Chapter 96

Chapter 96: Chapter 96

Sometimes, when people acted recklessly, they felt certain they would not be hurt.

There was no explaining why. They simply felt as though everything would be fine.

They had no way of knowing whether traps still lay ahead or whether they had already passed through the entire trapped section. They might die, yet somehow it did not seem to matter.

The feeling resembled exhilaration.

The thirty-odd adventurers felt as though they had become one. Their emotions had risen so high that they would have no regrets even if they died now.

How could mere darkness dare threaten them?

Come out, demons. We’ll stab you to death.

Several adventurers ran with torches in hand. The chaotic thunder of more than thirty people sprinting across the stone floor echoed through the corridor.

A large door appeared ahead of Rickart, who was leading the charge.

He did not slow down. Instead, he accelerated and slammed his shoulder into it.

Bang!

Flash!

The massive door flew open, and brilliant sunlight poured inside.

Rickart squeezed his eyes shut. He lost his balance, staggered for a moment, and finally fell.

He felt soil beneath him.

Rickart sprang to his feet, raised a hand to his forehead, and gradually opened his squinting eyes.

His first impression was that he had entered some kind of garden.

It was an architectural style featuring an open-air courtyard within the building. He had heard that the Salaman people constructed buildings this way, though it did not seem that the Order had deliberately imitated them.

Those arriving behind him also squinted for a moment before their eyes gradually adjusted to the sunlight.

Looking around, they saw that the space was square, with an open roof revealing the sky and rows of columns lining its four sides.

Beyond the columns were doors leading in each of the cardinal directions. The doorway from which Rickart had just emerged was on the eastern side.

"Where are we?"

"Instead of asking where we are, I’m wondering what this place even is."

Marie , who had arrived second, spoke while looking around.

Something resembling an oak tree stood in the center, surrounded by various plants.

It was autumn, and the leaves were turning yellow and red. A thin layer of fallen leaves already covered the ground.

Most curious of all was a small fountain. Its water looked exceptionally clear.

"Can we drink this?"

With their escape route blocked, many of them had failed to bring food or water.

Rickart was no exception.

"I’ll try it."

One of the adventurers courageously stepped forward.

Before anyone could stop him, he leaned over the fountain and gulped down the water, apparently parched.

Everyone stared at him.

Outwardly, he appeared perfectly fine. Still, there was no telling whether it might make him sick later.

"We shouldn’t drink it unless we have to."

"It seems fine to me. I’m drinking."

"Me too."

Despite Rickart’s advice, those who wanted the water drank it anyway.

"This is the Garden of Contemplation. The fountain draws groundwater, so poisoning it would be pointless. It should be safe to drink."

Ice spoke.

Apparently, he had visited this place during his time in the Order.

The moment he finished speaking, everyone—including Rickart—rushed to the fountain and drank voraciously.

They drank until their stomachs felt slightly full.

What were they going to do when they needed to urinate later?

Volka wiped his mouth and asked, "Which way should we go from here?"

"The training rooms and living quarters are to the south. The punishment chambers are to the north. The western path probably leads to the temple where the Holy Sword is kept."

"What do you think we should do?"

Volka asked Rickart, whose judgment in actual combat was second to none.

Rickart silently considered their options before answering.

"I think heading south would be safer. We may be able to join the force advancing from the south, and Ice should know the layout there."

"I thought you wanted to finish this."

"I only said that because we were in a hurry and needed to raise everyone’s spirits. We need to respond flexibly when the situation changes."

"Is that so? But... I really do want to see this through. Does anyone disagree?"

The adventurers, who were drinking and catching their breath throughout the garden, raised no objections.

They apparently wanted to sustain their current exhilaration.

But once they had breathing room, they needed to make careful, dispassionate decisions. Rickart wanted to regulate their momentum rather than letting it carry them away.

"Marie , give me some agarwood."

"All right. Just a moment."

Marie took a small pouch from inside her clothing and placed an appropriate amount of agarwood into a small tube with a groove carved into one end.

