HPV 87

A crystal-clear corridor, not a speck of dust in sight.

A shrine painstakingly maintained, a place where gods could dwell.

Leaving behind that sanctuary, the High Priest had been forced to give up countless comforts during this filthy, uncomfortable journey.

Yet he had seen many sights he could never have witnessed within the temple walls.

The sun rising and setting against a canvas of blue sky.

The vivid colors of hot, spicy crawfish stew, freshly baked meat pies, and salads accompanied by floral-scented fruit jams and fresh cheeses.

The view of sprawling farmland from atop a mountain, a sight that made him think, “This must be what it feels like for a god to look down upon us.”

He used to consider these foods unnecessary and had them cleared away when residing at the temple.

Why did they feel so precious now?

Was it because he remembered Riarun’s face, chewing away at them as if he were tasting treasures for the first time?

Yurichen had learned of Riarun’s abuse. From the moment he realized it with his divine insight, it had become his mission.

If he were to leave this world today, someone else would have to take up that mission in his place.

But the mage standing before him now was blocking his way with all his might. Yurichen, lost for a moment in bittersweet emotion, smiled faintly.

“This is why I didn’t want to travel with you. The Mage of lies and deceits. The worst of the Mage Tower. A villain who defies the god Gaioh.”

His next words were so soft and plain that Penzey thought he must be hallucinating.

“Because I would grow attached to you.”

Smiling brightly on the brink of death, Yurichen was now freely giving away words he had never allowed himself to say.

He intended to shed everything and soar away, empty-handed. He would become a bird and fly into Gaoih’s arms.

***

In the original story I knew, there was no mention of someone having to sacrifice their life.

Everything that had happened up to now was similar enough.

Even Yurichen’s exhaustion matched the original—he should have been able to just continue the purification.

Yet, a sacrifice was being mentioned now. I understood. This wasn’t a message for Yurichen. It was meant for me.

The holy sword spoke to me: You, child tainted by another demon—you have something you must do.

While I was thinking that, the High Priest and the mage kept arguing, refusing to back down even an inch.

“Gods are no better than insects. Always needing fresh, young sacrifices.”

Penzey spat.

“Penzey. You’re just angry, that’s all,” Yurichen said calmly.

While the two clashed, while the demon was temporarily restrained, I quietly walked forward.

I reached out for the holy sword lying on the ground.

The man’s eyes rolled sideways to look at me. They widened, bulging grotesquely.

‘…Before Banwes realizes’

I am the cruelest, most deceitful person here.

I have no lofty ideals like Yurichen. I was never made for that.

The moment I lifted the holy sword, a bestial roar exploded around me, rough enough to raise goosebumps.

I didn’t look back. Only then did Penzey notice me—and Yurichen turned his head toward me too.

“Ria, put it down!” I threw up a shield.

Thud!

Banwes’ body slammed into it with an explosive boom but couldn’t reach me.

At the same time, a sound-blocking artifact activated, cutting off both Banwes’ howls and his twisted face from my senses.

If I had met his gaze, my resolve would have broken before his. I barely managed to raise the heavy sword to my eye level.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I am the most selfish and cowardly person here. I don’t have the courage to survive off someone else’s sacrifice.

I don’t want to be hurt by someone else’s sacrifice, so I’m willing to hurt others and disappear instead.

A thought crossed my mind. Would that make me a villain too?

If I hurt my companions and died, would that not also make me a villain?

I had never truly believed in the gods.

Gaioh, Rohin—Even though I knew they were real, I never chose to follow them.

I’ve seen too much cruelty to devote myself to lofty ideals. But just this once, I wanted to ask.

O god, if you have ever so much as glanced at me—Would you accept the sacrifice of such a filthy soul?

Looking at the sword blade, now stained with dragon’s blood, my arms began to tremble uncontrollably.

It would hurt. I was terrified.

I hesitated for one second, then two, trying to ready myself—But my arm moved on its own.

It lifted the holy sword high. Even so, the sword was so long that with my arm’s reach, I couldn’t aim it at my chest properly.

The next moment, my entire body started moving on its own, as if something else were controlling me.

Unable to lift the sword fully above my head, my body quickly found another way.

I turned the sword upside down and drove the hilt into the ground, the blade pointing straight up toward the sky.

