Chapter 15: The Demon Baron (1) 

A small clearing in the low forest. 

Crackle, crackle. 

Tiny sparks jumped up from the pile of firewood. Even though the sun had already set, the lukewarm warmth of late spring showed no signs of fading. Insects that had spent the winter as larvae chirped their early songs as if welcoming the warm weather. 

Duncan hunched by the fire, completely absorbed in putting together what could only be described as the world's most disgusting jigsaw puzzle. Kadim, who had just returned from washing blood off himself at the stream, watched the merchant with a distant look. 

“Have you pieced it all together, merchant?” 

“Ah, yes… It’s almost done, my lord. But where on earth did you get this? Why does the paper have such a strange stink and feel so flimsy…?” 

"A stomach." 

"...Excuse me?" 

"I cut open the bandit leader's belly and pulled it out of his stomach. He swallowed it and told me to take it if I could, so I did.” 

"..." 

Duncan barely managed to keep from puking. 

‘At least I didn't have to dig it out myself...’ 

It had been over twenty days since he'd started traveling with this insane barbarian. The merchant's way of thinking was slowly but surely drifting away from anything resembling common sense. 

"Whew... I’ve pieced together everything I can, my lord. Please, have a look.” 

"..." 

Although there were a few pieces he couldn't detach because they were stuck together, the map Duncan had restored was more or less recognizable. The drawing and the text matched what the bandit chief had confessed. 

Kadim leaned back against a rock. "So Molden's surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, huh?" 

"...What? Is that really true?" 

"Probably. That bandit leader didn't seem like much of a liar." 

Duncan scratched his head awkwardly. "Thanks to you wiping out two bandit camps, we've got more food and supplies than we know what to do with. We couldn't even carry it all and had to leave most of it behind. But we still haven't found the quality weapons you're looking for..." 

"..." 

He was right. 

Most of the bandits' weapons were either damaged or poorly made. All they'd managed to salvage were a few decent daggers for throwing. After finally tracking down word of a dwarf-made axe, there was no way they could just give up and leave. 

Plus, there was something else nagging at him. 

'The Demon Baron'... 

That was what the bandit leader had called the Lord of Molden. 

Three hundred years ago, there had been quite a few lords with similar nicknames. Usually, it wasn't because they'd actually made deals with demons; more often than not, it was because they squeezed their people so hard they earned the title. 

But the fact that another lord had invaded using that as a pretext suggested this was not the same kind of case. If someone had started a civil war over some flimsy pretext like that, the Emperor wouldn't have sat idle. There had to be something more complicated going on. 

‘But if he truly has ties to a demon, why is another lord stepping in and not the Order of Elga…?’ 

It was a question he couldn't answer on his own. Kadim relayed everything the bandit leader had told him to Duncan. 

After hearing the story, Duncan tilted his head and stroked his chin. "The Demon Baron... I think I might have heard that name before..." 

"..." 

“…It’s likely not a name he got for being a harsh ruler or for making a pact with a demon. I once had a drink with a merchant from Molden, and he spoke fondly of his hometown, saying what a wonderful place it was to live. If the lord were an evil and greedy man, he wouldn't have said such a thing, would he?” 

Kadim slowly shook his head. That story was by no means proof of his innocence concerning demons. 

Demons craved human suffering and despair more than anything else. And suffering and despair were relative things. Someone who'd lived in poverty their whole life might not feel much from missing a meal, but feed them well for years and then make them starve again, and they'd experience terrible agony. 

Thus, some of the more cunning and wicked demons… would grant humans the greatest happiness, only to then cast them into the abyss. 

‘A barren frontier where bandits and monsters run rampant, yet it was a good place to live…? On the contrary, perhaps the reason it was so was because of a demon…’ 

He cut off that line of thinking. 

Without evidence, it was just wild speculation. Whether the lord had ties to demons or not, right now, both possibilities were on the table. 

Kadim shook his waterskin and fell into deep thought. 

‘The remaining blood… there’s enough for one more drink.’ 

There was no way he could just pass by Molden. But how the hell was he supposed to break through hundreds of soldiers with just one sword and one sip of blood? 

"Um... my lord? If I may, I'd like to ask you something." 

The merchant's voice broke through his thoughts. Kadim sent him a dry look without saying anything. Taking the silence as permission, Duncan carefully began to speak. 

