Chapter 3: The Price of Salvation

< Claire >

It was the final battle.

Even before the fighting began—no, perhaps even long before that—everyone could feel it. This battle would be the last.

“Hero, excuse me.”

As I entered the tent, I saw Ian sitting with his back to the entrance.

Whether he was meditating or praying, he looked solemn, with his hands gathered on his knees, his head bowed, and his eyes closed.

“Hero?”

I called out once more, and only then did he open his eyes and look toward me. That gaze, that expression.

I fell silent for a moment, forgetting what I was about to say.

It felt as if I could see his noble soul, built up layer by layer from a depth I could not dare to fathom.

“The battle will begin soon. I am here to help you prepare.”

“It is alright. You are now the Grand Knight Commander, Sir Claire. You must be busy just organizing the order…. Besides, I am more accustomed to being alone.”

My heart ached at his quiet, murmuring words and the faint smile that barely brushed his lips.

He looked more precarious than ever, appearing as though he had transcended everything.

The knights had already finished their preparations at dawn and were standing by, waiting only for orders, but since I knew he was politely telling me to leave, I had no choice but to withdraw.

In the end, according to the oracle, it would be this young Hero who would take the Demon King’s head.

One might have blamed the heartless Goddess, but the young Hero, who had barely shed his boyhood, never once showed such a sign.

The Goddess did not promise a future to the Hero.

If the Hero was the token of the promise for the Empire’s future, then where, exactly, was his own future?

I bowed my head, finding it difficult to meet the Hero’s eyes any longer.

“Then, I shall see you in a short while.”

As I gave my final greeting and moved my feet, which were reluctant to leave, the Hero said one thing that made me want to rush back inside immediately.

“Yes. And Sir Claire. No,”

“…….”

“Claire. You must survive.”

The battle began. It was the first and last battle in which the Demon King participated directly.

With a single gesture from the Demon King, countless soldiers fell like autumn leaves.

They didn’t lose their lives instantly, but in the places where the powerful demonic energy brushed past, terrible pain erupted along with black inflammation that looked like burns.

The inflammation spread in an instant, eventually mutating healthy humans into monsters.

Once the Demon King stepped forward himself, most soldiers who could not properly handle mana were rendered incapable of combat in the blink of an eye.

“D*mn it, everyone gather behind me!”

I spread my mana wide to create a massive shield, but it was merely a one-time defense against the Demon King’s power, so I had to constantly consume mana to maintain it.

Since it was the first time the Demon King had personally joined the fray, no one had predicted such a situation.

It wasn’t that we had underestimated the Demon King, but who could have known he could exert his demonic power across such a wide range and distance?

Furthermore, the inflammation caused by the demonic touch spread so rapidly that the priests’ swift intervention was required.

Before the mutation into a monster was complete, the only thing I could do for the soldiers who hadn’t received treatment from a priest was summary execution.

I consoled myself with the thought that they probably wouldn’t want to bite the comrades who were their peers just a few minutes ago.

I had never once lost my composure before, but at the thought that I might lose all these innocent soldiers, my heart sank and a wave of nausea surged within me.

Most of the soldiers in this final conscription were ordinary people gathered by the single hope known as the Hero.

Those with proper training had already been contributing to the war for years.

Fathers, sons, and husbands rolled on the ground, screaming in agony.

Looking ahead, I saw the Hero advancing, his body shrouded in divine power.

Surrounded by that endless divine power that would replenish itself even after being scattered by the demonic energy, the Hero was our final hope.

His armor had long since melted away due to the collision between high-purity divine power and demonic energy.

The sturdy armor had become mere rags, barely hanging onto his body.

As if it were a nuisance, the Hero ripped the fragments of armor from his body and walked toward the Demon King holding nothing but the Goddess’s sacred sword, leaving blood-soaked footprints in his wake.

A living h*ll.

The blood vomited by soldiers whose entire bodies were dyed by black inflammation flowed like a river, and the heads of soldiers who had turned into monsters and been struck down rolled across the earth.

For everyone except the Hero, simply holding their ground was the limit.

Only Zeimer, who looked as if he were tearing down the sky itself, and Felix, who had erected a massive barrier across the earth, were clearing a path for the Hero.

Zeimer, who had been launching large-scale magic from the air, seemed to realize it was useless; he stopped his assault and began to focus on defense.

A massive vortex of mana rose in the air, gradually pushing back the demonic energy in the atmosphere.

Mitchell and the other priests sent forth divine power to match that flow.

The sight of blue mana and purple divine power clustering together to face the storm of black demonic energy across the sky was truly a spectacle, but the sight of the demonic energy gradually gaining the upper hand filled everyone with despair.

We couldn’t retreat like this.

We couldn’t lose everyone while standing by helplessly.

I could taste blood between my clenched teeth.

If I drew power from the depths of my core to the top of my head, I might never be able to hold a sword again for the rest of my life, but it was better than everything ending like this.

I had to try everything I could.

From the earth touched by the demonic energy scattered by the Demon King, grotesquely shaped monsters began to sprout one by one.

Once I completely abandoned the desire to survive, my fear vanished, and my mind actually grew calm.

My task was not to survive until this war ended, but to hold out until the Hero defeated the Demon King.

Looking back one last time, my eyes met Zeimer’s, which were glowing blue as he unleashed his mana.

Yes, I feel the same as you.

The sky was the responsibility of Zeimer and Mitchell.

Therefore, I had to deal with the monsters rising from the ground.

