Chapter 220 – The Temple of the Nephilim (3)

The saint Yu Sein watched the hero.

A face carved like a sculpture and a personality without edges. Was it only his appearance and character? He was also the only one in the current era to manifest a spiritual-grade blessing — the “Blessing of the Miracle.” Moreover, he was the bearer of “Balmung,” the sacred and demonic sword at once.

He appropriated all the fortunes and opportunities this world could offer. They say everyone is the protagonist of their own life, but the true protagonists, chosen by destiny, are few.

A young man favored by the world, the hero who carried the fate of humanity on his shoulders. A being born to be loved, without need for reasons or explanations. That was Leon van Reinhardt.

But.

Those eyes. Two blue dots floating in the darkness. Leon was approaching like a wolf, casting a sharp gaze. He didn’t look like a hero, but a monstrous assassin.

If anyone else had been present, they would have wondered if that guy was really a hero. The aura of a hungry beast enveloped him, as if he were about to devour his prey.

Fuuuu.

The wind blew in the closed space. It didn’t seem like a natural current.

The hero roared the name of the saint, and just by hearing it, Se-in felt her eardrums tremble.

“Saint Yu Sein.”

The golden mane of the wild monster became disheveled. Leon bared his teeth and spoke fiercely.

“I don’t care which god you serve. I’m not interested in why you pray for Kang Geom-Ma or what your plans are.”

Se-in felt her body freeze. As if icy water flowed through her veins, her temperature plummeted.

“But if you ever reveal my secret to anyone, I won’t hesitate to cut your throat.”

Se-in brought a hand to her chest, feeling the wrinkles marked into the fabric wet with sweat. She was scared. She knew who Leon really was. As his steps drew nearer, her fear grew.

However, Se-in smiled resolutely. Though sweat beaded her forehead, she did not waver. If she feared threats, she would have never accepted the fate of being a saint.

“If you want to kill me, do it whenever you want. But Leon, you know it too, don’t you? If you kill me, this world will end at that very instant.”

“……”

“A world destroyed by the hero’s own hand. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? I’m sure everyone would love it.”

Leon faltered in his steps. Sein continued speaking.

“You’re also afraid of yourself, aren’t you? You don’t know where you’re headed. You don’t know if the path you follow is the right one, or when that thing inside you will lose control. So every day, you repeat to yourself I am human, I am human.”

Leon’s blue eyes grew cloudy.

“But you know what? You’re not human. You’re not a demon either. You are something that can be both and yet neither. Poor Leon. Why do you deny so much what you are?”

“……”

“Leon’s destiny, the Nephilim — to be a human who must defeat the Demon King and, at the same time, become the demon who defies God.”

“Shut up! I’m not a demon!”

Leon roared with all his strength. The flames of the candles trembled, and the windows vibrated. But instead of weakening, the light of the church intensified.

Fwoosh.

Golden flames erupted all around. It was the sacred fire, the saint’s healing power. These divine flames sealed the movements of those with corrupt hearts.

Leon’s eyes trembled. He couldn’t move. He could barely wiggle his fingers.

Se-in staggered to her feet. A thread of blood ran down her face, staining her white robe red.

She smiled bitterly as she advanced, leaning against the walls and the backs of the chairs. The flames protected her on all sides.

Leon couldn’t take a single step. He only gripped the hilt of Balmung tightly. In his hand, good and evil clashed violently.

“Try harder, Leon.”

The saint spoke to him, turning her back.

“If you keep going like this, you’ll never be able to kill the Demon King. And you know that better than anyone.”

***

The Nephilim Temple.

Did they say it was a place where good and evil coexisted? Maybe that’s why, inside the temple, darkness and light shared the space equally.

The atmosphere was solemn. A grayish mist floated in the air, and the strong scent of aromatic oils made everything even heavier.

Steps, steps.

As I walked, I looked around. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were made of the usual white limestone one would imagine in a temple. However, everything that filled that immaculate space was overwhelmingly monstrous.

An altar with a statue of a goat-headed, human-bodied demon, in front of which some hooded beings, surely demons, incessantly bowed. Beside them, other demons repeated the same acts before different statues, over and over, again and again.

Decadent acts in a place that should be sacred. The shadows cast inside the temple writhed as if they were living entrails.

Some demons glanced at us sideways, but most were absorbed in their religious rituals. Though calling it a “ritual” was…

Just watching it already made me feel like my mind was being contaminated, and I frowned. To them, these might be religious ceremonies, but to my eyes, it was nothing but a demonic cult.

‘Just as the Sword Master said, there’s not a single human here.’

Coming in person, I understood immediately. This was not a place a human could visit without nerves of steel. Although, actually, it seemed to affect others too.

