Shattered Pride

"Has no one else seen it? How can you be sure it isn't your hallucination?"

"I am trying to determine whether I have gone mad, Your Majesty." The Old Sword Saint's tone was heavy.

As a Sword Saint, he possessed an unyielding heart.

If things truly unfolded as the prophecy foretold, and they found the hero capable of drawing the Sacred Sword today, then the [Black Robed Prophet] was real. Otherwise, this Old Sword Saint had simply gone mad from the shock.

Was the emperor human? Perhaps he was, but most of the time, he had to dispense rewards and punishments like a machine.

In other words, if the [Black Robed Prophet] truly served the Demon King, then this Sword Saint's standing would plummet. No one liked a madman.

"Master, do I need to go see En? I once thought he would die at the hands of some commoner, but I never expected him to die like a hero." The emperor's words seemed faintly mocking, but he and En had, after all, studied under the same master.

Though En Edw was a noble, he did not behave like one. They had been born nobles, so naturally they looked down upon those commoners with contempt.

Despite their differing personalities, the two were friends.

"That is Your Majesty's decision. Whether you go or not is of no importance."

The Old Sword Saint's memories returned once more to the day they were attacked on their journey back. A transport convoy of two thousand men, the Empire's most elite knights—they had heavy armor and horses. Even flies would not dare approach them lightly.

The steadily intensifying rain was as oppressive as cold, overcooked porridge poured over one's head. Yet a sudden scorching presence and blood-red sword aura tore through the convoy.

They had been attacked by a single person. At first, they were stunned, but they quickly realized that this was an assault by the demon race.

Even so, none of the knights fled. They charged the enemy one after another with swords in hand, only to become clouds of blood beneath repeated attacks. Even their armor was crushed flat.

"Master, I'll buy you an opening! Can you kill him? This cannot go on—the Knight Order has suffered too many casualties."

The two fought side by side, warily watching the monster before them. If the rain grew any heavier, they might not even be able to hear each other. They had to end this enemy quickly.

"En, why don't you lead the remaining members of the Knight Order and retreat? I'll hold him back. The most important thing now is getting the Sacred Sword back."

"Master, knights do not run."

"You really leave me no choice. But be careful."

Sword aura continuously clashed across the muddy road and tangled forest. They exchanged blows again and again, while the blood-soaked sword aura made one sick to the stomach.

Later, the battlefield descended into chaos. For an instant, space itself seemed to freeze. He knew his sword had pierced the Blood Demon, and he thought it was over. But the blood of the dead began flowing toward the Blood Demon. The Blood Demon had not died. At the critical moment, the disciple he should have protected instead protected him.

"Retreat!" This was the order he gave with all his strength. The Knight Order's members began scattering and retreating, while he prepared to fight the Blood Demon before him to the death. "I will kill you! No matter what kind of monster you are!"

But what could not be killed could not be killed. His opponent seemed fearless of pain and death. Even though he had fought the demon race before, he had never encountered such a powerful foe.

In the end, utterly exhausted, he could only hold his disciple's body in his arms. En's final words were, "Humanity will win, won't it?"

Though it was a question, it sounded more like conviction. The Old Sword Saint waited for the Blood Demon to cut off his head as footsteps slowly approached through the water.

"The Demon King sends you his greetings, Sword Saint!" The Blood Demon did not kill him, as though he simply disdained doing so. His lips curled in contempt, and his eyes were cold and hollow. "When you led the Knight Order to recover the Sacred Sword, you caused casualties among the demon race. Therefore, the Demon King has sent me to repay blood with blood."

"One more thing. The Demon King does not care about that sword! Your disciple was quite impressive. Ordinary people would not even leave a corpse after taking one of my attacks."

"Who exactly are you?!" The Old Sword Saint held his disciple's corpse in his arms, yet fiercely raised his head to glare at the devil before him.

"A name? I've forgotten it. By the words of this world, you should call me the Blood Demon."

"Blood Demon... You are an Apostle!" The Old Sword Saint froze where he stood.

He had not died, nor had he suffered severe injuries, but his dignity and pride had been trampled to pieces.

The Blood Demon left. This Apostle, who had existed only in myths and legends, had now appeared in the human world.

The rain fell harder, its cold piercing to the bone as it soaked the old swordsman through. Yet compared to the chill in his body, his heart was even more numb.

Before such a powerful enemy, he could not see the slightest chance of victory. But he was already old, with practically no possibility of advancing further. He had nearly reached the end of his path in swordsmanship.

In his despair, a figure in black robes appeared out of thin air before him. Its voice gave no hint of gender. "Take another disciple. Teach him everything you know."

Those words seemed to see through his thoughts. If his own talent was insufficient to reach greater heights, then he should find a disciple of outstanding talent and pass down everything he had learned in his life.

The raindrops around them stopped instantly when this person appeared.

"I believe you have already met an Apostle, but Apostles are not invincible."

"Who are you?" Eugene looked up. Though he was only past fifty, he seemed even older at this moment.

"[Black Robed Prophet]. Remember everything I am about to say. Once you return, immediately use the Sacred Sword to select a hero. Teach him well, or humanity will perish at the hands of the demon race. Humanity cannot miss its hero. Before you die, you still have several decades to establish a new generation of Hero Squad. They must be stronger than any heroes before them!"

A hero might be born only once every hundred years, or perhaps only one would appear in a thousand years. In ages without a Demon King, those heroes might have lived out peaceful lives. But now was different. A new Demon King had appeared in this era.

Once the words were spoken, the rain that had stopped began falling again. The [Black Robed Prophet] had indeed vanished from before his eyes.

He had received a very important piece of information: if they did not hold the hero selection immediately after returning to the city, they would lose the hero.

Could a hero die? But if he could die so easily, how could he become a hero?

He still had many doubts, but everything he had experienced today left him with no choice but to act. He even wondered whether the shock he had suffered was so great that it had caused him to hallucinate.

Later, he carried his disciple's corpse on his back and reunited with the scattered members of the Knight Order. No one could smile. What should have been a smooth and glorious victory, with everyone ready to return to the Imperial Capital and receive honor, had instead ended in such terrible losses.

The Imperial Knights had lost more than half their number. Even House Edwen's eldest son had died, while others had not even left behind corpses. Worse still, even the Empire's strongest swordsman had been defeated. A shadow fell over everyone's hearts.

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