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The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master Chapter 220 – The Temple of the Nephilim (3)

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.​‍​

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