Master and Disciple (4)

In the past, gods were born through worship, faith, and emotions.

The fear and reverence held toward something created them, so during the ancient Great War era, countless gods were born and died in an endless cycle.

God against god.

Those who remained true to their divine names versus those who chose to live in harmony.

Classifications emerged among those who were once the same gods, and those who were simply honest with themselves became demons.

And as the war between gods and demons continued, he appeared.

“What on earth are you…?”

Originally, the war between gods and demons had been relatively evenly matched. That’s why it dragged on, and the world became increasingly desolate.

And then there was an existence that completely flipped the situation.

He was a being born not from human faith and emotions, but from the fear and despair between demons and gods.

The Demon King, Hadard.

With just this one being, the tide of battle shifted, and demons elevated him as their king while gods considered him a nuisance.

But they didn’t know.

That this demon born through demons and gods wasn’t a calamity for either side, but simply the purest of existences.

“Why…?”

The Demon King, Hadard, killed everything that caught his eye.

That was his way of living.

The way he expressed himself, born amid fear and despair.

Overwhelming violence, endless despair, and inescapable terror.

Red flowers bloomed whenever his eight swords graced the air.

He never faltered before great armies and never stopped his advance even when facing obvious traps.

Demons avoided him, and gods strived to eliminate him.

“Haa…”

Countless wounds were carved into Hadard, who roamed the battlefield without rest.

There was no one to heal him.

His wounds accumulated, and Hadard grew increasingly weaker.

Yet the gods couldn’t help but fear Hadard.

They couldn’t overcome his pure malice, the expression of an existence that would not compromise.

Yes, all gods were overwhelmed by a single demon.

That’s why they compromised.

They decided to persuade the Demon King, who stood on no one’s side.

And the one chosen to carry this out was the Saintess of Love and Hate, considered the most cherished apostle of the Dream God, Morpheus.

“Hello, Demon King. I am Revenna, the Saintess of Love and Hate.”

“…”

It was like a situation where the gods had pushed forward a sacrificial lamb. But this was also something Revenna had volunteered for after assessing the situation.

The Demon King was a terror only between gods and demons. He showed relative mercy to humans and other races.

At the very least, he would listen to what they had to say.

Sometimes he even spared them depending on their story, so it was undeniable that Revenna was the most suitable candidate.

She knew this as well, which is why she volunteered to be the representative of the gods, and so made contact with Hadard.

“Would you like to make a bet with me?”

“A bet?”

A bet between a demon and a human.

Could Hadard indeed make Revenna despair through means other than violence? Could Revenna force Hadard to embrace humanity?

The bet began.

The stake was everything Revenna had. The duration was until one of them acknowledged defeat.

Until then, Hadard would not kill Revenna, and Revenna would continuously endure Hadard’s trials.

And in the midst of this process,

Revenna became disillusioned with humans and ultimately fell from being a promising apostle of the gods to a mere Malice.

But despite that,

“…I will still love humans, Hadard. So you will also come to love humans. That’s our bet, after all.”

She did not despair.

“Hahahahaha!”

What did he feel from her demeanor?

Did he expect to find something in her sublimity?

After that, Hadard no longer forced trials upon Revenna.

He just stayed by her side.

“Alright, fine. Let’s continue our bet.”

Hadard felt something inexplicable being fulfilled just by that.

He still didn’t understand love for humans, but…

“If you hadn’t become a Malice, I would’ve been in quite a state too.”

At least he could say he’d come to love someone.

A contract between just the two of them, twisted because Revenna was no longer human.

It was still ongoing.

*     *      *

Hadard blankly watched the flickering campfire, organizing his thoughts.

After the questions and answers with Lost, he had eaten the meal Línea prepared.

There was no need to hide.

Hadard had about 10 years left to live. He had never once clung to a long life to begin with.

What was gradually wearing away at Hadard’s body now wasn’t the passage of time, but the aftermath of wounds sustained during the war.

He had never once treated his wounds. It didn’t matter to him.

If he died on the battlefield, if he fulfilled his purpose for existing, that would be enough.

But what about now?

-Do you have any regrets?

Yes, this would be regret.

Hadard still had regrets. There was someone who would be left alone if he disappeared.

Hadard thought of Revenna.

He recalled her request.

-Please teach this child swordsmanship, Hadard.

-Why should I?

-Because I wish it.

-I see.

He remembered when she had brought in a child covered in burn marks.

Honestly, he hadn’t cared either way.

For Hadard, Lost was just something cumbersome he had taken in because Revenna wished it.

But as is the nature of time and relationships, there came a moment when even Hadard began to expect something from Lost.

“Ah… No, Lost.”

“Master. It seems like you’re about to say something, so why not just say it outright? What letter comes after ‘Ah’?”

“I have expectations.”

“Damn it, you’re just saying whatever you want again.”

Hadard knew.

It was probably from the beginning.

That Revenna was already so broken that he wouldn’t need to intervene.

She was a strange person who hated humans yet loved them.

Perhaps that’s why.

“I believe that with your existence, Revenna will also change.”

“…Master, whose side are you on exactly? And what is Teacher thinking?”

“The seasoning is good.”

“Ah, thank you! I’ll keep trying my best!”

“This is driving me crazy…”

Lost sighed at the sight of Hadard thoughtlessly blurting out words and Línea responding to such meaningless statements. It was an exhausting combination.

“Did you ask whose side I’m on?”

“Ah, I’m honored that you remember that. Will you answer?”

