The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 108

Boom!

The ceaselessly moving arm halted when the ground shook violently. Leon wiped the blood from his sword and looked down at the barricade he stood upon. Then, he turned his gaze to the ceiling, dust falling as cracks spread.

Something was happening. Just as he grasped the situation, an angry voice rang out behind him.

“If you don’t want to die a dog’s death, get down from there! You must be out of your mind throwing away your life like this. Just because you left the Order doesn’t mean you can act without consulting your brothers!”

Leon turned to see Philip and several senior knights standing behind him. His eyes narrowed as he took them in.

“What are you still doing here?”

Philip didn’t answer. Instead, he gestured to the knights. Those holding large jars in both hands hurled them over the pews at the Bahamut. The vessels shattered, spilling a thick black liquid. The moment Leon realized what it was and leapt down, archers descending the stairs pulled their bowstrings taut.

It was a liquid explosive.

Boom!

A massive explosion shook the ground and sent black smoke billowing.

Leon now understood the tremors from above. The deputy commander of the Holy Knights, the devout legalist Philip von Wittelsbach, intended to bring down the sacred sanctuary itself. A dry, almost deranged laugh burst from Leon’s lips. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he smirked through the chaos.

“Wittelsbach, next time, be more thorough. I nearly died just now.”

It was so loud that his words likely went unheard. But Philip seemed to catch his name clearly enough.

“So, you’ve finally stopped calling yourself deputy commander.”

“That’s your fault. No matter how hard I tried, what was the point if you wouldn’t even acknowledge me?”

Philip let out a faint smirk. The conversation was brief.

Knights who had been staring at the ceiling, now riddled with cracks, immediately turned and bolted for the stairs. Thanks to Philip’s efforts from the rooftop, the ceiling was collapsing layer by layer from above. Columns split vertically, and deafening explosions followed. The grand organ groaned, producing a twisted melody of tragedy.

Leon persistently cut down the Bahamut chasing after them. One had followed him even as debris fell. While the knights who had retreated underground anxiously held the stone door open, Leon halted midway down the stairs.

“Sir Berg!”

He had to finish this. If he didn’t, it would only cause trouble later.

“Damn it! At this rate, they’ll reach us! Why aren’t you closing the door?!”

“Just wait a little longer! Someone hasn’t come in yet!”

Shouts from his comrades echoed behind him, but Leon shut them out, focusing entirely on his enemy. The Bahamut lunging at him reached out its claws just as—

Apocalypse flashed twice in an instant.

The creature’s arms and head flew apart. With a tremendous crash, the surroundings were completely buried in rubble.

***

No!

Veronica fell as if she were in a dream where she was growing taller. Her scream was swallowed by the wind.

Her body lifted weightlessly into the air as terror struck her with full force. She was going to die. She was falling. After all the determination that had brought her here, she refused to end it like this!

“Aah!”

A powerful tug halted her descent, leaving her dangling. As the valley wind howled around her, she opened her eyes.

Her tattered dress had caught on a tree rooted in the cliffside, holding her up. Lying awkwardly, she turned her head and saw the sheer drop beneath her. The sight sent her into a panic.

Rip. The sound of tearing fabric roared in her ears. Just before the dress completely gave way, she instinctively reached out and grabbed onto a branch.

She had thought she was exhausted from walking, but now that death was so close, an unknown strength surged through her. With desperate effort, she climbed upward.

Miraculously, at the top of the tree was a large cave opening. Gasping for breath, Veronica finally pulled herself inside, her legs barely making it over the edge.

Sprawled out, she heaved deep breaths.

“Hah… hah… I almost died.”

Muttering to herself, she suddenly found the situation absurd.

She had come here to die, yet now she was relieved at having survived. Veronica lay there, too drained to even think anymore.

She turned her head and silently watched as the pink sky deepened into twilight.

What is Leon doing now? Has he replenished supplies and eaten something better than oat porridge? Or is he cursing her for leaving without eating at all?

Her sweat cooled and chilled her skin. Slowly, Veronica sat up.

It would be dark soon. She might have to spend the night here.

Removing her tattered dress, she was left in her chemise. She detached Hennessis from her sword belt, curious to see which direction it would indicate.

To her surprise, the blade, which had been guiding her upwards all this time, now pointed straight into the depths of the cave.

Eyes wide, Veronica turned to face the dark, beast-like maw of the cavern.

It was complete darkness. Only the faint sound of the wind humming could be heard. The ominous sensation that she might never return if she entered made her shudder. A sudden gust of wind from behind lifted her hair. Hennessis remained motionless, still pointing in the same direction.

