I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist - Chapter 152



152. Wanted (2)

Arjen took the attack from the evil god worshipers on behalf of Bishop Andre. Somehow, it seemed like an action that was unlike him, but also very much like him. I was lost in thought, not even noticing the passing scenery as the carriage shook.

Eshila was silent. She wasn’t particularly watching me. It was just that if I didn’t start the conversation, there would be no unnecessary talk from her side.

The carriage suddenly came to a halt. I snapped out of my reverie and turned my head forward. The carriage continued to shake on its own even after stopping. The horse neighed, crying out. The flustered coachman tried to calm the horse down, and the sounds followed one after another. The sliding door connecting the driver’s seat and the passenger compartment opened, and the coachman poked his head in.

“Um, sir, the horse is not listening to me right now…”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. It just won’t move forward while stopped.”

The scenery outside the window was strange. A sparsely wooded path. The grass was yellow and white, curled at the ends. And about a hundred meters ahead, the village began. The horse stared at the village, its head swinging nervously from side to side in terror.

“The horse is anxious. I’m sorry, but if we force it to move any further…”

“Yes, I understand. We’ll manage on our own from here.”

Eshila followed me out of the carriage. The coachman reluctantly turned the horse’s head around and started going back the way he came, while we were left standing on the road, staring at the village.

“In that village, the evil god worshipers either turned all the people who lived there into their followers or killed them.”

Eshila spoke first as she walked ahead. Her voice was as dry as if the letters themselves were speaking.

“The dead were gathered and burned.”

Saying there would be no one left, Eshila entered the village. The village looked perfectly fine, as if only the people had been removed from the scene. The stores, the market, and the goods displayed on the shelves were all intact. Eshila led me into a building.

“And here, we fought them.”

Blood, corpses, and more blood.

I stood blankly in the middle of the hallway, looking around at the surroundings. Too much information rushed in at once, making my head hurt. The stench of decay, the remnants of sinister magic, someone’s severed leg, the bodies of Inquisitors who died leaning against the wall. I closed the eyes of an Inquisitor whose name I didn’t know.

“[…A terrible thing happened.]”

It was a massacre, literally. There were at least twenty-nine corpses scattered around. Among them were faces I knew and people whose names I knew.

“It seems not all of them died. There were more at the scene than these.”

Eshila seemed to be dealing calmly with their deaths. However, I could clearly see that the fleeting light cast a shadow in her eyes.

“For now, the bishop is not in sight. Did he manage to escape alive?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think the bishop would go down so easily, but…”

Eshila trailed off. There was no change in her voice, but I knew very well that she was not feeling the same inside.

“Are you alright?”

Yes. We exist through killing. Therefore, it is the fate of inquisitors to inevitably be killed by someone. That’s how we are educated and believe.”

To them, death was a matter of business. What about Marianne? She must have lived with such thoughts until she met me and traveled the world together. Education or brainwashing that says not to put emotions into death. Ironically, that was their way of survival.

“There’s not just one trace of them escaping the building. It means that there are others who have escaped with their lives besides Arjen. If they left a signal, we should be able to find out where they fled.”

Completely erasing even the slightest shadow, they began to search for traces of Isylla. Meanwhile, I went deeper. The last hideout of the evil god worshipers. I stared at the door with scratch-like traces left by my fingernails. What was happening inside?

“[The magic power is unusual, Eloy. Do not stay too long.]”

“Alright. I’ll investigate a little more and then go back.”

Blood or something else, streaks like smears were all over the floor, as if drawn by a brush. What they depicted was an inverted pentagram. And apart from that, the room was narrow, empty, and completely bare.

“… Am I being fooled right now?”

“[Their object of worship exists. All the worshipers clearly feel its presence. It means they don’t need complex rituals or altars to chase a nonexistent being.]”

The holy sword added in a bitter voice.

“So rather, they left the room empty because they don’t need a sanctuary.”

The room was chilly as if I had entered a refrigerator. Complete darkness where not a single ray of light entered. The cold magic power I felt with every breath was instinctively attacking my heart, but collided with my mana and disappeared like smoke. I slightly raised my own magic power and observed the reaction of the residual magic.

“It won’t back down.”

The residual magic in the room changed to be quite hostile, instead of backing away. In the thick, boiling killing intent from the entire space, I furrowed my eyebrows. A void deeper than darkness gathered and wriggled like a thread in the center of the inverted pentagram, like tentacles.

“It feels different from calamity. It looks even more dangerous. What on earth is that?”

“[It’s the remnants of an evil god, Eloy. It would be best not to get too close.]”

The holy sword warned in a low voice. At some point, the door behind me had closed, and the light of the lantern flickered and blurred. It seemed as if the light itself was trembling in fear.

“[Call Myungnyugwan. We need to be on alert.]”

I slightly shook my head. I had realized long ago that this energy was strange. However, I also felt the need to explore this energy more.

“No, wait. I have an experiment to try.”

