Chapter 72: In Search of the Demon Sword (4)

The thick stench of blood stung my nose. At the center of the wide chamber, crimson mist hung heavy in the air and a bloodstained sword lay embedded in the ground, bound by thick chains.

I smirked at the sight of the sword. “It’s been a while.”

The first time I came here, I had been so overwhelmed by the sheer pressure emanating from that cursed sword, my knees had almost given out. But now, with memories of my past life to anchor me, I strolled up to it with ease.

“How have you been?”

As if responding to my familiar tone, the sword trembled, almost like it was glad to see me again. No, not almost. It really was responding—begging, pleading, and screaming to be released from this place.

During the Demon God War five hundred years ago, a monstrous demon—the Archbishop of Blood, Veskal—had claimed the lives of countless humans. However, he had ultimately been defeated, his soul sealed within this sword. That was what gave birth to the cursed weapon known as Demon Sword Veskal.

I stepped toward the chains binding the sword. “Alright, alright!”

The sword trembled even more violently.

“What’s the matter? You want me to set you free?”

I couldn’t see his face, nor could I hear his voice. But somehow, I could imagine Veskal, trapped inside the sword, begging, groveling in desperation.

“Alright then. I’ll let you out.”

Maybe he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. The sword’s trembling grew hesitant, like it was now unsure.

“Don’t chicken out now. I said I will do it.”

I drew the sword at my waist, channeling mana into the blade. A gray aura ignited along the edge, flickering faintly like heat shimmer, nowhere near the intensity of the Incarnation state or when I used Ignition. But this was enough for now.

I swung my sword at the chains wrapped around the Demon Sword, using the Sun Sword Style Third Form: Light Severance. A horizontal slash collided with the chains and easily cut through the enchanted steel that had sealed the sword for five hundred years, with a clean, almost disappointing ease.

Then the entire chamber trembled violently, like an earthquake had struck. Laughter, mad, unhinged, echoed in my mind.

“Heh!

Hehahahahahahahaha!”

It was not the calm baritone I had heard at the door earlier. This was something sharper, like metal scraping across iron, a voice that grated on the nerves.

It continued, “Finally! Finally, I’m free of this wretched seal!”

A wave of horrifying pressure surged through the chamber. Even though he was trapped in a sword without even a physical body, Veskal’s sheer presence made it feel like he could tear the world apart at any moment.

“Hey, calm down. I get you’re excited and all, but the cave’s going to collapse if you keep this up,” I said calmly.

“You…” The bloodstained sword rose into the air. “Heh! Thank you, human. Thanks to you, I’m finally free.”

The crimson mist that had filled the chamber swirled around the floating sword. It coalesced like slime, gradually forming a humanoid shape, a figure entirely composed of blood. Amid the nauseating stench of blood, a single yellow eye appeared on the blood figure’s face, locked onto me.

This time, the voice came not from inside my head, but aloud. It was a warped, guttural tone thick with bloodlust and vile desire, saying, “In return, I shall give you the honor… of becoming my new vessel.”

I let out a long sigh and stared at the blood-formed Veskal. “That’s so cliche it hurts. You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

A flicker of confusion flashed in his eye. “What? You said ‘changed’… Wait, do you know Reynald?”

“Huh?”

Bloodlust boiling from him in waves, Veskal roared, “Kuhuhu! Of course! That explains it! I thought I sensed a trace of that cursed bastard’s energy in my domain. You’re one of his lackeys!”

Had he sensed the presence of Yuren, who was sleeping soundly in his tent back at camp?

“That’s not what I meant,” I said.

I gave a wry smile and tightened my grip on my sword. By “changed,” I was referring to my previous life, not something about Yuren.

A memory flashed past my mind. A mercenary band I was part of had finally uncovered this secret chamber after nearly a month of searching the ruins and lifted the sword’s seal. However, the result was total annihilation. Vestal had slaughtered and consumed every member of the group, save for me. I had been so scared I had wet myself.

Shoving that humiliating memory aside, I focused on the sight before me. This was the nightmare I couldn’t even face in my previous life. But this time, it would be different.

Alright. Let’s see how much things have changed, I thought.

Ashen aura ignited, roaring to life along my sword. I gripped the hilt tighter and launched myself forward. With a thunderous shockwave, the world around me blurred, pulled into streaks. In the blink of an eye, I was in front of Veskal, sword slashing down. My gray aura clashed with his crimson-red energy, and the ferocious blast of power shook the entire chamber.

Steel clashed in a flurry too fast for the eye to follow. It was an explosive exchange of blows, pressure, and raw strength, and in that clash between crimson and gray, it was crimson that faltered first.

