The Knight Who Protects the Weak

Chapter 016: Crimson Flame Cult (3)

Ayan, leading the way, groped through the darkness to find the path.

I stuck close to his side, keeping watch on our surroundings as I followed.

“Purgatory?”

“…Yes. It means a holy war to wash away worldly filth and purify the soul.”

They called the cave where the children were imprisoned that.

Knowing their purpose was to make them sacrificial offerings, I couldn’t help but frown.

“No ordinary lunatics, huh. Not a school, but a cult?”

“….”

It was too dark to see Ayan’s face clearly, but I could hear his tense breathing.

The question of why someone like him was in such a state rose to my throat… but I swallowed it.

His story wasn’t important right now.

A voice came from behind.

“Imperial. No matter how I think about it, this is reckless.”

“I told you clearly. Stay out of it.”

“Fighting them is dangerous enough, but your actions now will cause a huge ripple in the region. The deputy leader… no, the trading company will be in a tough spot.”

I stopped walking and turned around.

The anxious gazes of my companions and the eerie moonlight filtering down enveloped me.

What should I say to make them understand?

I tilted my head slowly from side to side, thinking.

“Trading company lackey, Zephyros grunt. Or maybe a disciple worried about his master.”

“…What?”

“Pick one.”

Due to our height difference, I loomed over Maserin, creating an intimidating stance.

Not wanting unnecessary tension, I turned back and gestured to Ayan to hurry.

Perhaps because of my sharp words, no more complaints followed.

Only the occasional sound of dry wind brushing past my ears broke the cold silence.

We were passing through a narrow, valley-like passage when Ayan reached the end, pressed his back against the rock wall, and let out a sigh.

His voice trembled.

“There it is.”

I leaned out slightly to peek around the corner.

Three or four figures in the same attire as the ones we’d encountered earlier caught my eye first.

The entrance presumed to be Purgatory looked so ordinary that, if I hadn’t known, I might have passed it by without a second thought.

“They didn’t used to station people outside like that. Probably… because I disappeared.”

“We need to move before the leader hears about it. If their numbers increase, the rescue will get tricky.”

“N-No, if my calculations are right… the guard shift is still a ways off and the third-generation disciples fear the leader’s punishment, so they won’t report it right away. They’ll try to find me themselves first.”

Hmm, I must’ve been thinking too much like a soldier.

If that’s the case, then good.

I shifted my gaze and spoke to Jayden.

“I’ll leave the entrance to you. If any of them show up, don’t engage—just come inside immediately.”

“Bihen, are you… really sure about this?”

“Yes. It won’t take long and you, kid, come with me.”

Maserin’s eyes widened.

“…Me?”

“They’re children, so it’s better to have a familiar face first. They’ll cooperate faster during the rescue if they see someone they know. Plus, you can scout the interior layout.”

For once, Maserin didn’t argue and just stared at me.

Probably wondering how I knew such details.

Thanks to my past life’s experience. Ironically… not from saving refugees, but the opposite.

‘Deception tactics.’

The Empire’s propaganda unit used to boast that deception—incitement, division, persuasion—was the “flower of conquest wars.”

Obsessed with quantifying when and how humans succumbed to extreme fear and despair, they categorized and measured it all.

Following their orders, I scraped the bottom of the war, and naturally, I learned.

“Hoo…”

I let my thoughts drift.

Recalling the past brought guilt? Or the disorientation of being in the opposite situation?

‘…No.’

I thought I’d long grown numb to such emotions.

…Probably.

‘Focus, Bihen.’

Tap!

I kicked off the ground and closed in on them.

My sword was overwhelmingly faster than their shock or even their realization of my presence.

Slash!

The first strike hit, and I pressed forward.

I could swing purely on instinct.

If a duel between skilled swordsmen was a breathless contest of finding the perfect opening, these guys were like straw dummies with every path wide open to me.

Thud, thud, thud, collapse—

I didn’t bother confirming the results.

The sound of bodies hitting the ground was enough.

I gestured to Ayan and Maserin behind me while keeping my eyes fixed on Purgatory’s entrance.

The entrance was shrouded in silent, rippling shadows.

‘….’

The Empire’s propaganda unit used to lock defiant Kingdom soldiers in caves like this and commit horrifying acts.

In my memory, there were people who shouldn’t have been there.

Like the families of executed Kingdom soldiers, for instance.

* * *

Purgatory’s interior was different from what I’d seen outside.

Strange, self-luminescent stones, like the Empire’s night pearls, were embedded in the walls, making the passage surprisingly bright.

I stared at them in fascination until Maserin, who’d been watching me slyly, spoke up.

“Mana stones. Made by infusing mana into a raw stone called Harcon. Beyond lighting, they can serve various purposes—intrusion detection, self-destruction, even live broadcasts.”

“…Impressive.”

