Episode 485: The Marquis of Discord (3)

Tsutsutsutsutsu… …

Darkness falls.

If you stretch out your arms, your vision is so dark that you can't even count how many fingers you have.

But even in that darkness, some objects were visible unusually well.

A person stood up in front of Bikir.

"… … Sergeant Janet."

Bikir muttered in a broken voice.

The person standing in front of you is definitely familiar.

He was a comrade in the same unit before returning.

After that, one by one, familiar faces appeared.

Comrades left behind in the era of destruction. His subordinates, comrades, and superiors stood bleeding and staring at Bikir.

[Are you not coming back?]

[You were able to bring us back to life.]

[Are you abandoning your comrades?]

[Was the world after returning so comfortable?]

[okay. Leave behind the sacrifices of your comrades and live well.]

[I only trusted you... … .]

They shouted at Bikir, shedding bloody tears.

Thick cold sweat drips down.

The trauma deep inside his heart was resurrected like an evil spirit, strangling Vikir's heart.

[Did you go back to hanging out with women and flirting with them?]

[Have we really done our best to prevent the destruction of humanity?]

[And you're a demon hunter?]

[You don't even remember the sacrifices of your comrades anymore!]

[…] … betrayer! … … turncoat!]

The ghosts of the past began to make funeral-like cries.

They opened their mouths so wide that their lower jaws fell out, took out tongues as sharp as spears, and spat out sharp words at Vikir.

… Pow!

One tongue turned into a spear and flew out, striking Vikir in the chest.

After that, countless tongues were flying like daggers.

Puff puff puff!

Bikir stepped back, feeling his whole body covered in blood.

Surprised, I checked and found that my body was fine.

Was the blood fountain just a hallucination?

'Andras' specialty is playing with the minds of others. He must never be deluded.'

Vikir desperately tried to ignore the spears and daggers that pierced his mind.

at that time.

When Vikir turned around, he saw different things this time.

[Who are you to refuse a contract at will?]

[You don't listen to our opinions?]

[You were at least born into a noble family.]

[I died as soon as I was born, buried in a food trash can?]

[I froze to death in the coin locker of the magic train.]

[Mite- Ugh-]

There stood the young children who had died in the orphanage.

Children who died without living long, or whose lives ended shortly after birth.

Beings who were forcibly born by their parents.

They were casting a look of resentment towards Bikir.

And there is one girl standing at the front of the group of children.

[brother. No, uncle.]

Nymphet.

The child who lost his life a long time ago and became my first sense of guilt after returning.

The nymphet opened its mouth towards Vikir.

[You speak well about human beings' desire for development and upward instinct… … Are you qualified to say something like that?]

"… … that."

Bikir opened his mouth without realizing it.

But the nymphet didn't wait for that.

[It comes out like an awl in your pocket? Hohoho-Are you talking about my tongue?]

The ghost with the face of a nymphet grinned and spit out a long, spear-like tongue from its mouth.

… puck!

The words of the nymphet lodged in Vikir's chest were extremely sharp and cold.

Just like this world.

Soon, the remaining comrades from the era of destruction and all the children who died in this world surrounded Vikir.

[How dare an unqualified person!]

[Hang it! Hang it!]

[Throw stones!]

[Kill! I have to kill him!]

At the same time, the daggers continue to strike.

… puck! … puck! … puck! … Pow!

It was not only stuck in my mind, but also in my body.

It's not a metaphor or metaphor, it's really being hurt.

"… … !"

Bikir pulled out Beelzebub at length.

Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwak!

Baskerville Type 8. A level that can be reached through extreme practical experience. The final destination of the living.

From this point on, it is the realm of the dead.

This is not a level that can be overcome with the short lifespan of humans.

Vikir revealed his eight teeth and dispersed the darkness around him.

However, the daggers of tongues that continued to fly were striking Vikir's entire body.

'Where are you?'

Bikir continued to run through the darkness that obscured his vision.

Andras' voice rang in Bikir's ears.

[You will die here. However, if you accept the contract now, everything can be reversed.]

The voice sounded so sweet and cozy.

It feels like everything will be resolved if I just hold the hand that is held out.

Like the salvation promised to mankind, like a flower path.

… … however.

Pow!

Vikir stood steadfast despite the barrage of daggers piercing his chest.

The surroundings have already become miserable with blood flowing down and spears and daggers stuck on the floor.

It is truly the thorny path of asceticism itself.

The flowery path promised before my eyes was in stark contrast to the thorny path I had walked so far.

[Are you scared? Are you afraid? It will happen. Because humans are like that. Well, even now… … ]

Andras' voice sticks to my ear like honey.

however.

"The devil is."

The aura emanating from Vikir became even more fierce and rough.

"kill!"

A dark red half-moon scattered black clouds around it.

Bikir. The wounded hunting dog stood on the thorny path and let out a gasp.

