Knights and Magic Wand

"...My heart is sincere... may you protect me... in the brilliance of your light, may my heart be as steady as a rock..." Lokhak stumbled through the prayer in his heart, sometimes unable to remember a segment, he could only mumble through with other vague words of prayer.

He wasn't lacking in devotion, nor did he disbelieve Leon's warnings; it was just that his level of education made it impossible to memorize the lengthy chants recited by the Church priests.

During collective prayers in the past, he only needed to follow the leader and didn't have to remember everything—after all, the future he had envisioned for himself was merely to become a soldier in Rolannar City like his father, not to aspire to one day become a Church clergy spreading the faith.

The youth picked out the inconspicuous broken rock from the rubble, his mind grumbling, could this thing really be of any use?

It wasn't that he doubted its use, but the eerie and sinister surroundings gradually made him anxious, and the stories of this place ran through Lokhak's mind over and over.

What used to be folk tales to fool children now troubled the boy deeply.

Legends told of countless greedy thugs craving the treasures of the Cursed Land, but whether it was an ambitious king, a noble and brave knight, or a greedy and cunning explorer, in the end they all got lost in the terrifying Despair Plain and never returned to the world.

Even in some special versions of the stories where a protagonist managed to return to the world with the treasures, those who came back, no matter how brave and noble they were before, were no longer the same upon their return.

Without exception, they would fall into corruption, becoming evil beings cursed by their own doing. That's why the fictitious plain used as the setting in those stories was called the Cursed Land.

Amidst his palpitations, Lokhak looked up at Leon, who was sketching something on the ground not far away, and felt a little reassured.

If it hadn't been for this companion, whom he'd met in a cage, he might still be wearing shackles and being herded like cattle, or he might have been beaten to death by a slave master in some reckless struggle.

Although he was still in danger, he believed that this miraculous companion must have a way to get through this difficult time...

...But even if we get out, what then?

Lokhak frowned involuntarily.

Looking at the meaningless rock in his hand, the youth's heart... suddenly filled with intense revulsion...

...Yes, I survived, but what about my sister?

The tragic scenes he had witnessed in that village recently haunted the youth like a nightmare.

The remains of a young girl, violated and killed by thugs; that cruel scene cut into Lokhak's psyche like a knife's edge.

In a trance, the face of the pathetic girl seemed to morph into his sister's visage.

The decapitated head of a male corpse, rolling on the ground, turned into his father's face, that painful, twisted visage, with decaying eyes full of profound disappointment...

I escaped from Kantadar, and I left my sister all alone in the hands of those beasts!

How much longer until I can find my sister?

Is she still alive?

How much longer can she survive in the hands of those bastards?

Ashamed, Lokhak hung his head, unable to hold back the tears that were welling up...

It's just me now...

His body suddenly felt the familiar warmth of an embrace.

The youth looked up blankly, seeing his mother's gentle face.

"...Don't cry anymore, my dear Little Wild Horse... my brave child..." His mother affectionately called out his childhood nickname, looking at her child with caring eyes.

"...Mom... Mom..." Lokhak closed his eyes, embracing his mother ardently.

The jarring sound of mocking laughter frightened him as he opened his eyes in terror.

He suddenly felt himself falling, as countless hands reaching out from the darkness dragged his mother into the abyss. His closest kin were violated before his eyes, their mutilated bodies carved by the thugs' blades...

Lokhak roared in fury, but his open mouth emitted no sound.

...Everything... quieted down...

The youth stared blankly at his sister in front of him.

His bloodstained kin stared at her brother with a piteous smile.

"You're the only one, scraping by... why? Lokhak~... why didn't you save me...."

Within his blood-red vision, only that figure stood out so strikingly, so hatefully...

Yes, it was him...

It was he who was hindering your rescue...

No... no... he... he's always been... helping me...

The youth's face twisted horribly in his struggle.

...Because he needs your help, he's so hypocritical... He just needs you to work for him~... and you, you're just a coward given a false reason to cling to life by him...

...No! I'm not! I'm not....

The girl, covered in scars, embraced him from behind, her beautiful and gentle face whispering softly into his ear:

...Prove it to me, my dear brother...

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"Saint Sol above, we bow our heads in worship, your light shines like a torch, gracing all beings... At the dawn of heaven and earth, the mother of all creatures... We pray for the Holy Sun to cast its gaze upon us, bestow wisdom, grant courage... By the command of Illaril, bring down your kindness, and shelter us... May your radiance forever cleanse our souls, guiding us in innocence, clarity, and purity as at the beginning, all the way to Heaven..."

Azeryan recited the Church's prayer with practiced ease, while deftly searching the rocky creek bank for the green stones Leon had described.

