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Chapter 29
Rumble—
The exhibition hall, which had been falling as if it were plummeting underground, shook violently.
Cillia pressed hard against Crondel’s chest—right where the necklace was hidden under his clothes.
“Hold this tight.”
I don’t want to waste any more activations, but…
Given the situation, there was no choice. Cillia grabbed Crondel, stepped back, and picked up Periot again. The sword trembled nonstop, humming with a strange resonance. The moment she took a deep breath, that all-too-familiar sensation rushed in.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
That familiar stirring presence again.
Cillia turned her head slightly toward Crondel.
“You said it’s the wraith leader, right?”
“Yeah. From what I heard, he used to be the chief of the thief village—”
Kyaaaaaaak!
Crondel’s words were cut off by a deafening scream from outside the hall. Before they knew it, the corridor had vanished, revealing a vast open space. Cillia peered outside, her face going pale.
“That’s not a wraith.”
“…….”
What appeared wasn’t a wraith—but a massive beast in the form of a black serpent. Crondel stared blankly.
“…A demonic beast?”
A monster like that, in the royal treasury? Unthinkable.
Yet, there it was.
The thing was enormous—its body the size of a building, thick enough that three grown men couldn’t wrap their arms around it. The sight was absurd.
“…I guess I can see what it’s been eating to grow that big.”
Wraiths clung all over its body, their upper halves emerging from the serpent’s flesh, screaming and flailing their arms. It must have absorbed their magic instead of feeding on living humans to grow stronger. The sight was grotesque.
Boom! The serpent slammed its tail once, shaking the entire exhibition hall. Cillia clicked her tongue and grabbed Crondel.
“That wraith leader—it looks like that thing ate him.”
Near the monster’s mouth, something large and torn hung—likely the leader’s remains. The serpent’s gaping maw glowed faintly gold from within.
Things had gotten far messier than she expected. For a moment, Cillia wondered why am I even doing this? but quickly pushed the thought away.
It’s already happened. First, deal with this and get out.
Thinking that she’d beat the living daylights out of Ilrod later, Cillia asked,
“So that’s the source of the curse, right?”
“Yeah.”
Then it wasn’t difficult. Slaying a demonic beast was much easier than exorcising a vengeful wraith leader.
As Cillia lifted Periot again from the display, Crondel pulled out a dagger from his coat, clearly intending to join her.
“You stay here.”
“But—”
“You’ll just get in the way.”
Cillia said it coldly on purpose, then stepped through the eerie glass door into the open area. She didn’t want to see him throw his life away trying to prove himself again.
Just don’t die in front of me.
Whoosh—
The air outside was different—heavier, fouler, stabbing at her lungs.
The massive serpent, coiled in its nest, glared down at her.
Cillia swung Periot lightly.
“Is this what you’re after?”
Kyaaaak!
The serpent lunged forward, maw wide open. Cillia leapt into the air, twisting midair to drive her blade down—but before she could strike, the wraiths clinging to its body grabbed her.
—Don’t want to die.
“Tch.”
Cillia sliced through them instead and backed off.
Slaaash!
The serpent’s tail crashed down. Cillia blocked it with her sword and slashed upward, aiming to sever it completely. The prince had said Periot was an anti-demonic blade—it had worked well enough against the wraiths earlier.
“Then maybe it can stop a demon beast from regenerating.”
Slash!
“……”
Contrary to her hopes, the severed tail began regenerating—but very slowly. The sword hummed again.
“Well, you are still in pieces, after all.”
Periot was not whole, so it made sense that its power was limited.
Still, if it were complete, the theory would hold. Even slowing regeneration is progress.
“Looks like this might actually be doable.”
Feeling her mana circuits flare open, Cillia swung the blade wide. The heat was so intense that the metal looked white-hot. As she slashed across the serpent’s mouth, the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
Kyaaaaaaaaak!
She raised her sword to strike again—but the wraiths cried out and clung to her once more.
—I want to live.
—The king… the king…
“You’re already dead.”
Cillia’s tone was calm. They were wraiths—beings not so different from herself. Dead there, awakened elsewhere.
