Chapter 145 - A Great Legacy (2)

Carui, the ancient evil god.

Unlike the three gods remaining in this world, he demanded an endless price from those bound to him.

He did not benevolently give everything of himself. He merely fulfilled desperate wishes, without distinguishing between good and evil, provided the price was sufficient.

Exactly as much as he was paid. No more, no less.

[I grant it.]

The moment the answer he had been waiting for finally came, a monstrous arm tore through space and ripped off Ludwig's arm, taking it away.

But when he came to his senses, he stood in the very place he had only been watching.

It was truly a devilish power and authority. All the more so because it always exacted a price.

"I'll... kill... you!"

Even as he made his decision, the desperate battle was hurtling toward its conclusion. Ludwig hastily reached out.

And...

[I shall take it.]

That was enough. There was no need to explain to the evil god what he wanted, or what he would offer in return.

"Ol' man! Wha' are you doin'?!"

As the Dragonslayer thrust his sword at the barbarian warrior, a powerful opposing force hurled him backward.

But the price was...

RRRIP!

Both ears were torn away. Offered in sacrifice to the evil god, they left permanent wounds that no Divine Power or potion could heal.

Pain flared, fiercer than any raging fire.

Yet Ludwig could think of only one thing.

So this was the pain they had been fighting through.

"Ol' man. Heal... me."

Black light blazed from the Dragonslayer's eyes as he gave the order. Ludwig's body moved as though entranced, regardless of his will.

Quite apart from his grandson, whose very soul the man held captive, there was one of the man's Abilities: [Kith and Kin]. As long as that accursed Ability bound him, he could not refuse the man's commands.

But...

[I shall count to ten.]

As a massive monster's claws tore off his remaining arm, his body stopped its involuntary advance.

Yet it was still not enough. There was still much he wished for, and much left to offer.

His legs, his eyes, his heart, his lungs. Anything would do. He would offer every part of his wretched flesh.

If this body in its twilight years could help the young heroes along their path, he would surrender even his wish to end his weary life and rest in her embrace.

So...

"Give me the power to kill that man."

Ludwig spoke, and the evil god answered.

[It cannot be done.]

Not a refusal, but an impossibility. However highly he valued a sacrifice made of one's own free will, it meant this price was still insufficient.

But Ludwig cast aside every lingering attachment. This was different from the resignation he had practiced every day.

Had he not just resolved to abandon impossible hopes and do what he could?

The evil god had granted him a mere ten seconds of freedom. There was no time to waste on despair.

"Then let me protect these people."

Ludwig spoke again, and the evil god laughed.

And...

[I grant it.]

Monstrous arms reached out of the darkness, tore his body to shreds, and devoured it.

* * *

My relief at escaping immediate danger lasted only a moment before questions arose.

How had the priest of Carui covered a four-hour journey to get here, and why was he acting against the Dragonslayer?

Did he have some other plan?

"Ol' man! Wha' are you doin'?!"

Judging by the Dragonslayer's expression, that didn't seem to be the case. In short, this was something he hadn't anticipated either.

But I could hardly call it a positive development.

"Ol' man. Heal... me."

Black light shone from the eyes of the man who had been hurled backward, even losing his sword.

I didn't need to see any more to know what it was.

[Kith and Kin].

An Ability from his rank-three Essence. An overpowered skill that absorbed the souls of the dead to increase his stats and, subject to certain conditions, let him enslave the living.

TAP.

The priest took a step as though entranced.

But just when I thought it was all over...

RRRIP.

The priest's remaining arm was torn away, as though offered in sacrifice to an evil god lurking in the darkness.

TAP.

The priest stopped his entranced advance.

Horrific did not begin to describe his appearance. Both ears and arms looked as though a beast had bitten them off.

Yet even in that state, he spoke.

"Give me the power to kill that man."

Only then did I fully understand the situation. Who this nameless priest was speaking to, and what bargain he had made.

If my guesses were all correct, there was a way to survive—

[It cannot be done.]

The answer to the priest's request was a refusal.

The voice echoed through the entire passage, as though addressing everyone present. As hope and despair traded places, a brief gleam flashed in the Dragonslayer's eyes.

That was when it happened.

"Then let me protect these people."

The man's next request came without the slightest hesitation. Laughter sounded from somewhere.

And...

[I grant it.]

The priest fell to the floor.

Of course he did. The two legs supporting him had been torn away.

But the evil god was a contradictory being who granted hope and despair at once.

WHOOOOSH!

In exchange, a portal opened.

It swirled into being in the middle of the passage, scattering black light. Though its radiance was a different color, it was a dimensional gate—the highest tier of magic, capable of opening a passage from the Labyrinth to the city.

WHIIIIISH!

Soon, the dimensional gate pouring out immense mana revealed what lay beyond.

It wasn't the familiar gray city of Raphdonia. It was a dark, gloomy underground fortress.

"Ol' man! Wha' are you doin'? Stop righ' now...!"

As though pushed by an invisible gust, the Dragonslayer's body slowly slid toward the portal.

"You don' care wha' happens to your gran'son—"

"This is something I should have done long ago."

The Dragonslayer shouted something in fury, but the priest's answer was utterly resolute.

"FUUUUUCK!!!"