“[What kind of experiment—]”

Before the holy sword could add anything, I took a step toward the mass of magic power. The mass of magic power took on a defensive stance like a living creature. I let down all my defenses against it. Myungnyugwan, the fluctuation of magic power, and the tension in my body. Then, the darkness slowly wriggled and approached.

“[Eloy, it’s dangerous.]”

“I need to confirm it.”

Darkness. Or something darker than that. Perhaps the primordial chaos that existed even before light was born. It approached me very slowly. Like a silken snake carefully watching its prey and measuring its strike. Its tongue hissed and spat out a sharp metallic sound. I heard the holy sword say something, but I didn’t answer and took another step forward.

It’s been a long time.

A chilling voice that echoed in my ears. Before I knew it, I had entered the deep darkness.

I thought I’d try asking if I threw bait, but it was real.

Was that voice the true identity of the magic power that I thought was repulsive?

But you’ve changed.

A deep voice, impossible to tell if it was male or female. The voice seemed to come from within me, and at the same time, it seemed to faintly echo from far away. I felt a creepy sensation, like ice running down my spine, from the inexplicable sense of distance. The breath I drew was sharp. I frowned at the feeling of rubbing prayer against a rough cloth.

Child, why are you still like this?

I was uncomfortable with the word “child.” I defiantly raised my voice and widened my eyes. Listening to it silently, I felt as if my sanity was slipping away. Had something happened to Arlyeon here, in the presence of this darkness?

“Don’t call me like you know me.”

It’s only natural to fear the darkness, child. There’s no need to be ashamed.

“Aren’t you ashamed? Hiding and not revealing yourself.”

A laugh, as if mocking my words, burst out. That voice’s laughter was more than grotesque; it was grating, like the sound of a wet ceramic bowl being scraped with a metal spoon. It seemed like something not human was trying to impersonate a human, or perhaps something that could imitate humans very well was deliberately provoking irritation.

Child, what are you talking about?

After laughing for a while, the voice opened its mouth again. I imagined that something darker than the darkness had created something resembling a smile.

Darkness is me. No, to be precise, darkness is only a part of me.

The voice saying “me” had a certain resonance. Transcendence. Something inexplicable, unless it was him. A being capable of making the world tremble in fear just by referring to and revealing itself.

Do you understand, child? What’s happening right now?

I felt a strange sensation at my feet. It was as if a giant octopus had reached out and wrapped its tentacles around my ankles. I left the octopus to constrict my legs. Very still, very still. But the darkness could not come any closer. I shook off my ankles.

“…But you know, you.”

I’ve roughly finished acknowledging it. There’s no more time to be fooled by these tricks.

“For someone who talks so grandly, you’re pretty weak, aren’t you?”

Sizzle.

A golden circle rose above my head. The surrounding darkness shattered and scattered. As I approached, the darkness retreated, and I drove it back until there was nowhere left for it to run.

You’re treading on ashes and claiming to have extinguished the fire.

“Then at least tell me where that fire is?”

Laughter again. This time, there was even a hint of admiration in it.

You’ll meet that twisted being soon enough, child. Everything follows a predetermined path, especially in your case, child. You’re no different from being bound to that destined path.

“You talk as if you’re the one who bound me.”

No, child. I, too, am firmly tied to that path. The more absolute a being is, the less it can escape the shackles of fate. You should know that.

The voice laughed as it spoke. The darkness was gradually breaking apart, but the voice did not fade.

I can’t stay here any longer. We’ll meet again eventually.

Only a handful of darkness remained, lurking in a corner of the room. I slowly lifted my foot and stepped on the silent darkness. A soft sound, like pouring water on the embers, was heard.

Flicker, flicker.

The light of the extinguished lamp returned. Tinged with a paler blue than before, the lantern illuminated the room unevenly. I wiped away the spell and exhaled a sigh. A lingering chill prowled the space.

“[Eloy.]”

The voice of the Holy Sword finally reached me. The voice was cold, filled with both concern and anger. As I came to my senses, my hand was tightly gripping the hilt of the Holy Sword.

“[Did I not tell you not to do that?]”

“I’m sorry.”

I looked down at the place where darkness had remained. Nothing was left. All that was there was a mere shadow, a result of the light’s counteraction.

“[Did I not say it was dangerous?]”

The Holy Sword’s voice was agitated. It was worrisome enough that I had to comfort it. I lightly tapped the end of the hilt and lowered my voice. I never thought I’d have to comfort this guy. Maybe the world will end tomorrow.

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“It’s okay. I didn’t get hurt anywhere.”

“[…Did I not say not to do that?]”

It’s okay.

I untied the Holy Sword from my waist and hugged it. To get a little closer, if possible.

Startled.

“…What happened?”

I heard the rustling sound of Isilla raising her head, and I turned to meet her eyes. She looked at the Holy Sword in my arms with a puzzled expression and tilted her head, then glanced outside.

“I found traces.”

A faint light-like thing flickered in her voice.

“His Grace the Bishop is still alive.”