"Yesterday, when we first met those bandits, didn't you introduce yourself as the Great Warrior of Atala?" 

"..." 

"I, well, I don't know much about this, but... what kind of people can receive that title? Is it something only particularly outstanding warriors among those who serve Atala can get...?" 

"...Why are you asking that?" 

"Oh, no, it's just... as far as I know, Agon's Raging Horn also goes around calling himself the Great Warrior of Atala. I didn't know there was anyone else besides that legendary mercenary who claimed that title... gulp!" 

Sparks flew from Kadim's eyes. Startled by the sheer intensity, Duncan threw up his arms and curled into a ball. 

The Great Warrior of Atala wasn't some nickname given to warriors who were just good at fighting. It was a sacred title given to only one person among all the Atalans. 

The single warrior who bore the sacred mission to slay an Archdemon in place of the God of the Wasteland and Strife. 

Only he who holds this title shall gain the power to sever the life of an Archdemon. 

Just as two suns could never rise over the wasteland, there could never be two 'Great Warriors’ of Atala in this world. 

That left two possibilities. Either this Agon's Raging Horn was using the title without understanding what it meant, or... 

‘...Atala forgot about me and chose another Great Warrior.’ 

Well, three hundred years had passed. He didn't know how omniscient and omnipotent the gods of this world were, but if they hadn't known where he was, it would make sense to choose a new Great Warrior. 

But understanding and anger were two different things. 

Not only was he a relic of a bygone age, but even the god he served had abandoned him? Rage boiled up like lava. Was he nothing more than a disposable tool that could be replaced at any time? Had that damn Atala already forgotten that he'd endured terrible madness to kill the Archdemon? 

And this new Great Warrior was ignoring his mission to slay demons, instead enjoying wealth and fame in the arena... 

‘...I'll have to tear him apart when I meet him.’ 

This was not a statement directed solely at the coliseum champion. It was a blasphemous declaration that included the God of the Wasteland and Strife himself. 

At least he'd left behind some minor blessing like One Who Hones Name. If he hadn't even done that much, Kadim probably would have committed even worse acts of sacrilege. 

Thump thump thump. 

A wild pulse pounded in his heart. The urge to tear apart everything he saw raced through his mind. The lukewarm night air was not enough to cool his head. 

Kadim slowly rose to his feet. 

Duncan, on the other hand, threw himself flat on the ground. 

"I-I've committed a mortal sin, my lord! I'll never ask about your personal affairs again! Just this once, please forgive me..." 

“…Get up. You have done nothing wrong.” 

"What...?" 

"I'm going back to the stream. While I'm gone, think about how we can safely get into Molden." 

"..." 

Duncan stared up at the barbarian in a daze. Kadim turned his back indifferently and walked off between the trees. 

Even after his large silhouette had completely disappeared into the darkness, Duncan couldn't bring himself to get up for a long time. 

Their next destination was Molden. 

*** 

Inside a roughly built hut, dust floated everywhere. 

A candle on the table dimly illuminated the stale particles. At the same time, it cast subtle shadows across the face of an unexpected night visitor. 

She was a guest who absolutely didn't belong in this shabby place. 

It wasn't just because of her brilliant golden hair that hadn't faded even after a hard journey, or her eyes that glowed like emeralds. More than that, it was the plate armor with the ten-pointed star engraved on it and the extraordinary weapon hanging at her waist. 

The farmer's wife couldn't even look directly at her guest. She clutched her trembling hands like aspen leaves, barely managing to open her mouth in a voice that seemed to crawl away. 

"Really, no one has passed through this village recently. Nothing unusual has happened either... except for a few villagers getting hurt while working..." 

Helia Munel, Sacred Knight of the Order of Elga, clasped her hands together and raised her eyes. 

Then she asked again in a stern voice. 

"Those words you just spoke. Can you swear before Elga, the glorious Lord of Light, that there isn't a single lie in them?" 

"..." 

"Can you swear it?" 

The woman's shoulders shrank. But she didn't take back what she'd said, quietly nodding her head. 

She had no choice. After killing the demons and goblins, the barbarian had given them a clear warning. 

'If anyone comes to the village asking about me, never answer them. Don't mention that demons appeared either. If anyone ignores this warning and talks, I'll come back to the village someday and kill every last person.' 

The chilling voice was still fresh in her ears. The distant barbarian mercenary's warning was far more terrifying than the pressure from the high-ranking Paladin right in front of her. 