“Sir Geom-Ma…”

Behind me, Horn gently tugged on my sleeve. She was clinging to my back with a nervous expression. Not even a dragon, one of the highest-ranked beings among demons, could feel comfortable in this place of corruption.

“Don’t worry, Horn.”

I squeezed her small hand tightly. She seemed to calm down a little. On the other hand, the old elf walked relatively calmly, as if he were used to it.

Although, of course, his face remained tense after everything that had happened before entering the temple. He had had a direct confrontation with the Second Corps Commander of the Demon King, Kuarne.

It wouldn’t be strange if his life were in danger at any moment. Even in a neutral place like this temple, for him every step was like walking on thin ice.

That’s why the old elf advanced with extreme caution, as if crossing a fragile bridge, without taking his eyes off the white figure walking a few steps ahead. If he sensed the slightest danger, he was ready to flee or hide behind me.

‘What kind of demons hide behind a human?’

A dragon and a dark elf, members of the most feared races, using me as a shield. It was ridiculous. Was I supposed to be a human breakwater?

At that moment, Kuarne stopped. The old elf let out a big sigh, and Horn also trembled slightly.

Kuarne slowly turned his body, like a wind-up doll, and spoke with a slight smile.

“This is it.”

The place he brought us to was a large altar. A huge statue almost touched the ceiling. A human figure with both hands resting on the hilt of a sword. Unlike the other demonic statues, this one was completely different.

Kuarne spoke.

“The god worshiped in the Nephilim Temple. It’s this one.”

With a peculiar gaze, Kuarne looked up at the statue’s face. The interior light of the temple seemed to illuminate only the statue and Kuarne.

“The truth is, this form does not represent its true appearance. This appearance is only a shell, a limited form for us mortals. The true god can take any shape.”

“Stop talking nonsense and tell me why you brought us here and what’s so important that you had to say.”

I warned him, in a dry tone. Kuarne smiled silently and nodded.

“You’re very impatient. Very well.”

He looked at me directly. His eyes and eyelashes, white as frost, curved in a faint gesture.

“Do you know? When this world was born, there was no distinction between good and evil. There was only chaos. White could be evil, and black could be goodness. A world like you and me, Geom-Ma.”

Kuarne’s voice, wrapped in the aroma of oils, had something drowsy about it.

“Black has always been considered the color of demons. But look at you, the strongest of humans, you have black hair and black eyes. I, on the other hand, am completely covered in white.”

With a slight movement of his fingers, the grayish smoke in the air traced a circle in the void.

“This gray was, in truth, the color of chaos that united demons and humans. However.”

With his long finger, he cut the circle into a curve, separating it into white and black.

“We were forced to divide because of false gods. Like water and oil, we could no longer mix. Wonder why? It’s simple. They just sought entertainment. For those false gods, watching demons and humans spill blood and self-destruct was simple fun.”

Kuarne extended his hand and squeezed the smoke circle. The symbol of yin and yang scattered into nothingness.

“How do we know that’s true? It could just be a fantasy of yours.”

I retorted. Kuarne smiled.

“It can’t be otherwise. I was one of the wings that protected those false gods.”

So it was true… The assumption I had when I first saw him was confirmed.

Kuarne himself had said it — he was one of the guardian wings of the false gods. In other words, an angel, one of those damned birds I had exterminated.

“I was the second brightest wing among them. Although I have abandoned that name, back then they called me ‘Azazel.’ More than any other radiant wing, I killed countless lives on Earth. I pride myself on having killed more than anyone.”

So he was second among those damned beings. Although the angels I killed in the past weren’t weak, Kuarne was on a completely different level. Even his mere avatar had an overwhelming aura.

Better not to imagine how much stronger his true body was, or even the strongest angel of all. That didn’t matter now.

“After thousands of years serving those false gods, finally ‘He’ appeared.”

For the first time, Kuarne showed a genuine emotion. Until now, he had only faked smiles.

“They were transcendental, yes. But ‘He’ alone, with a single sword, annihilated all spiritual entities. Ah, how beautiful and majestic it was!”

Kuarne’s voice filled with fervor. Horn and the old elf took a few steps back, as if it were hard to breathe.

“It was then that I understood. Only ‘He’ could break this false chain of white and black, of good and evil. Only He could return the world to true chaos.”

Kuarne’s fervor was already bordering on madness. He caressed his face like a lunatic.

“But what irony… Instead of remaking the world, ‘He’ punished the false gods and then, with His own sword, ended His life.”

Finally, I knew who this “He” that Kuarne worshiped was.

I had already suspected it since the Sword Master gave me a clue.

The Sword God.

“But the time is near. Soon ‘He’ will return and plunge this hypocritical world into chaos once more.”

Finally, Kuarne pronounced the name of his deity. But it wasn’t the one I expected.

“The Demon King.”

Darkness covered my face. All light disappeared, and absolute night swallowed the temple.