Ceramite (4)

Azadine, watching Sir Sork approach him, cast a spell.

It was a dispelling spell. Unless he removed that Riposte Shock flowing through Sir Sork’s body, there was no way to fight him.

Sir Sork, seeing Azadine casting, extended a finger and countered with a counter-spell.

Since Sir Sork’s magical skill surpassed Azadine’s by several levels, Azadine’s dispelling spell was easily broken.

In truth, even if he had not blocked it, Azadine lacked the ability to dispel Sir Sork’s magic anyway.

Even so, Sir Sork countering the spell seemed nothing more than amusement.

“Excellent technique. More precise than most specialist scholars’ magic. Yes… this much is expected of the knight of destiny. Hm?”

At that moment, a strange smoke drifted in.

Unlike the swamp-fog of Biar Marsh filling this place with darkness and mire, this smelled of burning incense.

“Kiiik?!”

The wights recoiled in shock upon inhaling the smoke.

Something mixed into the incense was clearly exerting a strong influence over them.

Then a clear voice echoed through the manor.

“I never imagined a suicidal fool would charge straight into Biar Marsh against Sir Sork.”

A figure dropped between Azadine and Sork and landed. A woman in black nun’s robes stood before Azadine.

“Ah, Niselda. Entering my territory at just the right time. Today is quite a fortunate day.”

This nun was the last member of the Chadra Five Ogres—the half-vampire Niselda.

She burned incense in a censer bound with golden chains and slowly opened her eyes. Bloody tears streamed down from them.

“It’s troublesome that you think of me as a beast kept in your cage, Sir Sork. The darkness of Biar grants me strength as well. I too possess cursed blood.”

The blood from her eyes dripped down and soaked the censer in her hand.

—Ssshhh!

Blood vapor rapidly devoured the smoke.

Following the smoke from the censer, the vapor raced outward, connecting red threads everywhere around them.

Those red threads were attached to the limbs of the wights—and even to Sir Sork’s body.

“This is….”

“Now.”

As Niselda raised her right arm skyward, her hand exploded into blood and spread through the red threads.

The wights panicked and scattered.

Only Sir Sork cast a spell toward the rushing blood.

Bone blades erupted from the ground, cutting the red threads and exploding as they intercepted the blood attack instead.

“For losing an arm, that was a pitiful attack, Niselda.”

“But it was sufficient.”

“Hm?”

At that moment, the manor’s roof and windows shattered and griffins appeared.

“To eliminate your spirits guarding the skies.”

With that, Niselda rushed toward Azadine.

Though she had used massive amounts of blood and was almost corpse-like, she possessed immense strength and lifted Azadine as lightly as a feather.

“Wait! I—!”

“You escape on your own, Sir Selim! You’re too heavy to carry!”

“Ah, seriously! Kids!”

Griffins swooped in, attacking the wights, and some seized Selim in their talons and flew up.

Niselda also mounted a griffin while carrying Azadine and ascended into the sky.

“How impudent.”

Sir Sork cast a spell, and crimson baleful light shot into the griffins.

—Kiiieeek!

The griffins screamed, dried into corpses, and fell.

Yet even so, they calmly shielded Azadine and Selim with their bodies. Sedrin was controlling them with magic.

“Tch?! My children!”

Selim lamented as the griffins died like his own offspring.

‘Damn.’

Azadine closed his mouth at the sight. Ever since surviving through Arael’s sacrifice, he had not met an equal.

Perhaps because of that—

Even knowing the infamy of the Fimbulhorde and the reputation of Sir Sork, he had grown careless.

‘I took it too lightly. I didn’t need to rush.’

Scout first, and if possible, improvise and suppress the enemy on site.

If successful, it was excellent field response—but failure left reckless defeat like this.

By the time they escaped Biar Marsh, only two griffins remained.

Even beyond Sir Sork’s spell range, flying monsters like shadow-winged creatures and undead wyverns appeared and threatened them.

At last they escaped the marsh and landed in the Black Soil Forest, the dwelling of the wild druid Sedrin.

Sedrin had been waiting for Azadine’s group in this forest directly connected to Biar Marsh.

“Tch. Sedrin! Who told you to use my children like that?!”

“Like a drowning man demanding payment after being saved. If the griffins hadn’t risked their lives, do you think you’d be alive here?”

“…Sedrin.”

After dismounting, Azadine collapsed to the ground.