Although he had no idea what purpose gathering these stones served, he dared not slack off in his efforts; after all, everyone's hope of escaping this sinister forest now rested on Leon's shoulders.

After two inconceivable brushes with death, Azeryan, although he avoided speaking of the power his companions displayed, was inwardly convinced that Leon must be a Wild Mage outside of the Church's Magic Ring.

The powers he used were not the divine miracles of the Holy Sun's manifestation, but were the application of Magic Power in the casting of spells.

As a descendant of nobility, Azeryan had some understanding of Spellcasters and Magic, and he knew all too well the Church's stance regarding Wild Mages outside of the Magic Ring within the Seryan Kingdom.

In Seryan, regardless of status, gender, or age, anyone found demonstrating the ability to cast spells was forcibly taken into custody by the Church and sent directly to an institution known as the "Magic Ring" for recruitment and supervision.

Any who did not comply would be sentenced to death on the spot, while those who did not resist and were taken into the Magic Ring...

It was said that some might re-enter society years later bearing the status of a Church clergy, while others would vanish without a trace.

Azeryan now understood why Leon had suggested heading north to the Orland Kingdom when discussing escape routes.

It was said that the Northern Kingdom, unlike the Seryan Kingdom, which was severe and strict with Spellcasters, did not worship the Holy Sun and was more lenient towards Magicians.

Having gathered those green stones with distinctive water-like patterns on their surfaces into an old cloth, Azeryan stood up, ready to return to his companions.

But no sooner had he looked up than the sight before him caused him to widen his eyes and cry out loud, "Leon! — Watch your back!!!"

"?"

Squatting among the trees, busy drawing runes with stone powder, Leon was suddenly startled by his companion's alarmed shout. At first, he was baffled, but he quickly reacted.

He threw himself to the ground and rolled aside in a very awkward dodge.

There was a dull thunk as a sword blade deeply cleaved into the soil, destroying the runic pattern he had just completed.

Leon, breaking out in a cold sweat, now saw that Lokhak, who was originally searching for materials by the creek, had silently appeared behind him.

If it weren't for Azeryan's shout just now, he might have had his shoulder blade split open by Lokhak's sword.

"... Are you mad? Lokhak!"

Leon scrambled to the side, still in shock.

This sudden betrayal by a companion was actually the closest he had come to losing his life, compared to all the dangers they had faced on their journey.

However, Lokhak seemed deaf to Leon's reproach, the robust youth lifting his head with a fierce look, staring intently at Leon with blood-red eyes streaming with bloody tears.

That angry and unfocused gaze was as if he was staring at his own sworn enemy.

"Lokhak!"

Leon called out loudly to the crazed boy in front of him, being forced to keep retreating until he was blocked by a tree trunk behind him.

As another swipe came at him, Leon hastily ducked to avoid it.

A terrible grating sound of metal slicing wood scattered the chips in all directions.

The ordinary-looking Armed Sword had unexpectedly chopped a tree trunk, thicker than a thigh, in half.

With a loud crash, the tree fell, kicking up leaves and dust.

Leon and Azeryan watched in disbelief as Lokhak's right arm, due to his own inhuman strength from that strike, was grotesquely bent and deformed.

But immediately after, Lokhak's twisted arm, still grasping the sword hilt, crackled, and in a blink, flexed to reposition the bones back in place, as straight as before.

"Ugh~ That happened quicker than expected... Hey, if you don't want to die, run now. He's no longer your friend."

A girl's voice suddenly issued a warning in Leon's mind.

Leon was always amenable to good advice; he called out to Azeryan, who was bewildered and still not understanding the situation, and then turned to flee into the dense woods: "Lokhak is possessed! Leave him!"

"Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah Ahhh!!!!!!" The enraged boy with a face streaming with blood tears roared as he gave chase.

Hearing the threatening roar behind him, Leon increased the speed of his escape.

At the same time, he eagerly asked in his heart, "Do you know what's wrong with him? How he suddenly went mad without any warning."

"That's what I told you before, about the danger worse than death," the girl's voice sighed, "That child's soul has already been targeted by a Spirit Realm Demon."

"Demon? Can we perform an exorcism? Is there still a chance to save him?"

"You're struggling to save yourself, and you still want to save him? He almost split you in two," the girl's voice sounded slightly surprised.

"It was the Demon who tried to split me, not Lokhak. Let's talk about whether there's a way or not."

"If you merely wanted to get rid of him... Sigh, never mind, it's not like there's no way. Anyway, if it comes down to it... just make a clean break... For now, focus on escaping," the girl's voice then sounded resigned.

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