I Became the Wrong Race

120 – Warlock and Black Knight (8)

Llewelyn thought she had already seen enough devastation.

She believed that she was already used to it, that she could keep her mind sharp as a blade.

And it didn’t take long for her to have that belief shattered.

Llewelyn groaned as she saw the death and pain sprinkled before her.

She was literally started by the sound she had made without realizing it, and she took a moment to compose herself and think.

It was the first time that so many people died so horribly.

‘No, it wasn’t the first time.’

It wasn’t the first time, but I could say it was the first time I got to see it this intimately.

Llewelyn’s eyes slowly scanned the surroundings.

There were dead soldiers in the hallway of the charnel house leading from the entrance.

There were many people who died leaning against walls or barricades, making it seem like the soldier dying at the entrance was the last.

Some of them appeared to be soldiers, while others appeared to be ordinary civilians holding spears.

It was unclear whether they were civilians or soldiers who were not armed in time.

I could tell that he was constantly resisting and trying to overcome difficult times somehow.

Llewelyn looked at their faces.

Those who died horribly had distorted faces, and those who died comfortably were lying with expressions that suggested a terrible loss.

The person leaning against him had his head down with his mouth slightly open, as if he had been panting to the end.

The weapons are broken and piled up on the floor, and the scattered blood hardens and dries.

Llewelyn stopped walking down the hallway and looked at their faces silently.

For some reason, it feels like I can’t forget it, and it feels like I shouldn’t forget it.

He felt a tickling sensation spreading within his chest.

A feeling I used to feel when writing condolences.

A sense that allows a person to gain the power to surpass lifespan and limitations, even if all he does is mourn the death of another person and draw it in his heart.

It was filling Llewelyn. He rarely felt discomfort in his chest.

I always tried to live a simple life. Nothing will change if you think about it complicatedly, and even if it is complicated, you won’t be able to make decisions when it’s important.

So I left it blank on purpose. He repeatedly emptied himself, emptied his thoughts, and judged with his own emotions and a little bit of reason.

But that wasn’t the case now. It is not a situation where you have to empty it to empty it.

Even though I tried hard to empty it, the surroundings were full of it. Llewelyn tilted her head in the right direction and glanced at her dead man.

Faintly dilated pupils, half-closed eyes, trying to close the hole in my stomach with my hand, but failing, making a futile expression.

Llewelyn imagined the man’s last days.

She also reflected on what she would have been like if it were her.

We fought desperately. If she had fought to survive, she would have run away, but she didn’t.

Ironically, the most precious thing to a person is life, but sometimes people decide to throw their lives away and take action.

That is human irrationality and humanity. Human nature exists outside of reason.

Llewellyn made an uncomfortable expression.

“People are waiting.”

Before she knew it, Bal Terok came up to Llewelyn’s side and grabbed her shoulder, bringing her to her senses.

“… “I understand.”

“If you’re watching, you can watch.”

“No.”

What was worth protecting as they burned their lives, regretted it, and suffered pain?

Llewellyn still had an uncomfortable expression on her face as she walked towards the dozens of gazes that were focused on her.

Every body he saw and passed seemed to be looking at his back, so Llewelyn quickened her pace without realizing it.

It was as if the gaze was asking her.

They died, so why didn’t you die?

Even though her imagination was excessive, Llewelyn could not look back at herself.

Because her self-reflection and her self-examination she she were not Llewelyn’s virtues her her her.

She passed through a short hallway, where countless deaths had once condensed like dew on leaves to form the Transcendent.

Here, Llewelyn stabbed a person to death after seeing his past and his regrets.

The feeling from that time still remained in my hand. Llewellyn clenched and uncurled her hand as if she were holding her sword, and entered a wide hollow, where she saw a crowd of people huddled together.

At first she thought she had seen something wrong, but she wasn’t.

People were really crowded there, like bugs and mice.

She didn’t even discriminate between men and women and young and old.

A man who was trying to protect his family even though he knew it was meaningless, a soldier with an injured leg, and a gangster with a good physique were at the front of the group.

Their eyes were wide open and their pupils were blurred. I was in a daze, consumed by fear.

Meanwhile, everyone behind them was in similar despair.

Only then did Llewellyn see things that he had not seen since it was a new continent.

Knowing that she would be killed and that her chances of survival she were slim.

There were many people who wanted to save their children, but knew that they couldn’t, so they came out to die first and foremost.

