Episode 13. Part 3. Trial by Duel (3)
Two streaks of sword light tore through the air.
Eerie radiance traced two crescent moons as they surged straight toward Randolf.
"…Hah!"
Startled, Randolf twisted his body. This time, he had truly been caught off guard.
And then—
"Ah!"
A groan rippled through the crowd.
Randolf's chest had been lightly torn. Between the split fabric, crimson droplets slowly seeped out, staining his clothes.
It missed.
And by quite a margin.
The priests watching shook their heads.
"What a shame…."
"So close."
It had been a slash poured with every ounce of strength, a strike that properly targeted an opening—worthy of being called a secret technique.
But the level of mastery was simply too low. Any trained knight could have dodged it instinctively.
One of the Zestrad knights muttered hollowly,
"So there really are no miracles…."
Karnak had tried.
He trained from early morning, shed blood and sweat all day long, pushing himself so relentlessly that he no longer resembled the reckless thug everyone remembered from the past.
Even those who held no fond feelings toward him found themselves hoping.
Yet the result was nothing more than a single, shallow cut—like a scratch from a cat.
"Ha… haha…."
Randolf let out a dry laugh and raised his sword.
"Not bad. For someone at your level, I'd say you did your best."
The knights turned their heads away.
This was reality.
No matter how hard one tried, overwhelming differences in skill could not be overcome.
"The world really is…."
One knight murmured sorrowfully,
"Cruelly unfair…."
Baros, meanwhile, was extremely satisfied.
What luck.
Truly, extraordinarily good luck.
Things don't usually go this perfectly according to plan.
Unfair, the world? What part of this was unfair?
Karnak had supposedly done his utmost for a month, but any proper knight put in that much effort—over decades, no less.
And his opponent was none other than Sir Randolf, the strongest knight of Deventor.
A man born with talent, who had endured brutal training since childhood to reach his current station.
If such a man were to lose his life to a technique crammed into a single day of rushed practice, that would only prove that effort itself was meaningless.
No, calling this unfair would be wrong.
Baros smiled faintly.
The truly unfair part begins now.
"Ah, honestly…."
Randolf was dumbfounded.
"They say even a cornered rat will bite a cat, and look at me—I've lived to see it."
He had allowed a single strike from someone like Karnak. He had even shed a bit of blood.
It might have been nothing in the grand scheme of things, but for Randolf it was irritating enough. His fellow knights would surely bring it up as drinking fodder for a long time.
"I'll be the butt of jokes for a while. Damn it."
He was just about to finish things.
Then Karnak, head lowered, spoke softly, almost in a whisper.
"The one facing you staked his life. And all you're worried about is being mocked? Good. That means you don't need to feel sorry."
"Hm?"
For a moment, Randolf was puzzled.
Feel sorry? Who to whom?
Karnak grinned.
"Honestly, I don't really know what that feeling is like either."
Suddenly, something surged out from Randolf's entire body.
Fwoooosh!
Startled, he looked down at himself. From between the slightly torn fabric on his chest, black darkness burst forth.
The darkness rapidly spread in all directions, forming a massive shape.
"W-what is this?"
Seizing the opening, Karnak thrust his sword forward.
"Hyah!"
Naturally, he was kicked away.
No matter how panicked his opponent might be, facing a trained knight head-on was impossible.
Thud!
The problem was that Karnak went flying—more than five meters.
"Hah!"
The entire audience gasped in shock.
Sending a fully grown man clad in full plate armor flying with a single kick?
That was strength no human without awakened aura could possibly possess!
"What is that strength?!"
"And that black thing—what is it?!"
"It looks like… some kind of demon…."
Shock swept through the arena like a wave.
Then a priest cried out,
"N-necromancy!"
Cries rang out from all sides.
"Necromancy?"
"So that's the necromancy we've only heard rumors about?"
"My gods! How could such a vile aura come from Sir Randolf?"
Randolf was plunged into utter confusion.
Necromancy? Who? Me?
Necromancy? He had only ever heard the name—he didn't even know what it really was.
Then why was it erupting from his own body like this? Why was his strength increasing so wildly?
Clutching his sword, he frantically glanced around.
"No, I—I mean, that is—!"