Fortunately, some of the adventurers had brought torches. She lit the agarwood and held the tube beneath Rickart’s nose.

By now, he was accustomed to deeply inhaling the smoke.

It was not long before the throbbing pain in his lungs subsided.

Daisy stood watching him silently.

She followed us even here?

Rickart found her persistence almost frightening.

Or perhaps she was simply that desperate.

But now was the time to focus on their situation.

"Lay the wounded down first and use potions if we have any. Then check your equipment. Is anyone missing a weapon?"

The wounded were those who had been struck by arrows earlier, and there were only a few of them.

Several adventurers without weapons raised their hands. Some weapons had broken or been dropped during their impetuous charge.

Remarkably, not a single person had died.

"Let’s do this. I’ll enter first. Once I’ve cleared the way and confirmed that it’s safe, the next person will follow. If a trap or unexpected ambush kills me, watch what happens and determine how I died. Then Boribori will clear the next section, followed by Ice and then Marie . We’ll proceed like that. If we do, we should be able to reach the end."

Rickart casually declared that he would lead the way, even accounting for the possibility of his own death.

Silence descended.

Then everyone began speaking at once.

"I’ll go with you."

"If Ricky dies, who’ll give us orders?"

"Wouldn’t it be better to move in pairs at the very least?"

"After coming this far together, why should we split up now?"

Apparently, none of them wanted Rickart to expose himself to the danger alone.

He appreciated the sentiment, but he had not volunteered without reason. His eyesight and instincts were better than anyone else’s.

Still, he could not help smiling.

"Then Marie , Bori, Ice, and I will advance together, with some distance between us."

The others still did not look happy, but constantly objecting to their leader was not good either.

It should be acceptable as long as the four maintained sufficient distance. That would minimize the potential casualties while allowing them to help one another if something went wrong.

"You can’t go, Ricky..."

Daisy spoke.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

Their expressions clearly said, Who the hell is she, and why did she follow us all the way here just to cause trouble?

They disliked her because she had come from the Order, but Ice had as well. The adventurers therefore limited themselves to hostile looks and did not confront her aloud.

But Daisy had no one in the world except Rickart.

Her parents were dead. She did not know what would become of the Order, and she had nowhere else to go.

Marie did not look at Daisy, but her expression was subtly complicated.

She sympathized with Daisy because of their similar circumstances, yet she also disliked her.

Sometimes, incompatible emotions coexisted within the human heart.

After finishing the medicinal smoke, Rickart looked up at Daisy from where he sat.

"Why do you keep trying to force me to run away?"

"God will be resurrected. When that happens, everyone will die. How could I simply let you die, Ricky?"

"Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I do what you want. Suppose we successfully escape and live peacefully somewhere secluded. Then that person wouldn’t be me. The Ricky you want so badly wouldn’t exist anymore. Do you understand what I mean?"

Daisy could not understand.

To her, prophecy was absolute—something that would inevitably come to pass.

How could she possibly understand someone knowingly walking toward certain death?

Daisy’s heart ached so badly that tears welled in her eyes. She tried desperately to suppress them, but her feelings were obvious.

"...Then I’ll come with you..."

"Hey, that’s—"

"Wait, Ricky."

Surprisingly, Marie intervened.

Like Rickart, she stood firm against the strong but softened toward the weak. She understood Daisy’s feelings in particular and could not bring herself to treat her cruelly.

"You can come with us. I don’t know whether you’ll accept this, but I understand how you feel. Just remember one thing: we can’t guarantee your safety."

That was as far as Marie could go.

It was the absolute limit of the kindness she could offer.

Perhaps Daisy felt humiliated to receive consideration from her romantic rival. Perhaps she pitied her own circumstances. Or perhaps she was still worried only about Rickart.

Whatever the reason, she lowered her head and silently shed tears.

Rickart did not feel comfortable either, so he deliberately turned away and rose to his feet.