None of them had any sense of relief or certainty of victory.

There was no solid resolution, not even foolish optimism.

Everyone there knew it. If you fight, you die. There is no option to survive.

Netel, this picture Darker’s world was originally such a place.

A place where families who are starving and unable to eat enough become cannibals to take responsibility for their children.

In the end, it was a barren land where people had to eat people as they belonged to a group of cannibals.

Even those who were more than human barely ate or lived on minimal food.

It was a place where those who were struggling to live but were ugly and unconfident had no choice but to be subjugated and eliminated.

Rich farmland almost did not exist, and if it did exist, it was limited to only a few areas.

Also, such things tend to be held by those in power, so in this land where those in power usually have physical power, we had no choice but to expect them to give.

In that land, Llewelyn saw the people the soldiers desperately protected.

Those who gave up what was most precious to me to protect it. Some of them had died and were scattered here and there in the charnel house.

Was he weighed down by the powerful magic created by the imitation transcendent? These people are stretched out in misery as if they had starved to death.

It could be that his senses were too good to withstand the presence of a counterfeit transcendental person, or he might have actually starved to death.

But most of them were alive.

Llewelyn recalled the dead gatekeeper when Balterok tapped her on the shoulder.

The gatekeeper said. Thanks goodness.

Let’s look at the traces of infiltration into the hallway and the dead soldiers.

Did he not go outside for the last time and lock the door and get out of the way?

Or did warlocks flood the hallway even after he stretched out?

Llewelyn wanted to think of it as the former as much as possible, so he decided to think so.

He fulfilled his duties until the end. Thanks to his struggle, many people survived.

Then I felt a little more at ease.

He didn’t know it, but it was a feeling of debt. A sense of debt that comes from not being able to solve many problems despite his immortality.

He approached people while suffering from unfamiliar sensations.

Just as he approaches, my breath leaks out. It is the sound of barely holding back shock.

Even though there wasn’t much blood on Llewellyn’s body to the naked eye, it was because he had already been in fear for a long time.

It was also a characteristic of those who thought they were prepared for any death, but in reality, they were not.

Llewelyn felt sorry for them.

He was just born and was told that he had found a good land.

Or maybe they came under false accusation, or maybe they were looking for an opportunity, or perhaps they came under orders from the empire.

In the end, it ended up like this. Llewelyn felt strangely uncomfortable.

A feeling of needing to scratch one’s neck and clutch one’s chest.

As I was barely able to control my senses, Valterok approached me.

“The formula of black magic has been engraved.”

“… Yes?”

“Look at them.”

Llewellyn’s gaze turned to the people. There were people who were started by that gray gaze.

Most of them had new scars carved with a knife on their bodies.

A scar that is too elaborate and detailed to be just a scar meant to harass.

There were marks on their wrists and ankles where they had been crushed by chains, and they had blood-crusted patterns all over their bodies.

Llewelyn opened her eyes wide when she saw that.

“… “Skill.”

“It is to maintain the imitation Transcendant. “It must be food or firewood to be thrown periodically.”

The number of people holding their breath at harsh but realistic words is increasing. They couldn’t even talk to those two people.

I was afraid that if I spoke too hastily, I would lose my voice. Llewelyn came to save them, but she felt uncomfortable adding to their fears.

Not anymore. You need to be reassured. What should I do?

Should I laugh? When I read cartoons, I heard that the smiling hero is a symbol of peace and reassures people.

But there is no smile. After all, it’s a cartoon, so how can you laugh in a situation like this?

It was around this time that Llewelyn thought and loosened her fists.

The sound of a sword being drawn was heard.

When I turned my head, Walterok pulled out his sword.

A sword dyed black.

A tool that is engraved with the anti-magic school’s vision of paint and circuitry to block the magician’s use of magic just by piercing it, and makes it easier to apply anti-magic power to the wielder.

At the same time, it was a weapon for execution.

Llewelyn opened her eyes wide and looked at her foot.

He didn’t even give Llewelyn her gaze. She just lifted the sword.

The trajectory of the swing is obvious, but it is not simple just because it is obvious.

It was a sword with 300 years of history engraved on it.

Only then did Llewelyn understand Walterok’s title.

Walterok is a survivor and a massacre.

Survivors are not called survivors simply because they survived.

They are called survivors because they survived after killing someone.

