Luce, eyes wide open, stammered as he continued. "Are you saying the ritual here... failed...? Is that right...?"

Is that the part that surprised him the most?

Ian, with a slight chuckle, nodded. "That’s right. At best, it was a partial success."

The ritual, prepared by contaminating the essence of divinity, wasn’t just to summon a swarm of locusts. The corrupters of Drenorov likely intended to summon the avatar of an ancient god or a similar being to this land—something like that entity beyond the darkness in the vision.

They might have succeeded if they had completely contaminated the essence of divinity. Then, priests like Stephan would have transformed into something far more formidable than those bug-like creatures. Of course, there was no need to explain all this in detail. After all, the ritual in Drenorov had ended in failure.

Looking around the ruined streets, Luce sighed. "If this is what a partial success looks like, then where the ritual succeeded must be..."

"Even more horrific."

"Oh, my... Lu Solar..." Luce muttered in a daze.

He ran a trembling hand over his face and murmured. "W-we need to inform the central command. The West is a food production area and a crucial strategic point connecting the Black Sea, the Black Isles, and the inland sea. The church will respond immediately. Perhaps even the royal family will... no, they certainly will—"

"That’s for you to figure out," Ian replied indifferently, turning his gaze to the gates of the castle that had just come into view ahead. "We’re going our own way."

"Your own path...? Are you saying you’ll leave Drenorov?"

"Why is that so surprising?"

"W-well..." Luce looked ahead.

The scenes they had passed were terrible, but this area was gruesome. Buildings were reduced to ruins, corpses writhing all around. The firmly closed city gates were half-covered by the piled-up dead. It was clear they had swarmed the gates and tangled together. Drenorov would need a very long time to recover from today’s tragedy. It might never return to its former state.

Luce barely spoke. "... If you guys stayed to help rebuild the city, you would give hope to many."

"But the places where the rituals succeeded will become demonic realms. Those realms will expand and eventually engulf the West. Drenorov will not be an exception."

"...!"

Ian’s indifferent response made Luce finally realize they were not planning to leave the West.

"So, you’re going to stop it? Like you saved this place...?"

"Save it? Hardly..." Ian scoffed softly and added, "Our destinations just happened to coincide."

Because quests and rewards awaited.

Of course, Luce clearly didn’t take Ian’s words at face value. He looked at Ian with a mix of surprise and reverence, then blinked and continued speaking. "Of course, I know you are great heroes. But it’s too dangerous. It would be better to wait for the church’s paladins and join them in the hunt..."

"You keep talking like it’s a dream. Stop with the nonsense." At Ian’s scolding words, Luce’s lips only moved slightly.

Philip, who had expected this rebuke, laughed quietly and spoke up. "As the priest says, the church and the royal family will probably respond immediately. The fact that the corrupters revealed themselves in imperial territory demands a swift reaction. But even so, by the time reinforcements from the central command arrive, it will be too late. Irreversibly so."

"How... can you be so sure...?"

"Think about it. Did the corrupters not know that their actions would make them targets for extermination? They knew. And yet they were confident. Confident that by the time central reinforcements arrived, their plan would already have succeeded."

Finally, the innocent priest’s face turned from pale to ashen. Struggling to breathe, he asked, "What... what is their goal? Is causing death and chaos their only purpose?"

"Yes. They aim to turn the entire West into a land of death, covered in corruption and disease. The corrupters would gain immortality and wield immense power in this land."

"Oh, Lu Solar..."

"But it’s not too late. The ritual has just begun, and the entire West hasn’t been corrupted yet. So, we can still stop it. That’s why our lord here said what he did, right, my lord?"

Receiving Philip’s gaze, Ian chuckled softly. It was clear that Philip was pleading for confirmation, having lost some of his own certainty.

"The barrier can be broken, and the demonic realm can be closed. The void beings are not invincible. Even if they can’t be killed, they can be sent back to where they came from. So..."

As Ian strode toward the pile of corpses near the city gates, he added, "Remember this well, priest. You owe us for saving your life."

"...?" Ignoring Luce’s puzzled expression, Ian began to clear the piled bodies, making a path.

The dead only twitched weakly, no longer capable of resistance. Philip quickly followed suit, adding, "Most of the corrupters here were priests, weren’t they?"

"...!"

"We need as much information as you can provide about their past, the priests they communicated with in other cities, and which cities in the West could host such rituals. This will be crucial in saving the West."

With that, he joined Ian in clearing the bodies, carefully moving the dead while Ian tossed them aside without hesitation.

Watching them, Luce finally spoke. "I will do my best to help. Not just to repay your kindness, but because it’s the only way I can assist you. Perhaps this is why I survived. Once things are settled, I’ll return to the church and search everywhere for clues we might have missed."

His voice carried a sense of duty.

Ian, tossing another corpse aside, looked back at him. "Alright, then come and help with this."

"... Ah, yes." Feeling sheepish, Luce approached cautiously.

Despite his grand words, he seemed hesitant to touch the twitching corpses.

Typical of priests.

Ian chuckled softly and turned to Philip. "You’ll help him search when the time comes. Scrounging for things is your specialty, isn’t it?"

