The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 2

Leon walked forward, his left arm cradling an unconscious woman, while his right hand gripped a longsword. He was the only figure moving in the desolate, barren city. His black boots crushed the rubble beneath them, as heat waves shimmered through the air.

The city was dead.

There might be survivors, but everything they had built was gone—homes, families, friends, even the dogs they had raised and the diaries they wrote in every night had all burned, reduced to meaningless ashes.

Leon’s long strides carried him between the shattered spires of the church and the severed remains of Bahamuts. He had come here searching for something but had arrived too late once again. All that was left was a faint hope, finding a human who seemed to have become the “assimilated one” with ‘it.’

“Ha… ugh.”

He glanced down at the woman who was squirming slightly, even in her unconscious state. In truth, it would have been strange if she hadn’t passed out. Her small frame, her fragile neck—they all made her look so breakable. He could easily snap her neck with one hand if he wanted to.

If he left her here, she would surely die—not by being eaten by a monster but by having her heart pierced by a holy knight’s blade

It had been three years since the meteorite fell into the southern sea. And it had been only two years since monsters began crawling out of that sea where the meteorite fell.

People, not knowing what else to call these creatures, had named them after the monsters in the Scriptures—Bahamuts.

Bahamuts are merciless. They devour humans and, in extremely rare cases, create assimilated ones. Those who are assimilated have their minds connected to Bahamut, but they quickly go mad and die.

Naturally, the Church rejected those who had red eyes, the ones who had been assimilated with the Bahamut. If the Holy Knights had found this woman, they would have slit her throat before she even regained consciousness—someone who might be the key to ending this catastrophe.

Leon suspected that this woman was linked to the “first” Bahamut, the one he had been chasing after, abandoning everything else.

“It’s been a while.”

A cold voice interrupted his thoughts, breaking his train of thought like water spilling from a broken glass. Leon, who had been walking steadily through the rubble, came to an abrupt stop.

The wind blew, and his fiery red hair, the color of the flames that had consumed the city, danced in the breeze. He turned his head slowly.

A formation of Holy Knights, clad in white armor, stood rigidly in line. Countless banners adorned with crosses flapped in the wind, and their helmets resembled boxes placed over their heads. Long spears and square shields gleamed in the sunlight.

It was the Holy Knights Order.

Leon’s lips curled into a smirk. “You’re early.”

“It’s only natural. Unlike you, we don’t wander around on our own whims.”

The Holy Knights’ deputy commander, Philipp von Wittelsbach, answered coldly. A city like Bayern warranted the presence of the deputy commander. The terrified Pope would never send the commander.

Hatred flashed in Philipp’s violet eyes. The silver-haired knight was renowned for his strict adherence to the law and his strong character. He could never forgive Leon for leaving the knight order.

Bahamut hunter. The Red Knight of the Apocalypse. There were many names for Leon now, but they were all merely worldly titles.

Every knight in the Holy Knights Order remembered Leon from before, when he was once hailed as God’s messenger. Philipp had respected him, admired him, and followed him.

But now, the man in black armor looked nothing like the promising holy knight he had once been. Standing amidst the ashes, Leon looked so eerie and desolate that he might as well have been the one responsible for destroying the city.

Leon stepped toward him. As he got within a few steps, the knights around Philipp drew their swords with a sharp sound. Leon glanced at the dozen sword tips pointed at him, seeming amused, and finally spoke, “Don’t be so sharp. Thanks to me, you can rest easy.”

“Don’t be so tense. You should be grateful. I made things easier for you.”

“Grateful? To you?” Philip’s brows furrowed instantly. “Do you think I rose to this position because you stepped aside? Don’t flatter yourself. A man who cannot carry his own cross is no opponent of mine.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was talking about this city.”

Leon looked around slowly and added, “Thanks to me, you were able to enter the city without any trouble.”

Philipp raised an eyebrow. As Leon had said, despite being on the outskirts of the city, everything around them was in ruins. Dead Bahamut corpses were scattered across the streets.