“But those functions require a high-level manipulator or an upper-circle mage, so most magic schools can’t even dream of using them.”

In my past life, magic schools and such artifacts had all been lost.

A buried question about why the magic schools went extinct resurfaced for a moment.

“Bihen…”

Ayan, walking a step ahead, whispered without turning, his voice trembling as if summoning courage.

“Why are you going this far? You’re not even from the Kingdom…”

“Got a problem with me being Imperial?”

“N-No, that’s not it. I just don’t understand. You gain nothing from this and the Crimson Flame Cult isn’t even a notoriously evil school, so you might end up…”

“Cervantes.”

“Yes?”

“Never mind. Stop worrying about useless things and guide us properly.”

Ayan, who’d been slowly turning, flinched.

I ignored Maserin’s gaze from the side and acted nonchalant.

The straight passage continued for a while. No prisoners or guards in sight.

That aside, we’d come quite far, yet the path didn’t end, making it hard to gauge how vast this Purgatory was. Built by human hands? Absurd.

Just then, Ayan stopped. He faced a smoothly carved rock wall.

Maserin muttered.

“Dead end?”

“No. A stone gate.”

His next action was natural.

Ayan, with his back to us, reached toward the ‘stone gate.’

“This gate is a kind of magical device. It opens through an interaction between the mana of a disciple personally designated by the Crimson Flame leader and the mana sealed within the gate. Why I can open it… I don’t know.”

Wooong—

I couldn’t help but widen my eyes.

From Ayan’s hand on the gate, a bright red light spread rapidly, like blood vessels in an irregular pattern.

“This is…”

“I don’t know either. It’s not the Crimson Flame Cult’s emblem…”

A large symbol formed first at the gate’s center.

Less a symbol, more like grotesque hieroglyphs scrawled in blood.

Similar patterns quickly filled the rectangular border, and the entire design glowed intensely before the gate began to split open with a heavy rumble.

Before the scene beyond came into view, a foul stench hit my nose first.

Maserin and I grimaced simultaneously, while Ayan lowered his head in resignation.

“The smell of death. They often leave corpses lying around.”

“Insane…”

“They conduct human experiments under the guise of mana anatomy. Especially… the younger the person, the clearer the mana core’s shape…”

Why did that sound familiar? I must’ve heard it in my past life, tried to ignore it, and erased it from memory.

I sighed quietly, then spoke as if nothing was wrong.

“Where are the captured kids?”

“There’s a staircase at the end of this corridor. Below it is a large area where they’re held. Probably with the third-generation disciples…”

“Good. Maserin, stick close to Ayan, just in case.”

This time, I took the lead.

On either side of the wide corridor, evenly spaced rooms hinted at their grim purpose.

Beneath tightly shut iron doors, dark red liquid pooled.

Perhaps because my pace quickened, Ayan, following behind, spoke in a slightly breathless voice.

“B-Bihen. The Purgatory warden is a high-ranking second-generation disciple.”

“So?”

“J-Just… if something happens to you, maybe leave a will so I can remember you…”

What an idiot.

I flicked his forehead hard.

Thwack!

“Ow…! Why all of a sudden…”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

Ayan’s words were like pouring oil on my already burning heart.

This was taking longer than expected, so I resolved to cut down anyone who got in my way as I strode down the stairs.

The moment I noticed the surroundings growing brighter, an absurd sight unfolded before me.

“Welcome, you Zephyros rats.”

The burly man who spoke seemed to be the Purgatory warden Ayan mentioned, standing confidently in front of a dozen or so third-generation disciples.

But they weren’t the problem.

The surrounding walls were riddled with holes, like chicken coops. Beyond thorn-like bars, not iron grates, were…

Pale eyes floating on grimy faces.

“It’s Ayan-hyung…!”

“Big brother!”

“Ayan-hyung is here!”

As tearful voices erupted, some third-generation disciples struck the bars with metal rods.

“Shut up, you brats! Are you crazy?”

“Who’s the loudest? Straight to the reeducation room!”

The area fell silent instantly.

Only the faint sound of stifled sobs remained.

I stood there, dazed, before finally speaking in the quiet.

Seeing it with my own eyes left me utterly speechless.

“You lunatics. What is all this?”

“Why so surprised? You know already. It’s the foundation for great progress. Most are born of filthy bloodlines or are children of vile criminals. In this sense, they contribute greatly to purifying the Kingdom! Far more than you Zephyros riffraff!”

Swish—!

A swordsman’s greatest virtue is maintaining composure.

But sometimes, I want to let go of reason and rely purely on instinct.

Thud!

Like right now.

“Urgh…”

When I came to, the Purgatory warden was writhing at my feet.

The shocked gasps of the third-generation disciples were loud and clear.

I clenched my teeth so hard they might shatter.

“Disgusting bastards.”