Perhaps finally accepting that he could do nothing to thwart the priest's resolve, he roared and looked at me, then shifted his gaze to another spot.

He stretched out his hand.

The abandoned Arc longsword slid across the floor with a scrape. The silver blade moved toward him as though drawn by magnetism.

What he meant to do was all too obvious.

He might be leaving, but he wasn't leaving that behind.

'Fucking sword-obsessed bastard.'

Forcing strength into my trembling legs, I flung myself forward. Not at that shameless Dragonslayer bastard, but at the sword being pulled toward him.

THUD.

My head spun from the impact as my battered body hit the floor, but I reached out and grabbed the sword.

CRACKLE!

Perhaps it was bound to its owner, because the sword released searing heat the instant I touched it.

Thanks to Pain Tolerance, the pain was bearable. But I could distinctly feel my hand going numb by the second. Enough to make me wonder whether holding it for a few more minutes would cost me the use of my arm forever.

'... Has he been using the sword in this state all along?'

I immediately dismissed the needless question that crossed my mind. That wasn't what I needed to think about now.

"You bas'ard!!"

I held on. I would press my weight against the ground, even sink my teeth into the floor if I had to.

So the blade that would one day be turned against me would never return to his hand.

So it couldn't hurt my companions.

SKRRRCH!

Suddenly, the pull grew much stronger. My body began sliding as though all friction had vanished. At this rate, I could easily be dragged into the portal along with the sword.

Fuck, should I let go while I still could?

Just as that doubt began to surface...

"Guh, gaaah!"

He coughed up blood, and the pull disappeared.

Right. So this was your limit too.

"Barbaria'..."

He called to me, then murmured a few words.

"We'll... mee' again."

We would meet again.

A line fit for a fleeing third-rate villain, delivered with a lisp that would embarrass even Misha. He didn't even say what he would do when we did.

But...

THUMP!

Those few words made my heart pound.

"..."

The spike lodged in his shoulder. His half-crushed jaw. The Bloodlust that made my skin prickle. His steaming right arm, its crimson color darkened to black.

They were telling me that when that day came, there would be no lucky break like today's.

They conveyed it more clearly than hundreds of curses ever could.

But what was I supposed to do about it?

I tightened my grip.

A member of Orculus? An eighth-floor explorer with the epithet Dragonslayer? The fact that there would be no Guardian of Balance next time?

'I already know all that.'

Yes, I couldn't beat him as I was. If he tried something, I would have to struggle just as desperately as I had today.

But...

WHOOOOOOSH!

I would survive.

Because that was what I did best. It was what I had done all this time, and what I would have to keep doing.

I would cling to life every single day and grow stronger. And someday, when I no longer needed luck...

"We will meet again, dragonkin."

I would go find him.

Because he wasn't the only one who had lost something today.

* * *

WHOOOOOSH!

The greedily gaping portal swallowed him whole and vanished. At the same time, warm light began seeping into my body.

Not just mine, but all my companions' as well.

'... Divine Power?'

I stared blankly at my hand. My wounds were healing slowly but steadily.

Unlike with a potion, there was no pain. Only comforting warmth.

Only then did I come to my senses and turn to look behind me.

I saw the priest's shredded body.

No, could that even be called a body anymore?

He had no arms or legs. Dark red blood flowed from his gouged-out eye sockets, and his nose had been sliced off like a corpse's on a battlefield.

And inside the long vertical gash in his abdomen, the things that should have been there were missing.

"Why..."

The word slipped out before I knew it.

What could possibly have driven this old man to sacrifice so much?

And for us, complete strangers.

"Letter... in my... robe..."

A faint voice reached me then. It was the priest.

I could hardly believe it, but I hurried over and searched his robes. I found an old, crumpled letter.

"Lea... t..."

"Rest easy. I will make sure this letter reaches the Order of Leatlas."

"Thank..."

The priest closed his eyes. Though blood covered him everywhere else, his deeply wrinkled face looked so clean and peaceful.

Watching him felt like being in a dream.

How could he speak in this state?

Unable to hold back, I asked. If I let this moment pass, I would never have another chance.

"... Why did you save us?"

Because it was the right thing to do?

Well, someone with this kind of resolve must have had an opportunity to free himself long ago.

Then why today of all days? It couldn't simply have been coincidence, and I desperately wanted to know the story behind it.

"..."

No answer came.

Had he already died?

As I began to rise with that thought, the priest's lips parted slightly.

"Ma... ge..."

He never finished the sentence. But that was enough.

"I see. Thank you for telling me."

I stood without lingering. There was so much I wanted to ask, but somehow I felt the old man had already left this place.

"..."

I paused for a moment and listened.

A silence so unfamiliar it felt awkward.

As though savoring its lingering stillness, I murmured inwardly.

'We survived.'

We had survived. The dwarf, Misha, and Rotmiller.

None of them had died.

But...

'I can't call this keeping my promise.'

I smiled bitterly at my companion's body farther down the passage.

["Can you... win?"]

["Don't worry. I'll bring everyone back alive. I promise."]

I had said it so confidently.

Yet he was the one who had protected us.

The reason all of us could return alive—that miracle, which seemed like an act of god, something far beyond mere luck...

["Ma... ge..."]

It was simply the legacy left to us by the mage who had fought to the very, very end.

Leor Wuerv Dwalki.