31 – 31. Helmut’s Knight

*Thwack!*

The shaft of Silverna’s spear slammed into Jonathan, and he tumbled to the ground with a thud. He tilted his head back, hand covering his mouth.

“Whatever the reason, I don’t think I can tolerate this behavior right now.”

A menacing air. She gripped the spear shaft tightly, as if struggling to suppress the instinct to swing it.

“Kee-hee! Pu-ha-ha!”

“Hey! Stop it already!”

Sharen shouted, flaring up, and Jonathan clamped both hands over his mouth.

But his eyes remained fixed on the heaps of corpses.

An urge to hold them in his gaze for just a little longer.

In the end.

“You little shit—!”

Silverna’s spear, unable to hold back any longer, swung out roughly, striking Jonathan in the temple.

*Crack!* Jonathan fell unconscious, but the unpleasant smile remained etched on his face, as if frozen in the cold.

“What the hell is going on?!”

The massacre of the Andean villagers alone was enough to bear, but now Jonathan was creating a disturbance, setting off a headache.

Clutching her head, Silverna let out a long sigh and looked at Sharen.

“He’s part of Helmut, so Sharen, you keep an eye on him. The rest of us go inside and assess the situation.”

“Ah, okay!”

Sharen stood guard, placing a foot on Jonathan who was lying unconscious.

The rest of the group turned towards the heaps of bodies, Isaac and Silverna leading the way.

“What kind of madman….”

“Like Anna said just now, there are traces of certain parts being cut out.”

It was difficult to see clearly due to the swarming maggots, parasites, and flies, but there were signs that specific body parts such as the eyes and thumbs had been gouged out.

“Ugh.”

Anna, feeling unwell, stepped back, opting to search the village perimeter. Mela-dic also kept her distance, remaining vigilant.

It was because of what Isaac had said earlier – that they hadn’t been dead for long.

“Why this? Organ trafficking?”

“Then they’d have kidnapped them. There’s no need to pluck out eyeballs or fingers if that were the case.”

“True… Then what? Some sort of plunder? And then torture for pleasure on the side?”

“Possible, I suppose.”

Isaac glances around.

“But unlikely.”

Silberna, instantly understanding, bites her lip.

“The valuables are still here. So, not pillaging then.”

Normally, a bandit raid would strip the village bare, leaving it like a fish picked clean to the bone.

But a quick look around Andez showed that while the people were gone, their belongings were left undisturbed.

“Then what the hell? What in God’s name?”

Frustrated, Silberna slams her spear into the earth.

The mystery of their deaths was clearly weighing on her.

“Damn it, if only we’d been here sooner, we could’ve saved them.”

While listening to her lament, Isaac’s mind races.

He was, in his own mind, becoming increasingly sure of something.

‘It’s magic.’

Neither thieves nor organ harvesters, yet bodies desecrated in such specific ways.

Not after their possessions, but using them as sacrifice.

‘Seeing them piled up like that, does that mean they’ve not begun yet? If it’s magic using people, it must be some nasty kind.’

Something more sinister than the familiarization Polu had suffered.

‘Wait…’

A sudden question struck Isaac.

‘Did Polu die in my past life?’

He was the sole reason he learned the Blackson family’s secret from the Transcendent Bambaek.

That was why Polu, a member of the Blackson, had joined Recon Unit 5, and why the familiarization magic was triggered when he was attacked by the Yeti.

‘Polu didn’t die in my past life.’

He was fairly certain.

And assuming the massacre at Andez hadn’t occurred in his past life either…

‘The connection between the two is magic.’

Did a Transcendental being, the one who cast the spell on Polu, come here?

Did his death change something?

A prickling sensation, like the hairs on his skin standing on end, washed over Isaac as he laid his hand on his tachi.

“Sylvere—!”

He frantically swiveled his head to call out, but then, something caught his eye – a figure walking from the foot of the mountain connecting to the village.

The air grew heavy.

The pure, white northern wind, once so innocent, turned foul, offering a sticky, unpleasant sensation in the throat.

His long hair cascaded down to his ankles, and his attire resembled that of a priest.

The book in his hand was so thick that it looked like a burden to hold it with just one hand.

His pale skin and the pair of horns on his head revealed he was not human.

“That guy, right?”

Sylvere, too, was already focused on him. Everyone else, seemingly overwhelmed by his presence, had their mouths shut and were swallowing hard.

“Ooh.”

If Beombaek was a Transcendental being overtly resembling a tiger, this man looked like a devil straight out of myth.

His teeth protruded from his lips, making him seem monstrous, yet his actions and tone were those of a gentle gentleman.

“Patrol Unit Five! I’ve been longing to meet you!”

He even seemed to know Patrol Unit Five well.

“You…know us?”

At Anna’s question, the man smiled brightly.

“Of course, I do. Haven’t you fought bravely against my thrall? It was quite the effort to weave that spell, you know.”

He pressed the book against his heart, closing his eyes in a gesture as if mourning Polu.

“I was a bit surprised that the thrall spell activated unexpectedly at such a time. That is why I came here.”

“You?”

“Ah, I apologize for the late introduction! I am Nortemus! You could say I am Polu’s master!”

Polu’s death, which hadn’t happened in his past life.

And the new disaster it had brought.

‘This is insane.’

Though his hand was on his tachi, Isaac was doubtful about whether he should even draw it.

Last time with Beombaek, he had the hope of making it to the Malidian Barrier, where Uldrian Caldius would be, so he fought on.

