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Dersian calmly caught his breath.

The Swordmaster. His growing skills had even earned him such a grandiose title—it seemed the world truly was vast.

He never thought he’d be held back in a place like this.

‘At this rate, it’ll be hard to finish before Count Berthus arrives.’

The roaring flames showed no signs of dying down.

The once-fertile earth had blackened into lifelessness, and every gust of wind scattered coarse ashes into the air.

The flickering embers danced like blossoms blooming at dawn.

As a massive force surged forward, Dersian’s sword met it with a sharp counterstrike.

Within the ashen world, his silver blade gleamed brilliantly.

“Gahhh…!”

Thud.

The mighty beastman warrior finally fell to his knees.

Blood poured in torrents from his grasped neck—a fatal wound, no doubt about it.

He wouldn’t last long like this.

For Dersian, that was a relief. This opponent had delayed him endlessly, standing like an unyielding wall.

Truly, he had been a formidable and tenacious foe.

“─

Was the beastman’s fall a turning point?

A woman’s voice, more a shriek than proper words, erupted nearby.

The high-pitched sound reverberated with fury, accompanied by a storm of flames.

It was less like the crack of a whip and more like waves crashing violently upon an open sea.

After a brief deliberation, Dersian chose to evade. Not because he couldn’t confront it head-on, but because there was no need.

The firepower wouldn’t last long anyway.

If such strength had been available from the beginning, it would have been unleashed earlier.

Clearly, the woman had overexerted herself to increase her output.

As he moved deftly to avoid the scorching flames, Dersian had a thought.

‘It’s shallow.’

Each wave was undeniably terrifying in its intensity,

but it couldn’t compare to the sword strikes of “Shadow Moon”.

How could he ever forget?

The eerie silence, the almost ethereal quality of that blade.

A terror so profound it felt as though ten lives wouldn’t be enough to survive it—and yet, breathtakingly beautiful.

That day’s memory was etched deep in Dersian’s mind, never to be erased.

Thus, this was a risk worth taking.

Compared to Shadow Moon, this was a danger he could endure.

Dersian pushed through the blazing inferno.

The searing winds felt as though they would melt his skin. Felt, but ultimately did not.

In an instant, he closed the distance.

The red-haired woman glared at him, her face contorted with rage.

As Dersian moved to strike her down, three sharp arrows whistled through the air.

Though unharmed, he had missed a golden opportunity.

‘It seems I’ll need to deal with the archer first.’

The arrows weren’t particularly powerful, but their precision was disruptive, constantly breaking his momentum.

A quick glance revealed the beastman warrior, whom he thought incapacitated, slowly rising to his feet.

‘This is troublesome.’

From the beastman, Dersian could sense the divine power of the dark god, Hibras.

A black, sticky aura—an ominous force cloaked the white tiger beastman’s body.

Every instinct as a living being screamed of its danger.

One of Dersian’s lingering doubts was resolved.

He had been skeptical when the Church of Hibras had been declared a heretical cult, but faced with such a sinister divinity, it was hard to argue otherwise.

The beastman warrior spoke in a voice that seemed on the verge of breaking.

“I am not… done yet. I, Galedin, will not… die.”

“That much seems true,” Dersian replied. “But it won’t be long.”

“My children… will never be touched.”

“Those you’ve killed surely felt the same.”

Dersian steadied his stance calmly.

“Ha

He flicked the blood from his sword.

With the woman’s final death throes, the raging flames vanished as though they had been a lie.

They had been far tougher opponents than expected.

The beastman warrior, Galedin, had clung to him relentlessly until the very end, and the archer had disrupted him even at the brink of death.

The supernatural flames had, albeit briefly, rivaled the spells of a grand mage.

But now, there were only three corpses left behind.

Was this the strength of those beneath Eilencia?

Even beyond Count Berthus, there were warriors of such caliber under their banner.

To wield such power and devote it solely to war—it was horrific.

Perhaps it was their might that had driven them to cry out for war in the first place.

‘The current age is marching toward peace, yet here we are.’

There was no time to dwell on such thoughts.

Eilencia’s source of power—it was now his to confront.

“Dersian Esquente!”

A Crimson Aura Pierced the Air

A crimson-black aura slashed through the space, surging forward.

The ferocity of the energy screamed like a wild beast, and the massive greatsword bared its fangs.

