CHAPTER 43: FINAL STRUGGLE [4]

’As expected, only the minimum amount of force was used at that time. Seeing that this level of power can be generated even though it’s a temporary contract... my guess may be right.’

Currently, my body was in a state where complex strengthening magic consisting of multiple spells overlapped. In terms of pure physical ability, I was not inferior to a 5-star knight.

But despite that, it was difficult to even follow him with my eyes, let alone react.

Even considering that I was exhausted both physically and mentally, I once again felt that the power of the being called "Evil" was completely beyond common sense.

’The good news is that Dullahan is stronger than I expected. However, he is currently under a temporary contract without revealing his true name. In other words, it’s only half of his original power—he can use only a portion of it. Even if it seems close now, the balance will soon break. To defeat that monster...’

In the end, I could only pray that my guess was correct.

In the end, it was up to me to finish it anyway.

"Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die."

Despite the overwhelming difference in power, Dullahan and Evil continued their fierce battle.

Dullahan swung his sword with minimal movement, as if reading every one of Evil’s storm-like attacks.

Elegant and restrained swordsmanship.

It seemed more like formal etiquette than combat.

A movement so graceful and awe-inspiring that it felt almost magical to witness.

However, the tightly maintained balance soon collapsed.

The level of Dullahan’s swordsmanship was overwhelmingly superior, but the difference in raw power was far too great.

Once the balance broke, it crumbled uncontrollably. If it weren’t for Dullahan’s nature as a near-spiritual being, it would have been impossible to endure this long in the first place.

Every time the Headless Horseman swung his sword, his silver hair fluttered. To be precise, the head he held in his hand moved.

It was undeniably a grotesque sight, but for some reason, I didn’t feel disgusted.

Rather...

I thought it was beautiful.

I looked at his back and murmured quietly,

"The First Knight of the Holy Empire."

Now a forgotten knight of ruin, a remnant of a time long buried in history.

Although I couldn’t hear his voice, I could tell he was deeply agitated.

’... A pure white shield engraved on the armor.’

It was the emblem symbolizing the Holy Empire. And the words engraved on his sword—

Ⅰ. Go dtí an chéad chlaíomh den Impireacht le meas agus le meas.

Paladin Ilya.

"―Paladin Ilya."

The moment I spoke his name, white light erupted from his body.

A blinding white flash covered the entire area.

After a while, what appeared was a white knight riding a pure white horse. His armor, sword, and horse—everything he had—had turned completely white.

Like a butterfly shedding its skin, his entire form radiated elegance, as if he had finally revealed his true self.

Nevertheless, the fact that his race was Dullahan still did not change.

The head he held in his hand clearly proved that. However, I felt as though I could no longer call him a monster.

In some ways, it was truly ironic for me—a black magician—to think this...

Because he was holier than any being I had ever encountered.

He was so noble and beautiful that he couldn’t even be compared to that damn woman who called herself a saint.

So much so that I was completely captivated, staring blankly.

He was so elegant that it inspired nothing but awe.

Eyes like the deep sea gazed at me. The nobility in those cold eyes was undeniable.

He opened his mouth.

"Ó Dhia, an raibh grá agat dom fós."

A hymn.

A soft voice, like an angel singing, echoed through the air. At the same time, his sword shone brightly.

I knew what that energy was—because it was so intense that even I, an apostle of the Demon God, instinctively flinched.

Eden’s voice, filled with astonishment, came from behind me.

"...My, what am I looking at? The monster Dullahan is using holy magic? No way..."

Divine power.

A sacred blessing granted only to those who receive divine favor.

Even though he defied nature and became a monster, his god still loved him.

Even if people said he was a ghost of the past, twisted and ugly because he couldn’t let go of life—

Still, I was in awe.

No matter what form he took, he was still a knight.

They say that God does not expect anything in return for loving believers—just as parents do not expect anything in return for loving their children.

As long as you worship me, I am your god. As long as you love me, I am your parent.

It was as if the light itself was whispering those words.

---

This completes the final puzzle.

’I never thought I’d actually use divine power...’

To be honest, I was skeptical.

Even if he was a knight who used divine power when he was alive, isn’t he now a monster who remains in the present world through unclean methods?

No matter how rare a monster Dullahan is, probably no one has ever seen this phenomenon.

To put it bluntly, the situation was no different from a priest practicing black magic or a Christian reciting Buddhist scriptures.

It was a miracle that could never have happened if he hadn’t been from the Holy Empire and I hadn’t found out part of his true name.

’Honestly, it was closer to gambling.’

Naturally, I didn’t know his identity from the beginning.

All I thought was that he was a very famous knight during his lifetime.

I also felt like I had seen the shield pattern on his armor somewhere before.

However, he had a unique aura that was difficult to describe.

Despite his bizarre appearance, carrying his own head, he somehow exuded elegance.

Also, his voice made even me—someone who was contracted to a demon god and had never seen an angel—think, "Is this what it would feel like to hear the voice of an angel?"

Thanks to that, I was able to think of him once again at a time when I desperately needed someone who could use sacred magic.

Even though it was close to a reckless gamble, I was able to think of the possibility.

To be honest, the only letters I could read were "Paladin" and "Ilya," and even those were not clear, so I struggled a lot in that split second.

Did I read it correctly? And if I was wrong, how would the situation unfold in the future?

Letters were carefully engraved on the blade of the sword.

It appeared that the person who made this sword had written it for the one who would become its owner.

I guessed that there would be a hint related to his true name there, and fortunately, I was able to find out part of it.

’... It’s still too early to be reassured. Although it is said that sacred magic can be used, it’s only a temporary state. With only half of his true name and a temporary contract, he won’t be able to properly use even a tenth of his original power.’