The moment he reached to touch his shoulder to check the position of the magic arrow lodged there—
BOOM!
A massive magical mace came crashing down toward Gulick's head. Barely managing to block the attack, the gauntlet protecting Gulick's arm crumpled, and his stance faltered. Yet, through the arm shielding his face, he caught sight of Diara and flashed a bitter smile.
"So, it was the Witch of the Hidden Moon!"
Using his free arm—the one not gripping his sword—Gulick propped himself up from the ground and swung his blade at Diara.
CLANG!
Diara's staff, conjuring the form of a magical mace, clashed with Gulick's sword. The force of the powerful strike sent both of them staggering back. Seizing the moment, Diara hurried toward the wounded Reave.
"I'll heal your wounds."
A green magical circle glowed at Diara's hands.
"I'm fine, That man—he's quite skilled for a bandit leader. Be cautious."
"I can hear you! And call people by their names! It's Gulick, Gulick. No need to know my family name. And I told you, we're not a bandit!"
Rubbing the arm that had just blocked Diara's attack, Gulick interjected into Reave and Diara's conversation.
"Looks like all I need to do now is take down that red-haired witch over there."
Gulick swung his sword through the air once, assuming a combat stance.
"I'll assist you, Diara."
Having finished casting the healing spell, Diara gripped her staff with both hands, facing Gulick. Reave, too, rose from the ground, picking up a sword lying beside a fallen corpse nearby. He stepped forward, closing the distance with Gulick.
"Guli~ck!"
Reave's steps quickened as he charged at Gulick.
"Getting awfully chummy in such a short time, huh? Running at me while calling my name? Heh heh heh!"
Gulick, too, dashed toward Reave. Reave raised his sword overhead, slashing down at Gulick. But Gulick reacted swiftly, lunging forward even faster, causing Reave's blade to slice through empty air.
"Ha! You think I'd let that kind of attack hit me?"
Gulick's sword aimed for Reave. Reave barely managed to parry two consecutive strikes, but Gulick pressed on relentlessly, not giving him a moment to counter.
Though Gulick wielded a longsword—closer to a two-handed greatsword—his attacks were so rapid that Reave had no chance to retaliate.
"This guy's way better than some knight, isn't he?"
"Urgh!"
Unable to withstand Gulick's relentless onslaught, Reave stumbled and fell. Gulick spun around, pulling a dagger from his waist and hurling it at Diara.
"I was watching you, witch!"
While Gulick had been fighting Reave, Diara had been preparing a spell, taking advantage of the gap between them. But Gulick, ever vigilant, had kept an eye on her. The moment Diara unfurled a magical circle to cast her spell, he threw the dagger to disrupt her.
Diara dodged the flying dagger. Immediately, a red-glowing magical circle appeared before her outstretched hand. She channeled mana through the tip of her staff, feeding it into the circle hovering in the air.
'I need to focus the mana faster.'
The magical circle glowed brighter, converging into a single point before vanishing. A blazing sphere of fire, radiating intense heat and light, shot toward Gulick.
"Fire Ball!"
The fiery orb hurtled toward its target, engulfing Gulick.
"Argh! Damn witch!"
With a short scream, Gulick's form was obscured by the flames enveloping him.
"Haaah…"
Exhausted from casting such a mana-intensive spell, Diara let out a trembling breath. She planted her staff into the ground, leaning on it to steady her staggering body.
"Ugh!"
A sudden jolt of pain elicited a groan from Diara. From within the still-burning fireball that engulfed Gulick, a dagger had flown out, embedding itself in her shoulder.
Diara stared at the flames with a puzzled expression. The flickering fire began to subside, and as it did, Gulick's form became visible within. The flames that had consumed him gradually died down.
"Phew! Good thing I brought this along—it saved my life. Hahaha!"
Aside from slightly singed armor and the charred tips of his hair, Gulick stood there nonchalantly, touching the ends of his hair.
"Huh? You look confused. See this?" He pulled a piece of paper from inside his gauntlet, waving it at Diara. "They say this is one of the eight lost pages from Ekiel's Book."
"The Devil's Dictionary…" Diara murmured, clutching the wound on her shoulder caused by the dagger.
"Yep, you know it well. The Devil's Dictionary, the Scripture of Evil, the Book of Malice—people call it all sorts of names. If I remember right, a priest named Ekiel prayed to God, asking to know all the knowledge of the world. But it was a demon who answered his prayer."
"Urk!"
As Diara listened to Gulick's explanation, blood suddenly gushed from her mouth, trickling down. She leaned heavily on her staff, barely managing to stay upright as her body threatened to collapse.
