NOVEL NEXT Chapter 33
Ophelia had never fought in her life.
She never wanted to, and had no reason to. In the Cathedral, her every word had the congregation bowing down to her, and training with the knights was merely guided sparring. It wasn’t life and death.
Thus, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread as the Desert Goblin approached, clearly harboring murderous intent.
“Hey, uh… do something…”
Ophelia cast a pleading look at Elliot, but he just pouted his lips and blinked at her.
Laila was the same. Of course, unlike Elliot, she had placed her hand on the axe handle, ready to jump in at any moment.
That was a relief, but…
“Grrr?”
The Desert Goblin slapped its club against its palm. The club had several sharp spikes protruding from it, and there were already ragged pieces of flesh stuck on it—had it attacked someone already?
If she got hit by that vicious club, something would definitely break. Hit on the head? Her skull might shatter.
If her head shatters, it couldn’t be restored with Holy Magic.
In other words, that meant death.
Death. To be killed by a Goblin in this godforsaken desert of all places was an incomprehensible nightmare. Ophelia trembled at the horrific future she imagined.
“… Hah, uh… Damn it.”
Ophelia took a step back, but her back hit the wagon.
There was nowhere to flee. Three Desert Goblins were in front of her, while she had only one sword. The numerical disadvantage was utterly despairing.
Who would throw someone into such a situation as a training exercise anyway?
Damn Elliot.
Tears of injustice threatened to spill from her eyes.
“Grrrr!”
The lead Desert Goblin was now right up next to Ophelia.
Ophelia raised her sword straight up.
She did raise it, but…
“Ah, ahhh.”
Her teeth clashed together, and cold sweat dripped down her face.
Her hand that gripped the sword trembled violently.
Seeing her, the Goblin smiled widely, as if it saw her as nothing more than pathetic prey.
A tense moment hung in the air.
The Desert Goblin raised its weapon high over its head.
“Damn you…!!”
However, what the leading Desert Goblin overlooked was that Ophelia was a rather emotional woman.
Instead of curling up in fear like other prey, she tightly shut her eyes, took a step forward, and swung her sword.
—Swoosh!
It sounded like a watermelon dropped from the second floor.
Ophelia thought that was the sound of her head bursting open. But there was no pain. As she opened her tightly shut eyes, she was baffled by the sight in front of her.
Her sword had cleanly split the Goblin’s skull in half, embedded up to her chest.
The Desert Goblin fell dead on the spot.
In just one second. The other two Goblins behind it were utterly flabbergasted by the sight of their leader being dispatched with a single strike.
“…”
Of course, Ophelia was just as surprised.
She had just swung once, yet the Goblin had failed to properly defend against her sword and died.
“Uh?”
Normally, when Ophelia made such a pathetic strike, it would be easily blocked and she’d be met with a retaliatory wooden sword to the skull.
Nearly two years of daily swordsmanship training.
During that time, Ophelia’s sword hadn’t even grazed Elliot. The gap in skill between them had been truly despairing.
…
But the Desert Goblin in front of her wasn’t Elliot.
She hadn’t realized it because she had only been swinging her sword with a person like Elliot, who was out of the ordinary…
“I’m… strong?”
Ophelia came to the startling realization that her swordsmanship wasn’t half bad.
Strength through weakness.
The most accurate word to describe Ophelia’s personality.
“… Huh.”
A wicked smile formed on Ophelia’s lips.
*
Dragonkin warrior Laila’s eyes widened.
Saint Ophelia Meredein. To Laila, she seemed like an incredibly frail woman. When Elliot handed her a sword and left her standing alone in front of a Goblin, she even suspected he was trying to kill her.
But as the battle began, Laila had no choice but to revise that thought.
Swoosh.
Thud.
Crack.
“…”
Ophelia fought well.
In fact, exceptionally well.
Regardless of her gender or age, objectively speaking, she was fighting excellently.
Ophelia wielded her sword precisely fitting for battle. Sure, there were some rough edges, but it was clean and targeted only vital points. She alternated thrusts and slashes adeptly, and depending on the situation…
Bam!
Ophelia delivered a low kick. If it had been a typical knight, it wouldn’t have had any effect, but her opponent was a Goblin of similar stature.
