Chapter 67 - The Monstrosity - 2

Bera left the tent. He had made that decision after weighing his chances in an immediate fight.

Gartea was one of the Demon King’s legion commanders. Bera knew how monstrous that commander was. Knew? He had witnessed it himself.

An opponent he could not be certain of defeating. Enemies on every side. And his only weapon was a pitifully short blade.

In a situation where retreating to prepare for another day was plainly the right choice, Bera felt no shame whatsoever in fleeing. The people he had left behind mattered more than his pride. He fled because he understood that now.

Only after he had put considerable distance between himself and the tent and reached the path to Dovan’s smithy did Bera stop running.

His heart thudded heavily at what he had just seen. His thoughts were in complete disarray.

Gartea, the Fortress Destroyer.

The Demon King’s first standard-bearer.

Only now could Bera grasp its true identity.

‘The king of the third kingdom...’

Was Gartea.

A hollow “Ha” escaped Bera’s lips.

‘... It’s not impossible.’

There were certainly things that fell into place if Todd was Gartea.

‘Gartea first appeared in the alliance’s lands.’

The destruction of the western alliance of kingdoms had been the first event following the Demon King’s rise. Gartea had been responsible for it.

His origins had never been uncovered in Bera’s previous life, but putting that together with what he had seen gave him an immediate answer, didn’t it?

Gartea had been one of the alliance’s kings, and all the ministers of the third kingdom who knew his identity had died. That must have been why it had remained unknown.

Yet there was still something he could not understand.

‘... The alliance was never unified in my previous life.’

Gartea was Todd. Todd wanted to unify the alliance. To that end, he intended to eliminate Dovan and the kings of the other four kingdoms.

That much was clear. So why had Todd remained silent in Bera’s previous life? Why was he acting so openly this time?

As Bera considered it, he soon found the reason in himself.

‘... Because I intervened.’

Perhaps the Holy Empire’s involvement had made Todd impatient.

That possibility occurred to him.

Bera recalled Todd’s condition inside the tent.

‘He was unstable.’

Todd could not even properly maintain his own flesh. His body constantly broke apart and regenerated, leaving him in agony.

Bera could not know for certain, but the sorcery Todd was performing must have been intended to draw the Demon King’s energy into his body. Sorcery that would turn him into Gartea by absorbing that energy.

He linked the suppositions together in his mind.

‘If it reaches completion when the Demon King rises...’

If Todd had remained silent until then.

‘... If he loses his reason the moment the sorcery is complete...’

If that was why Todd had destroyed the alliance after finally completing it.

Then his silence could be explained.

Furthermore, that assumption made certain things about Dovan perfectly understandable.

‘He would have needed to kill Dovan to keep the alliance divided while he remained silent.’

Without Dovan, the alliance would remain divided until the sorcery was complete. From Todd’s perspective, Dovan must have been someone he absolutely had to kill.

Bera’s thoughts quickened as he pieced together the clues, connecting the fragments through cause and effect into a single sequence of events.

But as he continued thinking, he suddenly felt that sequence break off at one particular point.

His face twisted.

‘... I can’t explain the demonic sword.’

Todd’s transformation into Gartea. Why Dovan had needed to die. Why Aisha had needed to take up the demonic sword. He could infer all of it, except for one thing.

‘If Todd kills Dovan, the demonic sword can never be completed.’

It was the same reasoning that had initially led him to suspect that something would happen to Aisha.

Ultimately, Dovan was the one who had to complete the demonic sword. If he died, wouldn’t it remain unfinished forever?

The sequence Bera had pieced together could only reach its proper conclusion if Dovan forged the demonic sword at the end. Yet drawing a conclusion from his current suppositions still left that part blank.

‘There’s definitely something I’ve missed.’

Something he had overlooked. Something he had failed to consider.

An event that would create Dovan’s hatred—the resentment that would be etched into the demonic sword.

Bera rewound his thoughts. The events he had slowly woven together returned to their original fragments.

He assembled those pieces and pulled them apart several times, but none of the resulting sequences led to the demonic sword’s completion.

Bera clenched his fist tight.

Impatience surged within him. He needed to return immediately. He needed to prepare.

There was no telling when Todd, performing his sorcery down below, would come up here. Fury rose in Bera at his own inability to work out this one thing.

His thoughts, clouded by impatience, began pursuing another course.

‘... I’ll face Todd as I am.’

His gaze turned toward the tent once more.

If he could not figure out what would happen, he could render it all meaningless by killing Todd. He could prevent any of it from happening in the first place.

As Bera followed that line of thought and weighed his chances, something he could only call unease suddenly welled up inside him.

He was not fully prepared. The single short blade he carried was his entire armament.

What would happen if he fought in this state and failed to defeat Todd?

What would happen to Dovan, Aisha, Renée, Norn, and Hella, who were just behind him?

Bera faltered, finding himself stepping backward without realizing it.

Renée would die.

That thought sent a sudden jolt of fear through him.

Suddenly, the sight of her in those final moments he had once witnessed surfaced in Bera’s mind.

His heart began to pound harder. His breathing grew ragged.

‘We could flee instead...’

What if he woke everyone at the smithy right now and retreated to prepare for another day?

The moment that thought occurred to him—

THUMP

Bera felt his heart constrict.

“Ghh...!”

His body jolted. Staggering under the pain that had struck without warning, he finally collapsed to his knees.

His hand moved to the left side of his chest.

He immediately knew the cause of the pain. It was the Oath etched into his soul.