There was only one person on this continent capable of exuding such an overwhelming killing intent.

Razen Berthus—a masterpiece crafted by the dark god.

From within a helmet resembling a demon, faint crimson light seemed to gleam ominously.

“Well, you’ve finally arrived, Count Berthus. Your nemesis is here.”

“Nemesis? Hah, such arrogance. Do you truly consider yourself my equal?”

“Even so, I’ll manage to buy some time, won’t I?”

Silver steel clashed against the fangs of the beast-like greatsword.

As expected, Dersian was already beginning to feel the strain.

Now it was time to change tactics and wait for reinforcements.

‘Please don’t take too long, Elise.’

***

The Beastman Warrior Galedin.

The Pyrokinetic Ability-User Mary.

The Sharpshooter Hakon.

These three were individuals we had saved from the battlefield.

At the time, Sirien and I were stationed near the gates, acting as the proverbial fire brigade.

We were deployed after receiving an emergency request for reinforcements, but by the time we arrived, the situation was grim.

A half-destroyed outpost littered with corpses.

Demons rampaging unchecked.

Even the survivors we managed to save were mostly beyond help.

Galedin stood there, blood-soaked, shielding two young ones.

Mary and Hakon had been boy soldiers back then, much like we once were.

It was a sad yet common occurrence—mercenary groups using children to fill their ranks.

For the mercenary companies, headcount equaled payment, and the world had no shortage of abandoned children.

It wasn’t unusual for these boy soldiers to die alongside their older comrades.

Galedin had originally been part of another mercenary group, only to find himself with just the two kids left after the chaos.

From that day on, the three of them stuck together, with Galedin effectively raising the two as his own.

He was, in practice, their adoptive father.

“Why is it so hard to see you, unnie? I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve been very busy. You’ve grown so much!”

“And you’re even prettier than the last time I saw you, unnie!”

“I… I am?”

Mary adored Sirien.

Ability-users like Mary often had difficulty with education and self-control, leading to frequent injuries caused by their own powers.

Sirien, capable of wielding immense power while protecting Mary from harming herself, naturally became her mentor.

Through this, they grew close.

Galedin, on the other hand, had been a seasoned warrior from the start, so there wasn’t much to teach him. Hakon was mostly trained by Galedin himself, although I occasionally stepped in when asked.

Hakon, always quiet, gave a polite nod of respect.

Galedin grinned and clapped Hakon on the back.

“This kid’s improved a lot. You’ll be surprised the next time you see him in action.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

There was no need for an extended reunion.

We hadn’t been apart for long, and we’d surely see each other again soon.

Galedin, especially, was meticulous when it came to work.

“Alright, we’ll head out for a patrol. Mary, save the catching up for later and start by surveying the area.”

“Yes, sir! See you later, unnie!”

“Alright, see you.”

It seemed they’d prearranged their tasks, as the three headed off to scout the surroundings.

I waved them off as they disappeared.

In the original story, these three hadn’t been given much prominence.

They were one-time characters, obstacles meant to delay Dersian’s journey until my arrival.

Their deaths had occurred within the span of a few sentences—brief and final.

If Galedin’s name hadn’t been mentioned, I might not have remembered them at all.

Back then, Dersian was already renowned as the Swordmaster.

Even within the heroine’s reverse harem, he was among the strongest.

The fact that these three had given him such trouble was like striking gold.

They were allies worth investing in.

I suspected that, even in the original story, they were meant to be valuable assets.

Razen’s fury after witnessing their deaths certainly suggested as much.

Though, to be fair, my character in the novel always seemed angry, so it was hard to say for sure.

The three faded from view, and I finished checking on the state of the procession.

There was nothing more for us to do here.

“Let’s head back to our post.”

“Okay. By the way, Razen?”

“What?”

Sirien smiled brightly, her small frame pressing close to my side.

“Why aren’t you holding my hand today?”

“Ahem. Well, you know… people might notice.”

“Why does that matter? You’re mine now. If anything, I should make sure no one else gets any ideas.”

“I doubt anyone’s interested…”

“Wrong! I’m sure there are. Sneaky little cats. I won’t let them near you.”

Well, if she insisted.

Our hands clasped together, and Sirien finally looked satisfied.

“Hehe. Good. Let’s go back now.”

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