Lord of Caldera

Chapter 73

Sylas led the group forward, cutting through the creeping mist with ease. Though the writhing fog seemed as if it would swallow them whole, it posed no real threat to him.

"Hah!"

With each swing of his sword, the mist burst into flames and retreated. The mist that had been closing in on the group also pulled back in fear, as if the fire from Sylas's sword could ignite it like a chain reaction.

"Oooh!"

"It's truly the holy sword!"

The group followed behind Sylas in awe. However, as they progressed, a voice like nails scraping metal echoed from beyond the mist.

—How amusing, a child prancing about with a sword as if it could save you all, sneered the demon who had mimicked the guards earlier. Its voice dripped with mockery as it addressed the group.

—How long do you think that sword's power will last? Ten minutes? Twenty? Or maybe it will fail you this very moment. Are you pushing yourself just to keep your companions safe?

"...!" The group collectively flinched. There was no such thing as infinite power. Once the flames of Sylas's sword were extinguished, their lives would be in grave danger.

"Sylas, how long can you keep this up?" Ulrich asked, his voice tense.

"Don't worry. I can keep this up for at least an hour," Sylas replied confidently. Judging by the sword's previous performance, an hour was more than manageable.

The demon let out a menacing, joyless laugh.

—An hour, is it? That's not much time. You'll need to escape the city within that hour, but there's only one exit, and it's already closed.

"We're not leaving," Sylas said plainly.

—...What? The demon sounded genuinely confused.

"We're not leaving. Why would we run? We came to kill you," Sylas declared boldly.

The demon, as well as the rest of the group, were taken aback. While it was true that they had come to deal with the demon, the situation was far from ideal for fighting. Was Sylas being reckless, or was he just that confident?

—The saintess? The demon's voice turned cold. After a moment, a mangled body of a woman emerged from the mist, her clothes bearing the symbol of the church's sun, a sign of her status as a saintess.

—She gave me quite the trouble with her holy powers. But as you can see, this is what's left of her. The demon laughed wickedly.

"No...!"

"The saintess... she's dead?" Despair spread through the group like wildfire. Even Sylas's previously calm demeanor shifted as he stared at the body with wide eyes.

"This can't be! That's a fake!" Sylas shouted.

—Oh? And why do you think that? the demon taunted.

"The saintess is always accompanied by holy knights. How could you have killed her while they were protecting her?" Sylas demanded.

—Ha! You mean those scarecrows? The demon laughed again, and soon after, ten more mutilated bodies appeared from the mist—men dressed in the armor of the holy knights. Their bodies were torn apart, with their insides spilling out in gruesome detail.

—Those so-called knights were laughably weak. Watching them die while calling out for their god was almost amusing.

"No, that can't be right! There had to have been more knights! You couldn't have killed them all!" Sylas's voice wavered as if in disbelief.

—Oh, you think so? If there were more, perhaps things would've been different. But as it stands, this is all of them. Their mistake was underestimating me, the demon sneered.

"No way... They wouldn't have sent so few knights to protect the saintess..." Sylas muttered, his voice trembling as if he were losing hope.

—Stop denying reality. You'll only embarrass yourself further. The demon mocked him, enjoying the group's descent into despair. Even Sylas seemed unable to maintain his earlier confidence.

"Are they all dead? Was that really all the protection she had?" Sylas asked, seemingly distraught.

—How many times must I tell you? This is all there is. Sadly, I have no more corpses to show you, the demon said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Oh, I see. So there were only about ten knights. Well, that explains it," Sylas suddenly said in a matter-of-fact tone.

—...What?