Knight – Part 06
“Hah…”
Cecily spread her legs, lowered her hips, and twisted with all her might. Her breath was ragged.
“Haaaaaahhh!”
The man’s eyes widened in shock. This woman, half his size and wearing a fierce look, was trying to push him back with brute force. And it was working. Slowly but surely, he was losing ground.
“Impossible!”
With a swing of her sword, Cecily redirected his momentum sideways, causing him to stumble. She followed through, slashing down from his shoulder. Blood sprayed into the air.
“Next!”
She sensed the presence behind her instantly. A shadow loomed, sword raised. Cecily clicked her tongue. Before she could turn, the blade came down, but just before it struck, the attacker was hit from behind, falling flat on his face.
“Luke…”
“You’re fiercer than I thought, Cecily Campbell,” Luke said, flicking the blood from his katana. “You’ve tossed aside all semblance of ladylike decorum.”
“Save it. We’re not done here.”
Cecily readied her sword and steadied her ragged breathing. Sweat soaked her body, more from tension than exhaustion. She told herself to embrace the pressure—only then could she keep on fighting. She could draw from her training, or perhaps even push herself beyond what she had learned. Steeling herself, she glared at the remaining bandits.
“Hey, you two,” called one of the members from their group.
“Tsk. What now?” Luke growled.
“See that guy with the bandana over there? The one with the scar on his cheek?”
“Yeah, I see him.”
“He’s their boss. He was giving orders earlier, so there’s no doubt about it. Take him down.”
“I can’t stomach the idea of taking orders from you, but fine.”
“What are you doing?!” Cecily snapped, startling Luke. “Are you just going to watch?!” She looked at the wounded knights and mercenaries on their knees. “Fulfill your duty and bring them to justice!”
The group stared, stunned. The city knights were the first to snap back to their senses. Instantly, their faces hardened. They clicked their tongues, ashamed of their inaction, then spread out to charge at the bandits. The less-injured mercenaries followed suit.
“Some of them are trying to escape!” one man shouted. “Don’t let a single one get away!”
The skirmish ended swiftly.
With Cecily and Luke leading the charge, the bandits’ formation broke down, allowing the knights and mercenaries to swoop in and subdue them. The bandits were swiftly rounded up without further bloodshed.
The last one standing was the bandits’ leader, slumped on the ground. Cecily pointed her sword at his throat. She was completely out of breath but strangely exhilarated.
“Surrender.”
The leader looked up at her bitterly.
“I have questions for you. About your numbers, the goods you stole—”
“And these creatures,” Lisa finished Cecily’s sentence. She crouched beside one of the fallen beasts, her fingers brushing through its fur. “You drugged them, didn’t you?”
“Drugged?”
“You didn’t just drug them once either. You did it regularly, breaking their minds to control them. Isn’t that right? Otherwise…” Lisa cast her gaze down. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t have cried out in such sorrow.”
Cecily stared down at the leader. He turned his face away.
“A ragtag band of thieves keeping Inhumans as pets? It doesn’t add up. There’s more going on, isn’t there?”
Cornered, the leader’s face turned pale. Finally, he muttered something under his breath.
“…”
Cecily heard the words, but couldn’t understand them. Incomprehensible, like the language of a foreign land, and at the same time jarring and unsettling.
Lisa, however, understood what he just said. “Why would he recite a Death Spell?” she murmured in shock.
“Death… Spell?”
“Get away from him, Cecily Campbell! You’ll get caught in it!”
Luke instantly grabbed her arm and yanked her back, pulling her into his chest.
“Wh-What are you—”
Blushing, she tried to protest, but the scene unfolding before her left her speechless. The leader’s body was undergoing a transformation.
“Watch closely, Cecily Campbell,” Luke whispered in her ear. “That’s a Demon Pact.”
A hole appeared in the man’s shoulder, as if something had bitten a chunk out of it. A perfectly circular hollow.
Holes of various sizes appeared across his body—shoulder, chest, toes, side, left eye, forehead—all accompanied by a soft pop. The man’s eyes rolled back and drool trickled down his chin. He showed no signs of pain. He had lost consciousness, his body being devoured mercilessly by the holes. Cecily could do nothing but watch.
“S-So, this is a Demon Pact.”
“I’m sure you know about the Valbanill War.”
The Proxy Pact War, also known as the Valbanill War, was a conflict that engulfed every nation on the continent forty-four years ago. Cecily knew the Independent Trade City was born from the pursuit of independence and the need to escape the war. Housman had established the land as a sanctuary for refugees, which later became the foundation of the city that stood today.
Cecily’s grandfather had lived through that war, and through her father, she had learned what kind of conflict it was. He had described it as hell.