["I will live for the Saintess."]

That Oath was reacting to the thought he had just entertained.

Startled by the sudden pain, Bera soon bit his lip and spat out a curse.

‘... I must not flee.’

That would violate his Oath. Fleeing like this was not an act for Renée’s sake.

Turning his back on those who would perish in their place after they fled would go against Renée’s convictions—against her commitment to doing what was only right.

Why was this Oath, silent all this time, reacting only now, at this very moment?

Bera had no such question. He knew.

It must have been reacting now because he had clearly recognized that this was wrong, because the events he had experienced since leaving the Holy Empire had engraved that understanding deep in his heart.

GRIND

Bera ground his teeth. His eyes trembled with unease.

Having lived his entire life for himself, and having therefore never known fear, Bera was only now coming to understand the fear of loss.

He was cornered.

Realizing that he could neither advance nor turn back, Bera stared blankly at the ground.

His uninterrupted train of thought broke off, and every sense of where to go grew hazy.

TICK

The sound of a second hand moving rang out.

Bera raised his head.

TICK

The sound came again.

Bera sprang to his feet and gripped his blade in reverse.

‘Have I been discovered?’

Had the third kingdom’s army noticed his infiltration and come after him?

As that thought occurred to him, he heard the second hand move once more.

TICK

Listening to it, Bera suddenly realized that the sound was familiar.

Déjà vu.

That was the only fitting description for this strange familiarity.

TICK

The sound was coming from the undergrowth shrouded in darkness.

TICK

There was no presence. No sound of footsteps. Only the ticking of a second hand.

TICK

Suddenly, Bera stepped forward.

It was instinct, not intention. He was moving without realizing it.

TICK

For some reason, the thought that he must follow this sound had entered his mind, and his feet were carrying him into the darkness of their own accord.

TICK

Bera’s foot came down on the dry earth of midwinter.

TICK

The sound grew louder as he gradually drew nearer.

Bera slipped into the darkened forest.

TICK

Then the world overturned in a sudden sweeping rush.

Bera drew a sharp, involuntary breath as his previously dazed thoughts abruptly snapped back into place.

At the bizarre phenomenon unfolding before his eyes, all his senses began sounding an alarm.

The world “flowed.”

The sun and moon alternated. The world flickered.

The bare trees sprouted buds in an instant. Leaves clothed them. Flowers bloomed. Then they withered once more.

Greenery spread across the bare earth, then faded away.

The cycle repeated three times in all.

Twelve seasons passed in an instant. Standing amid them, Bera held his breath tight and watched what appeared next.

PATTER

Footsteps laden with urgency.

Bera turned toward their source, and what came into view was—

‘... Aisha.’

Aisha Dragnoff.

Her body had grown older than it was now. The short blond hair that had rested above her shoulders now reached her waist. Running with a sword clutched to her chest, Aisha was a sight no one could call fine, even in jest.

Her entire body was red, as though she had been submerged in blood. Dirt and dust were caked all over it. Something that might have been blood or tears streamed down her cheeks.

As she ran in that state, Aisha suddenly tripped over her own feet and fell, passing straight through Bera.

THUD

“Ghh...!”

A dull impact and a stifled groan.

Bera’s shoulders jerked in surprise at the sounds from Aisha, who had fallen after passing through him. Then he resumed thinking.

‘... An illusion.’

What he was seeing now was an illusion.

His gaze returned to Aisha.

“Uhhh...”

The older Aisha was making a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream. Her constantly heaving body trembled pitifully.

Bera walked over to her and reached out.

His outstretched hand... failed to touch Aisha, passing straight through her body.

His eyes narrowed.

‘What is this?’

What kind of phenomenon was this?

As he considered that question, Aisha ground her teeth audibly and muttered,

“... I’ll kill them.”

Bera flinched, his fingertips trembling.

“I’ll kill them...”

Aisha rose to her feet. Her eyes, now visible, gleamed and were utterly bloodshot.

KEEEEEN

An ominous cry.

Only then did Bera’s gaze turn to the sword Aisha was clutching to her chest.

‘The demonic sword...!’

His breath caught.

The demonic sword was crying.

“All of them...”

Aisha continued to mutter.

“... I’ll kill them.”

A dark crimson glow suffused the demonic sword.

Aisha staggered away, slipping into the dark forest.

As Bera stared blankly after her—

CRACK

A fracture appeared in space.

CRRRACK

The sky twisted. The ground warped. The forest spread before him began tearing apart in multiple directions.

CRASH

Then the world shattered in every direction.

Behind it appeared the forest where Bera had originally been.

“Hh...!”

Bera’s breath stopped at the sensation of his perception collapsing. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to shake it off. When he opened them again, he flinched at what he saw.

A robed stranger.

Bera thrust his blade forward, lowered his body, and roused his divine energy, immediately taking a stance against the stranger who had appeared without warning.

His gaze bored into the figure.

A robe so thoroughly worn out it could only be called rags. A hood filled with darkness too deep to see within. And—

‘... A watch?’

A large pocket watch hanging around the stranger’s neck.

TICK

The watch’s second hand moved, producing a sound.

The same ticking he had been hearing all this time.

As surprise spread across Bera’s face, the stranger raised a right hand.

The wrinkled, bony hand was half-transparent, revealing what lay behind it. It extended toward Bera with all five fingers spread.

Just as Bera intensified his divine energy—

["Four."]

The stranger spoke and folded down the thumb.