Khun became a Master at the age of 70, and even after that, he worked tirelessly to defeat Ian.
It was a story which fueled dreams and gave hope to all of the people on the continent. But few people knew how much of a fallacy that one sentence was.
It wasn't just trying for a single year.
Furthermore, trying for 5 or 10 years, or decades together, wasn't something which could be done with ordinary mental strength.
The prospect of walking down a single road for the rest of their life without a hope that they would reach their goal, without knowing whether they could advance or had to back off…it was close to torture.
It was darkness.
And hell.
To get out of that, Khun did everything he could. It was to the extent where he took more time to control his emotions, than improving his swordsmanship. Fortunately, there were results.
The ridicule of the world, the pity they had for him, the sadness he felt and his loss of self-esteem. To escape from the negative energy, Khun went on a long journey to build trust.
A healthy fighting spirit dispelled the feelings of inferiority he had and instilled in him a hope for the future.
He had spent 40 years for it.
Finally, the black wolf in Khun's mind disappeared.
'No, it didn't disappear.'
"Huhuhu," Khun laughed.
Right, it didn't disappear.
The black wolf was alive even though he hadn't fed it or even looked at it.
It was still alive.
Even though the skin on his stomach turned shabby and it stuck to his body, the wolf didn't crumble and disappear. He just escaped from one mind and found a new one.
How many people did it get food from?
Khun couldn't dare to guess.
What was certain was that the former Carl Lindsay was too young and inexperienced to overcome the black wolf who was this well grown.
So…
'… rather, I see hope.'
The old man looked at himself.
Both his arms were busted, and neither of them had a single finger anymore.
Blood was dripping down from what felt like everywhere, and he felt dizzy too. All of his big and small wounds were still open.
With the number of injuries he had, he should have died. But what was worse was that the black wolf turned into a devil and another monster in the form of a clown appeared in front of him.
He knew it right away.
The level he has reached now couldn't be expressed with words, and it was a point far beyond the miracles of sorcerers.
Originally, he felt like it would have been possible to reconstruct his body by gathering the surrounding energy, and thus have a new body again.
But it was impossible now.
If he tried doing it with the evil in the air around him, it would only give birth to more evil. So, Khun realized that this was the end.
Then, what was the hope the old man saw?
Smile.
The corners of his lips rose.
Seeing that, the priest looked at him.
The clown also looked at Khun with vigilant eyes.
'We need to be careful. We need to have him!'
It wasn't because of the recent losses that made him lose his confidence. It was because of the beep in his mind which kept ringing. He recalled the old man from long ago who had torn his mask. The clown remembered the eyes of the old man and the terrible energy in them!
A force comparable to that was flowing from Khun.
'… has to be a thing when they die. Ah, I am scared!'
The clown trembled without realizing it. He didn't want to get too close to him. He even hoped the man just died quietly without creating any more of a mess.
As quietly as a candle melted away…
It was then.
Wheik!
"…!"
"Eik!"
The strongest swordsman of the continent, Khun, stretched out his right arm.
It wasn't exactly an arm anymore, but an aura was formed on it. It was as if the glass was shining in the moonlight with enormous power!
The priest's expression hardened even more, and the clown backed away. The wound behind the mask was throbbing even now. However, the power of the old man wasn't directed at them.
Khun mumbled something slowly, pulling the young man who was on the floor to stand up.
"…"
"…"
"…"
It was an extremely low voice. No, there was no sound at all.
Neither the clown nor the priest could hear the words because the mouth barely moved and only Carl knew what he was saying.
Swish!
Thud!
The end of the story.
The sword of Carl was released from his grip and it was the same with Khun. As if exhausted, he staggered back and lay down on the floor.
Neither the hand nor the aura sword could be seen. After a short time, a voice which was clearer came out from the old man's mouth.
"Hey, friends."
"…"
"…"
"Friends, are you deaf or something? Or are you scared? Cough, haa… are you still going to be scared when you see me like this? Especially you over there, aren't you the one in full swing in Rabat?"
"…"
"To say that she struggled with you, Ignet has a long way to go."
"Bastard…"
The clown looked at Khun with bloodshot eyes, but he didn't end it.
