Quit The Hero Party

EP.79 Side Story, The Apostate (Completed)

Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.

Kyle saw the calamity before him. It was a skeleton, a jumbled mass of human and beast bones. The bones did not form a complete shape. They jutted out. It was not a single skeleton. Dozens of skeletons were mixed together.

Beast, human, and fiend remains.

The grotesque mass of bones was bizarre. It was imbalanced.

Ganikalt moved his drooping right arm.

The sound of the great sword dragging on the ground was low and ominous.

His right arm, holding a sword with holes in it, was massive.

It was not a human arm. A human spine encased an arm with six fingers. In comparison to the bulky right arm, the left was slender. Unlike the right, which looked beastly, the left resembled a human’s.

“…”

Kyle lifted his head.

It was so large that he had to lift his head to see the face. Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade, was hiding his face with tattered clothing. Kyle squinted his eyes. Through the torn cloth, a helmet could be seen. The helmet was broken, half of it shattered.

‘Black eyes.’

A flash of black light flickered from within the crumbled helmet.

A void-like black gaze looked at Kyle.

“You.”

It opened its mouth.

“Do you not hold a sword?”

Kyle looked at the holy sword he had lost long ago.

A sound from behind caught his attention late. Knights, realizing the beasts had vanished, were rushing towards Kyle.

‘No, I must stop…’

Words failed him.

Kyle turned back. There were knights charging toward him.

Hooom.

The great sword swept across the plains.

The sword’s tip did not point at Kyle. The wind picked up. The wind carried a foul stench.

“…Ah.”

Scrape.

The knights rushing toward Kyle collapsed.

They were beheaded without even a dying scream. In a single swing, the knights were swept away.

It was different from charging at the Carapace Dragon.

That death was meaningless.

Blood splattered. Death filled the plains.

“I ask.”

Death called to Kyle.

Before everyone, death is impartial.

“Do you not hold a sword?”

Dread-stricken, Kyle reached for the holy sword, stepping back and grasping the hilt.

No light shimmered in his eyes.

Starlight did not rise within the holy sword.

It was something he had never experienced. Kyle pressed the sword against himself and gripped it firmly.

‘Why?’

Even as he thought, death approached.

‘Why is there no light? Why?’

Kyle raised his head.

Before he knew it, death was right before him. Death lifted its sword.

Kyle sensed his impending doom.

Facing death was hollow. Everything he had built up until now was meaningless before death. He couldn’t even hold the sword properly.

As with all life, humanity is powerless before death.

“I told you, Kyle.”

Then.

“Do not trust the stars too much.”

Someone yanked Kyle by the nape of his neck. The sword slammed into the spot where he had stood. Kyle, who narrowly avoided death, slowly turned his head.

“…Master?”

There stood the Sword Master, Kuntel.

2.

Kuntel wiped the blood from his forehead.

Exhausted from battling the Carapace Dragon, his sword was in poor condition. He should be resting.

However, for some reason.

The moment he spotted the calamity from afar, Kuntel found himself running. He had pulled Kyle by the nape.

‘Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.’

The sight of death after so many years remained unchanged.

Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade, was a knight. He did not slay defenseless enemies.

“Kyle.”

Kuntel tightened his grip on Kyle’s nape.

“You cannot die here.”

If someone must die.

It must not be the hero but himself.

“Go on, I will handle this.”

With that, he threw Kyle towards the Ashen Mage’s direction. Just then, a chain shot out and wrapped around Kyle.

Suspended in the air, Kyle opened his eyes wide.

Meeting Kuntel’s gaze, Kuntel smiled.

“It’s your turn now, Kyle.”

Having sent Kyle off, Kuntel faced death again. Death extended a human arm, pointing at the sword Kuntel held.

“The Sword of the Holy Site, huh.”

Death asked.

“Are you the knight who did not draw the sword back then?”

“It was hardly an era to be called a knight.”

Death raised its sword.

“Now, you are a knight.”

“Being evaluated like that leaves me awkward, you know.”

Kuntel smirked.

It had been thirty years since the day the Kirmelt Canyon collapsed. For the past thirty years, Kuntel had drawn death’s blade countless times in his mind.

‘I remember all of it.’

An individual called the Superhuman of the Sword dedicated his life to confront a single sword. The years he had spent were about to bear fruit. Kuntel watched.

Where death swept through.

Kuntel took a light step forward.

Everywhere but in front of him was consumed by death. Dodging an attack, Kuntel drew his sword.

‘Forget about reaching it.’

It was impossible to strike down the calamity.

Do not think of what cannot be done.

‘What matters is buying time.’

He bought time for the hero to flee.

