1080. The side that started the fight is
Overdeer helped stage a play to package Seiki—who could rightfully be called a true saint—as something the devil could easily devour, and in the process, she felt the greatest pressure of her life.
What happens if I fail?
The death of Seiki, who played the role of a saint? It is sad, but not something unbearable.
However, what if the demon realizes he has been deceived and causes chaos, triggering the Holy War against the Demons? What if the plan goes awry and the battle begins at a disadvantageous time and place?
Now, whose fault is that?
It couldn’t be entirely his fault. It was Emperor Noah who stepped forward, and it was hosted by a cheeky member of the Border Guard.
Still, he was the one who had taken the lead.
He recalled what the Emperor had repeatedly said.
“Commander, if we fail, will the Holy War break out?”
That crazy bastard Seonghwang.
I wonder why he starts by bringing up the term “Holy War of Demons” out of the blue.
No.
To think I was muttering curses to myself was due to my lack of self-discipline. Overdeer held onto his wits.
It was a remark meant as encouragement for him to succeed at all costs. It wasn’t meant to mock him.
It was the result of his faith that the Knight Commander would not waver even under such pressure.
If things go wrong, it’s a war between the Holy and the Demonic.
“You bastard.”
Still, it was undeniably a phrase that kept coming to mind.
Overdeer led half of the Holy Knights, moving to chase Seiki while keeping a certain distance. In a way, the Holy War had already begun.
If it fails, it won’t be the Holy War.
We have effectively started the fight. A resounding success. Though the
Legion didn’t start it in the first place.
You lunatics.
From the moment the Ragged Saint volunteered to step forward himself, he had no excuse to back out.
Even if he had, he would have stepped forward. Who else but himself would have stepped forward for a matter where a mistake would leave a stain of notoriety in the Legion’s history for generations?
It was an act of atonement for his own transgression of allowing the Legion to be put in danger at one time.
Of course, he did not feel responsible for everything that happened in the past, nor was everything his fault, but Overdeer believed that he bore some responsibility no matter what. After all, he was
the Commander of the Holy Knights and a key figure in the Legion’s power at that time. He had just
managed to buy a moment to rest after repelling the swarming monsters. He received contact from the witch Esther. A priest proficient in holy spells took a small hand mirror from his bosom and spoke.
“It is a request for backup. They want you to come and rescue the hostages.”
Overdeer thought for a moment and then answered.
“Only five of us are moving. Ropel, Roa, Ratel, Bert, and Sillain. Follow me.”
Instead of a knight order with a bright future, they were five men who had entered middle age. As time passed, talk of retirement would naturally arise.
Those who had been summoned instinctively felt that if they followed Overdeer, they would have to risk their lives.
Lord.
Silaine muttered. She was the only female knight. She placed her hand on her chest, where the necklace with the locket, containing layers of photos of her long-deceased husband, daughter, and son, used to hang.
“Grant abundance to this land.”
“Goddess of the Scales, I praise your heart that tilts nowhere.”
Each person offers a prayer.
“let’s go.”
Overdeer spoke to the five who were stepping forward.
A knight from the Border Guard had come to Saint Seiki’s side. Besides, if it became too dangerous, we could simply withdraw at any time.
To add to that, there were dozens of scouts from the Legion nearby.
They were constantly finding and reporting on the monsters and beasts appearing in the area. The conclusion was that there was no danger here.
Then where is the danger?
It was a diversionary tactic. In reality, with this side used as bait, the harpoon aimed at the target was likely thrusting in from the other side.
That side was the main force. It must be a much more dangerous situation.
The fact that hostages were mentioned in the midst of this meant something was definitely seriously messed up.
Overdeer moved straight to the location where support had been requested.
Run.
They couldn’t mindlessly exhaust all their stamina. Yet, since they hadn’t arrived on warhorses, they had no choice but to run on two feet.
Overdeer and the five ran at a gallop. Although they were clad in makeshift plate armor, including breastplates, this pace didn’t drain their energy.
Not that they had the luxury of cracking jokes, though.
Only the clacking of the armor echoed.
By the time they arrived, a Beastman from the Mad Knights was moving a hostage behind him, almost tossing him.