"Bastard, idiot, eunuch, stupid…."
Mumbling that for a long time, Khun then said.
"I will come back."
"…"
"…"
"That bastard pretending to be a priest might not know, but you do. Devils live a long life, don't they?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The legend of an existence that has surpassed the realm of a Sword Master. The great realm that everyone longs for, Grand Sword Master. The story that says when you reach that point, one can escape from the old sick and worn-out body and can be reborn as a new being… have you ever heard of it?"
"…"
"I am sure. I broke the wall of Master, and I will be back. In any way."
"And…
My rival Ian too.
My wife, Kiera too.
My disciple Judith, who has a bright future… I will be back to see them."
Khun mumbled as he chuckled.
It was an innocent smile with no regret, obsession, anger or sadness.
An unstrained voice was enough to even scratch the pride of the devil and it was the end.
A minute and two passed. The old man held his breath until a time and even made the devils uncertain of his death.
The clown finally let out a sigh, and spewed out abusive comments and walked towards the corpse of the old man.
"Ha, you bastard, you fucking bastard! What the hell were you saying?"
"The legend of a Grand Sword Master, you believe in such shit?"
Ha!
The clown laughed at it.
Of course, he knew about the legend. And he never thought of it as nonsense.
No matter what field one is on, there is an ultimate level one can reach, and miracles like sorcery could be performed.
'As I expected, in order to receive the aura which springs up as soon as the Master's wall is broken, and to receive the energy pouring from outside… in order to make a stronger and wider vessel to hold it, the body will be closer to evolving anew.'
But that is a story when the man is alive.
Such a thing couldn't happen after they die and fall like Khun.
Karen Winker, a former swordsman, had a dignity similar to Khun, but he too disappeared into dust. He never showed himself in front of the clown…
'… wait.'
The clown's mind went stiff.
A thought went through his mind.
The little boy who woke him from his long sleep and gave him another bitter wound.
When he felt the anxiety of that, he felt stupid.
"Kuaaaaak!"
A sharp energy flew from Khun, who was thought to be dead and the clown's upper and lower body were separated from the slash.
The clown screamed and roared in pain!
The old man savored it with a satisfied expression.
"You bastard, you should have been on the edge till the end."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"There is no use swearing now… then, I am going for real."
It was the final time.
Khun really stopped breathing, but a smile still lingered on his face.
"…"
Of course, the clown wasn't done.
The torn body of the devil merged again. But the pain was unavoidable. He felt exhausted because the blow which hit him was from a Grand Sword Master. In order to resolve the anger, he wanted to hurt the dead body.
But it was impossible.
"Move,"
The priest pushed the clown and appeared in front of the body. Then, he placed his hand on Khun's chest and began to chant something.
"…"
The clown stayed silent.
Normally he would have stayed still. Although they were together, he was being treated as an assistant to the priest and he wasn't someone who was fine with such unpleasant treatment.
This was the first time he was being treated like this.
But…
"…"
He had to reach a higher level.
The clown didn't let the anger reach the figure who was born from the darkness.
Shudder.
Chhhhh
Khun's energy flowed into the priest's body.
The wolf who was wandering for a long time was finally happy to come back to his home. It rejoiced. It shed tears and even laughed.
After a while.
The clown who was standing in front of the priest who regained his power, said,
"Congratulation to the new Demon King."
"No, don't call me that."
The devil denied the words.
He took a deep breath, and he clenched his fists and straightened his legs.
After examining the body for a long time, he defined his own self.
"Heart Demon."
"…"
"From now on, call me Heart Demon."
"Yes,"
The clown answered and Carl bowed.
However, despite facing the priest who was reborn as a new Heart Demon, his thoughts were flowing in another direction.
'Go to the Holy Kingdom. Go and look at the Warrior's Festival and those taking part in it.'
'You are not enough…still lacking. You need more suffering and losing. You need to still rise up again… if you see them, you might get another chance in the darkness.'
Judith.
Bratt Lloyd.
Ilya Lindsay
And Airn Pareira.
In the smothering darkness, Carl remembered the names the old man spoke of.