A low grunt escaped Veskal’s lips. His body, formed of blood, rippled violently, like the surface of a pond struck by a stone, unable to withstand the shock.

Staggering back a few steps, he said, “I see. You do have the skill to back up that arrogance!”

He then growled and stomped. Tendrils of blood lashed out from his body like monstrous tentacles. Each tendril twisted and sharpened into needle-like fangs, gleaming wet and red in the crimson haze. Dozens of blood-fangs shot at me from all directions. But instead of dodging, I hurled myself straight into them. Focusing mana into the soles of my feet, I stomped with all my might.

“Berald Combat Style: Tremor Step!”

The ground exploded beneath me, and earthen walls burst up like geysers of rock. The flying blood-fangs collided into the stone and ricocheted away harmlessly.

Vestal was shocked. “What the—”

Before his cry of surprise had even fully left his mouth, my fist, charged with mana, slammed into his stomach. The blow detonated like a cannonball, and Veskal’s liquid body exploded, blood spraying in all directions.

But it didn’t last long. With a sickening squelch, the gaping hole in his abdomen rapidly began to regenerate. Groaning, he arrogantly said, “An attack like that can’t possibly harm me.”

“Oh, really?”

Well then, guess there’s only one thing to do,I thought.

I looked at him and said, “Guess I’ll just keep hitting you until it does work. Berald Combat Style: Sky Breaker!”

Veskal’s form exploded again, but I didn’t stop. I drove punch after punch into his regenerating body.

BAM! THUD! CRAAASH!

His body couldn’t keep up. No matter how fast he tried to regenerate, he was shrinking, bit by bit.

“Y-you little bastard!” he shouted.

The blood rippled violently as his liquified body spread out across the floor. His sword floated into the air, gleaming with murderous intent. The Demon Sword, wrapped in tendrils of blood, shot toward me like a missile. “Die!”

I didn’t flinch. I raised my sword and pointed it at the oncoming weapon. “Ignite.”

What came next was a burning hiss, like flesh searing under flame. Gray smoke billowed from every pore of my body. The flames around my sword blazed to life. The Sun Sword Style Seventh Form: Radiant Ring showed its power, and a ring of fire formed around my blade, spinning faster and faster, absorbing mana and amplifying itself into a vortex of flame.

Then, the entire chamber quaked. The Demon Sword collided with the ring of fire, only to be flung away and embedded into the stone floor, completely overwhelmed.

Even though his blood-formed body had completely vanished, Veskal’s voice echoed inside my head. “T-this can’t be…! How… How could this happen?”

Even sealed within the sword and unable to access his full power, he was still Veskal, the Archbishop of Blood, one of the pillars of the Demon God’s army. Not even Reynald, the man who sealed him in this sword, had crushed him this thoroughly. And now, a boy barely into his twenties had annihilated him?

The Demon Sword trembled, Veskal’s panic pouring from its core. “W-who are you?”

I said nothing and simply walked toward the sword. The air was thick with gray smoke, and flames licked the edges of my sword. Through the fading ash, my eerie green eyes glowed.

Veskal, once a dreaded Archbishop, now screeched in abject terror. “S-stay back!”

He twisted in desperation, trying to escape me, but his soul was still trapped within the sword. The Demon Sword, embedded in the floor, shivered violently.

“I said STAY BACK!!!”

I ignored his pitiful screams and gripped the hilt of the sword. “God, you’re as damn noisy now as you were back then.”

Then, I poured the Primordial Flame into the sword.

A death cry rang out in my head. “KRAAAAAAGH! S-STOP—”

The Primordial Flame devoured Veskal’s consciousness from within, burning his soul to ash.

Five minutes passed, and the smoke rising from my body slowly faded, the flames around the sword flickering out. Then, there was total silence, no more voice, no more presence. Veskal’s consciousness had been completely erased.

I lifted the sword, still glistening with its faint red sheen, and a quiet laugh escaped me. In my past life, I had nearly gone insane trying to erase Veskal’s soul from this cursed weapon. I had genuinely thought he would take over my body.

But the Blessing of Resurrection didn’t just heal the body; it even healed the mind. When Veskal had attempted to hijack my consciousness through domination magic, the blessing had restored me, even my soul. I had used that to my advantage. After nearly a full year of mental warfare, I had managed to purge Veskal’s soul from the sword.

This time? It had taken me all of five minutes. The difference between my past self and who I was now couldn’t be clearer.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this easy,” I muttered to myself.

Even if Veskal was sealed and couldn’t access his full power, this level of overwhelming victory was far beyond what I had imagined. I glanced down at my body, faint streams of ash still rising from my skin, and furrowed my brow.

“Just how strong have I become?”

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