Even when he inhaled deeply, he felt no pain.

If possible, he wanted to finish everything before the medicine wore off.

He passed between the columns, reached the western door, and kicked it without hesitation.

Bang!

The door flew open with a satisfying crash.

A narrow passage came into view. Its ceiling, floor, and walls were all constructed from bricks.

Anyone could tell at a glance that it was probably filled with traps.

Rickart heightened his concentration and sharpened his senses to their limit before stepping inside.

Marie followed at a short distance, followed by Ice and Boribori.

Daisy followed them to the very end as well.

Did she intend to die alongside Rickart if he was killed?

In any case, Rickart moved at a moderate pace, neither too slowly nor too quickly, while gently running one hand along the wall.

Then he spotted someone standing directly ahead.

Without a word, the man drew his sword, and light streamed from its blade.

"Ricky, switch places with me."

Marie spoke from behind him.

"No. I can handle this."

Rickart drew the sword at his waist and walked toward his opponent.

The corridor was too narrow to evade easily. Could Rickart, who was not a Sword Master, withstand his opponent’s sword?

Unexpectedly, Rickart attacked first.

His opponent swung to meet his blade, apparently intending to cut through both Rickart’s sword and his body.

But Rickart’s sword was merely a sacrifice.

He allowed it to be severed, twisted his body, and closed the distance.

He was certain that he would win once the fight became a grapple.

Clang!

Rickart’s sword broke.

At the same instant, his left hand clamped around his opponent’s forearm.

At such close range, the other man should have abandoned his sword and begun wrestling.

Strangely, however, the Order’s Sword Masters lacked the ability to adapt to changing circumstances and possessed few comprehensive combat skills beyond swordsmanship.

These were the typical weaknesses of someone who had trained only in a practice hall and lacked genuine combat experience.

Having become Sword Masters through some strange and sinister method, they were little more than empty husks.

Of course, even becoming a Sword Master that way could not have been easy.

Rickart violently pulled his opponent’s arm and smashed his forehead into the man’s face.

The man’s nose shattered.

At the same time, Rickart seized his throat with his right hand and wrenched it sharply.

Crunch.

After killing his opponent in an instant, Rickart took the man’s sword for himself.

If my sword breaks, I’ll just use yours.

As expected of a weapon wielded by a Sword Master, it was of excellent quality.

Rickart stepped over the corpse and continued forward until another opponent appeared.

Holding the longsword in one hand, he extended his empty hand as though measuring the distance between them.

To his opponent, Rickart’s stance looked bizarre.

His swordsmanship had been learned entirely through warfare and actual combat, so his posture changed according to the situation.

To someone unfamiliar with his methods, his weaknesses seemed obvious, and his technique appeared to lack any proper foundation.

Yet it was the swordsmanship of the very god they worshiped.

They could not recognize it even when it stood directly before their eyes.

This time, Rickart pretended that he intended to grapple. Then he drew a dagger, stabbed it into his opponent’s neck, and cut through it.

Once again, he took the dead man’s sword and continued forward.

Then he encountered a third enemy.

After watching his two companions die, the man abruptly pressed one of the bricks in the wall.

The walls on both sides of the passage began slowly closing in.

Grrrrrrr...

"Huh?"

"Ricky?"

Rickart quickly shoved the enemy aside and sprinted forward without hesitation.

The walls continued closing around him.

His side burned with pain, but the situation was so urgent that he barely noticed it.

Fortunately, the exit was not far away.

Rickart escaped the passage, and his friends emerged one after another behind him.

Even Daisy, who was surprisingly fast on her feet, made it out before the two walls met completely.

The new area they entered was absurdly magnificent.

Enormous pillars, each one colossal in scale, stood in long rows on either side.

Intricate reliefs had been carved along the pillars, but every one depicted people suffering or some other horrific scene.

Rickart inspected his injury.

The side of his true-silver armor had been cut open, and blood was steadily pouring from the wound.

He heard his friends calling from behind him.

