CHAPTER 32: I FEEL SICK

’Too big.’

In the inn room, Dante’s eyes widened as he saw the baron’s house through Fafnir’s eyes.

It was larger and more durable than the other houses, with a metallic wall surrounding it and archers observing everything in nearby small towers.

’Is this what manors look like?’

Dante had seen more majestic buildings through Fafnir’s memories in the Dragon Palace, but seeing something directly and through a memory were never the same.

Seeing this, Fafnir threw his sword away and turned into a shadow. The monsters still followed him in that form, but his presence became barely noticeable for normal humans.

"The monsters are here!"

"Get ready!"

The archers, as if expecting them, rained the monsters using colorful elemental arrows.

Fafnir ran to a corner and hid in darkness, watching the archers kill the monsters easily.

After finishing off all of them, a gate on the wall opened wide. A few knights came out of it, wearing strange masks over their faces, and they...

’No way...’

The knights opened the villagers’ skulls one by one, harvesting their cores like animals.

"Hoho, I got a dagger relic."

"Tsk, lucky bastard."

"Shut up and gather all the cores, I don’t want to get punished by the lord again."

"Watch out, idiot! My mask almost fell because of you! I almost inhaled this cursed mist!"

They laughed and joked in front of the corpses as if it was nothing.

Dante and Fafnir couldn’t believe their eyes.

’Are they... happy?’

The knights were truly, truly happy while harvesting the villagers.

They were prepared for the monsters, wore masks that covered even their ears, and weren’t affected by the sight of the dead.

Dante understood why the baron didn’t want to fix the mist problem.

’He is taking advantage of the calamity! Bastard! Truly a bastard! Is it all for cores?’

One thousand.

That was the amount of required cores to advance in ranks.

The number was truly big for only one person. Dante didn’t even know how many months or years would he need to collect all of them when he didn’t even see a single Rank 1 beast in the past few days.

But what if there was a way faster than finding rank 1 beasts?

In this village, there were hundreds or thousands of weak, untrained, starving Rank 1 villagers. They all had cores ready for harvesting.

Of course, the baron couldn’t just kill his people—that would cause some problems.

But what if there was a strange phenomenon that could turn them into monsters?

The answer was simple—he would get an excuse to kill them.

’Did the mist even come out of nowhere? What if it was his doing?’

Thinking about that, Dante couldn’t help but grit his teeth violently.

A moment later, a bulky man came out of the gate, not bothering himself with wearing a mask.

The man had long golden hair and a thick golden beard. He wore golden armor with a cape on his upper body and moved toward the knights with visible pressure.

The knights trembled under his golden gaze as they all fell to their knees and looked down.

"We greet Lord Ash!"

’Ash?! Is this him?’

Ash, the baron and the ruler of this village, looked coldly at the knights: "Any relics?"

"Y-yes!"

A few relics of various shapes and forms fell before Ash, but he didn’t show a hint of emotion as he simply touched them and they turned into thousands of sparkling particles.

The baron absorbed all of them indifferently, focusing on the knowledge he was receiving.

A moment later, the baron sighed as he looked disappointed.

"Did anyone enter the village today?"

One of the knights nodded:

"Yes, a strange group of a blind boy, a blind girl, two people clad in armor, and a vampire. In addition to them, there were two frost elves."

"I confirmed myself that they all are Rank 1 except for only one of the elves. He is the only threat for your highness."

All of a sudden, Ash gritted his teeth as he gripped the knight’s neck and raised him with one hand.

"My... lord!"

"Threat?" The baron clenched firmly: "You think a mere Rank 2 elf can be a threat for me?"

"I-I woul—!"

Crack!

The baron’s grip tightened, shattering the knight’s neck and killing him instantly before throwing him into the other corpses. The other knights trembled, but no one dared to raise their heads.

"Pathetic."

The next moment, Ash went toward the corpses and extended his hand, his scleras turning black.

All of a sudden, a surge of golden energy burst out of his hand, coating all the corpses for a few seconds before returning.

"Tsk, not enough." Ash looked with disgust at the corpses, now drained of all their vitality, before returning to his guarded manor.

Dante and Fafnir were left speechless, looking in a daze at Ash’s straight back.

’What the hell have I just witnessed...?’

He was wrong.

The baron wasn’t aiming for cores, but for relics and corpses.

The baron knew about Dante and the others, including their ranks!

The baron killed one of his own knights with one hand for no damn reason!

And lastly...

’He was the one absorbing the corpses’ vitality, and that energy...’

Dante recognised what he did—it was something Dante wanted to try but was scared of the consequences.

’He is a demon.’

From Fafnir’s memories, Dante knew about an innate ability he had.

