A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 027

The two armies confronted each other on the plains outside the castle in the early morning.

Zima surveyed the Haskinderun forces that had advanced to intercept them.

"As expected. They're not many."

The number of Haskinderun soldiers looked similar to or even less than the hastily assembled punitive force. Their condition was poor too. Compared to the solid battle formation of the holy knights at the forefront of the punitive force, they looked utterly disorganized.

"Lord Zima, are you sure about this?"

"Are you talking about the wraith?"

"That too, but..."

Demian glanced at the carriage beside Zima. He also knew that a girl was riding inside. The fact that such a frail child was present on the battlefield bothered him.

"Ah, don't worry. That child is special. She must stay by my side. Nothing will happen."

"I understand. The holy knight order will handle the intercepting force. If we charge with speed, the wraith will show itself."

The previous day, their scouts had meticulously checked the battlefield and returned. There were no traps, and the city gate, destroyed during the civil war, was still under repair.

"Let's wait. They're the ones impatient."

Demian said no more, pulling down his visor. His breathing quickened, his breath swirling inside the cold metal. Euphoria surged within him.

'Now that I'm right before the battle, all idle thoughts fade away.'

The feeling he'd experienced when he killed Hank welled up again.

His heart pounded as if to burst, and it felt like electricity was running through his veins. All day, the shame and humiliation that had constricted his chest vanished in an instant. It was a thrill like nothing he had ever felt before.

His excited body instinctively moved to seek the next opponent.

When he came to, Ran was before him.

'I am Demian Hildebrandt. A holy knight who follows the holy command.'

He steeled himself and recited a prayer.

Shouts from far away grew nearer and nearer.

Uwaaahhh—!

"At last, the prey comes crawling to us of their own accord."

Zima shouted, looking down at the charging enemies from atop his horse. Amid their frantic rush, some soldiers tripped over their own feet and fell.

Demian drew his sword and cried out.

"Holy knight order, advance ten paces!"

"Ooh!"

About forty holy knights advanced with a heavy metallic clang.

"Shield wall!"

The front-row holy knights raised their shields high. Those in the back row aimed their spears through gaps in the interlocked shields.

"Uwaaahh—!!"

Haskinderun's soldiers charged in, scattered like hungry stray dogs. There was no formation, not even a commander in sight. They looked more pitiful than an armed band of bandits. Even a white-haired old man was among them.

The holy knights closed their ranks further, tightening their vigilance. They had heard of the separate detachment's disaster—comrades had died screaming because they let their guard down. Their grip on their spears and shields tightened.

"Spears!"

From behind the formation, Demian signaled the attack. The spears shot out like hedgehog quills between the shields.

Thud!

The spear tips pierced through soldiers' bodies. Their shabby armor shattered easily.

Even as the vanguard collapsed, the soldiers behind them tried to push forward more fiercely, showing no signs of hesitation.

'? No way!'

A sense of foreboding wrapped itself around Demian. He wasn't certain. He lacked the ability to differentiate between the living dead and the living. They just seemed like reckless humans who were unafraid to die. Still, he couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice.

"Drop the shield wall! Spread out and aim for their necks!"

The enemy outnumbered them, but they didn't need to stick to formation. As long as they didn't get entangled in a messy brawl, they could keep their distance and win.

'Lord Zima, not yet?'

Demian glanced quickly over his shoulder.

Zima narrowed his eyes, looking up at the sky.

The bright blue sky had darkened before they knew it. As if on cue, Zima adjusted his grip on the reins.

"Inquisitors, stick close to me. The rest of the Special Unit, support the holy knights."

In an instant, thick black clouds gathered. The Special Unit members whispered to each other as they witnessed the strange weather.

Zima opened the curtain of the carriage once to look at Emma, then tapped the coachman on the shoulder.

"Move back. If anything happens to me, do as instructed. There shouldn't be any problems, though."

"Yes, sir."

Dudududu!

Zima's horse shot forward like an arrow. The inquisitors quickly followed after him.

Zima and the inquisitors circled wide around the central battle, heading for the enemy rear. A strong headwind whipped Zima's face. Soon enough, he saw suspicious activity at the enemy's rear.

A black mist was gathering.

At a glance, it looked almost like black flames flickering. Its mass steadily increased and its density thickened. Wisps of the mist reached upward and touched the sky.

'A wraith.'

Shapes twisted within the black mist. Zima grabbed the hilt of his sword within his robe.

The undead called wraiths or death knights.

Some, aware of their existence, trembled in fear at these solidified ghosts, calling them the cursed ones. To Zima, however, they were merely a high-class magical beast.

'A bit troublesome.'

Zzzing.

Suddenly, a pale white light surged around Zima's body. The light quickly wrapped around him and seeped into the sword he held at a diagonal.

'That, that's?!'

Demian was fighting carefully, adjusting his distance. In the midst of his focus, a flash of white light flickered at the edge of his vision. The light vanished, but it was burned into his memory.

"Demian!"

Dudududu!

It was as if Demian were entranced. He spurred his horse onward. His comrades called out frantically behind him, but it was useless.

'That is unmistakably holy power! Lord Zima can wield holy power as well? What on earth is happening?'

At last, the wraith appeared. Its shapeless body moved, scattering ash-like smoke.

「Oooo! I, Dietrich, knight of Haskinderun, have awakened again?!」

Everyone heard his booming voice. As Wraith Dietrich gestured, little wraiths with eyes glowing with ominous light rose around him.

Kaaang!

Zima's sword clashed with the sword-shaped mist wielded by Dietrich, producing a loud metallic sound. At the moment of friction, the white light flashed yet again.