But the enemy had no intention of moving aside. He seemed prepared to die, determined to take them all with him.

Rickart was in too much of a hurry to devise a clever response.

He simply charged, choosing to sacrifice flesh to take bone.

His opponent’s sword flashed and stabbed toward Rickart’s abdomen.

However, the protection offered by his breastplate was so exceptional that the blade failed to penetrate fully and was deflected sideways.

Scrape!

At that instant, Rickart gripped his dagger in a reverse hold and drove it into his opponent’s face with the full momentum of his charge.

Startled, Marie hurriedly sat Rickart down.

She removed his armor, tore open his clothing, and poured a potion over the wound.

When she tried to make him drink the remainder, Rickart turned his head away in refusal.

"It makes me sleepy. I think we’re almost there."

Truthfully, the injury was not life-threatening. If he drank the potion, he would undoubtedly survive.

But given their circumstances, it was difficult to decide what to do.

"Just drink it. We might be the first group to arrive. You can sleep for a while."

Marie repeatedly pushed the mouth of the potion bottle against Rickart’s lips.

Left with no choice, Rickart drank it.

He sat with his back against a pillar and caught his breath.

It was not long before drowsiness overwhelmed him.

As his eyes slowly closed, someone’s voice brushed against his ears.

A stranger was speaking to them from within the enormous corridor.

It was the man in the tall, conical hood whom they had seen in the first trapped passage.

He was addressing Ice.

"Traitor."

The man removed his conical hood.

The moment Ice saw his face, he froze.

This was the priest who had trained Ice during his childhood.

He was also the man who had forced Ice to spit on his dead younger sibling.

Ice had been suffering from an inexplicable anxiety all this time, and now his trauma erupted.

He could no longer think.

He gasped so desperately that he seemed to have more difficulty breathing than Rickart, who suffered from consumption.

"Is this how I taught you?"

"Who the hell are you?"

Boribori spoke in a warning tone.

But the priest ignored him. Like a specter from the past, he continued speaking to Ice.

"This is your final opportunity. The Resurrection is imminent. Come to me. Then both you and your sibling shall be saved. Refuse, and you will suffer in hell for eternity. Your sibling will be cast into hell because of you as well."

"Stop spouting that absurd nonsense!"

Marie , who had listened long enough, flew into a rage. She drew her sword and moved to kill him.

Then it happened.

Clang!

Ice drew his sword like lightning and knocked Marie ’s blade aside.

Struck by an attack from the last person she expected, Marie staggered backward.

She and Boribori stared at Ice in disbelief.

Ice wore a vacant expression.

He stood opposed to his friends, almost as if he were protecting the cultist priest.

The point of his sword remained aimed at them.

Hadn’t he already been saved?

Was he wavering now, after everything?

"Hey..."

Boribori called out to Ice with an almost devastated expression.

His voice trembled as though he could not believe this was happening.

Deep within his chest, disappointment and betrayal began to rise.

It made all the years of friendship they had shared feel like a lie.

"Hah... Hah... Hah..."

Ice could not speak. He merely continued gasping for breath.

"That’s right, Ice. Kill those unbelievers. It does not matter if you die fighting them. It will be martyrdom, and you shall enter Heaven."

Even now, Ice could not immediately attack his friends.

He appeared to be suffering amid an overwhelming internal conflict.

Yet he did not lower the sword pointed at them.

Boribori felt as though his heart were being torn apart.

How could Ice do this?

Could a human being truly behave this way?

They had accepted that he was a heretic. They had protected him to the very end even when the Order was being persecuted.

Anger began rising within Boribori.

He was so furious that tears nearly filled his eyes.

"Marie , take Ricky and go. I’ll kill him."

"Bori..."

Boribori addressed Ice.

"Honestly, I didn’t like you from the moment we met. But I was grateful to you too, you know? But Ice..."

His eyes reddening, Boribori slowly drew his sword.

Memories of the time they had spent together flashed through his mind.

"You can’t beat me anymore."