Chapter 68: Seven Wings (1)

Carl dashed through the forest, deliberately letting his presence leak out.

Cutting down the scattered monsters in a single stroke as he went.

“……”

Yet the other side did not stir in the slightest.

After circling the outer edge of the forest and cutting down more than twenty monsters, Carl confirmed that the opponent had no intention of moving first.

‘Are they waiting for me?’

When he had slain nearly every monster he could sense, he gave his sword a light swing to shake off the blood.

He did not bother hiding his traces.

Chiieeek!

The flames of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art burned away every trace in the vicinity.

“Overflowing with confidence, I see.”

Was this a trap they had laid?

Or was it born of sheer confidence that they could defeat anyone who came?

Either way, it didn’t matter.

Carl turned his body, took a single step, and in an instant crossed the space—accepting the invitation without hesitation.

Thud.

He stopped in a clearing where the yellowed grass lay dead.

A surge of malevolent energy strong enough to make his skin prickle swept through the air.

Feeling the brittle crunch beneath his toes, Carl narrowed his eyes.

“You have arrived.”

The tone was archaic, the voice deep.

Carl’s gaze turned toward a man seated on a rock at the edge of the clearing.

He wore armor that was nearly rotted away, a long sword cradled in his arms.

Carl cautiously gauged the man’s aura as he stepped closer.

“Are the slabs of meat wandering the forest your doing?”

“I have no such ghastly hobby. In my younger days, I would have cut them down without a second thought.”

“Then whose doing is it?”

“That, I do not know.”

The man answered glibly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I only just opened my eyes myself.”

“…Opened your eyes?”

“Yes. The one you’re looking for, you called him the Puppeteer, I believe. He has already left, saying his duty was fulfilled.”

“……”

Carl mulled over the man’s words.

‘Puppeteer, duty.’

At the very least, the strange phenomenon unfolding in the Erendal Forest was clearly orchestrated—by someone, or more likely, by some faction.

The reason was unknown.

Perhaps it was to throw the Empire into chaos. Perhaps the target lay within the Academy or the Knights.

With such a commotion, quietly covering their tracks afterward would not be difficult.

‘They’re starting to crawl out one by one.’

How many in this vast continent harbored ambition?

Even in the Central Plains, aside from the Killing Veil, there had been countless other assassin organizations.

Each with different reasons and goals, working in secret beneath the surface.

And of them all, the foremost could only be himself.

“So, what is it you intend to do?”

“I’m not sure. When I came to my senses, I was like this.”

The man slowly raised his head.

“Until then, I wandered the forest aimlessly. I don’t even know how much time has passed.”

Decades? No, perhaps centuries.

Bound to something unseen, he had roamed the inner forest with a rusted sword in hand and tattered armor on his back.

“I had awareness, but no reason. I moved only on instinct. Now that I have a new body, it feels good.”

The man let out a hearty laugh.

Watching him, Carl finally grasped the man’s identity.

‘This aura…’

It was the ominous presence he had felt deep inside the forest from the very first day.

Was this the Master of the Forest Guibl had spoken of?

Whatever method had been used, the magical beast that once roamed the woods had been resurrected into this form.

‘You could call him a living jiangshi.’

In the Demonic Cult and the Blood Sect, there was a weapon known as a jiangshi—

A corpse modified so its skin was impenetrable to blades, infused with a soul, turning it into a monster that craved blood and flesh.

This man before him was a similar concept.

“For now, yes. I wish to wield my sword. That is why I waited for you.”

“If that’s the case, I could introduce you to a more suitable opp—”

Without warning, a sharp slash came flying toward him.

Carl instantly raised his sword to block.

Boom─

A heavy impact rang out.

The black robe’s hem fluttered in the shockwave.

Carl, in contrast, did not waver in the slightest.

Seeing his sudden strike so effortlessly stopped, the man grinned broadly.

“There’s no need. I already have such a fine opponent before me.”

“I have no reason to fight you.”

Carl’s eyes turned cold.

In truth, he wanted nothing more than to push off the ground right now and give chase to the Puppeteer, who had supposedly left.

But if he did and this man pursued and attacked him, that would be troublesome.

“I don’t know why, but I do know there are quite a few people in this forest.”

“……”

“If you refuse to fight and choose to leave, I won’t chase you. A courtesy to the strong. But in return, I will take it out on the others—cutting down everyone I meet in this forest until my knees give way.”

“…A simple-minded threat.”

Carl let out a small laugh.

Of course, it was just as effective.

If he let this man run loose, the Bayern cadets would all be dead in the blink of an eye.

The most dangerous being in the Erendal Forest might very well be this man.

“There are those you hold dear in this forest, are there not? That’s why you stand there, unable to recklessly leave before me.”

“Those I hold dear…”

Carl touched the edge of his mask with a bitter smile.

Such a thing had been unthinkable back when he was the Unkillable.

At that time, everything around him had only been tools to be used.

But now, it was different.

‘I can’t deny that.’

The moment the man spoke, familiar faces flickered through Carl’s mind.