“If the criterion is whether I’m aligning with Revenna’s plan… well, I suppose I’m on no one’s side.”

“So what exactly is that plan…”

“You’re asking the obvious.”

Hadard put down his bowl for a moment and looked at Lost.

During that brief moment when Lost was rendered speechless by Hadard’s solemn gaze,

Hadard provided an answer.

“Revenna told me not to say.”

“Ah, I see… Of course. It’s certainly something worth keeping under wraps.”

Lost let out a hollow laugh, as if he was already accustomed to this.

*     *      *

With Master joining us, there were subtle changes to our daily routine.

“Lost. Now I think I know who you take after. Haha! It feels quite satisfying.”

“…You little brat.”

Claire was looking down at me with a triumphant expression. Though Claire herself didn’t look much better, she wasn’t as bad as me.

“Hit me if you can! If you had the strength, you’d be rushing at me with a sword at least! Hahaha!”

Claire is receiving combat training from Titan. They ended up together because they handle similar types of weapons.

The weapon Claire wields is a massive black double-bladed axe.

Compared to the hammer Titan uses, there’s not much difference, I suppose.

I’m starting to think we have too many frontliners, but it’s okay since I take responsibility for the backline sometimes.

The real problem is the presence trying to deliberately add me to the frontline.

“Get up, Lost.”

“…Master. I’m seriously going to die at this rate.”

“You became an apostle, didn’t you? Heal yourself.”

“Wounds can be healed, but fatigue cannot.”

“Do it.”

“…”

No, it’s not something I can just do because you say so!

Isn’t your expectation of an apostle a bit too high, Master?

“How will you ever reach the level of a master if you keep resting whenever you get the chance?”

“…You’ve never once let me rest properly.”

It had been a constant stream of training except when we were moving or eating meals.

Even Titan doesn’t push himself this hard. The same goes for Claire, who’s training under Titan.

“Disappointing.”

“…”

Rather than talk back, I decided to just remain silent, lying flat on the ground. I’m actually going to die at this rate.

The ground feels pleasantly cool.

Ah, what should we have for dinner?

Could we just make do with some of the smoked venison from last time?

It’s such a hassle to even light a fire…

“He’s completely spent. He’s already at his limit. So, spar with me instead.”

“Sure, why not.”

While I was lying there in a dazed state, Titan, who lives and breathes training, asked Master for a sparring match.

Lately, I’ve come to consider Titan a true friend.

If he hadn’t intervened like this, I would have died before reaching Alfheim.

“Lost, are you alright? Let me help you up.”

“Thanks, Línea. And let’s get away from here as quickly as possible. If Master sees me standing, he might draw his sword again.”

Master doesn’t warn with words.

The start of a sparring match always begins with him suddenly drawing his sword.

And then follows a match where we edge between life and death dozens, hundreds of times. If there was anything to learn from it, I had to learn it through my own eyes.

-Disappointing. I’ve told you so many times that’s the problem.

-No, Master, you’ve never said a single word.

-Are you talking back?

-Damn it…

Without a single piece of advice, amid the relentless onslaught, I had continuously disappointed Master.

The moment I realized all my memories of Master were through rose-tinted glasses, I recalled that my past was actually hell.

“Lost, it looks like those two will be at it for a while, so we should probably prepare dinner.”

“…Okay.”

Honestly, I didn’t even want to move, but it was better than staying here.

Moreover, my plan to just make do with jerky for dinner seemed impossible after seeing Claire sitting on the carriage, chewing on jerky.

She’s eating all of that tasteless stuff by herself, so we’ll need more food.

“Take care. I’m too hungry to move anymore.”

“…Damn brat.”

My inner malice starts to boil seeing that the one I intended to be the most harsh toward seems the most comfortable.

If I were to become a Malice because of this, it would all be Claire’s fault.

“Let’s go, Lost. It’s like a date.”

“Ah, yes. A date sounds good.”

Honestly, I’d like to drag Claire along too, but I can’t help it.

Since Línea is hoping for this, if I don’t go along with it, tonight’s dinner will probably only consist of things I dislike.

Her small acts of revenge would be fatal to me in my exhausted state.

“Sigh… What can we eat in a swamp like this?”

The place where we set up camp this time is near a swampy area where your feet sink just from walking a little.

After searching for prey, we discovered and hunted an alligator magical beast.

For reference, it was a huge monster over 3 meters long, but Línea, perhaps because she’s a beastkin, was able to drag that alligator magical beast without any trouble.

What incredible strength. It’s so incredible that I decided to walk three steps away from her.

“Why are you keeping your distance?”

“No, it’s just that the position was uncomfortable. It felt too deep, that’s all.”

“Hmm…”

Línea quietly stares at me.

Seems like my excuse didn’t hold up.

I obediently narrowed the distance to within three steps again.

Fortunately, that seemed sufficient as Línea began to wag her tail.

“By the way, being near a swamp definitely makes it feel harder.”

“Yeah. And there’s no wind either… Wait a minute.”

Come to think of it, there hasn’t been any wind at all since earlier.

Yes, not even once.

A phenomenon I’d normally ignore without a second thought.

But considering the direction we’re heading, there couldn’t be a clearer danger signal.

“…Let’s hurry back. And we should adjust our camp position a bit.”

It seems we were already overlapping with the territory of the <Wind’s Tomb>.

For now, we’re only feeling its effects, but it’s better to be careful.

“It looks like we’ve stepped into Vedrfolnir’s domain.”