As if perfectly timed with his movement, black energy surged violently, forming jet-black wings and coating the blade in darkness.
Seizing the moment, Baros shouted loudly.
"Demonic wings! He's trying to flee!"
Only then did the priests of Allium snap back to their senses and move swiftly.
"Judges! Seize that man at once!"
Armed battle priests poured into the arena. They had originally been standing by to carry out executions for the trial by duel.
"In the name of Allium!"
"Deliver righteous judgment upon this impure existence!"
Holy light flashed from all directions as spears and blades flew in.
Driven into panic, Randolf began to scream.
"Uaaaaah!"
A black giant rampaged across the arena.
"UAAAAAH!"
Each time he swung, battle priests were hurled away in every direction.
They were sent flying several meters at a time—something no ordinary human could ever display.
"It truly is necromancy!"
"You demon!"
Burning with hatred toward necromancers, the battle priests relentlessly pressed in on Randolf.
Wielding his greatsword in a frenzy, Randolf roared again and again.
"UAAAAAH!"
What was this? What the hell was happening? Why was this happening to him?
He was wronged—furious—desperate to protest, to explain something, anything. But his mind felt paralyzed, his words refused to come out.
All that escaped him was raw emotion, spilling forth as a howl.
"Uuooogh!"
But the struggle did not last long.
The black energy that had erupted like a seizure quickly began to fade. At the same time, Randolf's monstrous strength drained away.
"He's weakening!"
"Subdue him now!"
Even so, they still couldn't capture him.
Even without necromancy, Randolf was originally the strongest knight of Deventor. Relying on his natural strength, he vented his rage, charging about like a wounded boar.
"UAAAAAH!"
At last, the battle priests abandoned any attempt to subdue him and switched their objective to elimination.
Blades from all sides flew toward Randolf's vital points.
Without armor, Randolf had no way to block every one of those attacks.
Blades pierced him—again and again.
He was slashed, again and again.
"UAAAAARGH!"
With a dreadful final scream, he finally lost his life in the very center of the arena.
Watching Randolf's final moments, Karnak gave a bitter smile.
I didn't expect things to go this smoothly.
Originally, he had expected Randolf to be subdued here and dragged off to the temple.
If that happened, there would be a risk of the truth being exposed, so he had planned to have Baros step in discreetly and kill him beforehand…
Didn't realize he was the type who couldn't control his temper that badly. Well, I get it, though.
Consumed by injustice to his very marrow, Randolf had rampaged like a boar struck by a spear, and the matter had been settled right there on the spot.
Still, I've got to do what needs doing. Damn, that hurts…
Having been kicked and sent flying five meters, even the finest armor couldn't completely prevent the aftermath.
Thanks to Baros drilling him relentlessly, he had managed to break his fall in time—otherwise, he might have broken something.
Staggering to his feet, Karnak shouted,
"Priests of Allium! What is the verdict of the trial by duel?"
The priests, standing around Randolf's corpse in confusion, wore grim expressions.
Trial by duel? Is that really what matters right now?
A seed of the most forbidden, most horrific sin has sprouted before us!
But on second thought, it did matter.
This was a sacred trial conducted in the name of Allium. Reaching a clear conclusion was also the duty of the clergy.
Forcing himself to regain composure, the presiding judge raised his right hand and declared,
"The duelist of Deventor entered this sacred trial by duel bearing an unforgivable sin! This is an atrocious act that dares to mock the Goddess herself!"
The priest's voice echoed throughout the arena.
"I hereby declare victory to the duelist of Zestrad—Baron Karnak!"
There was no cheer.
Only silence hung in the air.
Everyone stood frozen in fear and shock, silently staring at the corpse lying in the arena.
The Deventor Viscount's estate was thrown into complete turmoil.
The fact that one of the family's knights had been linked to necromancy made issues like copper mines utterly irrelevant.
The Allium Order dispatched priests directly from its main headquarters, thoroughly combing through the viscount's domain. They were searching for any further traces of necromancy that might exist.
From Randolf's quarters, they discovered handkerchiefs embroidered with necromantic sigils, undergarments sewn with heretical talismans, and more.
These were clear pieces of evidence that he had borrowed filthy, dark powers.
