Chapter 97
"Haa..."
Gid.
When I came up with the settings related to him, I thought I might be a genius.
Ever since I first devised the Pilgrim's Sword, I couldn't suppress that desire and came up with many things.
Among them, I prided myself on the episode related to Gid as a story that truly portrayed the twisted desires of a human.
In fact, the reception was quite good.
It was praised for naturally inciting anger in gamers and breathing life into the scenario.
'I never expected it to unfold right before my eyes.'
A sigh escaped me naturally.
Did Slaughter Saint Smith Gid have ties with Valentine?
And Tral was the disciple of the Slaughter Saint Smith?
It was a combination that made my head spin, but this was no time to just sit around.
What I had to do was decided.
"One person a day. I don't know which high-potential knight died today either. Every night, the wails of the unjustly killed knights echo from underground, to the point where I can't sleep all night."
He's a guy with the disposition of a spirit medium.
I wondered why his complexion was so poor, and it seems that was the reason.
"Why me? The Golden Lion is here too."
"Because you are the Judge."
The Golden Lion might be able to kill Gid. But could he really kill Count Valentine as well?
Count Valentine was quite thorough. There was a chance he could weasel out by claiming he didn't know anything.
But my moniker to the world is the Judge.
The Judge who would deliver the innocent ones thrown alive into the blast furnace.
"Please judge my father. And my master."
Tral's voice, speaking through tears, reflected the truth.
I nodded.
"I shall."
"Are you serious?"
He had a surprised expression, as if he didn't expect me to agree so easily.
But from my perspective, Count Valentine was someone I had to kill anyway.
He was in bed with the Empire, and likely one of the Archbishop's subordinates, so killing him was beneficial.
Furthermore, if he was harboring Gid, called the Slaughter Saint Smith, then I absolutely couldn't let him live.
'It's a dangerous task.'
The guy and Gid, individually, were not a threat.
Valentine had power but lacked martial force, and Gid had the means but couldn't forge a sword.
But if the two met, Count Valentine would gain an outstanding Lord Sword, and Gid would produce even more.
If that happened, the probability was high that the first victim of that powerful Lord Sword would be me.
"Alright. Where is he."
"Ah, not right now."
"Why."
"I do not know where the underground blast furnace my master and father hid is. There is no other way but to secretly tail my father the next day."
He doesn't know the way? But how does this guy know the detailed circumstances?
After pondering for a bit, I just asked.
"How on earth did you learn of these circumstances when you don't even know the way?"
"I once caught a glimpse of my master's journal. I saw the approximate schedule there, and inferred the rest from the wails echoing every night. My father's whereabouts were also mysterious every night... so it wasn't that difficult."
He didn't seem to have a bad head on his shoulders.
"Knights were transferred out without anyone knowing, or were told they were going on special missions, but not a single knight who said that ever came back."
"I see. Then there's no other way but to tail him to find the door to the underground."
"Yes. We must strike when my father opens the door."
"...That will take a long time."
But doing it that way would take too long. Staying holed up in the county continuously would also be a bit strange.
Does that mean there's no way?
That's not the case either.
"What is that?"
"A bug."
"A bug?"
"Yes. It will take some time, though."
If it's this, it will find the entrance.
Callius toyed with the Insect Spirit bug and curled the corners of his mouth.
* * *
Every time he went down the stairs, his face flushed from the heat and his breath choked.
This was clearly the heat of a blast furnace.
His brows furrowed involuntarily, and an indescribable filthy smell stung his nose.
However, the face of the knight going down the stairs was quite bright.
"Is this true? To think you will make a sword perfectly suited for me......"
"It is true. How could I let a knight with high potential like you handle such a shoddy Lord Sword?"
The one standing behind the nameless knight was none other than the master of the county.
It was Count Valentine.
He patted the knight's shoulder with a benevolent face. The young knight's face was full of rapture, as if he was deeply moved.
"I didn't know you thought of me that way... My Lord. I will be your sword for the rest of my life!"
"Come now, it's only natural."
In the underground they arrived at, there was a boiling blast furnace and a smithy.
It was a fairly proper facility.
He had worked in the county for several years, but this was the first time he knew such a place existed underground.
"Now, please sit here for a moment. Soon, the master of the smithy will make a sword for you to use. How about praying while you wait? Lord Valeetus must be present for the birth of a sword."
"Ah! I understand."
The knight then closed his eyes and recited a prayer. The Count's eyes grew cold as he watched the knight praying earnestly.
As he looked back and nodded,
an old man who slipped out stabbed him with a sword.
Stab!!
"Keuk!!"
The knight stabbed by the sword vomited blood.
"Why......"
The eyes that expressed doubt soon lost their light and collapsed, but the old man didn't care and skillfully stripped the knight of all his armor and clothes.
"Tsk, did I really have to do this even on a day like this."
At the Count's clicking tongue, the old man.
No, Gid answered.
"It cannot be helped. One person a day. That is our agreement, is it not? Count Valentine."
"Sacrificing as many as a hundred knights is no easy feat. If not for that person's words, I wouldn't have agreed."
To sacrifice a hundred knights.
What kind of situation is this?
Just how much would a hundred knights amount to in terms of national power?
An astronomical cost beyond calculation was essentially being poured into a single sword right now.
"A single proper sword is incomparable to a hundred knights. Even if it were a thousand, it wouldn't be enough."
"......"
Count Valentine let out a sigh as he looked at the blacksmith Gid, who was stepping up the stairs of the boiling blast furnace.
"P-Please, save me......"