Ilya’s voice, which was in charge of overall command, echoed in my head through the magic tool.

– Claire, withdraw your mana shield and advance.

Every inch of ground was precious.

We had to reduce the area under the Demon King’s influence as much as possible.

After gathering the mana that had been scattered as a shield, I opened my core to its deepest depths and pulled out ‘Essentia,’ the essence of mana.

I felt as if all the vitality in my body was draining away, but I bit my lip and focused on my sword.

The Dragon Sword, Caelum, roared as it greedily devoured the mana.

With all my might, I swung the sword horizontally.

Please, let it reach.

Red mana surged and spread far in a fan shape, centered on the sword’s trajectory.

One can only barely hold on by fighting with the resolve to die.

As I gripped my fading consciousness and swung the sword once more, I finally found a moment to catch my breath.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Ian confronting the Demon King, surrounded by Felix’s golden Dragon Words.

Felix stood tall, having erected a massive golden barrier to prevent any more monsters from crossing over.

Even Felix, who inherited the blood of the dragon, squeezed out his last bit of strength to aid Ian’s path.

In an eternal instant, a purple light erupted from Ian as he fought a bloody battle with the Demon King, brightly tinting the black sky.

Buried in the light that was too bright to bear, Ian could not be seen.

In the sudden silence of the ruins, I could hear nothing but the sound of my own heart beating.

What on earth is happening?

How long had it been?

While everyone held their breath and stared only at the source of the light, black demonic energy suddenly began to devour the light.

Watching the black power wriggle and swell in size made my skin crawl.

Ian was in danger. And so were we all.

Even though I heard the warning sent by my instincts, I couldn’t move my body.

Extreme terror and a sense of helplessness froze me in place.

Ah—so this is the end.

At that moment, when all hope was being lost, a transparent purple light suddenly burst through the demonic energy like a flash of lightning.

And then, it was all over.

In an instant, both light and darkness vanished.

The surroundings were silent, without even the sound of a single cricket.

I stared wide-eyed at the spot where Ian and the Demon King had been, but it took time to regain my sight, which had been blinded by the light after I had exhausted all my mana.

There was no strength left in my body, but I forced my legs to move.

The Demon King had vanished. I could know it instinctively.

But what about Ian?

My pace grew faster. Before I knew it, I was running.

My vision began to return. Was that figure standing over there Ian, or just the remnants of the Hero?

Thanks to my desperate sprinting, I was just barely able to catch Ian in my arms as he began to collapse.

No, that was not Ian.

From Ian, who had gained inexhaustible divine power and mana through the Goddess’s blessing, not a single grain of that pure power could be felt.

Only a demonic energy full of malice could be sensed.

Realizing this, I wailed while clutching Ian.

Despair. I never knew that word could feel so poignant.

Watching Ian, who was soaked in blood and demonic energy with his eyes closed, made me weep tears of blood.

Not only had his noble aura vanished, but Ian’s body itself was not intact.

He was barely holding onto his breath and pulse; his body was shattered into pieces.

The area near his left thigh was nearly crushed, making it a miracle that it was still attached, and both shoulders were grotesquely twisted and dislocated, perhaps having taken the impact directly through his sword.

His ribs were also all broken and likely piercing his internal organs; the sensation felt through my hands was certainly not that of a normal person.

Most serious of all was the penetrating wound in the center of his chest, pierced by demonic energy.

That familiar, unpleasant black inflammation was spreading from the wound.

Even though I knew it was useless, I tried desperately to block the inflammation with my hands, hoping it wouldn’t spread even a little further.

Was it tears or sweat obscuring my vision? Or was it my despair?

Ian, limp as if all his cartilage had melted away, was like a puppet with its strings cut.

His waxen face, which had lost all color, did not open its eyes.

Please, Ian. Please!

I felt a presence nearby and looked up to find that Felix, Zeimer, and even Mitchell were already by my side.

Felix wiped the blood from his mouth and looked down at Ian before shifting his gaze to Ian’s heart, which could be seen through the hole in his chest, still beating.

Fortunately, perhaps because a faint amount of divinity still remained, his heart alone was not yet dyed black.

Befitting a member of the imperial family who inherited the power of the dragon, Felix’s pupils narrowed vertically like those of a dragon.

At the same time, Felix bit his own forearm to draw blood.

The teeth seen for a brief moment were too sharp to be called human.

Felix let the blood flowing from his fingertips drop onto Ian’s heart.

Felix, who would become the Emperor of the entire continent, had decided to save Ian.

I brushed my chest in relief.

Perhaps this body might not be Ian anymore.

No one here was ignorant of the fate of a human who had been tainted by demonic energy.

If it were Felix the Crown Prince, he ought to kill Ian for the sake of the Empire.

However, the Felix standing here now was not the Crown Prince, but Ian’s friend.

Ian’s heart, having tasted the blood of a dragon, would likely be able to exert a bit more strength.

Having bought a little time, Felix quickly regained his composure and issued orders.

“Mitchell, keep Ian alive until we reach the Goddess. And Zeimer, take Ian, Claire, and Mitchell to the temple right now. I will stay here and wrap things up with Ilya. And… please take care of Ian.”

As Zeimer’s magic was activated, I pulled Ian’s body closer into my embrace.

Mitchell, who was reciting a prayer with his hand on Ian’s chest, also pressed closer.

Yes, if it is the Goddess, she will surely save Ian.

Just as Ian had saved us.