Strangely, the sky was darker than before, and a foul stench that made one instinctively grimace wafted from the surroundings. It felt
like entering a den where a pack of bears was holding a mass meeting, or perhaps a barn on a farm full of cattle.
In the past, livestock and houses were shared, but now everyone builds separate barns. That is why it was a smell that was familiar yet unfamiliar.
For some, it would be strange, while for others, it would be familiar.
One of the Legion’s Knights was accustomed to such a stench, having lived in a house right next to a barn during his childhood.
It was a man named Bert. He was the only one who knew that the smell emanating from the present wasn’t the foul stench of livestock.
Rather, it was closer to the smell of a wild beast. The kind of smell that sends shivers down your spine just by sniffing it.
Bert furrowed his brows deeply.
“heartbreak.”
The Prophet Overdeer was a master of fighting who foresaw the future and drove his opponents into the shape he desired.
This was akin to knowing exactly when to intervene and when to back out.
Overdeer did not answer Bert’s words immediately.
Should he get involved or not?
His eyes fell upon a strange figure with golden horns just rising from the tree-lined embankment over there.
Wait, is it a strange figure? Is it a monster? The horns on its head stood out particularly. It must be a monster.
It’s time for the penalty drink.
He opened his mouth to speak, and it was very peculiar. It was as if I had heard his words before he even opened his mouth to speak. Should I say that his will was conveyed first, and the sound of his voice followed shortly afterward?
“Oh, how did you know I like alcohol?”
In the midst of this, the voice of a barbarian among the madmen reached his ears.
Overdeer felt the momentum of those about to start a fight mingling in front of him; it looked like a situation where individuals of different colors, thoughts, and ideologies were on the verge of finally drawing their swords to stab each other.
In other words, one might say they seemed absolutely incompatible.
The moment he saw them, he instinctively felt revulsion and disgust. His stomach churned.
Was it because of the smell? Being a knight, Overdeer felt only discomfort and revulsion and was not easily shaken. But the five who had followed him were different.
Oops.
Ropel raised his hand and covered his mouth. Ropel felt his stomach churn even more as the smell of the thin leather lining the inside of the gauntlet stung his nose.
“Take the hostages and get out!”
Suin shouted. At that shout, the pungent stench vanished in an instant. The scent of flowers and grass seeped in through it.
“You are in front of a devil who loves to play games. Getting out of here is helping him. You human who worships God.”
Sinar Kirhais, the Elf Knight. Her cloak fluttered even though there wasn’t a single breeze.
Overdeer glanced at the face of the man standing before the golden monster that had just risen. Demon
Slayer, Hero of Salvation, Friend of the Holy Emperor, Knight of Bewitchment. He was a man adored with all sorts of nicknames. His name was Enkrid, the Captain of the Order of the Mad Knights.
He smiled. It was a smile clear and bright enough to captivate even a man, not just a woman.
It was an expression that was completely out of place against the dreary, gray sky filled with dark clouds, yet he smiled.
‘why?’
It was because he was excited. The reason he was excited was that he was looking forward to fighting the demon ahead. Just by looking at him, I felt like I could understand his state of mind.
We fall out.
Overdeer hoisted two hostages onto his shoulders and flew backward. The remaining five moved as well. The Beastman and the Fairy briefly assisted him. As
they escaped with all the hostages, a few more shadows were seen flickering behind the Golden Monster.
“……Do you not have to help?”
Ratel, who had suffered in many ways since childhood because he was steadfast but dull-witted, asked.
“We—no, I don’t have a place to join in either.”
Overdeer was slowly considering retirement. Although he said his body was in good health since becoming a knight.
Have I become better than I was yesterday?
It was difficult to answer this question. I had merely lived a life of enduring today. All
I wanted was to hurry back, forget about the Holy War or whatever, go into my small room, and spend the whole day praying.
I couldn’t say my spirit was broken, but there would be no further opportunities for me to step forward other than training the next generation.
Overdeer watched those moving forward toward a new world. For no reason, Noah’s words came to mind once again.
“I wish for the Holy War to break out. I do not want to be merely bred and satisfied with the peace given by the demons of the Demon Realm like this. That is why I desire the Holy War.”
These were Seonghwang’s last words before leaving. When he asked, “If we fail, will it be the Holy War against the Demons?”, he meant that they had to succeed to fight them properly.