Dragging the bleeding knight by the leg, he climbed to the edge of the blast furnace, which was like a giant cauldron, and threw him in without hesitation.
Splash!
The molten iron surged once, but soon settled down and bubbled.
In front of the blast furnace where he threw the knight alive, Gid knelt and began to pray. Toward the dead knight?
No.
Just for the sword that would be created.
For the god who would accept it and wash away his tainted soul.
Even Count Valentine clicked his tongue at that insane spectacle.
"There is not much left now. A hundred well-trained knights. If we pare it down and pare it down again to forge it into a single sword!"
Surely, the long-desired sword would emerge.
"How far can you see?"
"I saw a vision."
"...Cough."
A sword that spews visions.
If it's of the Phantom tier, a hundred knights would certainly not be a waste.
'If it's that, I wouldn't be trembling before that bastard Zerban.'
The reason Zerban was frightening was not only because he was one of the Four Great Nobles and the Hegemon of the North, but also because of a more fundamental reason: the heirloom seated in his household.
The Phantom Sword Callis.
It was because of the Storm Sword—Callis.
The value of a Phantom Sword to a single household was something that dared not be priced.
Just possessing a Phantom Sword skyrocketed the household's rank.
The rank of the sword was, in itself, the rank of the household.
Count Valentine couldn't easily shake off that desire.
"If a Phantom Sword comes out, I will make it a family heirloom, appoint you to a new status, and consider you my vassal."
If it's a Phantom Sword, that would certainly be worth it.
No, it might not even be enough.
However.
"If a worthless sword comes out, I will immediately accuse you of murdering a knight and cut off your head. I will behead you in the county and make an example of you in front of everyone."
By either of those outcomes, Gid and the Count would no longer be able to maintain their relationship.
For he had already schemed as such.
"My ultimate goal is to create a Holy Sword. All the swords that appear in my process will belong to the Valentine family, so please do not worry."
As well as the desired sword.
"Hmm. But does making a sword really work like this?"
"Count."
"What is it."
"Do you know the difference between Lord and Spirit?"
"Hmm... Isn't it the detachment of the soul?"
"That is correct. The detachment of the soul. Just as a bird breaks out of its shell, or a bug molts, only after shedding one layer does a sword acquire a rank fitting of it."
The rank of a sword is influenced by the soul.
A pure soul. A brave soul. A filthy soul.
Gid said, looking pleased at the giant, boiling blast furnace.
"That blast furnace already contains the flesh and souls of 99 people. In the boiling blast furnace, the filth of flesh and soul is purified and mixing at will."
Only one day left.
He looked forward to the time when his aged blood and sweat would bear fruit.
"Then, do you know the difference between Spirit and Phantom?"
"Hmm... I don't know that."
"Originally, the old name for Phantom was Calamity. It was called the Calamity Sword. It is said to mean disaster. Disaster! Isn't that a truly fitting name?"
Gid even rambled on about the Empire's tales, elaborating that the Phantom rank was also called Myeolma, laying out this and that.
"Disaster, huh... Well, considering the abilities of a Phantom Sword, that makes sense. But that can't be considered the difference between Spirit and Phantom."
Gid nodded.
"Yes, Spirit is an awakened soul. Then what is Phantom? Considering that Calamity was changed to Phantom to be called, I think Phantom is the transformation or awakening of the soul. Then, for the soul to change? To awaken, what must be done? I focused on that."
"So, what happened?"
He shook his head as if it was a pity.
"I couldn't find it. But I obtained a clue."
"Is this it?"
The Count motioned to the blast furnace with his chin.
"Yes. A hundred knights' worth. The flesh and soul of a hundred high-potential knights. If we combine them into one, the soul will undergo a transformation."
Keukeukeu.
An unpleasant laughter echoed underground.
"But since it's a hundred knights' worth, won't the size be quite large? If you make a sword out of that, several swords will come out."
"That is precisely why the hammer exists, is it not? I will beat it and beat it again to filter out the impurities. I will beat it and beat it to forge only a single sword."
The one and only sword to offer to the god.
A sword worthy of satisfying the god and bringing the flesh and soul to peace.
The sword that will apportion only glory!
"I have already finished the design."
It was a peculiar structure.
The sword's blades were stacked layer by layer, allowing it to extend like a whip or be used as a longsword.
After examining the design, the Count looked at Gid and asked.
"It's a peculiar sword. Have you decided on a name by any chance?"
"Yes."
Fingering the design, Gid formed a faint smile.
"Valentine."
"...What?"
"I named it Valentine."
Stab!!
"Keu-eok!!"
Crash! Bang!!
Gid, having stabbed Valentine and pinned him to the wall, laughed madly as he watched him continuously vomit blood.
"I congratulate you on becoming the hundredth knight, Your Excellency the Count! Hahahahaha!!"
"Y-You crazy bastard... Was this your plan from the start?"
"Do you think a Phantom Sword will come out just by throwing a hundred high-potential knights into the blast furnace and forging them? Nonsense. Melting a hundred nobodies will only result in a slightly bigger nobody."
"You deceived me... Keuk."
"The one who got deceived is at fault."
He tried to raise his hand, but his body wouldn't listen. Gid looked pitifully at the trembling Count Valentine, clicked his tongue, and shook his head.
"No way. Soon your whole body will be paralyzed and won't move. I didn't tell you, but this is another of my masterpieces. A Paralysis Sword belonging to the Spirit tier. Even a decent demonic beast wouldn't be able to move for an hour if struck by this dagger."
Only Gid's giggling laughter echoed eerily in the blast furnace.