The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 59

The Bahamuts that had been attacking the knights suddenly stopped moving.

Philip signaled the retreat, and the knights fell back. The horse carrying Veronica raced across the plain like an arrow—how fitting that expression was

“What in the world… they’re actually following her,” muttered the adjutant beside Philip in shock.

The Bahamuts, which had been positioned regularly around the walls, were all charging toward her.

It was like the image of the pied piper in the stained glass of the church—a folktale come to life.

“What are you standing around for? Grab the oil barrels and follow. There’s no need to wait until the north gate,” Philip said, rubbing his chin coolly. He was the only one who remained calm in the face of such an eerie sight. The Bahamuts would gather on their own, and they would set them ablaze once they were all in one place.

The horse, galloping along, panicked as it spotted the Bahamuts converging from all sides, and began to move erratically. Veronica, who had been clinging to its neck, was thrown off violently. As if waiting for this moment, the Bahamuts reached out their hands towards her, surging forward like worshippers desperate for a blessing at a prayer meeting. The expression “swarming like insects” was perfectly fitting for the scene. Within moments, both the horse and the woman were obscured by the wave of bodies.

“While they are distracted, circle around them with the oil!”

The swiftest knights galloped off, spreading oil in a wide circle across the sunny field. The Bahamuts were the logs, and Veronica was the sacrifice—a masterpiece.

“Ready! Draw and fire!”

Dozens of arrows carrying sparks cut through the sky. When the fire ignited, the horde of monsters looked as if they were a single entity.

Hot. Burning, burning hot.

Save me.

Since falling off the horse, Veronica’s world had gone black. She curled into herself, her consciousness wandering through the flames. Dancing with an injured body, staying up all night, exhausting herself over and over again—this was the price of her recklessness.

Is this how I die? Without finding out where Bahamut came from or what they wanted?

She opened her eyes, full of frustration, and saw tiny points of light in the pitch-black ground. White and yellow spots—no, they were stars. A world of flowing Milky Way and stars.

Veronica was flowing between them, falling. So, this must be beyond the sky, she thought. And as she made that judgment, a blue orb mixed with many colors grew larger and closer. Veronica realized it was the land she lived on—a sphere of sandy desert, green forests, brown earth, and blue sea.

It was beautiful. It was Bahamut’s memory.

What stood out most wasn’t the blue that covered the majority of the orb but the yellow wasteland.

The wilderness, teeming with life. Each life form was unique. Veronica stared at them intently. Long enough to memorize each one, with no sense of time passing.

The red eyes of Bahamut saw whatever they desired. Faces magnified beyond their actual distance, beads of sweat on pores. Even a fetus curled up inside someone’s belly.

What is this feeling?

Astonishment? Delight? Envy, sorrow, anger, resentment?

No, the closest feeling was jealousy.

I am jealous of those who have a “self.” Unique, irreplaceable beings.

Do the beings living on that land even understand how great a blessing it is? To have a self in an endlessly vast and connected world?

I… ‘I’ am…!

“…Open your eyes.”

A voice cut through her thoughts, piercing her ears. The orb she had been watching shattered into darkness. It was the second time he had interrupted her. Just like when she had first assimilated, he had appeared, intruding.

It felt as if he was holding her tightly, preventing her from leaving. The suffocating pressure was not unpleasant.

“Please, open your eyes. Not like this, damn it.”

She felt a hand wipe her cheek. Veronica shed tears—surprisingly not out of fear for herself, but for Bahamut. She felt sorrow, an ache that cut deep into her heart.

“Don’t cry.”

The whole world seemed sorrowful. The voice of the man holding her was soaked in sadness. Though it was a familiar voice, she felt as if she were hearing it for the first time. It had to be a dream. Otherwise, why would he hold her so gently now?

“Leon…”

Veronica called his name, wanting to confirm whether this was a dream. But the effort of moving her lips exhausted her, and her consciousness fell into a bottomless abyss.

***

The knights assigned to the eastern sector of Kart noticed something unusual soon after leaving the gate.

