Chapter 98
Cough, cough!
"Why......"
"Why am I killing you? Keke! You must be curious. Yes, yes. I should tell you. It is only proper to tell you! Why wouldn't I, hahahahaha!!"
Even at a glance, he was not normal.
No, I knew from the beginning he wasn't normal. Yet I didn't know he would be this far gone.
'A miscalculation.'
To think he was such a madman.
I thought he at least had his own line he wouldn't cross.
My unmoving body was paralyzed like the madman's words, unable to budge even an inch.
Thanks to that, the pain was somewhat lessened, but blood kept gushing out in heaves.
Amidst it all, the madman's soliloquy seeped into the Count's ears.
"I pondered for quite a long time. The one who distinguishes the rank of swords is someone with high levels of soul and body. Then why is it that in the relationship between soul and body, some swords breathe fire, and some swords cut through shadows."
After repeating contemplation upon contemplation, I reached a single conclusion.
"What determines that is a powerful wish from when they were alive—that was my conclusion."
Wish.
It means a desperately wanting heart.
And the mental state just before death has a profound influence on determining a sword's ability.
That was the conclusion Guide had reached.
"Among the five Masters of the Kingdom, the sword bearing the Flame Demon is the Phantom Sword we all know. Do you know how its birth came about?"
"......I know."
It's quite a famous story.
The sword of the Witch of Flames, Karina.
The story of the birth of the Flame Demon—Kara was famous enough to be made into a fairy tale.
"They say the Flame Demon's sister, even while her body was burning, fought for half a day engulfed in flames to save her older sister. Isn't that a truly magnificent birth story!!"
Thus, Guide had tried to replicate those conditions many times.
But those who were subjugated by him and forced to burn and fight were beings with terribly lacking caliber.
In a word, they were too weak.
"Therefore, I decided to make you my final sacrifice. Do you understand?"
Count Valentine was retired now, but in his youth, he was quite a formidable knight.
Guide thought that while his body had weakened, his soul would still be strong.
"What are you...... talking about."
"Trala, I mean."
"!!"
"He's quite a bright child. He had the wit to see through the essence of things from just a little I taught him. If he grows up like this, he will achieve great growth."
But that great future growth was the Count's child lying beneath his feet.
"I hear he's quite the precious son to the Count."
There was no need to deliberately start a fire.
For his sword, it was better to nurture the grudges of the dead in his own way.
"What do you intend to do to my son!! If you so much as touch a hair on his head, I'll twist your limbs and chew them up!!"
To think the usually composed Count would get this worked up over talk of his son.
A parent's love for their child is equally devoted whether beast or human, so Guide was truly pleased.
"Kekekeke!! Saying that in that state? Calm down and listen."
"......."
"I decided to season my final sacrifice with the spice of sacrifice as their wish. If you've started boiling mixed corpses, shouldn't you also properly blend the seasoning that will determine the taste?"
"You're insane...... Truly insane!"
Seasoning! Taste!
Is that something a person should be saying!
"Kekeke!! It's a world where committing the unfilial act of making one's father's corpse into a sword is natural. It would be stranger not to be mad."
Chuckling, Guide babbled on as if explaining something he was proud of.
"Sacrifice is noble. A father dying in place of his son—isn't that quite touching and beautiful."
"You bastard......!"
"A life that would die old anyway. It would be nothing better than to be used so preciously. If I mix in the seasoning called sacrifice into my cauldron, what magnificent sword would come out! Aren't you curious?"
In the end, he was saying he'd kill both himself and his son. Count Valentine bit his lips so hard they bled.
"......I won't let you have your way."
"I'm just so curious...... What kind of ability will the born sword possess. Aren't you curious, Count?"
Glaring at Guide's giggling eyes, the Count spoke.
"......Many nobles and knights are stationed in the current county."
"Hmm?"
"There's the Southern Golden Lion Knight Order and the Judge Callius too. Even if you kill me, you'll have no choice but to die as well."
Both the Count and his son would disappear simultaneously. In such a situation, would the Kingdom stay idle?
"A sword? Even if you make a sword, you'll be caught and killed soon. Even if you make me create a sword, I wouldn't be able to make such a great sword."
"......."
When the conversation turned to swords, Guide's expression began to turn cold.
"The only thing you can make in your life will be a cursed blade. A holy sword? Hahaha! That would be a laughable notion!"
"For someone paralyzed, your mouth sure flaps well."
Was only my side less paralyzed......?
I'm not sure if it's because he's a Count that he speaks so well.
"It's not too late even now. Release me. If you do so, I won't kill you out of consideration for that person."
"If I had cherished my life, I wouldn't have been expelled from the cult."
"You damned bastard. Did your mother teach you that? Or your father. Ah, neither, I suppose. They say you were an orphan."
At the sudden insult to his parents, Guide's complexion chilled.
"My mind is changing. Though I've been going back and forth lately...... Cold might not be bad either instead of hot. There are quite a few seething vengeful spirits too. Please maintain that anger until you die. If you do, I'll cherish it lifelong by attaching your name to it."
"I have no intention of begging for my life. If I die either way, I'll die cursing your parents. I hope you had even a shred of love for the parents who abandoned you, you damned madman."
A bizarre smile flowed from Guide's coldly contorted expression.