"It's remarkably intact. Someone took great care making you."

「I crave living souls?!」

Dietrich's movements were no different from a living human's. The memories and sensations of his life controlled him. As a mass of mist, he executed precise and unbroken drills.

While Zima and Dietrich clashed, the inquisitors fighting the smaller wraiths began to fall one by one, crying out in agony.

「Come, mortals!」

Dietrich swung his arm in a wide arc. Gale winds spread in a circle from him. In the blink of an eye, the shock wave swept across the area. The caught inquisitors were lifted into the air and then slammed down.

Demian staggered violently and almost went flying. He opened his eyes wide.

Even in the howling storm, Zima stood firm. The white light rippled along his sword, cutting down the black mist wherever it went.

'That's Ran's swordsmanship?!'

Demian's pupils widened. He had watched from right behind when Ran faced Wraith Esteban. Everything he saw that day was still vivid in his memory.

And now—

Zima was replicating that very same scene, without a hint of error.

Swish swish swish—!

It was almost too fast for the eye to follow. Only the air split with a sharp sound.

After executing the flurry, Zima stepped back a few paces. At the same time, Dietrich's body scattered in all directions.

'Hmph.'

Zima briefly caught his breath and bent his upper body. His gaze followed after the mist scattered in the air like remains.

'? As I thought.'

The mist once again formed into a humanoid shape. The smaller wraiths multiplied as well.

「I am immortal.」

"Right, for now, let's say so."

Zima spat out the dirt that had entered his mouth. He changed out his worn blade and wondered how much longer he could hold out.

Only three inquisitors remained.

'If I'm not careful, I might be in danger myself.'

He grasped his sword hilt and gave a bitter smile.

* * *

Ran and Peco had infiltrated inside Haskinderun castle.

The castle was eerily quiet, as if empty. Only the sound of a chilling wind rustling the twigs brushed their ears.

"It's kind of creepy."

Peco muttered. The two of them hid at the corner of a building. Occasionally, groups of soldiers on patrol could be seen.

Following the flow of demonic energy like a trail of footprints, Ran mapped out a route in his head. Meanwhile, Peco watched warily in all directions.

"Don't tell me they killed everyone? Like those corpses in the granary?"

"Who knows."

"Even if it was a battlefield, this domain should have had thousands of people living here. It doesn't make sense for it to be this quiet. Did they evacuate everyone somewhere?"

"They might have."

"Brother, you've gotten a lot colder since I last saw you. They say a position changes a person. But you, at least... You aren't going to become like—?"

"Shh."

Ran pressed a finger to the tip of his beak. He had finished tracking. He moved along the route clearly mapped in his mind.

Peco's words, half-heard as they walked, echoed inside him.

'Have I gotten colder?'

He'd never thought about that.

'I am Ran, now. Not Cyrano.'

He believed he had left his soul behind in Quersa. So nothing should have changed from the start.

'I am here under a special order to punish the corrupt mainland church—'

Ran grew closer to Cyrano. Cyrano grew closer to Ran.

The great holy warrior and apostle of God.

The great evil to destroy evil.

Soon, the ambiguous boundary would collapse. So, Ran decided to push back even harder.

As long as he stayed true to his will and desires at every moment, no matter which way his compass pointed, it would show the right path.

Whether as Ran, or as Cyrano. Whether as a priest, or as a man.

He resolved not to leave regrets when the time came.

"Ran! That's the manor!"

Black mist billowed over the tall roof of the manor.

"Peco. I'll go in alone."

"What are you talking about, brother?! Look at all those guards. How are you going to handle that alone? We live and die together. I'm going in, too."

"No, you handle them. There's no time."

"Huh? What?"

Peco started to reach for the hilt at his waist, then tilted his head to the side. Ran, without a word, kicked Peco in the flank.

"An intruder!"

"This way! There's just one!"

"The fool, walking right in through the front gate alone. Where does he get that confidence?!"

Alarms sounded from all directions, signaling the intrusion. The number of enemies swelled instantly. Unlike the soldiers who'd gone out for interception, all the guards were properly equipped.

Peco, dazed, stared blankly at them.

He turned his head, dumbfounded, to see Ran slipping over the wall, scaling the outer wall of the manor.

"It's a Special Unit inquisitor. Don't let your guard down, surround him slowly!"

The guards formed a ring around Peco.

Peco let out a long sigh, tilting his upper body and resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Clang!

Ran crashed through a large window and entered the manor.

Crunch.

The sound of glass shards crunching echoed inside. The manor was shrouded in silence.

'Close.'

Following the trail of demonic energy, Ran moved. There wasn't a single unarmed person in sight. The remaining soldiers must have all gone out the front to catch Peco.

Creak.

Ran carefully pushed open a door. The trail ended here.

'Found it.'

Beyond the door was a spacious room like a hall. Count Haskinderun and his small personal guard were protecting a dark mage in the center of the room.

The dark mage appeared exactly as Ran had seen in his vision.

A mere boy with a youthful face.

"??, ?. ??, ???."

Yet the sound he made was bizarre. An old man's strained voice filled the room.

The dark mage was wholly absorbed in waving his arms in the void, as if guiding the black mist and drawing ritual signs.

'I'll end it in one blow.'

Peeking through the crack in the door, Ran drew a dagger from his cloak. Before infiltrating, he had received a black iron dagger from Zima.

Ran kicked the door open.

Crash!

The black iron dagger flew in a straight line, embedding itself dead center in the boy's forehead.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Will it end just like that?
Also, Zima can use holy power?
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】