Helia rested her chin on her hand and tapped the table with her other hand. 

Tap tap tap. 

"How strange. There were definitely traces showing our target headed this way. Are you really saying no one passed through here?" 

"Yes, yes, Sir Paladin... I swear by Elga that no mercenary has passed through this village..." 

"I never said our target was a mercenary." 

A thorny silence. 

A frigid stillness seeped into the dusty air. The emerald gaze pierced through the woman’s anxiety. The woman’s head dropped to the floor, her face turning as pale as a corpse. 

Just as the Paladin's hand was slowly moving toward her sword hilt— 

"AAAAAAHHHHH!! No, no! NOOOOOOO!!!" 

Suddenly, a desperate scream filled the hut. 

The woman was flustered. 

Helia narrowed her brow and slowly stood up. 

"...What's that sound?" 

"It's nothing! You don't need to worry about it, Lady Paladin!" 

"It's coming from over there. Get out of my way." 

Helia pushed the woman aside and entered the corner room. 

On the cramped floor, a child was bound tightly with rope. A horribly contorted face, body writhing like a worm. It was a sight that wasn't unfamiliar to Helia. She could tell the cause of the seizure at a glance. 

"Possessed by a demon. And quite severely at that." 

"No, no! It's just an old illness! He's been like this sometimes since he was little! It's nothing serious, so you don't need to worry about it!" 

Despite the woman's excuses, the child's condition only grew worse. 

"Cough, cough, hack, grrr, grrrrr..." 

The child coughed violently and finally started foaming at the mouth. His eyes rolled back as his hands and feet trembled. His muscles stiffened rigidly, and his back bent into a twisted curve. 

Helia slowly approached the child. Her eyes were filled with determination, as if she meant to destroy evil. The woman desperately clung to the Paladin. She wasn't strong enough to actually hold back an Sacred Knight who had trained her body to the extreme. 

But Helia wasn't trying to harm the child. 

Quite the opposite. 

"[O Lord of Light, who drove away the primordial darkness and bestowed upon us brilliant radiance, have mercy on those still wandering in the abyss, stained by demons. In the pitch-black night, in Your name that buds like a candle flame, I bless this little lamb.]" 

Whooooom—! 

A white flash of light blazed as brilliantly as the sun. A dazzling radiance burst forth from the Paladin’s palm. The light embraced the child as gently as a mother nursing her hungry baby. Sacred warmth filled the cramped room completely. 

Before long, the trembling gently stopped. The violent seizure subsided as if it had been a lie. The child exhaled deeply once, then fell into peaceful sleep as if he'd been playing all day. 

The woman couldn't close her gaping mouth. 

"This... this is..." 

"This child has been saved from the demon seed that a demon planted in him. From this moment, and for all eternity, the child’s soul shall never again suffer from the demon’s wicked whispers.” 

"Oh, ohhh..." 

Overwhelmed by the miracle, the woman dropped to her knees without realizing it. 

The oppressive weight and guilt melted away like snow. That empty space was filled with ecstatic joy and burning emotion. She soaked the wooden floor with her tears, offering endless gratitude to the Lord of Light who had guided this savior to this remote place. 

"..." 

But it was far too early. 

Far too early for a prayer. 

Whoosh, slash—crack! 

A single line of flame cut through the darkness. 

"...Huh?" 

Something round rolled forward with a thud. 

The woman's face turned pale with confusion. She was still lying on the floor, so why has the sleeping child's face rolled all the way over here? 

Sheathing her flaming sword, Helia spoke. 

"However, we cannot let a lamb that was once stained by evil continue to live. One who has forsaken the light, even once, must offer their life as a sacrifice to Him to wash away their sins.” 

"...Ah, ahh." 

“Worry not, woman. Since I destroyed the demon seed before taking the life, this child can now rest eternally beside Elga." 

"Ah, ahhhhhh, AHHHHHHHHH!!!" 

The woman screamed and rushed forward. 

Stopping her approach wasn't particularly difficult. 

Whoooosh—! 

"...But you're no unbeliever who broke an oath made in Elga's name." 

Emerald eyes glistened with the flames of fanaticism. 

Pressing the blazing blade to the woman’s neck, Helia commanded in a chilling tone. 

"Filthy unbeliever. If you don't want to wander endless darkness for eons, you'd better confess exactly where that demon went." 

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