The Knight Who Protects the Weak

Chapter 017: Crimson Flame Cult (4)

At a glance, roughly thirty to forty of them.

Their specialty was fire magic.

This place might be spacious, but it was a sealed space.

Would they really dare to attack me, ready to burn all the children who were to be fodder for their leader?

‘No.’

They wouldn’t dare hold Ayan hostage to threaten me either.

For one, they hadn’t even properly grasped my relationship with Ayan, and they wouldn’t recklessly harm a child favored by their leader.

I finished my calculations.

Time to dance with my sword.

“Don’t surrender quietly. All of you will…”

“Krhh… Krhak…!”

“…?”

What was that noise? It was the warden, sprawled on the floor.

A chill ran through me.

‘…He’s alive?’

I had struck with the intent to sever his lifeline.

Even if I’d briefly lost my grip on reason, I was certain of the sensation of the hit.

‘Impossible.’

The warden suddenly rolled half a turn, lying comfortably as he looked up at me.

Blood streamed from his grinning mouth, and the gash across his chest was visibly ‘evaporating’ in real-time.

“Krha! You…! Your strikes are quite spicy, aren’t they? You’ll make fine material.”

“What are you blabbering about, you lunatic?”

Now that I looked, he was wearing a protective collar around his neck.

Through the torn collar of his shirt, I caught a glimpse of something metallic.

‘As long as his head is intact, he can regenerate?’

I thrust the sword, held in a reverse grip, straight into his heart.

Thud—!

“Krha…! You think that’ll work?! You! You’re underestimating our Crimson Flame Cult!”

Thwack!

He grabbed the blade lodged in his heart with both hands.

Blood oozed from his grip, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

“You dim-witted disciples! What are you doing? Show him the taste of fire!”

“You madman. You don’t care what happens to the sacrifices?”

“The Leader will be far more pleased with you, no doubt!”

“…Hah.”

Whoosh.

Heat surged from all directions, and my vision brightened as if struck by a flash.

“Fire!”

At the warden’s command, they aimed fireballs conjured in their hands at me.

Dodging wasn’t the issue.

The problem was that if I dodged, the scattered flames would hit the children.

Fwoosh!

I yanked the sword from the warden’s chest.

Several of his fingers flew off, spraying blood.

“Kiaaah—!”

A question flashed through my mind in that instant.

What was the connection between fire magic and regeneration?

If regeneration was also magic… there was no way I couldn’t counter it.

For now, I set the question aside and swung my sword, intending to carve multiple arcs around me.

Slash-slash-slash—!

The oncoming flames collided with the arcs in the air, shattering into fragments.

The fireballs, reduced to embers, scattered as sparks.

“H-He cut the flames…!?”

The warden’s eyes looked ready to pop out.

Staring at his face, I stomped the ground hard.

First, I needed to break through their encirclement.

My body spun through the air like an acrobat.

Fortunately, the ceiling was high. I had room to stay airborne.

Thud!

I landed in front of Ayan and Maserin.

I immediately spoke to them.

“Both of you, run.”

“…What?”

“Up the stairs. Now.”

Thankfully, Maserin caught on and started running.

I hoisted the bewildered Ayan over my shoulder and bolted.

“H-He’s escaping!”

“That insolent rat! Catch him! Catch him!”

As expected, they gave chase.

The moment I reached the top of the stairs, Maserin, who had run ahead, arrived as well.

No time to scold her.

Looking back, the enemies were still halfway up the stairs.

I kicked open the nearest iron door.

Bang!

“Get in!”

“H-Here?”

“Shut up and get in!”

I tossed Ayan inside, pushed Maserin in after him, and slammed the iron door shut.

Just as I caught my breath, the heads of the pursuers started appearing one by one.

“Here he is! In the reformation corridor!”

Disgusting bastards. Still, I forced myself to stay composed.

My resolve was to not show even a sliver of weakness to them.

Bang!

I kicked open another iron door, far from the room where Ayan and Maserin were.

The door crumpled under the imprint of my foot.

Glancing at the approaching enemies, I stepped inside.

A foul stench of pus and blood assaulted my senses.

I could roughly guess what had happened here.

Torture devices, crusted with dried blood, were scattered throughout the spacious chamber.

…The thought crossed my mind that I was a hypocritical bastard.

Did I even have the right to grimace at this sight?

I shook my head, and a clamor of footsteps poured in from behind.

“Ha! This guy walked right into his grave? What a riot!”

With the warden at the center, the third-generation disciples filled the chamber, surrounding me as they had below.

The only silver lining was that the chamber was large enough to accommodate them all at once.

I threw out the question I’d been holding back.

“That vile regeneration ability. What is it? Your cult… are you coveting the powers of demonic beasts?”

“Puhaha! Demonic beasts, you say! To your ignorant eyes, it might look that way.”

The warden laughed so hard his throat was fully exposed, then pointed a finger at the ceiling.

Fwoosh.

Unless something was wrong with the left eye I gained after my regression… what rose from the warden’s fingertip wasn’t flame but congealed blood.

The blood, erupting in an amorphous shape like fire, vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The warden twisted his lips.

“Flames are inherently red. Yet, why did our cult’s founder deliberately name it the Crimson Flame? Kuhuhu, yes. It began with a trivial curiosity.”

