The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 107

She wept for a long time before the wretched corpse. Only when her tears had dried on her cheeks did Veronica finally rise and stagger forward.

Her mind was blank. She could think of nothing. A massive shadow passed overhead and disappeared. The Bahamut were gathering in the city center, making Veronica feel like a fish swimming against the current.

Did they see her as nothing more than a rejected specimen or a mere mutation?

Some turned to sniff at her but did nothing more. They did not attack her, despite her being alone.

Veronica walked toward the collapsed mountain. When Philip had asked where the ‘First One’ might be, she had answered that Blasen was the most likely place. She would probably end up wandering aimlessly.

“Ah.”

She had been lost in thought while walking, and sure enough, she tripped over the debris. Thud. Her sword slipped from her grasp, skidding across the ground as her knee slammed into the earth. Veronica groaned, looking at the blood seeping from her scraped skin. More unbearable than the physical pain was the voice that echoed in her mind.

“You sprain your ankle so often, I wonder how you ever managed to dance.”

She held her breath until Leon’s memory passed. Like submerging in water, she instinctively knew that breathing at this moment would only bring pain. Looking back would only hinder her from moving forward. She had to become stronger. She had to stand up.

Veronica clenched her trembling hands, then lifted her head. Before her stood a towering mountain, its grandeur undiminished despite being partially collapsed.

It loomed sky-high, as if cheering her on.

A hawk flew toward it.

As she followed its flight with her eyes, she heard a strange scraping sound. She looked down at her sword, which had slipped from her grasp. At first, she thought she had imagined it. Had the sword just… moved?

“No way…”

The tip of the blade gleamed as it reflected the sunlight. Hesitating, Veronica picked up the sword and placed it in the opposite direction. Nothing happened.

She exhaled in relief, feeling both reassured and disappointed at the same time. But then—scrape. The sword suddenly spun around and pointed in the same direction again.

A chill ran down her spine.

There was no other way to interpret this.

Veronica carefully picked up Hennessis. The sword was pointing toward what she suspected to be the epicenter of the landslide. It was a perilous path, requiring her to traverse jagged ravines and cliffs. A place no one with an injured leg should attempt to go. Veronica knew this.

She knew it in her mind.

As she managed to rise, a drop of blood trickled down her pale leg. After a brief pause, Veronica started walking with a limp.

She must have walked for half a day. From the time the sun rose in the east to when it disappeared beyond the mountains.

Her throat was parched, and as expected, the road grew increasingly treacherous. At one point, her leg got caught between massive rocks, nearly trapping her. The moment she lost focus, she risked stepping incorrectly. Each time, she wiped away her sweat and pushed forward.

As she climbed higher, the number of Bahamut sharply decreased. The reason was simple—these paths were too narrow for creatures larger than humans to navigate.

“…Is there no way around?”

Veronica stared blankly at the sheer cliff. Her loosely held sword clanked as it tried to point toward the same direction.

The roar of rushing water echoed from far below. The perilous cliffside seemed more suited for mountain goats than humans. There was no proper path. One misstep would mean certain death. Her reluctance to proceed disguised itself as a longing for rest.

But…

Rest itself wasn’t the problem. The question was whether she could rise again after stopping. Looking down at her trembling legs, Veronica arrived at a rational conclusion and gritted her teeth. She had to think of those still alive and summon every ounce of strength left in her body.

Securing her sword tightly at her waist, she clapped her hands together and blew on them before carefully stepping onto the narrow ledge. Her breath caught, and every muscle tensed.

Moving sideways like a crab, she placed each step cautiously, knocking loose tiny rocks that tumbled down the cliff. The wind blew, ruffling her hair and skirt, forcing her to pause and steady her breathing. She deliberately avoided looking down. Sweat, tinged red by the sunset, dripped into her eyes.

She was just one step away from a small ledge where she could sit and rest when a strand of hair stuck to her lips. The moment she focused and spread her legs wide to leap—

Crack.

“……!”

A menacing sound echoed through the ravine.

Veronica instinctively looked down.

Like a fool.

She had stepped in the wrong direction!

The sound of crumbling rocks came from above. Fragments tumbled down, and as she instinctively reached up to shield her head, she lost her balance.

Her body tilted backward and sank downward.

A scream tore from her lips.

No!

***

Bang!

“The cathedral doors are breaking!”