But here, they had no power to defeat a Transcendental.

“Is it…possible?”

No matter how much I fret, the same conclusion comes back: impossible.

Even if Sylverna has grown stronger, a fight against the transcendent, spell-wielding race is still too much.

“Hoo.”

Knowing the gap, Nortemus was clearly taking it easy.

His gaze then drifted to a rather out-of-place man.

“The Young Lady of Helmunth? Forgive me, but would you mind removing your foot?”

“Huh? Me, me?”

“Yes, even a half-wit looks like a precious comrade to me.”

At his request, Sharen looked down at Jonathan, flustered.

But she didn’t move her leg.

It seemed like she didn’t want to feel like she was losing.

“N-No way!”

“Haha, this is quite troublesome.”

Nortemus closed his eyes briefly.

Then, with a soft smile, he made a proposal.

“How about this? If you leave your comrade behind, I’ll pretend I didn’t see you. And you can also act like you didn’t see me.”

“Bullshit-!”

“Watch your tongue, Caldias.”

Nortemus’s murderous intent, which instantly crushed Sylverna’s single sentence that she’d been holding back.

“I’m just giving you a pass because I don’t want to be bothered. I should be thanked for my mercy, rather than having to beg for your lives.”

There was no boast, no false pretense in his words as he clicked his tongue.

A conviction that he could easily kill them all.

He turned his gaze from Sylverna back to Sharen, smiling again.

“The Young Lady of Helmunth must grant me my request. Otherwise, I’ll have to kill all of your companions.”

“U-Uh, uhh….”

Overwhelmed by his force, Sharen carefully moved her foot, and a black stickiness formed at Nortemus’ fingertips.

It tainted the air as it moved, touching Jonathan.

In the end, he embraced the unconscious Jonathan as if cradling him, then took him to his side.

“Even a half-wit is my comrade, to me.”

Northemus, as if cherishing, strokes Jonathan’s fallen cheek.

Jonathan’s skin flares, mottled red, veins bulging.

“Well then, the bargain is struck! Ah! Could there ever be such a fine day for us all?”

Northemus throws his hands skyward, beaming, and cries out.

“I am reunited with my brethren, and you have been spared! Truly, this is a time of grace and blessing! Let us praise the divine!”

The thick book he holds rustles, pages flapping in the wind.

Watching this, Silverna softly asks Isaac beside her.

“If we fought…?”

“Dead. No doubt.”

He is more dangerous than the White Wolf.

“Farewell, everyone. Especially, I hope the young lady of Helmund remains unharmed.”

Northemus bows deeply, showing respect.

Meladic and Anna actually take a step back.

But Silverna stands frozen.

“Hm?”

Because Isaac hasn’t moved.

“You, who I thought the wisest, are surprisingly stubborn, it seems?”

Northemus smiles slyly, looking at Isaac.

“Didn’t you just say, fighting is out of the question?”

He heard everything, even the whispered words at this distance.

While once again admiring the transcendent’s superior physique, Isaac answers.

“If we turn our backs now, we’ll die.”

“……”

Northemus’ gaze turns cold.

The gentlemanly demeanor vanishes, he loosens his shoulders, holding his book to his chest.

“How did you know?”

“Transcendent folk don’t let humans live.”

“Hmm, you seem to know a bit about us. However, just as all humans are different, not all of us are the same, you see?”

“Maybe that’s true.”

But not this one.

“A lunatic like you wouldn’t let us go off nice and easy, I reckon.”

“Lunatic? Nay, have you ever seen such a kindly lunatic?”

Even as his body stiffened with tension and cold, Isaac answered without backing down.

“You lot don’t believe in God.”

“…….”

“And yet there you are, dressed like some saintly priest, clutching a book like it’s the Bible. Those who play at being messengers of God without faith are usually lunatics. Or charlatans.”

“Heh, heh heh.”

Nortemus twisted his head this way and that, a chilling laugh slipping out.

“Well now.”

His glittering eyes locked onto Isaac.

“Astute.”

His low voice was like the overture of an orchestra.

It was about to start.

A heavy atmosphere settled, thick with the sense of something beginning.

“Ugh, heeeugh!”

A groan as Jonathan rose.

Black patterns, their origin unknown, were spreading across his body.

The whites of his eyes had turned black, blurring with the pupils.

“Ah, brother.”

Nortemus greeted Jonathan with a radiant smile.

“How is the world, seen again? In your desire to sever ties with mankind, I prepared this rite for you!”

He held the book to his chest, his other hand gesturing elegantly towards Scout Team 5.

Like a waiter guiding patrons to their table.

“Feast. Consume them. And thus, brother! Prove you are one of us!”

At his words, Jonathan raised his greatsword.

His neatly aligned teeth elongated with a snap, making him look like a vampire from some old tale.

“Come! Let us resist the world together, brother-!”

*Thwack!*

The greatsword, piercing the book, shot up toward the sky.

Crimson blood dripped from the blade’s tip, and Nortemus, skewered along with his book, turned his head with a creak, glaring at Jonathan.

“Comrade, brethren…!”

“No-”

Tears pooled in Jonathan’s eyes, black as ink.

“I’m not… I’m telling you, I’m not.”

“Comrade!”

“I am-”

With a sob, Jonathan struggled, mumbling.

“A proud and glorious… Knight of Helmund, that’s who I am.”

Nortemus’ face twisted into a grotesque mask at Jonathan’s reply.