Chapter 237

Chapter 237

***

When was the last time he washed properly, was it three days ago? He didn't remember exactly, but it seemed about then.

It took about two days to get to the graveyard of dragons, and since he stayed one night, it should be roughly right.

And it seemed it had been about three days since he had a proper meal other than travel food.

Fighting risking his life in a state of not being able to wash properly, not eating properly, and somewhat accumulated travel fatigue was not something he highly recommends. Because intrinsically a duel, fighting with weapons, the key was maintaining an optimal state.

However, when did the affairs of the world ever go only according to one's will?

Even when fatigue reached its peak, there were times one must grab a spear, advance, and form an array shoulder to shoulder with comrades, and at times a battle started like that continues all day long.

Leading an exhausted body with extreme stress in a situation where one doesn't know whether one will live or die, someone who hasn't experienced it can never know that feeling.

The feeling of being dragged to a slaughterhouse? No, it's a feeling of rather wishing to die. Yet fighting tenaciously, one tthought that beyond human limits, a thing called life was truly resilient.

And what gets disciplined in such experiences isn't sharp weapon skills or such, but an immovable mind that doesn't waver in any situation. That was a big difference. Between those who possess it and those who don't.

So, not washing for a few days, not properly eating for a bit wouldn't shake Rickart's mind or anything like that.

If it were an ordinary person they would have frozen in the flesh-trembling atmosphere, but Rickart was like a fish swimming leisurely between taut tension.

Slightly greasy blonde hair, left hand placed on the scabbard, slightly thrown open cloak, and indifferent hazel-colored eyes.

Facing that, his opponent tried to raise his spirit but gave up. Because his eyes felt that he wasn't an opponent such a thing would work on.

However, could the fight be avoided? No, as both the opponent and he himself knew, the current tense state could only be released at last when someone sprinkled blood and became a corpse.

The people who came to draw water cleared the area, the water carriers continued carrying water, and the remaining armed ones just watched quietly.

Among them were Malcolm and his colleagues, and whether they intended not to intervene in the fight they backed away from a distance and observed the situation. For them, it was also an opportunity to properly see Rickart's real skill, not a sword discussion.

If there was one iron rule in the Eastern Frontier that had no status system, it was that the winner was justice. That wasn't much different in the Empire, but it was a bit more explicit here.

"Do you know anything about Caldebert? I heard you're his followers."

Perhaps because he really wasn't tense at all, Rickart asked exactly in his usual tone. Then the one who had tattoos on his face or wherever exposed skin was answered.

"Not followers but fervent believers. And all people ought to become his believers. Ending this barbaric custom!"

He suddenly let out a loud shout, and swung a weapon like a huge kitchen knife towards the water carrier who had just brought water and was putting down the bucket.

Then a whoosh! heavy sound that overwhelmed even just by its noise was heard, and without even knowing he was being attacked, the water carrier was mercilessly sliced.

Flopping onto the ground, his skull was split diagonally, and as if that wasn't enough his shoulder joint was half split too. Would he indeed even remember the moment he died?

At last a man who killed one water carrier with his mad eyes glaring, pointed at Rickart with the huge kitchen knife dripping with blood and said.

"Listen to my words carefully, stranger. This is neither a duel nor anything. It is certainly not an argument of petty pride. We merely carry through our will, and if you intend to block it, try blocking it."

Even in the midst of that, whether the water carriers were some worker ants, even with a comrade brutally murdered and sprawling on the ground, they silently just did what they had to did.

Carrying the water carriers and continuing down the cliff, Rickart finally drew his sword and advanced forward. A speck of light that passed through the forest settled on the blade.

"I've faced fanatics before too, and now I understand a bit. In whatever form humans need faith, but a person advancing with a wrong faith cannot return. So I feel pity for you."

Though he spoke like that, his eyes were not so. The color of contempt was subtly mixed, and the opponent felt him daring to pity him as a great insult.

So shouting robustly, he swung the huge kitchen knife towards Rickart who was getting closer and closer to him.

"Hah!"

But for a moment, the piece of light that had fallen on Rickart's blade burst. And it shot exactly into the eyes of the one holding the large kitchen knife.

While closing his eyes tightly, he suddenly felt dizziness this way and that, and so he flailed his limbs but his body didn't listen. He opened his eyes wide. Then he saw his standing body. It had no head. Huh?

Whether misfortune or fortune, he had comrades. It was when the broken kitchen knife was spinning round and round round and round in the air and hadn't even touched the ground yet.