Leon had done it all by himself, borrowing God’s power as he pleased. That only fueled Philipp’s anger. He hated Leon’s talents and abilities even more.

“You haven’t changed. That careless, indifferent attitude of yours.”

Finally, Philip’s gaze shifted to the woman in Leon’s arms. He had been curious from the start—who could she be that Leon Berg had personally carried her out?

She was a thin, frail woman, so light that Leon could easily carry her with one arm. The linen dress she wore was worn and tattered, and her short black hair lacked any hint of luxury. However, there was something about her peculiar aura that drew attention.

“And that woman? Who is she?”

“As you can see, she’s an ordinary woman.”

Philip frowned at Leon’s pun-like answer, just as the smile slipped from Leon’s lips for the first time.

“Does it really matter? Whether the poor bastard rolls around with a woman or falls deeper into hell, God won’t say anything now, will He?”

Philip’s thin lips parted in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did Leon mean what he thought he did? Was this former man of God shamelessly admitting his desire for a woman?

Disgust and contempt swept over him.

A holy knight is, at their core, a servant of God. Even though Leon had left the order, he had once been a priest, and now here he was, brazenly expressing such base desires. The thought made Philipp nauseous.

Holy knights were fundamentally servants of God. Even if Leon no longer was one, he had once been a priest. The very idea of him expressing such base desires made Philip feel sick.

“Why are you like this… No, never mind. I don’t know what I was expecting. I’ll let you go this time, but leave the city immediately. I don’t ever want to speak to you again. I can only hope we don’t meet next at the court of the Holy City.”

Leon stared at Philipp’s hardened face for a moment before smirking and turning away.

He found it amusing. They looked at him as if he were a criminal who had committed an unforgivable sin, yet no one made a move to harm him or rescue the woman. Did they not even consider taking her by force?

It wasn’t because they trusted him. They simply saw the world through their own convenient lens.

As Leon walked toward his horse, he stopped suddenly, as if remembering something, and turned his head.

“Oh, Philipp. And about my cross…”

Leon raised the longsword in his right hand. The blade, soaked in blood, left a trail of red as it dripped to the ground.

“I’m still carrying it, both then and now.”

Because of the crossguard on the hilt, the sword looked like an inverted cross.

At first glance, it would seem like blatant blasphemy—holding a sword and presenting an upside-down cross to a holy knight, as if claiming that God resided within the blade.

However, Philip knew. The inverted cross was the cross of an apostle.

Every priest knew the story of the martyred apostle who, deeming himself unworthy of the same punishment as God, begged to be crucified on an upside-down cross.

“What are you pursuing?” Philipp muttered to himself as he watched Leon’s dark figure disappear into the distance.

Black ash scattered behind the white knights.

It was a cold winter.

***

It’s burning. Her eyes were burning, and her mouth was parched.

Veronica thought, her head pounding: I think I understand what it feels like to burn alive.

If the pain was this intense, the heretics who were burned at the stake must have paid for their sins.

Her throat burned painfully, and her heart felt like it was ablaze.

A mysterious fear gripped her like a vice, squeezing her throat. Veronica thrashed in the darkness, constantly moving her fingers, screaming for help.

I’m going to die. Someone, save me. Please, anyone… save me…

“Alright, I get it. Open your eyes.”

A cold voice sliced through the air as her flailing limbs were pinned down.

Someone pressed their body down on top of her, leaning in close.

But who? Everyone was dead. Her father, the old lady next door, even Benjamin.

Veronica slowly lifted her eyelids, feeling confused. Her blurry vision gradually cleared until she focused on the dark red eyes staring down at her.

It was a man. A man she didn’t recognize—no, wait. It was the man who had saved her.

To her surprise, she felt an overwhelming surge of attraction and desire flood her at once.

She had never felt anything like this before. It was as if she had found a piece of her lost soul.

And…

“…I’m so thirsty.”