“Well, if negotiation had been an option, it would have firmly rejected me back at the cliff.”

With a deep sigh, she turned her body as if making up her mind. The valley air was cold. Veronica shivered once before picking up her sword and beginning to walk. Like a blind person, she tapped the ground ahead with her blade as she moved inward.

How much time had passed?

As she walked, she realized the cave was quite large. Her footsteps echoed far and distant. The further she walked, the more she lost track of time. Only the occasional beams of moonlight filtering through the ceiling whispered that it was still night.

“This is strange…”

Veronica, who had been moving as if in a trance, stopped in her tracks when she reached an area where the round moonlight spilled down.

It was absurd, but she had a strange sense of déjà vu, as if she had been here before. As if she had seen this exact scene not long ago. More precisely… as if a sword should be standing there.

When she set Hennessis down within the circular shadow of light, several fragmented images flashed through her mind.

A Bahamut lying before her, mimicking her actions, a holy sword catching her gaze, and the memory of grasping it.

The moment goosebumps rose all over her body, a splash echoed nearby. Veronica flinched and swiftly picked up her sword again.

Her heart pounded violently. The realization struck her like a splash of cold water.

This was it. This was the cave where the ‘First’ resided.

Reality crashed down on her like a blow to the back of the head. The falling rocks at the cliff, the miraculous tree branch that caught her—perhaps none of it was mere luck.

Her body trembled uncontrollably, and her mind sharpened. Holding her breath, Veronica moved toward the source of the water sound.

In the wide, deep blue lake, something shaped like a human was swimming.

It was not a Bahamut. It was clearly a person.

What…?

Had they been captured? But even so, why would they be swimming here?

“Excuse me. What are you doing there?”

Even after waiting for a long time, there was no response, so she cautiously called out. The person at the center of the lake turned to look at her—then disappeared into the water.

At first, she simply waited.

But as the moments stretched and they did not resurface, unease crept in.

Hurrying to the water’s edge, she found the lake was an ominous shade of black-blue. She couldn’t gauge its depth. Cautiously, she dipped her foot in.

Just then, splash! A head burst out of the water right in front of her. Veronica screamed.

“……”

She froze completely.

To ‘freeze’ meant to be so overwhelmed with horror that even breathing was impossible. That was precisely what happened when she saw the figure now standing before her.

‘It’ was undeniably human. And undeniably a woman.

It had to be.

“…That’s… impossible.”

The face that smiled with its mouth open was Veronica’s own.

“No way.”

The standing woman suddenly grabbed her leg and yanked her into the lake. Splash! Veronica plunged into the deep blue water, struggling, but the grip pulling her was too strong. The deeper she sank, the harder it became to hold her breath. She flailed with all her might, but ‘it’ surfaced above her and began choking her, pressing down.

As they tangled together, sinking toward the lakebed, bubbles erupted from her nose and mouth. And then, as if pain had become a catalyst, a long-lost memory from a week ago flashed through her mind.

Back then, Veronica had woken up in complete darkness.

The holy sword stood in a corner, exuding an overwhelming allure. Looking back now, she realized why—the sword was searching for a new master after it had lost Mecklenburg.

She had reached for the sword, and in that instant, a sharp pain pierced her neck.

The Bahamut mimicking her had grabbed her neck from behind. It was an insidious act—one that instilled intense terror yet did not kill.

Veronica thrashed wildly, kicking and twisting her body. She could not comprehend ‘its’ intentions. If it wanted to kill her, why hesitate? Instead, ‘it’ dragged her to the brink of death, only to let her go, repeating the cycle over and over again. Then, as the single beam of moonlight illuminating the cave disappeared, plunging them into pitch-black darkness, a whisper filled her ears.

‘God, God, God,’ like the eerie wail of a whale.

That was when the pieces clicked into place in her mind. The obscured light, the engulfing darkness, the threat closing in on her shell.

It was exactly like the conditions of the wilderness twenty years ago.

The eclipse covering the sun, the fleeting darkness, God’s judgment that the statue was unsafe.

The Bahamut was trying to extract ‘God’ from her body.

By recreating the same conditions. By fabricating a false eclipse.

In this cave, there were only the two of them. If God abandoned her weakened shell, there was only one place left for it to go.

‘God has two eyes, and one will always turn to the weaker and more wretched.’

Human or Bahamut.

Why, back then, had God deemed the strangling Bahamut more pitiable than the suffocating Veronica?