There were those attacking Rickart from both flanks, and the rest rushed at Roy and Maters.

It was a very, very slight difference. The gap between the attacks coming in from both sides. However, Rickart fully felt that minute difference intact, and that level of gap was more than enough to fill and have left over.

What that meant was, he struck the attack coming in first, and immediately swung towards the opposite side while turning his posture.

Then the onlookers ended up opening their eyes wide. Because even though he attacked twice with the widest angle, it was as if he swung the sword just once.

CHAENG! PAK!

Sparks flew with a thud from both sides. Both had their weapons broken the same, but the degree of injury was different. One had his fingers cut off profusely rustling, and the other had one wrist completely severed and the rest half of his palm deeply cut.

Before long, golden flames were burning on Rickart's sword, and around that time the broken large kitchen knife reached the ground and struck deep squelch.

Rickart moved to finish off the two. Though he didn't intentionally open his eyes like that, they were already glaring fiercely.

"Naoshu!"

Roy shouted. It wasn't towards Rickart, but a shout aimed at Maters. He stepped forward gripping his father's axe with both hands, and Maters hid behind Roy.

Roy swung the axe widely horizontally like swinging a club, as if trying to kill the two rushing at him all at once.

HUUNG!

CHAENGGANG!

Though not as much as Rickart's attack where a spark seemed to flash in a short moment, Roy's attack with precise timing calculation was also terrifying. However, whether the opponents were also not ordinary, it ended with one weapon breaking.

The one whose weapon broke backed off briefly and drew a secondary weapon, and the one attacking Roy from the other side bent his waist severely dodging Roy's attack.

Though it was a somewhat uncomfortable posture, bouncing his waist straight again, he conversely swung a knife that looked like a sickle, seeming sharp on the reverse.

Due to the nature of an axe, if an attack misses once it tends to reveal a large weak point, and though Roy could have dodged, because Maters was behind him he tried to give up his forearm.

However, Maters, who thought was hiding behind him, stepped forward and abruptly snatched the sickle-like knife with his hook prosthesis.

CHAENG! KAGAGAK!

Because Maters had a thin physique but had intrinsically strong grip strength, tangling the opponent's weapon and abruptly pulling it collapsed the opponent's posture. Falling forward, Roy struck his knee accurately at him.

JJEOK!

The sound of a face completely smashing was heard. Roy immediately turned his body towards the one who took out the secondary weapon, and in the meantime Maters took out a short sword and stabbed the neck of the enemy with the smashed face, finishing him off.

"You're quite something?"

Roy said. Maters didn't particularly reply. Hurrying to look towards Rickart, three corpses were already sprawling around. Meaning, four out of five were dead and only one was left.

By the way, Rickart's blade was on fire. That fire mixed with sunlight and looked white.

"Oh, my god!"

"Isn't that the Realm of Sun......"

The onlookers who saw Rickart's sword were astonished.

Malcolm, who was watching with arms crossed, naturally uncrossed his arms with an astounded expression. Because he only knew Rickart was at a substantial level, he truly hadn't expected it to be the Realm of Sun.

Unconcerned by the reactions of those people, Rickart looked around left and right, and walked towards the last remaining enemy.

"Do you have any last words you want to leave?"

The guy with tattoos all over his face and body also made a surprised expression seeing Rickart's burning sword. So rather than answering Rickart's question, he volunteered to leave his last words.

"May the Steel Reaper breathe his last, and guided by the brightest star, I am embraced in the bosom of the God King."

It sounded like a kind of prayer. However, to Rickart, the Steel Reaper himself, it didn't feel very pleasant. It was closer to feeling sour. Though the method was different from the Cult of Condemnation,. because it seemed he was worshipped as something akin to a god here too.

Still having spirit, the opponent launched a final strike at Rickart approaching like a grim reaper.

It was an attack striking down from left to right, but Rickart instead dodged to the left. That meant he was a few steps ahead of the opponent.

Though he just dodged slightly, the opponent ended up completely exposing his flank. As Rickart's sword struck the back of his neck, it was neatly chopped off snip.

Even before the head reached the floor, Rickart's sword was in the process of entering its scabbard.

Slide. Thud.

Thud.

Amid the silence circulating, only the trudging footsteps of water carriers and the creaking sound of the water carrying poles were heard.

As it's better for a human to show with one action rather than a hundred words, the gazes looking at Rickart had completely changed. Malcolm distinctly felt a sense of distance.

Of course Roy and Maters weren't like that.