With a crunching sound, the Goblin’s leg broke, causing it to lose its balance. Ophelia didn’t miss the chance and accurately plunged her sword into its heart. The Goblin died without even letting out a scream, foaming blood from its mouth.
That was less of a knight and more akin to a mercenary—sticky and persistent.
“Ugh.”
Laila let out a small groan.
Ophelia. That beautiful and benevolent saint wasn’t merely fighting like a saint; she was dismembering the Desert Goblins like a barbaric warrior. Goblin blood splattered everywhere, and her hair was dyed red, yet she seemed utterly unfazed.
She looked less like a saint and more like a demon, even making Laila, who did not believe in any god, feel a sense of betrayal.
Laila was familiar with warriors who fought like that.
A comrade reunited after a long time.
“Elliot.”
“What?”
“Is this your creation?”
“What do you think?”
What the hell…
Laila sighed deeply as she watched Ophelia’s fighting, no, her one-sided slaughter.
“You’ve made a mad dog.”
Was that the kind of response he was hoping for? Elliot’s face beamed with a smile.
*
“Owen, a letter.”
“Leave it there.”
“Oh, and from the administration…”
“I said leave it.”
“Yes.”
The Empire’s Information Bureau.
Hound Owen casually replied, struggling to hide his fatigue.
The stacks of documents before him looked like mountains. As the top agent of the Information Bureau, Owen generally had a lot of duties. But at this point, those duties had increased exponentially.
“Where the hell is that damn Hero?”
The Hero’s Divine Mark.
It had been over two years since the Demon King was revived. Yet, the Hero’s Divine Mark still hadn’t shown itself.
It was unprecedented. All nine previous heroes had been discovered within one year after the revival of the Demon King.
Naturally, the continent’s leaders were in a panic, and all of it fell under the responsibilities of the Information Bureau.
Why haven’t they found the Hero yet? Isn’t it your negligence?
“Shut it! If you’re so concerned, then you go find it!”
Muttering such words, Owen put down the documents.
For the last few days, he had been overusing his mark, leaving his neck sore.
As he stretched his neck, Owen picked up the letter his subordinate had left earlier.
It was likely some nagging letter from the Empire’s administration.
Damn that Evangelin. If she’s so bothered, she should do it herself.
As Owen grumbled, his eyes widened when he saw the sender’s name.
“… Elliot.”
A familiar name.
But now it was treated as a public enemy of the continent.
Kidnapping the Saintess? Was this guy insane? But since his whereabouts were unknown, there hadn’t even been an opportunity to interrogate him.
Thanks to that, Elliot’s priority status was upgraded to first-class, and meticulous investigation had revealed that he had gone south to the Empire, to the Auriga Desert, with the Saintess.
But he never expected a letter to come directly from him.
Owen chuckled dryly as he opened the letter.
The content was simple.
He requested information on the current status of all the Mark Holders across the continent.
Owen frowned.
He’s asking for second-rate information for free. How bold and utterly nonsensical.
“Doesn’t he have any sense of ethics, that bastard?”
Thinking such thoughts, Owen flipped the letter over, and his expression turned serious upon seeing what was written on the back.
At the same time, he let out a deep sigh.
What was written on the back was effectively a list.
A list of eighteen marks registered in the Divine Temple. The names of their holders were written down.
“What’s this now?”
However, how a mere Cathedral Knight named Elliot obtained this information was a mystery. This information was guarded as if it were a second-class secret by the Information Bureau.
Moreover, the whereabouts of the Mark Holders, which Owen had yet to uncover, were also noted. Whether this was true or not was a privilege granted by the divine mark inscribed on Owen’s neck.
A mark of the shadows. Not only collects information but can also discern the truth of that information—divine prerogative.
“There’s no doubt about it.”
Owen had no idea how Elliot obtained such information, but it wasn’t a bad deal.
The list clearly contained the information Owen needed, so an information exchange wouldn’t be a bad idea.
However…
“Elliot, what the hell are you doing?”
Even Owen couldn’t begin to fathom Elliot’s true identity.
And that held true even with the use of the Mark.