Salvation Through Delusion C123

Chapter 123

“Why?”

I jerked my chin toward the direction the noise had come from.

“The ones who went never came back even after days passed, and now they’re sending additional troops to help. If they’re even pulling soldiers from here, then it must be pretty serious.”

“Uh… well…”

Looks like I’d hit the mark. Rick stared at me, flustered.

“It’s because I nearly died once,” I added flatly.

“Ah, yes…”

Rick still looked unsettled, but I didn’t feel like reassuring him by playing the role of Rue. What was happening at Crystal Lake wasn’t unrelated to me, and it didn’t sit right to just hear updates from afar.

That old habit was still ingrained in me—if an alert about monsters went off, I’d leap out of bed and run, no matter what time it was. So it felt like I should be going too.

If I could at least swing a club, maybe it would ease this sense of debt. Instead, I was supposed to rest comfortably here.

“As long as the monster rift at Crystal Lake doesn’t close, things like this will keep happening.”

Close.

Right now, the key that could seal that rift was hanging around my neck—alongside the club.

But ever since returning from the lake, the blue crystal that fit my hand so perfectly hadn’t responded to anything. It seemed the power of Borhumi’s divine beast was still insufficient.

That tiny pool barely left in the dried lake had felt like a reflection of the divine beast’s condition, and the thought weighed on me.

It’s back home now—so it’s recovering, right? Will it take long?

There was nothing I could do immediately, and the helplessness slowly pressed down on my chest.

“So, Lord Rue, you don’t need to concern yourself with this going forward.”

I knew Rick was drawing a firm line. I should’ve backed off here.

But the question was already on my tongue.

What about me joining the deployment?

That would only earn me ridicule. Swallowing what I really wanted to ask, I let another question slip out instead.

“Other divine beast families aren’t sending support?”

“No.”

The blunt answer startled me.

“Not even the Montaine Grand Duchy? Even just for show?”

“That show ended at the White Branch Council. If anything, we expected the greedy Sarne to make a move on Borhumi’s land—but there’s been no movement.”

Sarne.

I remembered the elderly man from the White Branch Council who’d been moved to tears after confirming his divine beast hadn’t perished. He’d looked incredibly strict.

A question suddenly surfaced. Sarne hadn’t produced a divine beast for generations—so how were they still maintaining power?

Mo answered on cue.

[The Sarne family possessed two Swordmasters.]

Two people like Tyroc? Then why was that past tense?

Right on time, Rick mentioned Swordmasters.

“Sarne has been conserving their remaining Swordmaster. They’ve barely sent them out for monster hunts these past few years.”

I recalled what I’d heard back when I first arrived in Tuvain, at the sanatorium.

“Ah, the Swordmaster of the Kroll region passed away recently. That leaves only three Swordmasters now—but since one has been hidden for a long time, it’s more accurate to say there are only two.”

“The Swordmaster of Kroll…” I began.

“At the start of this year, they failed to recover from their injuries and passed away.”

“Injuries? From monsters?”

Rick glanced around, then lowered his voice.

“That’s what was announced externally. But the truth seems different. It appears they were defeated in combat with someone.”

“Who could possibly beat a Swordmaster?”

Another divine-beast-powered individual?

That thought was wrong.

“We suspect it was another Swordmaster.”

Not Tyroc. The other known one belonged to Sarne—so that left only one possibility.

An unknown Swordmaster.

Rick’s voice dropped even further, lending weight to the theory.

“Sarne has been pursuing someone for a long time. We believe that person may be a Swordmaster. That would explain how Kroll’s Swordmaster was defeated.”

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

Killu greeted his guest politely in the reception room, but the elderly man with the severe expression ignored him and sat down. Used to such treatment, Killu smiled and spoke courteously.

“Was your journey here comfortable, Grand Duke of Sarne?”

“Spare me the pleasantries, Duke Killu.”

The Sarne Grand Duke clearly found even a few words of courtesy distasteful and went straight to the point.

“Let’s talk about Borhumi’s Crystal Lake. You told us to leave it alone? That cunning Kun has occupied Borhumi Castle!”

In the past, Killu would have soothed the man’s temper first. But things were different now. Montaine was the only remaining divine beast family.

So Killu calmly lifted his prepared tea and took a sip. The Sarne Grand Duke’s brow twitched.