"These guys really have nothing?"

Roy said while rummaging through the corpses. It would be a different story if you skinned them and used it as a scripture, but that wasn't going to happen.

By the way, a water carrier who looked as if he would only carry water no matter what happened in the world spoke to Rickart.

"Follow me."

Saying that abruptly out of nowhere, he solely just turned his back and trudged up the cliff path.

Because it was so out of the blue, Rickart just blinked his eyes and followed him up. Roy and Maters also followed, leaving the corpses behind.

The cave located in the middle of the cliff was at a height of about 4, 5 meters from the ground. It wasn't that high of a place, but they had to make way for other water carriers coming out drawing water.

They didn't even give a single glance to Rickart, Roy, or Maters. Rickart only followed the water carrier who told him to follow. Inside the cave could be seen dimly at least through the sunlight coming in from outside.

Not far away was the spring water, and surprisingly it was red, that was, blood. In that moment, a thought arose in Rickart's head: 'Huh?' What the, was it really the precious blood?

As the water carriers bowed to the spring and drew blood, clear water filled their buckets. Because they were wondering what this happening was, the three people's eyes went wide.

"If we scoop out all this blood, the curse of the dragon will also disappear."

The water carrier said.

"What curse?"

"A very long time ago, this place was originally a fertile plain. But it turned into a forest full of demonic energy due to the greed of Imperials. The Shadow of the King treats us as something akin to folklore, but we follow the God King in our own way. Unlike the natives in the past, it's just us doing it now. Not all old customs are barbaric."

Rickart really couldn't get a grasp on from where to where he should believe this story. Setting aside the God King and whatever, things like a fertile plain, the greed of Imperials, and a forest full of demonic energy.

"Of course the Shadow of the King is also the same in following the will of the God King in their own way. In the past, there was a custom among the natives of killing children as sacrifices or cannibalizing. The Shadow of the King killed them and cut off the evil custom. However, doing things by killing means you'll eventually kill innocent people if your judgment is wrong. Much time has passed. We merely remember for a long time since we don't speak."

"......"

"The Shadow of the King is numerous and tenacious. Now, since you have made them enemies, please I hope this strength can protect you even a little. This is a return gift."

Rickart, Roy, and Maters merely stood blankly and watched. The unnamed water carrier bowed to the spring of blood and drew blood. Clear water sloshed in the bucket as expected. It was strange seeing it again.

But suddenly, the water carrier took out a sharp stone and said.

"Medicine and poison depend on their dosage and usage. I will take the curse, and blessings shall dwell upon you as the power of the dragon."

While doing so, he plunged the sharp stone into his own neck without an inch of hesitation. The bloody water spouting from his neck streamed into the bucket, and he collapsed sideways, coughed weakly for a moment, trembled and died.

When he died, the other water carriers transported the corpse. One lifted a bucket and offered the water mixed with blood for Rickart to drink. His eyes were as calm as Rickart's when he murdered.

Rickart looked at Roy and Maters. Roy shrugged his shoulders, and Maters stepped forward.

"I will try drinking first."

With that, he took the bucket, put it to his lips, and gulped it down gulp gulp. A metallic smell of blood was felt, but it was just water.

He frowned and tilted his head, and handed it to Roy, and Roy gulped it down too. Roy handed the last remaining bloody water to Rickart.

Honestly, it wasn't cool because he didn't drink first, but anyway Rickart gulped it down too.

After a while, the three people's skin became red-hot like heated iron and turned translucent, revealing the bones and organs beneath the flesh.

Because the thumping heart, wriggling intestines, and round eyeballs could be seen exactly as they were, a thought crossed his mind wondering if something went wrong, but fortunately they returned to normal soon.

Wondering what happened to his body, Rickart and the other two examined their bodies.

"Do you feel the power of the dragon?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know either. Maters?"

"......I thought maybe a hand would newly grow at least."

Rickart tried generating mana inside his body, but he didn't feel any significant difference from that either. And he couldn't understand everything. The spring made of blood, and the water carrier killing himself saying it's a return favor.

They probably had their own behavioral norms, but it was very unfamiliar to strangers. As it was a bizarre place, the values and norms they pursued seemed bizarre too.

Or perhaps the water carrier's words were true. That in the distant past, this place was a fertile plain.

That was the desire and belief of the water carriers. That they would break the curse and restore abundance.

Rickart first left the cave. Coming outside, people were all looking up here. So it was exactly like a scene as if the legendary God King had returned alive.