Her heart ached terribly. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Veronica felt the fire in her veins as her lips moved, trembling.

“Water… please. My throat is burning…”

Despite her desperate plea, the man stared down at her expressionlessly, his cold eyes observing her like a hunter watching a dying animal.

“Water…”

“Water? Is that really what you want?”

The man’s voice was steady, as if he were asking her to reconsider. So, Veronica thought carefully.

Do I really want water?

Yes. My mouth is dry, and my throat burns. What else could this be if not thirst?

Just then, a flash of crimson crossed her mind—like the corpses she had seen on the street before collapsing. The image of dismembered bodies flickered before her eyes like a fleeting summer lightning flash.

An arm stiffened in the air. A hand pointing downward, its slender fingers pale and thin.

It should have disgusted her, but it didn’t. It wasn’t grotesque. In fact…

“Do you want to… eat?”

“Yes… So please, let me go. Let me go, I beg you. Please.”

As Veronica shook her head, thrashing weakly, the man grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

His grip was rough. It hurt. But she didn’t care.

All she could think about was how thirsty she was. How hungry. She wanted to drink a human brain.

She fought to free herself from the man’s hold, desperate to quench her thirst.

She knew she was losing her mind. But it didn’t matter. If she didn’t drink blood soon, she would die.

“Let me go and get lost!”

Veronica screamed at last. It was the first time in her life she had ever shouted like that. The cry that erupted from her deep within was sharp and fierce.

Tears streamed down her face as she glared at the man. He didn’t avert his gaze. Their similarly colored eyes met and intertwined, locking together.

Her heart began to race again, pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. Just like before, right before she fainted, her pulse thudded violently. It felt as though her heart might leap out of her chest with a single cough.

The chaotic flow of the air around them pressed against her skin, its intensity almost palpable. The man smirked, muttering lowly, “You’re something else.”

He hadn’t planned to go this far. Still muttering to himself, the man brushed his hand through her hair and leaned closer. His cool breath brushed her skin.

“Let me go, please. I won’t kill anyone. Just, please, just for a moment…”

Veronica’s sobs ceased, her wide eyes growing even larger.

The small hands that had clutched at his clothes fell limp. All her attention was now focused on her lips.

He twisted her chin and forced her mouth open, his cool tongue slipping inside to greedily swallow the words she had been about to say.

The kiss itself wasn’t what surprised her. It was the strange sensation of her thirst being quenched.

As the kiss went on, the eyes she had opened wide in shock began to slowly close.

Like dipping her feet into a cool stream on a hot summer day, her blurred emotions cleared. With each gust of wind, the leaves around her would catch fire and burn white, then fade back into a peaceful green.

Veronica sank into a strange, indescribable pleasure. As if it were holy water, she extended her tongue, desperately trying to swallow the man’s saliva. He briefly broke the kiss and swore as she clumsily tried to drink more.

“More… Give me more…”

Tears still clung to her lashes as she begged, and the man looked down at her with cold eyes before asking suddenly, “How old are you?”

Her age? Why would he ask that all of a sudden?

Veronica had been born in the winter, and as of yesterday, she had officially come of age. So, now…

“Twenty.”

The man let out a low chuckle, as if finding her response amusing. He seemed to want to say something more but shut his mouth instead and began to pull away.

Don’t go. Please let me feel that coolness again.

In her panic, Veronica reached out, wrapping her arms around him and clumsily imitating his actions by pressing her lips to his. The man gripped her cheek as if to push her away, but when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he groaned and sucked it roughly.

It was night. It was dark, and she didn’t know where they were. But her body was overflowing with a vitality that made her feel as though she had just been born.

Bahamuts are merciless. They devour humans and, in extremely rare cases, create assimilated ones. Those who are assimilated possess formidable power, but their minds become corrupted, causing them to die shortly after.

Veronica survived as the sole survivor because Leon Berg was a knight blessed by God.

His breath and saliva, filled with holy power, had saved her. He had become her god in the absence of the one who had vanished.