“What are they doing up there?”

“The creatures crawling from outside have climbed all the way to the roof! The deputy commander is there as well!”

“Damn it! Then at least call up the forces in the underground! Drag out anything we can use as bait!”

The battle that had begun at dawn raged on until dusk. Behind a barricade hastily constructed from chapel pews, the knight commanding the first floor bellowed orders.

But before a lower-ranked knight could respond, an answer came from the massive cathedral doors instead. A monstrous, agonized sound rang out as a sharp crack split through the carved angels at the center of the door.

The knight who had been shouting anxiously fell silent, and all eyes turned toward the gaping fissure. The moment a massive eyeball peered into the chapel, a billowing black cloak swept past the knights’ vision.

The knights, huddled behind the barricade, gawked in astonishment at the man stepping up onto the pews.

“Everyone, go downstairs.”

The man drew his sword and spoke in a detached tone. For a brief moment, everyone seemed frozen in time—until Leon Berg glanced over his shoulder and added, “Or do you want to die like dogs without even putting up a proper fight?”

A myriad of emotions flashed across the face of the commanding knight—joy, relief, courage, and above all, hope.

Leon Berg, whom they had assumed was holding the upper defenses, was here before their eyes. The knight who had single-handedly guarded a section of the fortress wall, who had miraculously survived countless times—the Holy Knight of legend.

“You heard him! We leave the first floor to Sir Berg and retreat to the catacombs!”

He turned and shouted. Fortunately, the knights moved faster than the thick arm forcing its way through the broken door. As the emaciated limb, skin clinging to bone, clawed at the entrance, the knights sprang into action. Just then, Leon called out to a blond knight who was retreating.

“Joachim, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected address, Joachim froze, unable to confirm or deny it. Though Veronica had told him that Leon would remember his name, it was still shocking to hear a senior knight call him directly. Normally, they only remembered him as ‘Kaisenmeer.’

“I need you to do something. Go upstairs and tell the deputy commander to stop being stubborn. Tell him to abandon the surface. If you seal the catacombs properly, surrounded by stone and steel, you can hold out for quite a while. No scent, no sound will escape.”

Just as Leon finished speaking, the door was ripped open completely, and light poured into the dark chapel. Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, Leon’s face was as hollow as a man who had lost everything. Mesmerized, Joachim looked up at him.

Then, Leon added, “Oh, and I almost forgot.”

“……”

“Thanks for looking out for me back then, Sir Kaisenmeer.”

His tone was dry, almost indifferent. Yet, Joachim felt paralyzed, like a beast caught by the scruff of the neck.

If the first-floor commander hadn’t shouted at him, he might have remained there, frozen. Overcome with emotion, Joachim turned and dashed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Leon listened to the fading footsteps, unsheathing his sword without a trace of feeling. The blade in his grip felt oddly unruly today, but he had no energy left to dwell on such trivial matters. He had lost the ability to feel anything at all. Searching every corner of the Grand Cathedral, unwilling to trust Philip, had worn him down to his core.

Veronica was gone.

She had disappeared.

That alone made life feel utterly meaningless. He no longer cared whether he lived or died. He felt nothing.

As a sluggish Bahamut finally lunged, Leon swung his sword without hesitation.

A streak of white light slashed through the cathedral, splitting it in two. The wet, visceral sound of severed flesh and tumbling organs filled the air. A shrill, inhuman wail rang out. The grotesque, unnatural cry—one that shouldn’t exist—failed to stir even the slightest reaction from Leon.

The fact that Bahamut, as they evolved into humans, had begun to develop voices was hardly surprising. He simply continued to cut and cut and cut again.

Within the hypnotic rhythm of battle, his mind wandered to her.

How far had she gone? Had she reached the wilderness? Was she thinking of him?

It would have been easy to flee. His madness had reached its peak—if he survived this, he might abandon his comrades just to chase after her. Like a foolish fledgling searching for its lost mother. No… perhaps it was already too late.

Leon was fully aware that he had lost control. A fire burns brightest just before it dies. He knew he would die here. He knew he would never see her smile again. His heart felt as if it were splitting apart, his blood draining from a wound he couldn’t see. His breath vanished, as if a noose had tightened around his neck.

You must have felt the same. You must have curled up in the darkness, aching, waiting for me to return.

I wanted to die in your arms. I dared to dream of such a thing.