There was only one reason people called the Valbanill War a living hell—that which was currently outlawed by continental law.
“A Demon Pact,” Cecily murmured.
Contractual faith was divided into two categories: Prayer Pacts and Demon Pacts.
“Unlike a Prayer Pact, which uses jewel steel as a catalyst, a Demon Pact uses human flesh,” Luke explained. “A Demon Pact feeds the Aetheria in the air with flesh, transforming them into demons once they’ve absorbed blood and tissue. Those demons were then unleashed into the battlefield.”
The flesh sacrificed would never regenerate. Creating a demon always required a price.
But back then, nations, obsessed with the prospect of immediate victory, valued the demons’ power. During the last stages of the war, they forced pacts not only on regular soldiers but also on ordinary citizens conscripted into service. Demons from different countries clashed on the battlefield, ravaging towns along the borders. The nature of this war, fought not by humans but by demons, led to it being called the Proxy Pact War.
After the war, the pact was banned by continental law. As surviving nations focused on rebuilding, they turned to Prayer Pacts, which were previously only used in remote regions, as a safer alternative. And so the arcane art that had nearly brought the continent to ruin was forgotten—or so they believed.
“A Demon Pact requires a trigger phrase—a specific incantation known as a Death Spell. Damn it,” Luke cursed in frustration. “Normally, it requires only a part of your body. But that bastard lost it and abandoned all restraint. Fuck.”
“B-But Demon Pacts are supposed to be illegal.”
“Open your eyes. Illegal or not, it’s happening right in front of you.”
Cecily was about to snap back, but when she glanced at Luke, her breath caught. Luke was staring at the bandit leader’s transformation, his right eye dark with turbulent emotions. Hatred? Anger? She couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be easily described in a single word.
Now that she thought about it, how did Luke know so much about Demon Pacts?
“It’s coming!”
The holes finally consumed the leader’s body entirely. And after a brief moment of silence, there was an explosion.
Blinding white light flooded Cecily’s vision. Screams and gasps were drowned in the thunderous blast. The gust of wind that slammed into them was unexpectedly cold, sweeping over her bare skin with a cutting chill.
Cecily could do nothing but shield her head. The explosion blew away all coherent thought, and she instinctively clung to the nearest thing she could find—which, surprisingly, pulled her close in return, holding her firmly in its embrace.
The shockwave vanished just as suddenly as it had erupted.
“Ah.”
Cecily slowly opened her eyes and realized she was pressed against something—Luke’s chest. She reflexively shoved him away, only to immediately regret her rudeness. But Luke wasn’t even looking at her.
Following his gaze, Cecily’s breath hitched. A massive crater had formed where the bandit leader had stood. Grass, trees, flowers—everything within range had been blasted away, leaving a hole with a gentle slope. Thick white smoke billowed up from the crater’s center.
“Lisa! Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Lisa, sprawled face-down on the ground, raised her hand. She had clung to the grass at her feet to brace against the shockwave. Dizzy, she staggered to her feet. The other knights and mercenaries also rose, groaning, and glanced around in confusion, trying to piece together what had just happened.
For now, it seemed everyone was safe. Cecily exhaled in relief—then froze, stunned to see her own breath.
She shivered. It was cold. Despite the clear sky and bright sun, her breath hung visibly in the air, and she felt a chill on her skin. On closer inspection, the forest seemed to turn white, as if shrouded in mist.
Cecily wasn’t the only one feeling the chill. The knights and mercenaries began to notice the strange phenomenon.
“Cecily Campbell. We need to leave,” Luke said.
“Wh-What’s going on here?”
“Just shut up and listen!” Luke shouted, still staring at the center of the crater. “This is bad. Everyone, get out of here!”
But it was already too late. A sudden gust of wind dispersed the white smoke at the crater’s center. Squinting through the swirling mist, Cecily saw the creature that emerged.
“Wh-What is that?”
A four-legged beast—or could it even be called one? It had no warmth, no heartbeat, no life that defined a living being. Because it was made entirely of ice. A block of ice shaped like a beast.
It resembled a dummy made from hundreds of icicles pieced together. Its overall form was sharp and angular, with cone-like limbs piercing the ground to support its body. Where its limbs touched the earth, a layer of frost spread outward. A faint, breathing sound emanated from it, each breath releasing a wave of cold.
The mist seemed to originate from the icy beast, swirling around it. The bone-chilling cold, too, radiated from this creature—the ice demon.
Cecily stood paralyzed, horrified. The creature, unlike anything she had ever seen, didn’t display any recognizable expression, merely emanating cold air where it stood, but it exuded an overwhelming presence. What was about to happen? What was coming? The fear of the unknown gripped her entirely.
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