The smell of blood spreads thickly, and the heated body heats up the surrounding air.

"I am not afraid of death."

Bikir had already died once.

No, twice if you include the experience at Naraksu.

Besides that, it is the end of a line that has been crossed countless times. The result is now.

"I have had my head cut off on a guillotine and have tried to kill myself. "It's not a metaphor or analogy, it's an actual experience."

A person who has experienced death several times, something that others have never experienced.

A foreign being that has actually experienced death and is still breathing out its breath.

Vikir moved his hand and lifted the blade.

The sword that has always been my guide through the countless deaths I have overcome so far.

Bikir swung his sword.

It may be the last meal you spit out in your life.

Eight trails began to shine like guiding stars.

however.

Puffpuffpuffpuffpuffpuff!

There was nothing I could do about the daggers of tongues fired by countless ghosts in the darkness.

Vikir fell to his knees, spurting out a fountain of blood.

"… … ."

Bikir lowers his head without even making a groan.

The darkness cleared in front of him. Andras appeared, clicking his tongue.

[If it is too rigid, it will break.]

Andras gently touched Vikir's bloody head with his toe.

[Is he dead? Hmm - has my heart also died? Ah, I miscontrolled my strength. Then where should I go to find the second crown prince?]

Andras is tearing out his hair. His expression was gradually becoming irritated.

… Puff! … bang!

A booming sound coming from far away. An earthquake transmitted through the floor.

The battle outside the imperial palace seemed to be getting more intense.

[First of all, I have to sort out the things that are causing trouble outside.]

Andras frowned as if annoyed.

Eventually, when Andras was slowly turning his back on Vikir.

"… … "The devil is."

A groaning sound like that heard when an intestine is cut open was heard.

Vikir was looking at Andras with unfocused eyes.

"kill."

[Hahahaha - There is no such thing as a dirty dog.]

Andras laughed as if it was absurd.

But either way, Bikir just moves his battered body slowly.

… … one. … … two. … … three. … … four. … … five. … … six. … … seven. … … eight.

All mana has been depleted, and not even a faint aura comes out.

I am moving my hands, but I cannot feel the teeth at the tips of my fingers.

Just before reaching the threshold of death, the now familiar dry and crumbly sensation was repeated eight times.

Naturally, Andras did not pay attention to Vikir's last struggle.

And because of that, Andras missed one thing.

… … nine.

The ninth trajectory that follows the eighth swordsmanship.

And finally.

Pot-

A frighteningly intense light began to burst from the tip of Beelzebub in Bikir.

[…] … hmm?]

Andras turned his head.

There, there was a burst of light so bright that it burned out his pupils, who were accustomed to darkness, in an instant.

[Gwaaah!?]

My tightly closed eyes are burning.

A thick cloud of pungent smoke was billowing out through my eyelids.

There is one dot that shines brightly. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

… … And nine.

When Andras opened his eyes, what had been small dots of light had suddenly turned into a huge cluster of light that filled his entire field of vision.

[Even after stepping into the realm of supremacy, only those who continue to run without resting with the same mindset as when they first picked up the sword will gain something.]

The secret of Type 8 that Cane Corso once said.

[You probably won't be able to reach this level in your lifetime. This is because the realm of Type 9 is beyond the threshold of death.]

Meat-eating (六式).

A state that can only be reached by transcending all emotions.

Chil-sik (七式).

A state that can be reached only by regaining the feelings that have been abandoned.

Eight types (八式).

A state that can only be reached by holding a sword and going through countless bloody battles.

And the old style.

An incomprehensible zone at the core of the highest realms that only those who have truly experienced death can ascend to.

"… … ."

Vikir was staring blankly at the nine glowing trails beyond his fading vision.

The voice of the Cane Corso I once heard beyond the swirling darkness faded away.

[This is an area that denies all common human understanding, empathy, understanding, faith, common sense, probability, and causality. A being who has not experienced death can never set foot here.]

[Ah, it looks like you have a lot of regrets in life. but. I guess I'm at an age where I haven't even really thought about death yet.]

[You are not ready yet.]

Words I didn't understand even though I heard them at the time.

… … But now I feel like I can understand it a little bit.

A heterogeneous being who had experienced death several times despite being alive, witnessed countless other deaths that had been missed at his fingertips.

And a certain realization that suddenly came at the crossroads of life and death opened a new door somewhere on the other side.

Vikir stretched out his hand and looked into the world beyond the door.

Very briefly, a single point among the countless pieces that are split into moments.

The upper level of the supreme realm seen in such a short period of time.

The scenery of that place, which I looked into with my mind's eye, remained as a mark, as if burned into my retina.

And as I absentmindedly moved my hand along the trace, it soon became the trajectory of a cluster of living stars.

… Flash!

Finally, the ninth tooth began to fully reveal itself.