“….”

“Even if only faintly, the Leader gained enlightenment and I was next.

That’s all I’ll say to a Zephyros mongrel.”

A flurry of thoughts raced through my mind.

A few strong suspicions emerged.

‘…Fine.’

Without witnessing it myself, it was mere speculation.

Shaking off distractions, I tightened my grip on the sword.

“By the way, you pulled off quite a stunt earlier. Cutting magic? That was a chilling trick. That sword seems suspicious. I’ll tear it apart piece by piece.”

Led by the warden, they began conjuring flames at their fingertips.

My skin started to burn. I wasn’t so dull as to lack sensation.

Still, this was better than innocent victims getting caught in the crossfire.

Even in war, wasn’t it the same? There was no worse fate than dying to a stray arrow or explosion.

Feigning nonchalance, I said,

“Welcome to the real Purgatory, you filth.”

* * *

Boom—!

“…Gasp!”

Ayan flinched, pulling his ear away from the door he’d been pressed against.

The deafening crash reverberated through the iron door.

“Just stay put. You think you’ll hear anything like that?”

“B-But…”

“If you’re worried about Bihen, don’t be. He’s luring them on purpose.”

That was the part Ayan didn’t understand.

He nearly blurted out a question but, seeing Maserin’s face, cold as ice even in this chaos, resolved to be cautious.

Bang! Boom—!

Two more thunderous crashes echoed beyond the heavy iron door.

Ayan cautiously spoke.

“S-Shouldn’t we help?”

“Help? You’d only get in the way.”

“You’re… with Zephyros, aren’t you?”

It was as if he’d touched a nerve.

Maserin’s face, arms crossed, flared with anger.

“…So? What about Zephyros?”

Ayan clenched his fists inside his long sleeves.

A surge of resentment boiled up from his gut.

“After being sent from the main branch to the Easton chapter… my masters had me handle food procurement and gather outside news to avoid leaking their identities in Easton.”

“What are you getting at?”

“The people of Easton all said the same thing. That Zephyros was Easton’s hope, and even the Kingdom’s hope.”

“….”

“Do you know what I did first after realizing my fellow disciples and I were to become sacrifices?”

Maserin’s brow twitched.

She didn’t notice her large eyes trembling faintly.

“…I secretly asked Zephyros for help.”

Maserin was at a loss for words.

She vaguely understood how this boy had struggled and how his desperate plea had been ignored.

The reality that she couldn’t immediately counter him felt frustratingly unjust.

Her eyelids trembled as she tried to calm herself.

“It might sound cowardly… but I didn’t know.”

Would it have made a difference if she had?

Ayan didn’t want to dwell on it.

What was certain was that his escape attempt today, to seek Zephyros one last time, could have been in vain.

“Among the kids down there… are there any from the Empire?”

Ayan let out a sigh laden with resignation.

He took it to mean that if there had been an Imperial, Zephyros would have acted.

“There almost was.”

An awkward silence fell, punctuated by successive explosions.

Ayan’s shoulders flinched with each one.

“N-No… this won’t do. Because of me, Bihen…!”

Ayan, who had been crouching, shot to his feet.

He was already doomed, and the guilt of dragging an innocent person into this was unbearable.

If he hadn’t begged to be saved, if he hadn’t crossed paths with Bihen… that man wouldn’t have ended up here.

Creak.

“…!”

The iron door scraped open.

Unbeknownst to Ayan, Maserin had moved to stand protectively in front of him.

“B-Bihen…!”

Ayan’s teary eyes shook violently.

Maserin was the same.

Though she didn’t speak, her face conveyed utter shock.

“Took longer than I thought.”

At that utterly unexpected remark, Ayan and Maserin were speechless.

What he said next was even more astonishing.

“Ayan. Where is the Crimson Flame Leader?”

Bihen leaned against the doorframe, slanted.

His face, clothes—everything was smeared with blood and soot.

One might wonder if smoke would puff out when he opened his mouth.

“B-But how… Bihen, are you okay…?”

“It’s nothing.”

Bihen waved his hand dismissively and asked again about the Crimson Flame Leader’s location.

He listened to Ayan’s stammering explanation to the end, nodding.

“Good. Maserin, go downstairs and free the kids.”

“You’re really going after the Crimson Flame Leader…?”

“Have you forgotten what your teacher said? Looking at this, if the Crimson Flame Leader decides to retaliate, Easton could be razed. I have to stop it before that.”

That was it.

Bihen turned and swiftly retraced his steps.

“Bihen…”

Muttering his name in a daze, Ayan stepped out into the corridor like someone entranced.

“M-My God…!”

What Ayan saw instead of Bihen was a flood of blood spilling from the chamber where the fight had taken place, with the warden’s head floating atop it.

Reality hit him late.

He’d unwittingly told Bihen the Crimson Flame Leader’s location.

Moments ago, he’d been tormented by guilt for dragging Bihen into danger, yet he didn’t know why he’d answered so readily.

‘…Ah.’

It dawned on him.

From the moment Bihen opened the door and appeared, he’d already been half out of his mind.

‘Maybe…’

Could this man actually bring down the Crimson Flame Leader?

Unconsciously, he’d harbored that hope.

To the fourteen-year-old Ayan, Bihen Benkou was undeniably a man who defied common sense.