Chapter 17: Being the Brother of a Hero

Chapter 17: Monster Hunting (3)

To most people, it sounds natural, but in a one-on-one battle between a knight and a mage, the knight usually has the upper hand.

Especially in such a confined space.

A knight of a certain caliber can cut off his opponent's head before they even make a move.

"Huh."

However, Wernard's sword, contrary to convention, failed to pierce Shane.

"An elemental spirit... I see."

Wernard sheathed his sword, letting out a low grunt.

What are elemental spirits, after all?

They are extremely rare beings, so rare that even Wernard, let alone ordinary people, has only seen a handful of them.

'I've hardly ever faced an elemental mage before.'

Moreover, a dark elemental spirit contracting with a human?

The word "complacency" was erased from Wernard's mind.

"An elemental spirit. And an energy-absorbing ability? This is the first time I've seen such a case. But can you really absorb this strike?"

Wernard was indeed a seasoned knight.

Not only did he grasp the power of the elemental spirit Shane possessed from just that one clash, but he also came up with a countermeasure.

As he said, the ability of darkness itself is "absorption."

The fact that Wernard's sword was blocked just now was because the dark elemental spirit absorbed the energy from Wernard's sword.

Realizing this, Wernard decided to end the battle quickly rather than drag it out.

'Excellent judgment.'

As if in response to Shane's thoughts, Wernard's stance changed.

Pulling his left arm back and holding his sword with his right hand, Wernard's thrusting motion resembled a fencing epee.

"Haat!"

With Wernard's battle cry, a flash of light shot from his hand.

Just as the sword was about to pierce Shane's heart.

'...What?'

Wernard saw Shane cutting his own hand with a dagger.

At the same time.

Wernard's vision darkened.

* * *

Not long after the darkness receded and the basement was illuminated again by the glowing stones.

"...What was that?"

Wernard, who first checked his own body, realized there was nothing wrong with him and was puzzled.

What exactly just happened?

'That guy?'

Before Wernard could grasp the situation, a sobbing cry reached his ears.

"W-Wernard..."

"...?!"

There, a young noble with tears in his eyes was calling Wernard's name.

Behind the young noble, Shane, holding a dagger to the boy's neck, was looking at Wernard.

"Y-Young master?!"

No, wait.

Wernard, a knight who had remained loyal for over twenty years, nearly lost his composure at the sight of his lord's son, but quickly regained his calm.

It was almost superhuman patience.

The opponent was using an unknown power.

Given that he had contracted with a dark elemental spirit, he might be using a mental attack.

So, if this young master is an illusion?

He would make this scum understand what pain worse than death feels like.

As Wernard's magic filled the basement, it analyzed the magic of all living beings present.

"...!"

Unfortunately, reality did not go as Wernard had hoped.

"How... how?"

From the young master detected by Wernard's senses, he felt the same magic power he had always sensed.

For the first time, a crack appeared on Wernard's face, which had remained calm until now.

"W-Wernard... I'm scared... It's too cold here..."

"Raaaaaah!!"

Wernard's roar filled the basement, and only then did Shane speak.

"Quite amusing."

"What?"

Shane's words made Wernard's eyebrows twitch.

"Just because you treat other races as less than insects and destroy them like objects, you have a child you cherish?"

Gritting his teeth, Wernard gnashed his teeth at Shane's words.

How dare he compare his young master to such filthy trash?

This thought rose to the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

While the young master was in the hands of this scum, he was in a thoroughly inferior position.

Clang!

Wernard's sword rolled on the floor.

"What do you want..."

It was a declaration of surrender, spoken through gritted teeth.

And Shane's response was utterly emotionless.

"Nothing."

"What...?"

Before Wernard's reaction could even finish, Shane slit the young noble's throat with the dagger in his hand.

"Kiiiiik–!"

The sound of air escaping from the boy's throat, mixed with blood, echoed grotesquely in the basement.