"Thanks to your excellent teaching, my lord. I’ll do it."

Rumble—

At that moment, the gates began to open. Ian and Philip paused, watching as soldiers pushed the gates open from either side. A familiar silhouette appeared in the center of the opening.

"...?!" Mev’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected to run into them immediately upon opening the door.

Ian gave a short laugh when he saw her. "You look quite a sight."

Mev’s condition was just as much of a mess. Her originally red hair was one thing, but her face and uniform were covered in now-dried dark red blood. Instead of responding to Ian’s joke, Mev looked back at the soldiers. The soldiers who had opened the door quickly cleared away the corpses blocking the entrance.

They’re certainly disciplined.

Ian’s lips curved up further.

Well, if they had seen her fight up close, it couldn’t be helped.

As she approached, Mev spoke, "Sorry I couldn’t get to the church. I tried my best to finish the situation and join you, but—"

"No need to explain. I already have a rough idea. So, what about the lord and Sharon?" Ian cut her off.

Mev hesitated as her expression hardened. "That’s part of why I’m late. Char, no, Sharon was injured."

"What...?!" Ian’s smile faded, and Philip, eyes wide, frowned deeply.

"But Sharon shouldn’t have been matched by anything here..."

"That’s what I thought. But suddenly, an ominous power grew stronger, and creatures with tentacles all over their bodies began pulling the surrounding undead, growing larger. They started spewing toxic breath. I couldn’t leave it to the soldiers. So..."

"... You and Sharon took them all on," Ian finished.

Mev nodded, and Ian clicked his tongue.

It was clear when this change had occurred. As the corrupters transformed into void beings and the mycelium spread, the city’s undead must have also gained strength. The piles of bodies at the gate likely had merged and then separated.

"Where are they now?"

"In a safe place, with the lord."

"Lead the way." Ian, standing on the remaining corpses, turned to the hesitant Luce. "Follow us. You’ll need to report everything to the Count. You too, Philip."

With that, Ian quickened his pace.

***

Mev led Ian to the outskirts of the city wall, where a shantytown had formed. Survivors, both soldiers and civilians, were busy dealing with the scattered undead. Whenever they saw Mev, they stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads.

"Welcome, Sir Ivan. We’ve been expecting you." An attendant approached them.

He appeared to be the newly appointed steward.

Following closely, he continued, "The Count is waiting. This way, please—"

"Get your report from these two." Ian, without even looking, directed his gaze at Philip.

Philip nodded and led Luce to follow the steward. They headed to a shack guarded by several soldiers. Mev walked toward another nearby shack. Several soldiers and one attendant stood at its entrance.

"Let no one in until I call," Mev ordered coldly.

The attendant bowed and stepped aside. Mev opened the door without delay, and Ian followed her inside.

"...! This...!" Thesaya, who had been sitting by the worn-out bed, sprang to her feet when she saw Ian. She didn’t finish her sentence as Ian pressed his index finger to his lips. Like Mev, Thesaya’s face bore the marks of battle and was deathly pale.

"How is she?" Ian asked as he approached the bed.

Thesaya, holding her breath, spoke as if she had been waiting for this moment. "Not good. I can’t tell if it’s poison or a curse. I tried channeling magic into her, but it didn’t work. What should we do, Ian? At this rate, our kitty—"

"Stop the dramatics, elf..." Charlotte’s low voice interrupted.

Thesaya turned to her, looking like she was about to cry.

Charlotte looked up at Ian as he approached, licking her dry lips. "I am ashamed. It happened again..."

"That’s obvious," Ian muttered as he examined Charlotte’s condition.

There were numerous scratches and bite marks on her neck, arms, and sides. The deepest wound was on her side, a mark from a large tentacle, radiating a cursed energy. These were injuries she wouldn’t have sustained if she had been wearing armor. Fortunately, on her opposite side lay the Broken Sword of Judgment. It might have reached its limit in neutralizing the curse with Tir En’s divine power, but it was at least slowing the spread of the curse.

"You really gave it your all," Ian said as he removed the glove from his right hand.

Mev continued, "Thanks to her, we were able to minimize civilian casualties. If it weren’t for Charlotte, at least half of them would be dead."

"This foolish cat wouldn’t let me come. She said if I left, the defensive line would collapse, so she tried to handle it alone." Thesaya added, to which Charlotte scoffed.

"I told you not to come because you’d just get in the way with your skills, idiot."

"... Judging by the fact that you’re still talking, you won’t die," Ian said as he placed his now bare right hand near Charlotte’s side.

The Swamp’s Resentment, which had been coiled around his fingers, returned to its snake form and fell onto the wound, starting to suck out the curse.

"Just as I hoped. It’s working."

"Does that mean she’ll be alright? She’ll live?" Thesaya asked, eyes wide with hope, completely ignoring Charlotte’s muttering to stop killing on her own whim.

"Probably. She’s lucky." Ian reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out all five of Della Lu’s Graces, which he had pretended to put away in his robe earlier.

"I guess I owe Della Lu another thank you."

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