The fact that all of this was happening without any conscious decision from me sent a chill down my spine.

And then an unsettling thought crossed my mind—I was so terrified I couldn’t even move a finger, but maybe I had subconsciously brainwashed myself into acting, convincing myself that I must sacrifice myself.

Because a demon wouldn’t be trying to control me to impale myself on the holy sword, right…?

I kicked off the ground. Throwing out my chest, I lunged forward onto the blade.

The cold sword pierced through my flesh and ribs, anchoring itself in my death.

At the brink of death, my senses became uncannily sharp. It was as if I had transcended—I could see the path my life was taking.

The holy sword sucked in the demon clinging inside me, swallowing it whole, and as if savoring it, even devoured the black dragon’s demon as well.

A dazzling light erupted, powerful enough to make me forget the world, the sky, even myself.

***

It was a relief that no one witnessed the strange phenomenon just before the shield collapsed.

Riarun’s head tilted back, the sword spearing through his chest.

His eyes were closed; he had undoubtedly reached death’s door. But his feet remained planted on the ground.

Even without consciousness, his body stood upright, the sword still embedded in him—and then, slowly, his arms moved.

Both hands reached for the middle of the holy sword, gripped it tightly, and gently pulled it out in the opposite direction.

Finally, the fully separated sword fell to the ground with a sharp clang.

With a soft thud, Riarun collapsed backward onto the soft earth.

The monster that had smashed through the protective shield saw him lying there.

Its blood-red eyes, wild with rage a moment ago, now flickered with confusion for the first time.

At the spot where his clothes had been pierced and the sword had entered, Riarun’s chest was perfectly unmarked—spotless.

Yurichen quickly examined the fallen Riarun.

Despite the clear sacrifice, he confirmed what he saw:

“He’s still alive. There’s no wound, but the bloodstains are real. He was definitely stabbed. It must be the work of the Rohin spirit.”

Out of the group, three were able to move, and three were unconscious.

Thankfully, Bzhan had regained consciousness.

“Paronai and Riarun are too weakened. They won’t recover properly out here.”

They needed to return to Gerenique Castle quickly so the wounded could rest.

But the monster barred their way. Banwes had awakened the orc blood within him by his own will, but he could no longer return to his former self so easily.

Still, there was a glimmer of hope. Now that the battle was over, the grotesque swelling of his muscles had begun to subside little by little, and his face was slowly regaining its original shape.

Until his berserk state fully wore off, Banwes couldn’t be allowed back inside the castle.

In the end, they decided to split the group.

“I’ll carry Riarun and Penzey will carry Paronai. We’ll head down first. Bzhan, can you stay here and watch over Banwes and come back later?”

Though Bzhan wasn’t exactly in great condition either, given the situation, there was no better option.

The boy readily agreed.

“As long as you take Riarun safely.”

“…Of course. Don’t worry.”

***

I saw the man’s back as he walked away from me.

I had to explain myself.

Desperately, I hurried after him, trying to catch up—but the distance between us kept growing.

‘Please believe me. I had a reason when I stabbed myself with that sword.’

The truth was, at that moment, I really had intended to die.

I couldn’t bear the thought that, because of me, someone else might die—something that hadn’t happened in the original story.

But now here I was, trying to come up with excuses.

I had called myself a villain and all, but… in the end, I was just a weakling who couldn’t even commit to one decision properly.

‘I wasn’t trying to die. I had a plan. I trusted there was a way.’

The man slowed his steps. Then, grinding his teeth, he spat out one word like venom:

“Liar.”

The fierce accusation stunned me, like I had slammed into a wall. I stood there, frozen in place.

I snapped my eyes open.

My forehead was damp with sweat.

I’m alive…

I was so exhausted I couldn’t move an inch, but the pain was faint.

Was that just a nightmare?

No—it was something that might very well have happened.

I pictured him, disgusted with me, leaving me behind forever.

I forced my body up.

The room around me was familiar—it was the room I used at Gerenique Castle.

But the bed next to mine was completely empty, without a trace of anyone else.

Cautiously, I set my feet on the ground and stood.

I opened the door slightly and peered outside. No one was there.

I walked to Banwes’ door and knocked softly.