Chapter – 70
“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Tessilid Argent, a paladin of the Inquisition Bureau under the Order of the Sacred Sword. I look forward to working with you.”
“…I’m Ileon Odreck. Likewise.”
Looking at the hand extended for a handshake, Ileon had to focus all his energy on controlling his expression.
He felt uneasy around Tessilid.
A young man who used a sword as well as he did, handsome as he was— the only thing missing was youth.
A primal sense of anxiety crept in, as if his own position could be taken away.
Meanwhile, as the handshake stretched longer than necessary, Tessilid’s gaze darkened.
“…….”
Ileon seemed unaware that he was gripping the other’s hand far too tightly, focused only on his own expression.
“Well, until next time.”
“Yeah.”
The cold encounter ended. Both turned their backs and left the meeting hall.
Tessilid walked alone through the corridor, looking down at the hand he had shaken.
This mission…
A bad premonition lingered. He laughed bitterly to himself.
Had he ever had a good feeling that turned out well? Had he ever been welcomed anywhere?
Probably not. It was just his chronic misfortune, nothing more. Tessilid decided to believe so.
As expected, premonitions of misfortune were utterly useless.
If they were meant to hint at significant future events, it wouldn’t have been a mere “bad feeling”—it would have been a sense of catastrophe.
Up until a certain point, everything had gone smoothly.
He had cleared the spectral knights guarding the Sword of Light and Darkness, and guided the victims of the dungeon sync safely to the gate. There had been no problem.
But while he was busy with the rescue operation, leaving the hill of the sacred sword unattended, greed overcame Ileon. He climbed the hill as if possessed. The moment he grasped the hilt, the cataclysm began.
“This… is my sword!”
The clear blue gem embedded in the hilt transformed into a crimson orb, flashing violently.
The sword, sensing a host full of evil, planted its black roots into Ileon’s right arm.
“I…!”
His once-proud golden hair turned black, and his blue eyes turned crimson.
< I am the hero! >
A voice, no longer human, shook the hill.
The host of the Dark Sword, Ileon, scattered malevolent energy and began indiscriminately slaughtering everyone.
There was no way to stop the sudden massacre.
Civilians who hadn’t escaped, the three elite knight orders of the church, and the invaluable healers—all were wiped out in an instant.
Even the church’s strongest swordsman could not withstand Ileon, now the host of the Dark Sword, because there was no tank capable of countering him.
Ileon’s eyes, the whites reddened, focused on the last remaining prey.
Unlike the helpless bugs who had died before, this one resisted his strikes, which displeased him.
He willingly sacrificed his lifespan to the Dark Sword, amplifying his body, aura, and malicious power.
“Kuuk! Sir Ileon!”
Having successfully pushed his opponent back, Ileon’s eyes flashed crimson as he laughed maniacally.
< Ha ha ha! See! I am far stronger than that green-eyed brat! >
“…!”
< I am the Order’s top sword, the rightful owner of the Sacred Sword, the hero of this age! Tessilid Argent! You can never take my place! >
Ileon, freed of all desire and malice, toyed with Tessilid like a plaything.
Tessilid gritted his teeth, enduring each strike with all his strength.
The fierce, desperate battle continued for six hours. Tessilid’s body was pushed to the limit.
His heart pounded as if it would burst through his ribcage; the metallic taste of blood filled his throat with each ragged breath.
His muscles ached as if they would tear apart, and his sword-wielding hands trembled uncontrollably.
His vision blurred intermittently; he had likely lost a great deal of blood.
Though he did not have the Dark Sword, his life force was steadily drained by the battle.
He knew that continuing would ultimately be useless.
Even if news reached the outside, no rescue would come. Or rather, none could come.
It wasn’t just the time needed to gather reinforcements.
Once a boss fight begins, the dungeon gates close. Entry becomes impossible.
When the gate closes, hope closes as well.
Tessilid, in a daze, reflected:
This should be enough. My body is battered, and I’ve endured this long. Perhaps it’s time for a proper, painful death and a peaceful rest.
“….”
He lifted his blurred eyes to see Ileon standing tall on the hill, shrouding the Dark Sword in black aura.
Yes, it seemed the end was inevitable.
He didn’t expect salvation or miracles. ‘Strict order and justice’ were not qualities of a god who would grant such things.
He planted his sword in the ground, kneeling, ready to close his eyes.
“…Huh…?”
A third presence pierced his ears like lightning.
“There’s still a survivor…?”
He strained to turn his head, and what he saw was…
“Tessilid?”
A pink-haired woman. A name immediately came to mind.
“Ah… Ilett…?”
Silence confirmed it.
Her sea-blue eyes trembled with confusion.
How? No… How?
How could she have entered a dungeon whose gate was closed?
There was no time to ponder.
Ileon’s eyes flared crimson as he noticed Ilett.
< Perfect timing, madam! Witness this duel and proclaim Ileon Odreck’s glory to the world! >
The presence of a woman caused Ileon to act with cowardly chivalry, which made him all the more cruel toward Tessilid.
< Tessilid Argent! I’ll make sure you die shamefully before this lady! >
The moment Ileon stomped the ground, a tremendous roar resounded. The sheer speed of the attack was explosive. Tessilid instinctively knew:
I can’t dodge this.
Then—clang! Metal clashed against metal, shaking the air. Tessilid’s eyes widened in shock.
…!
Suddenly, his vision was filled with pink hair and a straight back.
The resonance of the swords stopped. A calm voice followed the metallic ringing.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing trying to kill someone who hasn’t even returned yet?”
“…….”
He barely understood the meaning of her simple words, as he was exhausted and confused.
But one thing was certain: a miracle had occurred.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing trying to kill someone who hasn’t even returned yet!”
Startled, he blurted it out.
[‘Divination Inspector’ jumps up and gives a strong warning.]
Ah, sorry.
I had glanced at Tessilid, barely avoiding collapse while standing against the sword host.
His body was battered, and his right arm and side looked particularly injured.
The paladin uniform, meant to be pure white, was soaked in dark red.
Truly a wreck.
“Terry.”
Suppressing the urge to immediately heal him, I focused on the enemy in front.
Human sword-type bosses were trickier than monster types; all senses had to be concentrated.
I only left a single word for Tessilid behind:
“Rest for a moment.”
With that, I channeled power into Serpens.
When Serpens clashed with the Dark Sword, a long metallic howl rang out.
[<System> Passive skill ‘Predator’s Reversal’ increases the chance to inflict critical damage on the enemy.]
The system recognized the Dark Sword, which thirsted for human blood, as a terrifying predator.
Boom!
I struck the sword with my maximum strength.
Faster than the host could retreat, I followed up.
And swung the sword again.
<Krk!>
The host’s body was pushed backward continuously.
I didn’t stop, using force, speed, and aura to push him further.
Back. Further back. A bit more!
<Good. Far enough.>
I succeeded in separating the enemy from the immobilized Tessilid.
The host was shocked.
<Not a lady after all!>
“You’re a lady, brat.”
I learned long ago that you respond in kind to those who chatter during battle.
I teased while exchanging strikes.
“Why are you holding someone else’s sword? That belongs to Tessilid.”
<What are you talking about! This is my sword! Clearly! I am the rightful owner of the Sacred Sword!>
“No. You’re not the rightful owner.”
We distanced slightly, preparing for the next exchange.
“You’re the host of the Dark Sword.”