He could drain the vitality of the others—even if dead—to increase his Demonic Energy, and slightly increase his Vitality.

The dragon elder told Fafnir never to try increasing his demonic energy, thus Dante didn’t use it even when he had a chance.

His demonic energy was already his highest stat. Increasing it anymore might be dangerous.

Although the color of Ash’s demonic energy was different for some reason, the effect was the same.

’But how?’

How did a demon become a baron? How did he make the knights obey him? How was he hiding his identity?

’What should I do now?’

Although he expected to encounter a demon because of his bad luck, he didn’t expect it to be too soon.

So, what now?

’Should I run?’

He didn’t want any trouble with a demonic baron and a bunch of knights. If they saw him as a threat and decided to strike, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He had to run.

But what about the villagers? Would he simply leave them to become food for the demon?

’Well, I have no other choice.’

It wasn’t like he could just fight the baron and wish he would win.

But even if he decided to run, would he be able to do that? Weren’t there some villagers who had tried and failed?

Just then, the image of the group that was with him flashed in his mind.

’Right! I can just tell them about that!’

Weren’t they a saintess and two holy knights? Even if the word *holy* was only coming from their kingdom’s name, they must be hating demons.

If his parents, two great dragons, were executed because of some demonic blood, then the baron that was killing his own people shouldn’t be spared.

If he made the baron focus on them, he could leave the village secretly.

’But this will have to wait until morning.’

Unfortunately, he didn’t know where they were now nor was this a perfect time to visit them.

Looking at the green mist, Dante decided to do some help, at least.

’Fafnir, kill as many monsters as possible and take their cores—we won’t let the baron’s knights take them or give them a chance to obtain relics. And put the people’s lives as your priority.’

Hearing his master, Fafnir quickly went to the edge of the village, where the majority of the homeless people gathered.

During the night, Fafnir kept killing monsters and saving people. The number of the monsters was now significantly less, and the mist seemed to be losing its green color.

Of course, Dante didn’t just keep watching.

He trained in his room, improving his control over his energies and practicing with the sword he had, knowing that Fafnir would mirror everything he learned.

He also made a few spells.

Shadow Spell — Fireball!

A simple spell to launch a small fire ball. It drained more mana and spiritual energy than the bolt, but it had greater explosive power.

Shadow Spell — Shadow Flash!

It was the spell that blinded Dante, but now, it wouldn’t affect the caster and would blind a wider area.

Unfortunately, it didn’t affect the mist monsters for some reason. Maybe they weren’t using the light to ’see’.

Shadow Spell — Shadow Ray!

A black ray of shadow, strong enough to pierce a monster’s head and almost shatter its core. It was made by mimicking the light spell, Light Ray.

One fire spell and two light spells. Using them alongside his sword, Fafnir didn’t stop fighting for a single second.

Unlike Dante, he didn’t have to rest as he technically had infinite stamina, and he didn’t have to worry about using demonic energy as he was just a shadow.

’Maybe being a shadow isn’t that bad.’

Eventually, the light of sunrise arrived, cleaning the air of the last traces of the mist.

Before the people could go out to see the horrifying sight, Dante opened his window, allowing his shadow to enter with a small bag and a bloody sword.

He quickly closed the window and stored the bag and the sword, not even bothering to look at the cores.

’39.’

That was a really big number, and that wasn’t even the number of monsters Fafnir had killed.

He wasn’t the only one fighting monsters, so whenever someone helped him, he’d leave the core to them. And whenever he had to run, he’d leave all the corpses and their cores behind.

There were also corpses of... kids. They didn’t have cores.

Still, the number was really significant. Usually, Dante would be so happy about that, but this time was different.

’I feel sick.’

Those weren’t simply some beasts—but real dead people. Dante had just done almost the same thing that the baron did.

The difference was—he did that to save people, and the cores were going to be wasted or fall into the knights’ hands if they were left alone.

’I did the right thing... Yes, I definitely did.’

Though unfortunately, he hadn’t got a single relic. Or maybe he got one when Fafnir had to run, but he couldn’t just go back and touch everything there.

The villagers finally left their houses, cleaning the place of corpses and searching for cores.

After days of the first encounter with the mist, they were used to this. Tens or even hundreds of dead people were nothing now.

Some of them even wondered if that was for the best. If hundreds of villagers died, wouldn’t the survivors have more resources in this abandoned village?

Dante left the inn, asking about the nearest inns to find the saintess and the knights.

In his path, he was forced to stop and stand silently, his eyes fixed on two heads rolling across the cold ground.

His gaze landed on their lifeless eyes, remembering the hope they contained the last time he saw them.

’...I feel sick.’