“What, have these things all gone mad?”

Heinz spoke gravely. The Bahamuts were all rushing in one direction like rats that had consumed poison.

Leon observed their movement intently before asking, “Should we follow them?”

“What? Have you forgotten your original orders? Remember, our mission is not to exterminate the Bahamuts but to clean up around the house and return safely.”

Heinz frowned in frustration as he continued, “It could be a trap. Even without a head, they can still be cunning. You wouldn’t know, but the knights who went to Bayern were caught in an ambush.”

“Then I’ll go alone. It’s fine if I’m not acting as a knight but rather as His Majesty’s reinforcement.”

Leon turned his horse before Heinz could protest. Technically, whether he was acting as reinforcement or not, he was still part of the extermination force and should not have acted alone. But his instincts pushed aside such considerations.

“They came for me. I heard it clearly. ‘Found you.’”

Coincidentally, the direction in which the Bahamuts were running was towards the other extermination unit.

Something unusual was definitely happening. The black smoke billowing up to the sky was proof enough. Leon spurred his horse forward, his conviction growing stronger.

When he finally reached the scene, even Leon, who was accustomed to the horrors of battlefields, was at a loss for words. The Bahamuts were throwing themselves into the flames like blind mice. The knights were circling, constantly adding oil and fuel to the fire. Leon rode straight towards Philip.

“What in the world is happening here?”

Philip seemed slightly surprised to see Leon, who was supposed to be on the opposite side, but quickly regained his composure.

“The assimilated one lured the Bahamuts and sacrificed herself.”

Leon froze in place. Philip’s violet eyes flashed with the reflection of the blazing fire.

“Though it’s late to acknowledge it, the assimilated one you brought has proven to have strategic value. It’s fortunate we didn’t hastily kill her.”

Slowly, Leon turned his head to stare at the towering flames. The Bahamut continued to charge into the fire, forcing the knights to keep pouring more oil and fuel.

Leon, watching the scene, drew the sword at his waist. With a sharp sound, Philip instinctively turned to see what was happening, his eyes filled with doubt.

“What are you doing?”

Leon didn’t answer. But the way he turned his horse made his intentions clear.

“Are you insane? Even you won’t survive in there. Not even Sir Mecklenburg could face such numbers.”

“If you know that, make sure no one else interferes. I don’t want anyone else caught up in this.”

Leon spoke in a low voice, the cross-shaped sword in his hand glinting sharply as it reflected the sunlight. The Apocalypse—a sword that could cut through anything, yet when it lost control, would ravenously consume the life force of everything around it.

Philip was right. Mecklenburg wouldn’t survive in a place like that.

He was a knight who knew restraint, who would never wield the sword of God recklessly.

On that tragic day in Tiran, had it been Mecklenburg instead of Leon, he would have sheathed the sword that could explode at any moment and chosen to die on the spot. That was why the hero of the Holy Knights, who returned from Blasen, had never come back.

But Leon was different.

“Sir Berg!!!”

A desperate cry echoed behind him. He ignored it and rode forward. Each time he cut through the massive Bahamut that blocked his path, blood sprayed, filling the air with the metallic tang of rusted iron. His black horse leaped fearlessly over the flames.

Oh God, save this woman. Not yet, not now.

Leon sliced through the flames and jumped off the struggling horse. The heat beneath his melting armor burned his skin, but he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t die, he’d heal.

But she wouldn’t. She…

Leon regretted becoming a knight of God for the first time.

If he were an ordinary human, he would offer everything here, pleading to see her just once more.

But he didn’t even have that right. He had already given everything to God—he had nothing left to offer, nothing to promise.

Ah, what a sin it is to regret when one loves something more than God.

“Comedite me. (Devour me.)”

He raised the holy sword high, murmuring. The holy sword was one that devoured life force. It would swallow as much as needed, as long as it could open a path.

As a child, he had heard that the inferno in the depths of hell was a fire that burned eternally—a pit where the soul would be tormented forever.