Though his initial approach had been part of his plan to work in the shadows of this world, somewhere along the way, it seemed he had grown attached.

So Carl admitted it without resistance and steeled his resolve.

“I believe strength is not decided simply by how far one has advanced in martial power. What matters is the strength of the person himself. Especially if there is someone behind him worth protecting—then there is nothing more to be said.”

“You’re quite good at spouting sentimental nonsense.”

“At least, in the time I lived, it was so. There were moments full of romance.”

“Still clinging to the past?”

“My time stopped back then.”

Clatter.

The man stood, gripping his sword.

The worn, decaying armor crumbled away and fell to the ground.

Now unburdened, he grinned and fastened his sword to his waist.

“What do you think? Could you make my halted time move again?”

Kwoooom─!

Before he had even finished speaking, pitch-black lightning crashed down from the sky.

Watching the flames of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art burn away the surroundings, Carl smirked.

“I’ll shatter the clock itself, so you’ll never crawl out again.”

“…Hm.”

The man smiled.

The half-broken helmet on his head fell away in the aftermath, revealing his face.

Snow-white hair, a weathered visage, striking turquoise eyes, and a scar running across his brow.

Though he looked to be at least in his fifties, the aura he gave off surged like the waves of youth.

Shrrk.

Slowly drawing his sword, the man spoke.

“I am Matthias, First Seat of the Seven Wings of the Leston Kingdom. And you?”

“Nox.”

“A night that arrives with the darkness.”

Matthias gave a hearty laugh as he glanced around.

The once-violet sky had darkened completely to black.

Twilight had fallen upon the forest, stretching the shadows of trees and grass alike.

Saaaah─.

Carl honed the edge of his sword.

The man before him, Matthias, was among the strongest swordsmen he had ever faced.

‘Not even comparable to Shin-Jen.’

Just standing before him made Carl’s skin prickle—and not solely because of the malice radiating from him.

‘Hooh.’

Matthias, too, was slightly surprised at Carl’s aura.

The pitch-black energy flooding from Carl’s entire body was something he had never seen in life nor in death.

“You’re no demon race. At a glance, it’s similar to demonic energy, but far cleaner.”

“You speak out of turn.”

“Forgive me. It’s been so long since I fought, I’m a little excited. So I hope you last as long as possible—at least until the others can escape the forest.”

It was an arrogant declaration.

Just as Carl was about to smirk and reply, Matthias closed the distance.

Zzeok─!

By the time Carl registered it, the strike was already nearly upon him.

He raised his sword again to block, but unlike before, the clash of force pushed him a step back.

…Thud!

Behind him, thick trees were sliced clean through and toppled to the ground.

Carl narrowed his eyes and slowly lowered his sword.

That strike had aimed straight for his face.

He twisted his lips at the blatant intent.

“What a pity. I was hoping to see what was so impressive you hid it behind a mask.”

“With that skill?”

“…Haha, amusing.”

At Carl’s taunt, Matthias bent slightly forward.

He sheathed the sword he had just swung and focused his aura sharply.

‘Iaijutsu?’

A sword art also found in the Central Plains.

Normally, drawing and cutting in one motion was far faster than swinging from an already drawn position.

Thus, in the Central Plains, practitioners of iaijutsu were often mocked as being vain—but if the art’s principles were mastered and backed by sufficient internal energy, it was another matter entirely.

Zzeok─!

A slash so sharp it seemed to cleave space itself.

Carl, who had been about to step forward, raised his sword again to block the fresh attack.

‘The slash reaches me almost the instant I recognize the sword has moved.’

Normally, sword qi or aura techniques lost power with distance.

But Matthias’s strikes showed no such sign.

…Or perhaps this reduced power was already this strong.

Shiak!

When Matthias’s sword once more tore through the air, Carl kicked off the ground without looking back.

Using Dark Flow Footwork, he melded into the shadows, scattering multiple traces to confuse Matthias’s senses.

“An assassin, are you?”

“Is that what you think?”

A question for a question.

Even with Carl’s voice behind him, Matthias didn’t turn.

Trusting his senses, he thrust his sword forward.

Puck!

But that, too, was a feint.

The collapsing shadow dissolved into black smoke.

Matthias cleaved it apart instantly, but then felt a sharp presence closing from behind.

“No chance, not with such petty tricks.”

He smirked and swung the scabbard in his other hand with full force.

Thud─!

Sword and scabbard clashed.

His scabbard was as hard as a blade, easily blocking the strike.

In a normal fight, it might even have damaged the opponent’s sword.

But Carl twisted his lips.

“That was my aim from the start.”

“…!”

The domineering energy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art surged to his sword tip and struck the scabbard.

The scabbard was hollow to hold the blade—an environment that inevitably created resonance when struck.

Amplifying that with the Heavenly Demon Divine Art’s shockwave was not difficult.

Crack.

A fissure ran along the scabbard’s surface.

Matthias pulled back in alarm, but in an instant the weakened scabbard shattered to pieces.

Whoosh.

Lightly flicking his sword to deflect the flying fragments, Carl shrugged.

“Now you can’t use iaijutsu.”

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