“Fight and win. And thus, shine the sunlight of tomorrow. Shatter the gray sky. Go, for the light of the Legion shall shine upon you.”
Overdeer diligently carried the hostages while reciting a prayer.
* * *
“Help. Assist.”
The demon Burning Crow sent a message before the fight. It was directed at those who shared the realm of the Demon Realm.
“Send me something—Pure White, Distrust, or corpse-loving bastard. Otherwise, I will declare war on one of the three of you at dawn tomorrow.”
If the two fight, the remaining two benefit. However, who the two would be that suffer the loss was essentially in the hands of a crazy goat.
“So send reinforcements. Use your power. Otherwise, I will stand with the arrogant mortals and die with one of you.”
One who risks their life to attack was far more terrifying than one who schemes for their own gain.
This was no different for demons.
They had not achieved immortality in the truest sense; they had merely made it this far by struggling desperately to avoid death.
What could be most important to those thrashing about to buy time to ascend to the heavens?
The resources they had accumulated? Rather, it was the crushing of their goal of ascension. That was what death was. Beyond the loss of accumulated resources and assets, it meant the end of everything.
You crazy bastard.
The loner of distrust grumbled, but he did not entrust his future to gambling.
Although he did not go himself, he selected a few subordinates forged by his power and sent them as the Burning Crow desired.
Next was the Pure White Destroyer.
“You kill the witch.”
As is typical of all Lords of the Demon Realm, he intended to simply take this opportunity to get rid of what he disliked rather than calculate the gains.
That is the nature of a witch. He is a fighter with his fists. A fighting spirit like that of a Balrog was his very essence. That is why he despised those who deceived the world with spells.
Why should things exist that do not prove themselves with sweat and blood?
He selected one of his possessions and sent it out. Seven immaculately dressed shadows rose and left the pure white land.
“Seriously, why is this crazy bastard acting like this?”
The owner of the alias “The Gate That Ends Life,” who impersonated the Gray God and called himself the father of all the dead, let out a deep sigh.
It seemed that if he kept his mouth shut and let it slide, the mad beast would lunge at him to bite.
Life is really tough. Seriously.
I felt like I had already suffered a bit of a loss because of the human swordsman who had subtly taken over my territory.
I couldn’t possibly get into a brawl with a wild beast here.
“Son, you’re going to have to step up.”
The man he called his son approached. He was a fully armed man clad in white plate armor from head to toe, with a long sword and two short swords strapped to his waist, and even a kite shield slung over his back. He
was not particularly tall, but his build was not small. Even while wearing plate armor, the solidity of his muscles was visible.
In the first place, such armor could not be worn by a frail person.
The weight of the armor alone would be considerable.
However, the strange thing was that while True Silver is famous for its power to repel evil, the armor he wore was solid True Silver. In other words, it was armor incompatible with the demon he served.
“Don’t come too close. My head hurts. Son.”
“Yes, Father.”
His name was Skar. He was a
great man who became a knight while training alone in the mountains, and after descending, proved himself by defeating many strong opponents, only to suddenly vanish without a trace one day. His time wandering the continent was so short that he was the protagonist of stories known to those who knew him and unknown to those who didn’t; even when someone who happened to witness his battles told him various tales, they were dismissed as half-bluff
. His alias during his active years was the “Invincible Knight.” It was a title given to him because he had never actually lost a single battle.
Matching this alias, he named his engraved weapon “Victory.” He lived solely for victory. He was a man who fought to win.
Winning again and again was the only way to prove himself.
Then, in the first battle where he suffered a defeat, he saw the light.
“Will you try living again? Will you not end it here, but keep fighting and fighting to taste the joy of victory?”
And so, he served his new father.
I, Skar, will fight once again under my father.
It may sound like it was over in an instant when put into words, but in reality, there were many narratives and stories.
Naturally, it was a setup laid out by the Father of the Dead to weave Skar into himself.
“Go, Skar. Go and make your name known.”
Was Skar certain of victory? He wasn’t. He simply knew that he had to concede this much to prevent the Burning Raven from causing trouble, and he didn’t think there was absolutely no chance of winning.
In any case, it was a fight. It was the other side—the mortals of the continent—who had initiated the fight.