He didn’t even believe that was possible. The death he faced was more terrifying than any foe.

The ground shattered with every swing of its sword.

Death brushed against his skin.

Death was terrifyingly close, provoking fear.

But Kuntel felt no fear.

He resolved himself the moment he drew his sword. No regrets. If there were a place to abandon this life of peaks and valleys, it would be here.

Swish.

The great sword swiped past Kuntel’s head.

The massive sword swung by the bulky arm was heavy and sharp. Its weight and sharpness were incomparable to Kuntel’s sword.

But Kuntel had something.

Something that the Death’s Blade did not possess.

‘Techniques.’

Ganikalt wielded his sword like a blunt weapon.

He did not use swordsmanship. That alone was powerful enough, but if he got close enough— that was the realm of technique.

‘Heaviness. Fluidity. Altering trajectories. Disruption.’

A Superhuman of the Sword who was prepared to lose his life demonstrates everything he has. Decades of honed skills slowed down the approaching death.

If the opponent were a mage, it would be impossible.

Even against an overwhelmingly violent ancient monster, it would still be impossible.

But the opponent was a knight.

If the one holding the sword is the opponent… Kuntel believed he would not be overwhelmed in swordsmanship.

‘I am the Sword Master.’

How long did the exchanges of blades last?

It felt like a whole night had passed, or perhaps merely seconds.

“Huff, huff…”

Kuntel’s clothes were soaked with sweat and blood.

Blood flowed from his entire body, cut by the pressure of the battle. As the cost of challenging the impossible, his fingers holding the sword were thrashed.

Merely standing was a form of suffering.

“…”

As Kuntel looked on, Ganikalt thrust his sword downward.

Boom!

The burst of pressure pushed Kuntel backward.

“I ask.”

Death’s Blade released his sword.

Gripping the sword not with the grotesque right arm, but with the human-like left arm.

“What is your name?”

To this inquiry, Kuntel responded.

“I am Kuntel of the Lichtena style.”

“Kuntel.”

Ganikalt pulled the sword lodged in the ground. With a left arm unfit to wield such a massive blade, he lifted it, pointing the tip at Kuntel.

“I pay my respect to the esteemed knight.”

He readied the blade.

Kuntel’s eyes widened.

‘It’s different.’

It was not the sword of a beast. It was a human’s sword.

Not just a sword swung through brute force. Kuntel felt familiarity in the stance Ganikalt took.

Boom.

Ganikalt corrected his stance and took a step forward, swinging his sword. As he saw the approaching attack, Kuntel let out a wry smile.

‘So that’s how it is.’

There was no way he wouldn’t know that stance.

He knew the trajectory that sword would trace.

‘You, too, were a Sword Master.’

The swordsmanship descending from the Kirmelt Canyon unfolds through the blade of Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade. Someone with a physique that even overshadows the hero demonstrates first-rate techniques.

There was no way to block it.

Kuntel felt death. There was no way to evade the incoming blade. It wasn’t a matter of strength or speed.

‘The level is different.’

Because Kuntel was a Sword Master, he recognized.

The level was different. The opponent was in a realm far beyond. He could clearly envision his own neck falling.

Death was visible.

Before death, humanity is a pitiful sight.

No matter the great feats one has accomplished, everything returns to nothing before death.

Crunch.

Yet, sometimes, there are those.

Those who attempt to leave something behind even in death.

Swish.

Death swept past Kuntel.

His head fell. His heart was shattered. The blade that could not endure broke.

Offering all that as a price, Kuntel thrust his sword.

The broken tip of his sword touched Ganikalt’s body. The perseverance of a single man who dedicated his life reached the calamity.

“…”

Ganikalt looked at the disassembled body of Kuntel on the ground.

And then he saw the hero fleeing into the distance.

Ganikalt did not pursue the hero.

He walked, carrying the unconscious Gletus, with his sword laid down. Beyond the dark fields, into the realm of demons.

3.

“…So while Uncle Kuntel held out against the Death’s Blade, we fled.”

I moistened my throat with liquor.

“The story ends here. I encountered Gletus a few more times afterward, and I faced the Death’s Blade once more, but that would make the story too long.”

“That’s enough.”

Cardi nodded.

He fiddled with his drink, then spoke.

“Impressive.”

“What is?”

“I’m talking about that Sword Master. To consider holding out against Ganikalt, that guy, with just a sword… it’s incredible, to say the least.”

I bitterly smiled at his response.

Cardi’s words were true. That day, on the plains, Sword Master Kuntel achieved a great feat. We understood best how remarkable that was.

‘Then, when we faced the Death’s Blade, we were in a hurry to flee.’

“So, Cardi.”

