The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 18.2

“Puff!”

Cain’s single word elicited another outburst of laughter.

Oleciren looked behind her, surprised, and asked.

“Isoel, you like this……”

“I laughed when I noticed the princess looking relaxed for the first time in a long time. “I am sorry.”

Despite her polite remarks, her shoulders shook.

There was still some laughter in her.

Arna approached Cain after the seven-person meeting ended and everyone went back to sleep.

They stood facing each other, the bonfire emitting only embers in between them.

“Young Master.”

“Yes, Little Mother.”

“If things go wrong, abandon me.”

“…….”

Cain didn’t respond.

He simply looked at her with his dull purple eyes, calmly discussing her death beyond the dying embers.

“Abel will be able to live comfortably on his own now. “And you have Young Master.”

The figure she had seen earlier was clearly a sibling.

Cain’s attitude had shifted overnight, but Arna could speak freely because she knew it was genuine.

Cain shakes his head.

“Do not trust me. I’m just a guy attempting to utilize Abel’s abilities.”

“If you were such a person, you would not have harmed the witch earlier. That was a sword that could only be wielded by someone who was absolutely determined to deal with the witch properly.”

Even though her primary weapon was a bow, she possessed eyes.

She couldn’t help but notice Cain’s desperation as he swung his sword to break through the barrier created by the Witch of the Horizon.

When Cain remained silent, Arna smiled wryly.

“The Witch of the Horizon will not do what we want. Perhaps she will leave tomorrow, after ‘Arthuan’ has ended and the princess awakens as a witch.”

“That is why. “I didn’t catch her earlier.”

“……?”

This time, Arna was puzzled.

She tilted her head.

Cain drew the three swords he had placed beside him and poked the embers.

Then sparks flew into the air, illuminating the surroundings.

It wasn’t as bright as the stars in the sky, but it was a faint light emanating from the ground.

“We have something to get, but nothing to give. But a deal needs to be made.”

If there is nothing to give, make something.

He would make something that the Witch of the Horizon, who had no regrets, would regret, and then try to make a deal with her.

“Then first, I’ll have to put a sword to her neck.”

As a mercenary, Arna quickly grasped Cain’s strategy.

“The Witch of the Horizon appears every time a new witch is born. She creates a witch, regardless of the interference.”

According to the records that the hero Abel, who was a hero in a previous life, discovered in the special restricted library in the basement of the Holy See’s cathedral, the Holy See had set traps several times in advance, determining the year when the sun would bleed.

They had sent out a large number of inquisitors to try to put a stop to it.

But they failed.

The Witch of the Horizon conjured a witch on the spot, even at the expense of damage.

“In other words, for some reason, creating it here is inevitable.”

Arna thought for a moment before saying.

“Perhaps it’s because of ‘origin’.”

Cain’s eyes widened as he looked at her.

Then Arna carefully explained.

“I learned this in a dungeon while working as a mercenary. Do you know why witches’ aliases are decided?”

Glumiêm from the ‘Unseen Forest’.

Primundi from the ‘Unattainable Horizon’.

Each witch used a different alias.

Cain shook his head, unsure how it was decided.

Arna continued.

“I told you that a witch is someone who is broken in some way, correct? What they want to fix is their origin. Perhaps Glumiêm wished the forest to look back at her……”

“Primundi must have wished to touch the horizon.”

Cain had no idea what the word ‘origin’ meant, but he had heard it before.

The fulfillment of a witch’s alias causes her to vanish from the world.

That’s what the hero Abel had told him at this point.

That is why he stated that he would touch the horizon when confronting the Witch of the Horizon.

A race of witches who regarded something they had lost as their ‘alias’ and reclaimed it upon death.

Arna summed up witches in one word.

“They’re sad people.”

Thud━.

Cain threw dry firewood prepared for the dying bonfire.

“They wish for their origin, but if they achieve it, they disappear.”

The firewood then added fuel to the fire, causing it to spread even further.

“That’s similar.”

The firelight shone brightly in Cain’s eyes.

Arna couldn’t bring herself to ask anymore.

She had no idea what was broken, but she couldn’t ask Cain, who looked like a witch until the end, what he was thinking.

What he had wished for.

What would remain at the end.

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