Their voices no longer sent chills down her spine. In fact, she almost felt a strange familiarity.
Vwooom—
Periot pulsed urgently.
“I know.”
Using the leverage from a severed wraith’s grip, Cillia vaulted up and landed atop the serpent’s body. From the wound at its mouth, golden liquid spilled. The wraiths wailed even louder when they saw it.
—Gold! Gold!
—Don’t want to die!
They reached for the spilled gold, clutching it in trembling hands—and screamed in confusion as if the gold burned them.
Just as Cillia aimed her blade—
“!”
Something grabbed her. The wraiths, their numbers swelling, shoved handfuls of gold toward her and screamed.
—Gold! Take it! Spare us! Don’t kill us! At least spare the children!
The serpent’s jaws snapped past her, narrowly missing her hand—the one holding Periot, now bound tightly by ghostly hands.
King!
“Your king…”
“Cillia!”
Crondel’s shout. He came running out from the exhibition room.
“I told you not to come out!”
Even with the tourmaline, this was insane.
But before she could react, Crondel threw the gemstone back inside the room.
“You crazy bastard!”
He barely seemed to hear her. Panting hard, he ran straight at the serpent and drove his dagger into its body, climbing with desperate agility. It looked reckless as hell, but somehow he managed to reach her.
“You maniac! Did ‘don’t come out’ sound like a suggestion to you?! And why did you throw the gem away?!”
“I had to help! That necklace’s power’s too strong—it’d be a waste to use all its activations here!”
“It’s not worth more than your damn life, idiot!”
The serpent convulsed violently. Cillia instinctively grabbed his hand with her free one.
King!
The wraiths screamed again. Cillia shouted at Crondel without thinking.
“Answer them!”
“What?”
“Answer them!”
She knew it was a gamble. She met his eyes. At this point, it’s our only chance.
“Now! Prove it to them!”
Crondel looked stunned, then seemed to understand. He shouted—
“…Your king is here!”
“……”
“I’ll prove it—with blood!”
He drew his palm across Periot’s blade, reopening the same wound as before.
Blood dripped, suspended in the air—and when a droplet touched one of the wraiths, everything went still.
Crondel was of the royal line—the descendant of the tyrant who caused all this.
He wasn’t really a king, more of a reckless prince who’d probably ruin the country if crowned—but right now, in this place, he was the only one who could bear the king’s blood.
Of course, if this goes wrong, he’ll die.
Wraiths had no reason to feel kindness toward royalty. The only reason they were silent now was confusion between life and death. If even one realized the truth…
Cillia didn’t take her eyes off him, ready to protect him if needed. After all, she was the one who’d pushed him into danger.
King! King!
The wraiths’ cries grew desperate. Crondel hesitated, eyes darting through the air before finding Cillia’s. She didn’t rush him—just said quietly,
“Say what only you can say.”
“……”
“I’ll be right here.”
Crondel took a deep breath.
“You are free now.”
His grip on her hand tightened. His voice grew stronger.
“The gold has already been paid. You’ve paid more than enough.”
A cold wind swept through the space—carrying both murderous intent and a strange joy.
With bloodied fist raised high, the prince declared:
“What was done to you was unjust.”
“……”
“And I take responsibility for it.”
The wind roared wildly. Cillia steadied him as he wavered, his golden hair whipping around. Each time he nearly collapsed, she caught him.
Crondel’s eyes flicked toward her—burning with a strange heat.
“By royal blood, I swear…”
Whooooosh—
“…You are free.”
Crack—
A chorus of cries—half screams, half cheers—rushed in like a wave. The wraiths began to dissolve into dust, one by one. The ones gripping Cillia’s hand vanished too.
Whoosh—
Freed at last, Cillia dashed forward along the serpent’s body. Every step on its scales made her mana circuits flare. Ahead, the serpent’s massive head loomed, mouth frozen open. It looked powerless now that its wraith energy source was gone.
“Words alone aren’t enough.”
The blade gleamed sharply.
“I’ll truly set you free.”
She looked up at the fading fragments of wraiths drifting through the air.
“Your suffering—and this curse.”
Then Cillia drove Periot down with all her strength—straight through the serpent’s head.