The boy, with a face drenched in blood and tears, looked at Wernard, his eyes rolling back as he fell to the cold floor.

"Uuuh."

Seeing this, Wernard staggered as if his legs had given out, walking towards his young master.

"Aaaah, Aaaaaah!"

The innocent smile of the young master, who once said he wanted to become a knight like Wernard, flashed through Wernard's mind.

"Kaaaaaah!"

Memories related to the young master flooded his mind, making it impossible for him to regain his composure.

A splitting headache overwhelmed Wernard.

Pain, despair, and grief.

These emotions began to fill Wernard's inner self, turning into a massive, uncontrollable blade that tore him apart.

He wanted to immediately draw his sword and inflict a pain worse than death on the young master's killer.

But Wernard's body wouldn't move as he wished.

The world turned red, and darkness gradually consumed him.

At the end, all he saw was darkness.

* * *

"What... what is this...?"

Dyra, who had been silent since Wernard entered, found it hard to understand the current situation.

When light returned to the basement, which had been filled with darkness.

Dyra felt a chill.

Shane, who had been standing there, was almost torn apart on his side.

But despite Dyra's worry, Shane seemed to be standing fine.

On the contrary, it was Wernard, who was facing Shane, who looked strange.

"What, what's wrong with him?!"

As Dyra said, Wernard, standing alone, twisted his face like a demon, then a clear tension appeared on his face, and he began to wail like a madman.

"Hahahahaah!"

"Haa, haaaaah!"

"Aaaaaah!"

Dyra's face turned dark with fear.

"Damn, why is he so scary..."

"He's being devoured."

Shane, who had already stopped the bleeding, answered.

"Devoured... by the elemental spirit you controlled?"

"No. He's being devoured by the result he created."

"What are you talking about, this guy?"

Shane didn't continue his explanation.

Though he appeared calm, Shane knew his injuries were not minor.

'Dangerous.'

Indeed, Wernard was a dangerous enemy.

Even if Shane had been the commander of the first legion in his previous life, his current body made it difficult to face a knight of Wernard's caliber.

Moreover, the flash-like thrust Wernard used was not a simple thrust.

His ability was an elemental transformation.

Wernard's sword, like a spring, bounced off the floor, walls, and ceiling in an instant, aiming for Shane's heart.

If Shane hadn't focused his magic on his eyes, the injury to his side would have been much worse.

That's not all.

Shane wasn't the only one injured.

The summoned elemental spirit also looked quite exhausted.

The massive presence that once filled the basement was now gone.

The dark elemental spirit was the only channel that could materialize the darkness within Shane into reality.

Even pulling out a small part of that darkness had exhausted the dark elemental spirit.

"Logically, it would be futile to continue the battle any further..."

Shane's gaze turned to the entrance of the basement.

A massive presence could be felt from there.

A presence so overwhelming that it couldn't be compared to Wernard, whom he had struggled against.

The opponent didn't seem to be hiding their presence, as even Dyra could sense the ominous aura.

"What is it? What's coming...?"

Dyra, who had just let out a sigh of relief, turned pale.

Shane was injured, and even if she could move freely, escaping from the approaching presence seemed impossible.

But would Dyra realize that because of this presence, Shane's lips curled up in a slight smile?

* * *

In his previous life, Shane didn't always welcome Dyra's frequent visits to his castle.

"Why do you keep coming here?"

"Well, there's plenty of alcohol here, isn't there?"

The capital of the fallen empire.

Ironically, this place was overflowing with the finest wines.

With many nobles residing here, it was a place where wine was continuously produced in the wine cellars.

Dyra often came here to drink like a whale and get drunk.

The decadent Shane of that time couldn't understand Dyra.

The sight of her destroying her body to get drunk, even though she couldn't get drunk, seemed like pointless self-harm.

"Puh! But, that's not the only reason. When I come here, it feels like nothing matters."

"What do you mean?"

