Episode 36
Sallet's body trembled in fear.
‘…Why, why is it here?!’
Worm Pest, the plague that creates undead!
The moment she saw it, Sallet couldn't move her body.
Seeing that, old memories naturally surfaced.
The shrieking screams of countless people. A burning city and those fleeing.
They had fought to protect, even while suffering. They had struggled endlessly, resisting to endure.
But… that resistance had collapsed so futilely that it was rendered meaningless.
‘Why… why…! Why is the plague that destroyed Hanes here!’
Exactly fifty years ago, the great empire built by the demi-human race that had shaken the continent—the Hanes Empire ruled by Demon King Kalib—had collapsed.
It was precisely because of the plague, Worm Pest.
As undead, they ruthlessly killed, massacred, and devoured living creatures. And through endless marches, the nation called Hanes had eventually perished, leaving behind only its name in the continent's history.
However, the records in history merely stated that it had been destroyed by the ‘Twelve Heroes.’
Seeing the Wights, the events of that time returned to her in full detail.
The sight of countless soldiers who had fought to protect her being devoured without even being able to resist was still vivid before her eyes.
Their screams seemed to echo in her ears.
She wasn't afraid of mere humans. But these were terrifying.
The Wights, driven solely by ravenous hunger, were what Sallet feared.
‘I hate this….’
Strength drained from her entire body at the resurgence of old trauma.
‘Please….’
Her body temperature dropped sharply, and her body trembled.
Even though her body was cold, cold sweat flowed, and her spine chilled.
‘Make them disappear from before my eyes!’
Just then, a Wight lunged at the area enclosed by a transparent semicircular wall of defensive magic. Sallet was startled and looked ahead.
A grotesquely twisted face was staring directly at her.
Its mouth opened, and thick black blood and maggots poured forth.
“……!”
The Wights, seemingly unable to see the transparent barrier, repeatedly swung their arms, bashed their heads against it, and opened and closed their mouths wide.
They were like beasts gone mad with the desire to consume prey.
Sallet held her head and trembled in fear.
Had her prayers reached the heavens?
The Wights that had lunged were all sent flying by the head of a Morningstar that came soaring in.
“……?!”
Sallet looked ahead, startled.
Before she knew it, she saw Loki evading the attacks of a Wight Knight near where the defensive magic had been cast.
***
“…That was close.”
Luckily, the Morningstar had glanced off the defensive magic. If it had directly struck the defensive magic instead of the Wight, the barrier would have collapsed.
‘This… was more fun than I expected, so I couldn't pay attention to that side.’
A smile formed on Loki's face naturally.
He was feeling ‘fun’ in battle for the first time in three years.
Yes, simple fun.
It wasn't a thrill or excitement from fierce combat. That was reserved for when one met an equal opponent.
But right now, the sight of ‘inferior bugs’ running amok was so absurd that nothing but laughter came out.
‘Yes, it's absurd.’
Wasn't that massive bulk staggering around and swinging a Morningstar?
Flailing desperately to catch its prey, completely unaware of how wretched it looked.
Not just the Wight Knight, but countless Wights charged from the surroundings.
They had once been human. But now they had become undead.
To Loki, that fact held no value whatsoever.
To him, whether undead or human, anyone who bared their fangs at him would unconditionally….
“I shall burn you away.”
…simply be burned away.
Loki lightly swung both hands to face the Wights. He moved smoothly, dancing with his footwork.
Merely touching the flames in his hands caused whatever they touched to vanish without even leaving ash—complete ‘obliteration.’
Merely swinging his hand from left to right split a Wight's upper and lower body apart, and it vanished.
Swinging from top to bottom split its body left and right, and it disappeared.
The Wights disappeared so pathetically compared to their imposing vigor.
It was like vampires in a movie disappearing upon exposure to sunlight.
Loki closed his eyes and listened, falling into appreciation.
The sound of his own footsteps, the sound of flames burning in his hands, the wails of the undead—all of it felt like music.
Loki savored and enjoyed music that was entirely different, like noise, devoid of any rhythm whatsoever.
And that music was….
…Thud!
“…….”
…it was interrupted.
A hand stretched out from the floor near Paul, who was manifesting defensive magic. That hand mercilessly snatched Paul's leg, and then a Wight's face burst through the floor and bit down on Paul's leg.
“Uuaaaack!”
Paul's scream echoed in the pitch-black darkness.
His leg caved in, and blood sprayed out.
“…….”
For an instant… Loki's movements stopped dead.
Frowning at the irritation of his appreciation being broken, he looked at Paul, who had been caught by the Wight.
At that moment, a hand burst out from where Loki stood and grabbed his leg. And other Wights crawled up from the floor as if climbing out of hell, trying to tear into his body.
These worthless bugs dared to rush at him to eat him.
They soiled Loki's body with foul-smelling vomit and disgusting maggots.
Genuine rage welled up within Loki.
“You bugs—!”
Loki raised his foot and stomped the head of a Wight crawling up from the floor.
Blood and maggot-like Worm Pest splattered in all directions, soiling Loki's clothes as well, but he no longer cared about such things.
His body changed in an instant.
His head was enveloped by a goat's helm with spiraled horns, and his entire body transformed into jet-black armor with a glossy sheen, as if draped in darkness.