Before the man could shout, Killu spoke first.

“So what? They’re nothing more than an empty shell without a divine beast.”

The Sarne Grand Duke’s gaze turned vicious—after all, Sarne was also without a divine beast. Killu smiled apologetically, as if realizing his “mistake.”

“Of course, Sarne’s divine beast will be restored with the Savior’s help.”

That Savior was in Killu’s grasp—the unspoken message was obvious.

“So you’re telling me to sit back and watch?”

“Yes. Just for two months.”

“Explain yourself properly. What exactly are you scheming?”

“If it becomes known that Kun is responsible for Borhumi, then when trouble erupts, that responsibility will cause them to collapse even faster.”

“That sounds like you’re saying trouble will erupt in two months.”

Killu merely smiled, offering no further explanation.

The Sarne Grand Duke glared at him, then brought up a name.

“Did the Savior deliver some prophecy?”

“I’ll only say this—something beyond control will emerge from Crystal Lake.”

Killu’s voice dropped, firm and cold.

“No matter how powerful a Swordmaster Tyroc is, if he confronts it, he’ll be digging his own grave.”

It should’ve been good news—but the Sarne Grand Duke’s expression hardened.

“That also means the damage from the monsters will be severe.”

“There will be some minor sacrifices. But monsters are necessary, and sacrifices have always existed. Isn’t that so?”

Killu spoke as if it were nothing, but the Sarne Grand Duke still looked displeased. Still, the chance to remove Tyroc wasn’t something he intended to block.

“Judging by your confidence, it seems you’ve formed a mate bond with Hoiga of Ma, haven’t you?”

“I’ll accept your congratulations later—while watching Kun Tyroc fall.”

“Don’t underestimate a Swordmaster’s power.”

The Sarne Grand Duke warned him, but Killu only smiled again.

“Swordmasters aren’t invincible. They’re human. Unlike divine-beast users who receive endless power, Swordmasters have limits. That’s why they can lose—and die.”

The Sarne Grand Duke’s eyes turned hostile, and Killu quickly added a hypocritical apology.

“Oh—one of Sarne’s Swordmasters passed away earlier this year, didn’t they? I heard it was due to severe injuries sustained while fighting monsters three years ago. But there’s something I’m curious about.”

“Killu. If you think I’ll answer just because you’re curious, you’re mistaken.”

The Sarne Grand Duke stood, clearly done with the conversation. But Killu followed him and asked anyway.

“I’m not asking about the monster’s identity. Are you truly certain that monster poses no threat now?”

The Sarne Grand Duke froze mid-turn.

“I’ll say it again. Mind your own business.”

“I can’t. If a Swordmaster-level being is still alive, that’s a major variable—whether monster or human.”

“A variable?”

The Sarne Grand Duke scoffed.

“Even if they miraculously survived that injury three years ago, they wouldn’t be functional. Monster or human—it makes no difference.”

Huff, huff, huff…

The Black Bear swung her greatsword nonstop from morning, her breathing rough with exhaustion—yet she didn’t stop.

The repetitive downward strikes were drills beginners practiced, but she performed each motion with utmost seriousness.

One more. Just one more. One more after that.

Even after completing the set routine, she brought the sword down several more times before finally lowering it. Steam practically rose from her body, and her arms trembled violently.

She desperately wanted to collapse, but instead grabbed her canteen and poured water over her head.

Splash.

The cold snapped her mind awake. She pulled off her top, wrung it out, and tossed it onto a rock. She wore only a vest-like undergarment underneath, yet picked up the greatsword again.

As she moved, the garment parted slightly, revealing a long scar running diagonally from her shoulder across her chest. The scar shifted with every labored breath.

“Whew… just a little more.”

She’d already reached today’s quota—but it wasn’t enough. Every day, she had to push past her limits.

That persistence was how she’d reached Swordmaster without a teacher—even if it had taken her until middle age. Because of it, age no longer bound her.

She believed this training would make her stronger again. She had to be—so she could face even stronger enemies.

For that, all she could do was train.

Fortunately, it seemed it would take time before Rue arrived here. Until then, it was the perfect opportunity.

She liked this forest too.

Given such precious time, she had to make the most of it.

Until dawn broke, the only sound echoing through the quiet forest was the swing of her blade.