His condition was terrible. Sir Sork and the wights had left him battered all over.

“The Fimbulhorde’s reputation reaches beyond the Chadra Plateau. Charging in with only two people was reckless.”

She carefully cast a spell on Azadine.

It was a regeneration spell based on green mana.

“Hey! When I asked everyone to come together, nobody did! You refused too, Sedrin! And now you call us idiots for going alone?!”

Selim angrily protested Sedrin’s criticism.

“I’m not calling you idiots. I….”

Sedrin sighed deeply and looked at Azadine.

“Hm?”

Azadine blinked at her gaze, sensing she had something to say.

‘This human male… why did he do something so reckless? Don’t tell me…?’

Sedrin examined Azadine.

In truth, Selim’s fall had caused the accident unintentionally, but to Sedrin it looked like Azadine forced a reckless schedule to honor her request quickly.

Why would he? No sane person would challenge Sir Sork so quickly.

Sedrin’s thoughts reached only one conclusion.

This human… liked him.

‘Does he like me? Ah, troublesome. Humans were just meat old folks liked to eat.’

Since losing her kin to Sir Sork, she lived only for revenge as a wild druid.

She barely ate properly, rarely washed, dressed carelessly, and never cared if her skin showed.

But once she had been a beauty admired by human men.

‘But he’s handsome for meat? What were my ancestors thinking? Eating humans like this? Too cute and pretty to eat. Wait—how old is he? He looks younger than me. Even if he likes me, I won’t give in so easily—no, wait, I promised loyalty if Sir Sork is defeated. I meant becoming a retainer… don’t tell me he interprets it differently?’

Before she could resolve the confusion, a voice came from the sky.

Astonishingly, Sir Sork had left Biar Marsh and pursued them here.

“Sir Azadine. You can hear my voice, can’t you?”

Sir Sork floated above the Black Soil Forest atop a wyvern emitting dark blue aura.

Having left his domain, he was weaker than before, yet still an enemy Azadine and Selim—exhausted and blood-drained, and Niselda missing an arm—could not defeat.

However, he could not enter the inner forest due to Sedrin’s forest magic, so he broadcast his voice across it from above with magic.

“Damn it.”

“Don’t even breathe.”

Everyone held their breath as Sork’s voice echoed again.

“Rest assured. I’m not locating you by your reply. It was an enjoyable experience after a long time, Sir Azadine. Pure praise for one who entertained me. Capturing such an opponent with petty tricks would invite punishment.”

All eyes turned to Azadine.

In this situation, Sedrin and Niselda entrusted the judgment to him.

“Why do you envy me?”

“I once wished to be righteous. I joined the Rescue Knights Order to become light and salt of the world—but they betrayed me.”

“From the Fimbulhorde’s infamy, it sounds like you betrayed the Order.”

“Hahaha. I’m merely petty, but they are a dreadful evil. If you are the flower of true chivalry, then the Order is a great evil that must be overthrown. Isn’t that so? What have you seen of them?”

“They weren’t that beautiful. But not evil enough to overthrow. At least better than you becoming undead and murdering and plundering others.”

“Is that so? Sir Azadine… do you know of angel’s blood? What the Order did with it?”

“I heard it’s used to produce ceramite….”

“Correct. I was the mage who participated in that production. I know the secret of angel’s blood. Would you like to hear it?”

“…….”

To the knights of the Rescue Knights Order, ceramite was proof of recognition.

Possessing a ceramite longsword was an honor granted only to contributors, and its method was among the Order’s greatest secrets.

At Sork’s mention of angel’s blood and ceramite, Sedrin, Selim, and even Niselda flinched.

“Rumor says that in Saint Mallory, angels who exhausted their strength for humanity—including the Three Archangels—turned to stone, and their statues shed bloody tears when Jupiter’s power grows strong. Ceramite is made from that miracle, isn’t it?”

Azadine spoke a rumor circulating among mages and the Messenger Clan.

He glanced at Sedrin and Niselda—they nodded in agreement.

They seemed to know only that much as well.

“Hahaha. That’s what is told. But the truth is different. Sir Azadine, our noble Order prefers controlling miracles themselves rather than waiting for occasional ones. Do you understand?”

“Don’t tell me you smash the angel statues?”

When Azadine asked, Selim’s face hardened beside him.

Though a minotaur, Selim was still a Hospitaller. Destroying angel statues was unbearable sacrilege to him.