Burning gauntlets with hook-like fingers were equipped on both his hands, and a dark brown cape fluttered over his shoulders.
Loki's eyes blazed with red light.
He was not a human wearing a crow mask. He was an existence with a heterogeneous sense of incongruity that should not exist in this world.
The Wights flinched at such majesty and stepped back.
‘Fear’ flooded them, creatures that possessed only two instincts: hunger and reproduction.
The Wights trembled, not knowing what this emotion was. And the method they chose was only one: to ‘attack,’ just as timid carnivores were wont to do.
Dozens of Wights rushed at once.
“Jormungandr, Fenrir!”
At his cry, black haze flowed out from the jet-black armor.
That shadow gradually generated jet-black flames, transforming into the head of a giant wolf and the head of a snake.
The heads of those beasts, connected to the armor as if it were their body, growled and flicked their tongues, awaiting their ‘master's’ command.
And….
“Devour them.”
At his brief command, they moved without hesitation.
The necks of the wolf and the snake stretched out unfailingly.
Enormous maws opened, and merely touching their mouths caused flesh to crumble and be sucked in.
They ate the Wights without leaving anything behind.
There was no savoring of taste. The snake and wolf simply ‘ate.’ Because their master commanded it, they obeyed.
The monstrosities that destroyed the world in Norse mythology.
The master who had created the snake and the wolf merely watched with his arms crossed.
In the blink of an eye, everywhere the darkness passed was wiped clean.
The Wight Knight swung its Morningstar at Jormungandr and Fenrir, but the moment the Morningstar touched their bodies, black flames erupted, and it evaporated completely.
-......?
When the Wight Knight looked at the Morningstar that was now only a handle, Jormungandr and Fenrir changed their target to the one who dared attack them.
The snake and wolf lightly bit the Wight Knight's arms and legs as they passed by.
As the Wight Knight's massive body lost balance and collapsed, losing one arm and leg, the two beasts took turns tearing off and eating its flesh.
Floating in the air, within mere seconds, not even a bone fragment or a single drop of blood remained before it disappeared completely.
All the Wights that had been there vanished.
All that remained was a single Wight that had been charging at Paul.
That Wight was so preoccupied with eating Paul's leg that it hadn't noticed. As if oblivious to its kin dying around it, it was completely absorbed in devouring one of Paul's legs.
Rapilta and Alber had already lost consciousness long ago. Sallet stared blankly at Loki, her soul seemingly drained.
Loki approached that Wight. And he stomped on its head, crushing it.
“……?!”
Paul was no different from Sallet.
Even with the pain of his foot being eaten and the bleeding, he had no time to care, not even about the Worm Pest infection.
He could only look at the ‘demon’ standing opposite the god before his eyes.
He didn't have the strength to muster his voice. He merely trembled in fear, gazing at him.
“…Your condition doesn't look good.”
Paul flinched at the cold voice but came sharply to his senses.
The pain in his leg and the Worm Pest spreading throughout his body caused him to scream.
“Uwaaaaaack—!”
Blood gushed out in spurts from his leg, of which only a mangled thigh remained. Moreover, wriggling worms in the wounds on his thigh quickly burrowed through Paul's skin.
Vein-like, alien skin wriggled as if climbing up to Paul's face.
Soon, his skin turned pale, and blood flowed from every orifice—eyes, nose, ears.
“Aah… aaah…!”
The scream that seemed like it would tear his throat gradually lessened.
“Sa, save me…! I don't want… to die!”
Paul cried out.
Whether it was directed at the god he believed in or the demon before his eyes, he couldn't tell.
He simply didn't want to die. He didn't want to die so futilely.
There were still many things he wanted to do.
He wanted to learn much magic, experience many things. Even if it had been for a mission, he wanted to travel more with Rapilta and Alber.
But… now everything was over.
No matter how strong one's immunity, unless they were a divine power user, it was hard to resist Worm Pest infection.
Moreover, he was not physically trained; there was no way a mage could endure such a plague.
There were only two ways to cure this plague, which even rendered magic useless.
One was the holy water of the high priest of the Holy Order, and the other was an all-purpose potion with no credibility, spread as a baseless rumor.
They had already used the holy water long ago. So… only death remained. No, he would become an undead without even dying!
“Save… me… plea… se…!”
With those words trailing off, Paul lost consciousness.
Gradually, spasms began to run through his body. The Worm Pest had begun to turn him undead.
Watching that sight, Loki tilted his head slightly.
His eyes shone with curiosity rather than concern.
“…This is also a minor connection, I suppose.”
It was a connection made on his first journey.
They had left a favorable impression on Loki, and it had been brief but somewhat enjoyable.
Loki took out a recovery potion and an antidote potion from within his robes.
“If that connection is severed here, it would merely be a pity to me.”
Loki moved his fingers to open the lids of both potions. And he poured them into Paul's mouth.
“I don't know if this will be effective. I haven't tested it against the plague. So be my test subject. If you live, it's good luck, and if you're unlucky and become undead….”
The red light of the goat blazed.
The potion dripped and seeped into Paul's mouth.
“I shall grant you rest.”
Shortly after… Paul's body gradually began to regenerate.