Though he had no interest in listening to her drunken ramblings, Shane didn't want to see her wreak havoc in this castle when she was drunk.

Thinking he would have to destroy the wine cellars after she left, Shane waited for her to speak.

"That damn lion statue."

"Lion?"

Turning around, he saw the statue of the white lion, the symbol of the empire, standing in a broken and grotesque state.

"Seeing that statue reminds me of the first time I was kidnapped by humans. I saw one of those cat brats back then."

"..."

"Back then, that brat looked like a monster from hell... gulp, gulp."

"..."

"Pah! But isn't it funny? Those monster-like brats turned out to be such weaklings, easily torn apart by my hands."

Saying this, Dyra gave a bitter smile.

What did that expression mean?

At the time, Shane didn't care.

"Those fools who don't even know the source of their power... and who don't realize that their power is incomplete... I felt fear from such weaklings... Coming here reminds me of that time."

"Why would you come here to remind yourself of something you don't want to think about?"

Dyra let out a hollow laugh in response to Shane's question.

"It's proof that I've survived longer than those scum."

"..."

With that, Dyra bowed her head, and Shane turned away.

And that was the last time Shane saw Dyra in his previous life.

* * *

"I think I should go down there myself."

"Huh? Lord Daira, yourself?"

At the voice of Daira, the guest from the royal palace, Salier's eyes widened.

"Yes. I think it's better to see it with my own eyes, hehe."

"Ugh... I really feel ashamed."

Wernard had only just gone down to the basement, but Daira still decided to move.

Salier's heart burned with anxiety.

He didn't want to upset this man, so he hoped the matter would be resolved as quickly as possible.

But if Wernard could resolve the issue, and Daira could see it for himself, it might help restore the lost trust to some extent.

Thinking this, Salier stood up to lead the way.

"Then I will guide you myself."

"Let's go."

On the other hand, Daira, despite his friendly smile, felt considerable displeasure.

'Tsk, the empire lacks talent.'

Looking at Salier, who was forcing a smile, Daira thought this.

Though his impression of Salier had been good until he came here, he was disappointed that Salier hadn't noticed the current situation.

'It's too quiet.'

Indeed.

Wernard had only just gone down to the basement, but if a battle had occurred, it should have been over by now.

The basement was unnaturally calm, despite an unknown person entering the most secret part of the house.

This old royal knight instinctively knew that this was not a good sign.

Wernard was still alive, as his magic could be sensed, but it was clear that things were not going smoothly.

'Well, on the other hand, this could be an opportunity to capture and interrogate the intruders.'

At least it was better than this happening without his knowledge.

Then there would be no chance of the intruders escaping.

'Tsk. Anyway, I should report this to the director after the matter is resolved.'

He planned to report this to his superiors.

He wouldn't immediately dismiss Salier, but he would prepare to cut ties to some extent.

However, Daira's thoughts soon became pointless.

The sword that flew in the moment the basement door opened was within Daira's "perception range," yet he couldn't block it.

"Wha...!"

Swish!

And Daira heard it.

In that split second.

The sharp sound of a sword piercing Salier's forehead.

It was the moment the giant, created by the royal knights over a decade of effort, was pointlessly killed.

"..."

Before the sword pierced Salier's forehead, Daira, who had already drawn his sword, saw something.

Wernard, with eyes filled with hatred, looking at Salier, who was now lying on the floor, bleeding and leaking brain fluid.

"Y-Your... lord...?"

Clap, clap, clap.

And in the depths of the basement.

A man in a mask, shrouded in ominous darkness, slowly clapped his hands, watching the scene.

"A tragic play. Indeed, there's no lie in the old saying. Tragedy up close, comedy from afar, they say?"

The man, who had been clapping leisurely, continued.

"Even from not too far away, this is a sufficient comedy, isn't it? Isn't it, the empire's cat?"

Daira didn't respond to the man's words.

He only filled the basement with a white flame-like aura, bursting from his entire body.