Randolf's younger sister vehemently insisted that the items were merely things she had purchased from an unidentified traveling merchant and that they had nothing to do with Randolf—but this only served to deepen the suspicions directed at her.
The sister, fellow knights and their families, servants and maids alike—all were subjected to interrogation.
In the end, since no crimes could be proven, the suspicions were withdrawn, but…
"I heard they went through quite an ordeal."
At Karnak's explanation, Baros gave a strange smile.
"I do feel a bit sorry for that young lady—Sir Randolf's sister, I mean. She probably didn't know anything."
Though his words sounded apologetic, his expression didn't look the part at all.
Karnak tilted his head slightly.
"In situations like this, is feeling sorry what it means to live like a decent human being?"
"I suppose so? Most people seem to do that."
After producing dozens of innocent victims, that was all they had to say.
It seemed these two still had a very long way to go before becoming proper human beings.
In any case, Karnak laughed cheerfully.
"Everything worked out perfectly. I nearly panicked when I got back and was told to risk my life right away."
If necromancy were used in front of the priests, it would be exposed without fail. Even Karnak, who had reached the pinnacle of necromantic mastery, had no immediate way around that.
So he changed his approach.
If it's going to be exposed anyway, then let it be used! Just not by me—by Randolf.
After all, the fight took place inside a distant arena.
After all, they were entangled with one another when that wicked darkness burst forth.
Under those conditions, it was possible for Karnak to use necromancy in secret and pin it on Randolf instead.
"The problem was that the opponent had to shed blood for the necromancy to take hold naturally—but all that suffering was worth it."
Recalling his long training, Karnak smiled with satisfaction.
Baros suddenly asked,
"Won't the Order suspect anything? This can't be the first time you've used a trick like this, young master. There were necromancers even in the past."
"I think I'm the first."
"Huh? Really?"
Making it look like someone else was using necromancy while concealing one's own power, all while in close proximity?
"This level of delicate control is something only I can pull off now. Normally, it's impossible."
Even Karnak in his prime, back in the day, wouldn't have been able to do it.
It was only because he had once reached the ultimate realm—enough to be called the Necromancer King—that this had been possible.
"There's no precedent, so it shouldn't be a problem. However…"
Karnak trailed off, his expression darkening slightly.
"There is something I don't quite understand."
"What is it?"
"Things went too smoothly."
Objectively speaking, Randolf was someone who had no need whatsoever to rely on necromantic power. He was already a recognized knight, with a bright future ahead of him.
On the other hand, the one who benefited the most from this situation was clearly Karnak—the man who had escaped death.
"Even if there's no precedent, this is enough that they should suspect me."
Even if they didn't openly accuse him, a basic inspection would have been normal.
"So I deliberately suppressed my necromantic power and prepared myself for interrogation, but…"
The Order did not suspect Karnak.
No—they didn't even send anyone to the Zestrad family at all.
They completely overturned only the Deventor Viscount's house.
"It's almost as if they find it perfectly natural that Sir Randolf would have come into contact with necromancy."
Karnak tilted his head, utterly puzzled.
"Why? Why would no one question the situation when someone like Sir Randolf—who lacked nothing—used necromancy?"
The Gesselan Grand Cathedral, headquarters of the Allium Order overseeing the Northern Diocese of the Kingdom of Yustil.
A middle-aged priest was kneeling prostrate before an elderly man in his sixties. The old man wore splendid ceremonial robes embroidered with gold thread.
The old man spoke.
"Have you confirmed it without doubt? This is a grave matter. Not the slightest error can be tolerated."
Nodding, the middle-aged priest took a small glass vial from his robes.
"I have served as an inquisitor for nearly three years now. In that time, I have gained much experience. Based on that experience, I can say this with certainty."
Within the vial, a faint darkness stirred briefly.
It was extremely weak—yet unmistakable to anyone who served the Goddess.
"This is by no means the power of an ordinary necromancer. The attribute matches perfectly."
With firm conviction, the middle-aged priest continued clearly,
"The fragment of the Transcendent that the Goddess warned us about—the death that will bring ruin to the world."
He presented the darkness extracted from the corpse of Randolf, knight of Deventor, his expression hardening.
"This is without a doubt the Darkness of the End."
The archbishop accepted the vial and let out a sigh.
"Has the dominion of darkness already spread this far…?"