I set down my empty cup and looked at Cardi.

“What is this ‘shadow’ you spoke of?”

“…Did you say you faced the Death’s Blade?”

“Yeah. I’ve been in close encounters with it.”

“That sword had holes, didn’t it?”

I nodded.

‘The sword with holes.’

I remembered the iconic appearance of that sword.

“He likely wouldn’t have used it against a knight, but against you, he might have.”

“What do you mean?”

“From the holes in the sword, murky water flowed.”

“…Right, I remember. It was the murky water that swallowed everything, regardless of the spell cast.”

Because of that, only Kyle could confront the Death’s Blade. My magic lost its brilliance before that murky water.

“Exactly, it swallows everything related to starlight. That’s what we refer to as ‘shadow.’”

Cardi brought over a lantern placed on the table.

While setting the lantern down, he began to speak.

“We magicians manifest our spells through transactions with the stars. Every magic is faintly permeated with starlight.”

He pointed at the flickering lamp.

“But think about it, Raniel. Isn’t it odd? Everything achieves balance… yet there’s nothing that achieves balance with starlight.”

Cardi touched the lantern.

“Life balances with death. Every entity has a counterconcept. But there’s none with the stars. The stars always shine brightly. Despite their immense power, there’s nothing that exists to balance them.”

He slowly lowered his finger.

“Originally, a counterconcept to the stars should not have existed. Unless some lunatic observed that and drew it as a concept.”

Cardi pointed to the shadow pooling beneath the lantern.

“The shadow is a concept that balances with the stars. If starlight shines brilliantly, the shadow also expands.”

“…So it’s not something that consumes mana.”

“It only swallows everything related to stars.”

Cardi stated.

“To banish that, you must either wield brilliantly radiant light that cannot be swallowed… or cover it with an even greater shadow. It’s one or the other.”

As I listened to that, something clicked in my mind. I tried to vocalize that hypothesis.

“Cardi, what if…”

“Stop there.”

Cardi interrupted me.

“Not yet. That’s information you can only know after digging a bit deeper into the shadow.”

“…How did you know what I was about to ask?”

“Anyway, it’s not happening. I’ve already been quite cautious to say even this much.”

He took a sip of his remaining drink.

“Let’s hope the day doesn’t come when I have to say more.”

“…Well then.”

I sighed and fell onto the table. Cardi, who had been eyeing me, suddenly spoke.

“You’ve grown quite a bit, kiddo.”

“What?”

“I’m talking about you, Raniel.”

Cardi smiled softly and continued.

“The kid who lost his hometown to the Demon Lord has now devoured the Ashen Tower, faced calamity on the battlefield, and lived to tell about it… it’s a bit surreal.”

“Have you lost your mind? Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“I’m just saying.”

He shrugged.

“It seems you’ve had quite the tough five years.”

“It has been hard.”

“Did it really need to be like that? The moment you faced calamity, no one would have blamed you for fleeing.”

“I suppose they wouldn’t have.”

I spoke while reminiscing about the past five years.

“Still, that wasn’t an option.”

“…”

“Countless knights sacrificed themselves for us. They believed we would capture the Demon Lord, that we would drive away the calamity, and they gave their lives.”

The hero stands upon countless sacrifices.

For the sake of the hero, anyone would willingly lay down their life. Even lining up only those knights who sacrificed themselves for us would fill the plains.

‘Sword Master, Uncle Kuntel.’

Even such superhumans willingly gave their lives.

Trusting in our potential.

“How could I ignore that?”

I simply couldn’t.

What began as a journey for achievement gradually morphed into duty and responsibility.

“If I must die, I will catch him. I am a hero for that, and this is a hero’s party.”

I smiled bitterly.

“Well, it seems I’m the only one who thinks like this.”

At some point, the brilliance faded from Kyle’s eyes. The potential I had once seen had dimmed.

No matter how hard I tried.

Even if I staked my life.

I couldn’t defeat the remaining calamities without Kyle’s help. Facing the Demon Lord was daunting.

‘So, I tried to find some way to revive him…’

In the end, I failed.

After busying myself every day, I grew tired of trying to convince him, and just before leaving, it felt like we hardly shared any meaningful conversation.

“Well, anyway, I enjoyed the drinks. The stories were great too.”

“Wait a moment, Raniel.”

Just as I was about to stand up, Cardi grabbed my wrist. With a glance questioning him, he pointed to the corner of the shop.

‘…Rat killer.’

The rat I had thrown against the wall was stuck there.

“Why is that there?”

“Are you not going to clean that up before you leave?”

“Seriously, who put that on the table?”

“Clean it up.”

Damn, who would put that there!

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