Shattered Pride

"Haven't others seen it? How can you be sure this isn't your hallucination?"

"I'm trying to determine if I've gone mad, Your Majesty." The old Sword Saint's tone was heavy.

As the Sword Saint, he possessed a resilient heart.

If things were as the prophecy foretold, and they had found the hero who would draw the Sacred Sword today, then the [Black Robed Prophet] would be real. Otherwise, it meant this old Sword Saint had gone mad from the shock.

Was the Emperor human? Perhaps, but most of the time, he had to reward and punish like a machine.

In other words, if the [Black Robed Prophet] was a subordinate of the Demon King, then his status as Sword Saint would plummet. No one liked a madman.

"Master, do I need to go see En? I used to think he'd die at the hands of some commoner one day, but I didn't expect him to die like a hero." The Emperor's words seemed to carry a hint of mockery, but after all, he and En had shared the same teacher.

En Edwin, despite being a noble, lacked the demeanor expected of one. They were born noble, thus naturally looking down upon commoners with disdain.

Though their personalities differed, the two were friends.

"That is His Majesty's decision. Whether you go or not is unimportant."

The old Sword Saint's memories returned to the day of the ambush on their return journey. A convoy of 2,000 men, the Empire's most elite knights, heavily armored and mounted, so formidable that not even flies dared to approach.

The gradually intensifying rain was as thick as overcooked porridge left to cool and then poured over one's head, but suddenly, a scorching aura and blood-red sword energy tore through the convoy.

They had been attacked by a single individual. When the attack first occurred, they were still in shock, but they quickly realized it was an assault from the demon race.

Even these knights, none escaped. They charged forward with their swords, one after another, towards the enemy, but with each attack, they dissolved into bloody mist, their armor crushed flat.

"Master, I'll buy you time! Can you kill him? We can't go on like this; the Knight Order has suffered too many casualties."

The two fought side-by-side, warily watching the monster before them. If the rain got any heavier, they might not even be able to hear what the other was saying. They had to defeat this enemy faster.

"En, why don't you take the remaining members of the Knight Order and retreat! I'll hold him off. The most important thing now is to bring the Sacred Sword back."

"Master, knights do not retreat."

"I really don't know what to do with you, but be careful."

Sword energy crisscrossed through the muddy road and the chaotic forest. Blow after blow was exchanged, and the blood-infused sword energy was sickening.

Later, the situation became chaotic. Space seemed to condense for a brief moment. He knew his sword had pierced the Blood Demon. He thought it was all over, but the blood of the fallen was converging towards the Blood Demon. The Blood Demon was not dead. At the critical moment, his disciple, whom he was supposed to protect, protected him instead.

"Retreat!" This was the command he issued with all his might. The members of the Knight Order began to scatter and retreat, 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 couldn't be killed, simply couldn't be killed. The opponent seemed fearless of pain, fearless of life and death. Even though he had fought the demon race before, he had never encountered such a powerful opponent.

Finally, he was exhausted and could only hold his disciple in his arms. En's last words were, "Humanity will win, won't they?"

Though it was a question, it sounded more like a firm belief. The old Sword Saint waited for the Blood Demon to decapitate him, his footsteps slowly rising with the sound of water.

"His Majesty the Demon King sends his regards, Sword Saint!" The Blood Demon didn't kill him, more as if it disdained to do so. Its lips curled in contempt, its eyes cold and empty. "When you led the Knight Order to retrieve the Sacred Sword, you caused casualties among the demon race, so His Majesty the Demon King sent me to repay that blood."

"And one more thing, that sword, His Majesty the Demon King doesn't care about it! Your disciple was quite good. Most people wouldn't even leave a corpse after taking one hit from me."

"Who exactly are you!!!" The old Sword Saint, holding his disciple's corpse, glared up at the demon before him.

"My name? I've forgotten. According to the common tongue, you should call me Blood Demon."

"Blood Demon... you're an Apostle!" The old Sword Saint froze on the spot.

He was not dead, nor even seriously injured, but his dignity, his pride, had been utterly crushed.

The Blood Demon left. This Apostle, who only appeared in mythical tales, was now present in the human world.

The rain fell harder, the bone-chilling rain soaking the old swordsman. More than the coldness of his body, his heart felt even more numb.

Facing such a powerful enemy, he saw no chance of victory. But now that he was old, he had virtually no possibility of further advancement. He had almost reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

In his despair, a person in black robes appeared before him out of thin air. Their voice was genderless. "Take on another disciple and pass on everything you know to him."

These words seemed to see through his thoughts. His own talent was insufficient to reach higher heights, so he should find a disciple with outstanding talent and pass on his lifelong learning to them.

The raindrops around them instantly stopped when this person appeared.

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

"Who are you?" Eugene looked up. He, who was already over fifty, now appeared even more aged.

"[Black Robed Prophet], you must remember everything I'm about to say. After you return, immediately select a hero with the Sacred Sword and teach him well. Otherwise, humanity will be annihilated by the demon race. Humanity cannot afford to miss the hero. Before you die, you still have decades to establish a new generation of the Hero Squad. They must be even stronger than the previous heroes!"

Heroes might be born once a century, or perhaps one in a thousand years. In an era without a Demon King, those heroes might have lived their lives peacefully. But now it was different; a new Demon King had appeared in this era.

After speaking, the rain, which had stopped, began to fall again. The [Black Robed Prophet] had indeed vanished from his sight.

He had received crucial information. If he didn't immediately convene the hero selection upon returning to the capital, they would lose the hero.

Would the hero die? But if they died so easily, how could they become a hero?

Many doubts remained in his mind, but everything that had happened today forced him to act. He even suspected that the immense mental shock he had endured had caused hallucinations.

Later, carrying his disciple's corpse, he rejoined the scattered members of the Knight Order. None of them could smile. What was supposed to be a smooth and triumphant return to the Imperial Capital to receive honors had resulted in such severe losses.

More than half of the Imperial Knights had been lost, including the eldest son of the Edwin family. Others didn't even have bodies. Even more astonishingly, the Empire's strongest swordsman had been defeated. A shadow had fallen over everyone's hearts.