Chapter 39: The Principle of the Blade

Nolan didn’t know where he was.

After passing through the bunker’s secret tunnel, the scene before him resembled a temple or palace.

He’d hoped for a maze or cave to maneuver in, but the stone passage stretched straight, leading to an open plaza visible at a glance.

Looking up, he saw stone walls, as if carved from a hollowed mountain, faintly lit by an unknown source despite being underground.

Scanning the illuminated halls and terraces, Nolan found no terrain to exploit—or any escape route.

Luckily, the man called John, injured from his earlier clash, moved sluggishly, dragging his heavy sword, limping in pursuit.

“You kid—stop running!”

“You’re trying to kill me—why wouldn’t I run?”

“You’ll die anyway—can’t you make it easier?”

“Why do you have to kill me?”

“My damned master’s scheming her plots, sent me to guard this place. How should I know why? No intruders spared-”

“Then tell your master you didn’t see me! I won’t tell anyone!”

Nolan shouted.

“You… think this is a game?”

John laughed, exasperated.

They chased and bantered pointlessly until John suddenly stopped.

“You—wait there, I’ll deal with you soon!”

He ignored Nolan, turning toward a prominent stone hall ahead.

Nolan wouldn’t wait to die.

Looking up, he realized the tunnel he’d entered through had vanished.

Recalling John’s ritual of tapping the bunker wall with his sword hilt, Nolan realized the passages were likely magically controlled—

He glanced at John, who entered the hall.

Nolan cautiously followed, keeping his distance, watching closely.

At the hall’s center, built of black obsidian, stood a wooden statue with a feminine body, its head too worn to discern.

‘This must be a temple,’ Nolan thought.

He’d only seen Radiant Church cathedrals, where the Radiant God, described as formless light, had no statues per doctrine.

“Empty—this one’s empty too. Didn’t that devil say there’s Essence of Life Elixir here? This… must be it!”

John reached the statue’s altar, brushing off dust and debris, picking up a finger-length crystal vial filled with amber, honey-like liquid.

He gripped the seal, about to drink.

Swish!

A sharp stone cut through the air, grazing the vial.

John flinched, dodging, shielding the elixir behind him.

“What are you doing!”

Nolan knew the vial likely held a game-changing potion—John couldn’t be allowed to drink it.

He clutched another stone in one hand, his dagger in the other, glaring at John.

“Tch… forgot about this kid…”

John swayed, his black mage wounds worsening.

He didn’t fear stones—but his devil master warned that drinking the Essence of Life Elixir would briefly incapacitate him.

Common knowledge: healing potions, magic, or divine arts cause temporary disability while taking effect.

John eyed the scheming kid, knowing he couldn’t delay.

He had an idea—pretending to guard against Nolan’s stones, he turned, feigning drinking the elixir—

‘Come on, take the bait… No, you’ve got no choice!’

John tilted his head, listening for Nolan’s steps.

The kid, unable to resist, approached—

Clang!

John swung, using his practiced backhand ambush, hearing metal clash.

Turning, he saw Nolan hadn’t been hit but blocked with his cheap dagger.

Though unharmed, Nolan staggered back seven or eight steps, collapsing, his dagger snapping, pieces flying.

Maybe due to his injuries, the result wasn’t ideal.

Annoyed, John held the vial in one hand, raised his sword with the other, ready to finish Nolan.

But the panicked boy, sprawled, threw his last stone like grasping at straws.

“Hah, save your strength!”

John scoffed, not dodging.

Pfft—a blood flower bloomed from his shoulder.

His mind blanked.

The stone shattered his decayed armor, piercing flesh.

‘How!’

John stumbled back, dropping the elixir, which rolled away, panic flashing in his eyes.

***

The moment the dagger broke, it felt like Nolan himself shattered, tearing pain ripping through every muscle.

Yet, strangely, despite pain that should’ve knocked him out, an external force pinned his mind, keeping him conscious.

Calm—the dagger’s enchantment.

But shouldn’t it vanish with the blade?

Why did it persist?

No time to think.

Nolan saw John’s retreat—a flaw.

He kicked off, desperate to seize the chance—

Bang!

Power surged through his legs, launching him uncontrollably forward, crashing into John.

“Urgh!”

Nolan came to, realizing John was down, sword flung aside.

He tried to pin John, but a kick slammed his chest.

John roared, rising, pinning Nolan instead, hand clamping his throat.

“You… how’d you get so strong?”

Stronger?

Nolan’s muscles felt knifed.

John struggled to hold him down, trembling.

Though unclear why, Nolan realized—like a miracle—he’d gained sudden strength.

“Guh, guh!”

His breath cut off, face purple, Nolan stayed calm—magic or instinct, he wasn’t sure.

Thoughts raced.

He steadied, reached with his right hand, hooking the fallen sword.

Pfft!

The sword stabbed John’s neck.

Nolan felt the grip loosen, gasping air, twisting the blade before pulling it out.

Pfft!

Warm blood sprayed his face.

John’s ferocious expression froze, then he slumped, lifeless.

“Huff—huff.”

Nolan’s muscles ached worse, pushing the corpse off, half-sitting, spine trembling.

The pain was unbearable, yet the magic suppressed his cries.

This unnatural state—this sudden power—had a cost.

His already-injured left hand went numb, hanging limp.

Nolan tossed the sword aside, tried to stand, but his newfound strength made him clumsy, falling again.

After many tries, he relearned to walk.

He stumbled forward, stepping over the body, picking up the crystal vial, staring at the gleaming liquid.

From John’s words, this was the Essence of Life Elixir, likely for healing—but was drinking an unknown potion safe?

Still mobile, Nolan decided healing could wait, pocketing the vial as a backup.

He grabbed the sword, collected the broken dagger, and headed to the hall’s corner where the tunnel had appeared, relying on memory.

“Get out first… Don’t know if Leyak knows what’s wrong with me… Ugh, his dagger’s ruined… Gotta hurry—Diya and Kritiya must be worried sick…”

Calm’s magic lingered, but faint emotions slipped through.

Nolan steadied, recalling how he entered—John tapped the wall with his sword hilt to open the tunnel.

Mimicking, Nolan tapped the wall with the sword, matching the rhythm.

No luck.

He reconsidered, then tapped in reverse order.

This time, it worked—the wall flickered, turning shadowy, revealing an upward tunnel.

Relieved at finding a way out, Nolan groped forward, missing that the tunnel’s bricks differed slightly in color from the one he entered.

“No… wait! This isn’t the same path!”

Stepping out, Nolan smelled a foul stench.

Blinking, his eyes adjusted to the dark after seconds.

He saw—not the bunker Leyak sent him to, but a square chamber.

His gaze swept over dozens of dark shapes, large and small, lying as if asleep in the shadows.

Stepping back, his foot stuck to the floor—blood!

He saw clearly—shapes from buffalo and deer to rabbits and hawks, all dead animals.

Their blood, which should’ve pooled, was deliberately smeared evenly across the floor.

‘This place feels like a temple—sacrifices?’

Nolan thought.

Light flickered at the chamber’s far end.

He crossed the corpses, finding the path continued.

A circular, purple-glowing magical array hovered before another door.

Nolan squinted, tossing a stone.

It hit the array, bouncing back.

“Can’t pass? But… I can see something…”

Nolan assessed, stepping closer.

Through the array’s shimmering lines, he glimpsed a blurry scene—ruins, perhaps.

Among them, a twisted, puppet-like shadow leaned against a wall.

‘What’s that? A ragdoll?’

Then the “ragdoll” moved.

The array’s faint light caught blood-soaked silver-gray hair and glowing green eyes, staring with desperate resolve.