there time when there’s nothing?”
“There can’t be nothing. If the environment is changing this rapidly, expect something to jump out at any moment.”
Beatrice sighed and scratched the back of her head.
“How much?”
“About twenty minutes. If I don’t come back by then, just head to the Kingdom of Lumin without me.”
The oddly specific timeframe came from a sense that that’s what had to be done.
Understanding my meaning, Beatrice’s expression turned anxious.
“…You’ll come back alive, right? It’d be bad if the guy who promised to share his emotions with me died already.”
I scoffed at the comment that contained not a trace of worry.
“I haven’t lived such an easy life that I’d die here.”
“…Even though you look younger than me.”
Beatrice’s face showed disbelief, but she soon nodded as if forced to accept it and stood beside Murfin.
“I’ll give you a little backup.”
“…I’ll take that.”
Believing they’d manage to survive on their own, I stepped inside the mansion.
“Hmm.”
It was filthier than I expected.
Not just the atmosphere of a decrepit haunted house, but traces of human blood were smeared everywhere.
At least it was fortunate that so much time had passed, turning the blood black and dried.
But that relief was short-lived.
As I followed the Magic Sword’s trail deeper into the mansion, I frowned at one strange thing.
‘This is deeper than I thought.’
By the building’s structure, I should have been outside by now.
Yet the corridor stretched on endlessly.
There were no stairs to the second floor, no doors leading to other rooms.
‘The space is distorted.’
The most suspicious thing was the Magic Sword hiding somewhere inside.
There was no other tool that could cause such a phenomenon.
“Hmm.”
I turned my head and found no visible exit.
It was essentially a prison.
‘This could go on forever.’
I gripped the Holy Sword firmly.
The sword that heals people and slays ten thousand beasts flickered with golden light according to my will.
“Phew.”
A deep breath.
And then the Dance of Swords began.
The Holy Sword flashed gold as it sliced through the corridor left and right.
Once the swing started, it cut endlessly without stopping.
Golden sword auras were etched across the entire corridor.
On the floor, the ceiling, the walls.
There wasn’t a single place untouched by the sword’s aura.
Boom!
The corridor shook as if an earthquake hit.
‘It’s resisting.’
From the shaking corridors poured thick murderous intent aimed at me.
An ordinary person would have been crushed by the physical force carried by that intent.
I scattered the intent with golden light and dodged black thorns that suddenly appeared from thin air and tried to pierce my body.
Maintaining the Dance of Swords, I narrowly avoided and cut down the thorns.
Before long, the corridor was filled with the golden sword aura, shining brightly.
But from the far end, darkness steadily encroached.
‘A last desperate move.’
The approaching darkness began to corrode the golden sword aura and the corridor itself until nothing was visible anymore.
But whether it did or not, my dance continued.
Eventually, all the corridors were swallowed by darkness, and I couldn’t tell whether I was standing on solid ground or in midair.
I was confident I’d survive even if I fell off a cliff, so I didn’t care.
How long had I danced?
The wailing of spirits, which I had been pushing to the back of my mind, began to drift softly into my ears.
Slowly, the darkness devoured my arms and legs.
The only place with any sensation left was my hand gripping the Holy Sword.
Relying solely on that sense, I danced faster.
How long had I danced?
Finally, the flickering light of the Holy Sword swelled brightly and began radiating heat.
That hot energy spread to my hand, arms, and body, turning them crimson.
The corridor and my body, both being eroded by darkness, were instantly wrapped in light and restored to their original state.
‘What a ridiculous sword.’
My Holy Sword always needed this kind of “charging” to unleash its true power.
Only the Hero’s Dance of Swords could accumulate the sword’s power.
That was why my swordsmanship was unnecessarily flashy and impractical compared to other Heroes.
It was also why a Great Sage was needed in the battle against the Demon King.
“But you’re not the Demon King.”
I swung the blazing Holy Sword with all my might toward the Magic Sword—or rather, swords—that pierced through the darkness and aimed at me.
Without hesitation, the blade cut through demons.
Slayer of Demons Strike.
Kraaaang!
The crimson light flashing from the sword flickered and exploded with tremendous force.
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