And Balterok was an old monster who survived for 300 years and became the knight commander of the Anti-Demon School.

In other words, it meant that he had survived by constantly killing someone in this land full of strife for 300 years.

A survivor who survived an endless struggle.

That was the other side of Balterok, a massacre.

It was still the same now. He did what he had been doing for 300 years. Swing the sword The beautiful curve that catches the eye is mercy.

The civilians who die from that sword will die without even knowing that they have died.

It is a quick and comfortable death, as if you were dying while asleep.

But.

Llewelyn’s gaze went beyond the sword’s swing trajectory and towards the dead soldier leaning against the wall.

He was a rare soldier who died smiling.

Among the civilians I saw earlier, there was a kid who looked like him.

He sacrificed his life to protect someone.

The sacrifice was valuable, and he was satisfied that his death had saved his son and younger brother, even though he was now dead and would never know.

Without even knowing what was waiting for the little boy who did not know if he was his son or younger brother

This time Llewelyn’s eyes were on her little boy.

I couldn’t recognize it, but there was a magic trick on the kid’s forehead.

A technique that Llewelyn, who is not a wizard, does not know. However, just because the inscription was engraved, Walterok accepted it as a potential threat.

That’s true in reality too. If you think about what would happen if a human with a spell engraved on it fell into the hands of a warlock.

Killing is right. Killing is mercy.

They won’t be at peace as long as they live, and they have to worry about when the spell will activate.

All it took was for a warlock who happened to be passing nearby to detect the spell.

Also, just because the warlock couldn’t suppress his boredom.

They will either become living bombs or become imitation transcendental offspring and kill countless humans.

So Walterok was trying to kill them.

It was unreasonable.

None of them committed a crime.

The soldiers sacrificed their lives thinking that if they sacrificed themselves, they would be safe.

Does it all have to go in vain?

Llewelyn didn’t like that.

The fact that their lives are being wasted in vain, and the attitude of taking it for granted.

The irrationality that this world has taken, overturning the natural.

I didn’t like it.

If it were me, if it were the power I had.

Also, I thought it might be okay if it was a refuge within the pantheon where mixed-blood vampires resided.

Not sure. It’s uncertain. If anything is wrong, something can go wrong.

But Llewelyn believed not in her own strength but in everyone who helped her. Even if it was far-fetched, she felt that it was her job to make better choices for a better future.

The choice has been made. Llewelyn let out her breath.

The sword is swung. Draw a long trajectory. Anti-magic attribute has no shape. However, the anti-magic power that arose around the sword rebels against the magic power and creates a change.

Because it is such a tool.

The change becomes an invisible slash that tears through space. A skilled warrior could block, repel, or withstand it.

Yang Min does not have that kind of power. If he gets hit, he dies.

The trajectory was targeting all humans with precise spells engraved on them.

Llewellyn’s breath heated up.

My heart was racing. The pounding, resounding heartbeat fills the surroundings.

The mortality that had been writhing in his heart is in his hands

It was not simply a power that touched life and death.

Llewelyn’s mortality interfered with the magic flowing through space and the world.

Llewelyn’s head was dizzy as information came to mind.

Mourning boosts her physical abilities. Defense naturally increases.

Adds proficiency to parry and defense.

Fighting skills and dragon slaying. Increases defense to the fullest with added proficiency.

What you need is perfect defense. Although the game system is applied clumsily, it works to some extent.

Llewelyn’s hand his, a hand swung like a dragon’s claw, met the sword strike.

Kaa!

A loud noise and a shock wave erupt that causes the cloak that Llewelyn has wrapped around her body to fly. The civilians who couldn’t even see the sword attack were scared and held their breath.

Surprisingly, no one died.

People looked at the two monsters with bewildered faces.

A being who chose to become a monster and a being who constantly made humane choices to be human despite being a monster.

Just as Walterok was deflecting his own sword strike, he was pushed back by Llewelyn’s kick and took two steps back.

The scabbard carved in the very center of her armor was clearly visible.

He ran his hand over the mark and then raised his head.

“What is your intention?”

Llewelyn stands with her legs crossed.

He looked in disbelief and opened his mouth.

“This is my choice.”

There are times when your will becomes stronger and your thoughts become more organized while speaking.

Llewelyn thought she was still the same now. He was finally able to put his will into her mouth her her her her.

“As long as I’m here, no one will die.”

Balterok smiled for the first time in a long time, looking at such a man.