"Oh, that dagger was coated with some pretty potent poison. You'd better detoxify it quick. Where was I? Right, right. So, a demon appeared in response to the priest's prayer, blabbering on about the truths and principles of the world. Ekiel wrote it all down, and that became Ekiel's Book. But eight pages went missing, and those pages? They have the power to nullify magic, like what you just saw. This was something I specifically asked my high-paying employer to get me as part of my reward for this job."
Gulick tucked the page back into his gauntlet as he spoke.
"Hmm, was that story too long? Heh… sorry. You know how it is—when you get a new magical artifact or piece of gear, you just can't help but talk about it. That excitement just makes me a bit chatty."
Chuckling softly, Gulick approached Diara. He stopped in front of her, where she stood barely upright, weakened by the poison. The amused glint in his eyes turned cold as he locked gazes with her.
"Hmm… it's a shame you've got such fine eyes, but this is the end, Witch of the Hidden Moon."
"..."
Just as Gulick's sword was about to reach Diara, a sharp metallic clang rang out, and his blade was sent flying through the air.
"What the—when did you…?"
Gulick's sword shattered into pieces, scattering across the ground. Standing between Diara and Gulick was Gravel, clad in a tattered cloak, holding a sword.
"It looked like you needed help." Gravel said to Diara, pulling back the hood covering his head.
"You must be the adventurer. I'm Diara, of the Hidden Moon Knights, under the Vanas Dukedom. Please, help me. Urgh!"
Diara's brow furrowed in pain as she finished her plea for aid, collapsing to the ground.
"You've been poisoned. I'll detoxify it first."
Gravel cast a detoxification spell. A light from his hand enveloped Diara's body, pulsing briefly before fading.
"Thank you, adventurer."
Even during the brief moment of casting the spell, Gravel never took his eyes off Gulick. Gulick, too, had stepped back a few paces, wary of Gravel, who had appeared and shattered his sword. He maintained his distance, sizing up his new opponent.
"Wow, I didn't even notice you coming. An adventurer? Someone who doesn't run after seeing this situation is either crazy or confident in their skills, huh?"
Gulick discarded the hilt of his broken sword and drew another from the sheath at his waist. This one was shorter than the last but still longer than an average sword.
"Who was it that said it? Always carry plenty of swords and arrows. One of my many strengths is that I'm always prepared."
Gulick swung his new sword through the air a few times, testing its weight.
"Lord Gravel, I'll handle him." Iris said, stepping in front of Gravel to face Gulick.
"No. I'll take him on myself this time. As my swordmaster, I want you to assess my skills."
Gravel placed a hand on Iris's shoulder and stepped forward.
"What's this? I'm way too popular today. By the way, adventurer, isn't that sword of yours a bit too flashy? Oh, wait—that's the one that knocked my sword away, right? Is it a magic sword?"
Gulick squinted, scrutinizing Gravel's blade.
It wasn't ostentatious like a ceremonial sword adorned with gems, but it exuded an elegant refinement, etched with intricate patterns and mysterious runes along the blade.
"Oh, is it? This is actually the first time I've drawn this sword."
"What? A brand-new sword? Must've cost a fortune. Should be more than enough to cover the cost of the blade you just broke."
Gravel lifted the sword, gazing along its length from hilt to tip.
The Jealous Tout. One of the six swords absorbed into the Sword of Eastend. Tout, the master of this blade, was said to be a king whose nation produced the finest steel. His kingdom was a veritable forge, home to master blacksmiths, smelters, jewelers, and artisans who crafted everything from sword hilts to leather grips. The greatest among them was King Tout himself.
Known as the Blacksmith King, the Hammer King, the Iron-Scent King, Tout's creations—swords, armor, spears, maces, shields—were treasures so coveted that it was said a single piece could be traded for ten wagons laden with gold.
One day, the sound of hammering ceased in the royal forge, built solely for Tout. After hundreds of days, his greatest masterpiece was born—a sword so precious he refused to name it, deeming it unworthy of being spoken by others. He declared he would grant a fortune to anyone who could craft a blade surpassing his own.
Artisans from across the land poured their skills into weapons to present to Tout, but none earned the promised gold. Instead, their creations were returned to them, shattered by Tout's sword. The finer the weapon, the more thoroughly it was destroyed.
The king grew obsessed. Some whispered that the nameless sword had driven him mad. To him, nothing in the world was more precious than his blade. Even as his kingdom fell, it's said Tout sat on his throne, caressing his sword until his final breath.
"Shall we begin?" Gravel asked, offering a gentle smile.
"Anytime!" Gulick replied, grinning as he tightened his grip on his sword.