Puck!
"Kugh......!"
Lifting the Count who was growing cold, Guide grinned.
"Please don't lose that heart."
Rumble.
Above the bubbling, boiling furnace.
Holding the Count by the neck.
Slowly.
Very slowly, he lowered him down.
* * *
-Found it.
It took longer than expected.
They must have hidden it well, as it's already dawn.
"Where."
-The prayer room.
A prayer room.
To think they had the audacity to build such a thing beneath the prayer room.
It's a place where dozens of people come and go daily, yet they thought to build it there.
Now that I know the location, all that's left is to go catch the bastard.
However......
"Why are you here."
"It seemed like you were planning something quite interesting. So I thought I'd join in."
The Golden Lion was also at Trala's smithy. Suddenly barging in, he was asking to be included.
"It's not particularly interesting."
"It will be if I join."
What a busybody.
But it doesn't really matter.
I'm not sure if there will be a setback in killing the Count, but what's important right now is Guide, not him.
The priority had shifted.
Therefore, the Golden Lion would be helpful rather than harmful.
'If possible, it's better to strike quickly before he completes the sword.'
I don't know what kind of sword he'll produce, but since a hundred knights were thrown in, it wouldn't be an ordinary sword.
"But will putting in a hundred knights really make a great sword?"
Did he hear everything from outside?
The Golden Lion's face was quite serious.
Though he had casually asked to join, it seemed he was quite angry from hearing things outside.
I calmly resolved the Golden Lion's curiosity.
"It has been said since ancient times that what overflows is not as good as what is lacking. It will produce great power, but it won't be easy to wield."
"What do you mean by that?"
What overflows is bound to have some flaw somewhere.
"......It might develop a madness similar to the Prince's."
"I see......"
At the mention of the Prince, the Golden Lion's complexion also stiffened.
Carpe's Mad Dragon Sword.
They couldn't not know the fact that the Prince who possessed it had transformed like a beast.
"Whether madness develops or he becomes possessed by vengeful spirits, the result is the same—he'll lose his mind. Let's go quickly before a vengeful spirit-possessed bastard comes out."
"Trala."
"Yes!"
"Guide us to the prayer room."
"Understood."
The Golden Lion and I moved to the prayer room as Trala guided us.
On the way, I instructed the soldiers we encountered to guard this place thoroughly.
I had Orkal wait outside in case of unexpected situations.
If another useless interferer appeared, it would only be annoying.
"It's here. This is suspicious."
When we rolled back the carpet in one corner of the prayer room, slight seams became visible.
As Trala fumbled around and touched something, click! a handle-like thing popped out.
When I pulled it up.
Rattle.
The door was trying to open.
"Ugh, this thing!"
The door looked quite thick and heavy.
Seeing Trala's face turn bright red, I clicked my tongue as the Golden Lion helped him.
Rattle! Thud!
"Pant! Pant! I didn't know it would be this heavy either."
"Your training is lacking. How can you grow with that level of ability."
"I-It's because I didn't get enough sleep."
Just as I was about to retort that it was a pathetic excuse, a quite hot blast of air poured out from the opened gap.
It was quite chilly at dawn, but as soon as the door opened, the entire prayer room heated up.
It seemed they had put considerable effort into making a forge underground.
Until the door was opened, I couldn't feel the heat, but I never expected such a hot blast to rush in the moment it opened.
"Trala, you'd better stay here."
"But......"
"The Golden Lion and I are enough."
Perhaps understanding I meant he'd be a hindrance, he nodded without a word.
I gestured toward the underground to the Golden Lion and went ahead first.
The deeper we went underground, the more the acrid smell stabbing my nose and the bizarre sounds hovering around my ears raged.
It sounded like wind, and it sounded like swords clashing.
But only after I realized it was the sound of hammering did I slowly grasp my sword.
The hammering grew fierce.
It changed violently, like fierce waves crashing against a cliff and breaking.
Thanks to that, our footsteps also quickened.
Our careful footsteps descending turned into running.
And just as we arrived.
"Aah......"
A torn old man's sigh flowed out.
From the center of the spacious forge, a brilliant light of divine power was radiating.
"One step too late."
The sword was completed.
"Haaaaaaah......"
A deep sigh.
Or rather, a voice that seemed like an exclamation.
The mouth of the white-haired old man stretched wide as if satisfied.
In his eyes, an eerie ghostly energy flickered.
"Ugh."
The Golden Lion stumbled, clutching his ears.
I didn't need to ask why.
The ghostly wails of various tones emanating from the sword made my ears hurt.
Tearing sounds and pain-filled screams pounded my entire body.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at the quest window floating before me.
「Sword of Grief」
- A sword made by offering a hundred knights. Various souls are mixed together, unable to blend, and are screaming. Punish Guide, who is not in his right mind due to the vengeful spirits.
[
As soon as I accepted the quest.
The old man's neck twisted grotesquely.
And then he pointed the sword at Callius and the Golden Lion.
Bzzzzzzzt!!
White energy erupted in all directions from the sword.
"Ugh!"
A cold that chilled even the bones.
In an instant, not only the forge but both the Golden Lion and I were frozen simultaneously.
Even that scorching furnace cooled down.
It was an immense cold.