The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 49.2

Chapter 49.2: The Siege of Ironheart (3)

“You’re a crazy cult that worships fire, aren’t you?”

“We do not worship a god! We simply wish for this world to be a little freer!”

“Don’t give me that ‘freedom’ crap.”

There was no time or leisure to pry the information out bit by bit. So he decided to agitate her, to try and dig a little deeper into their identity.

He had deliberately inflicted a large wound to shake her composure.

However, Arian’s face turned pale, and she gave a faint smile.

It was her limit.

“Our…… Flame will…… renew the world. Adversary Cain Ethelred, you may think you have won now.”

Cain, instead of answering, silently stared down at her.

Arian uttered a curse, like a final testament.

“Now fear the darkness. For we, the Commons, will always be watching you from the shadows.”

“I’m delighted to have so many eyeballs to pluck out.”

Of course, her words had no effect on him.

“Crazy…… bastard.”

“I have to be crazy to deal with you lunatics.”

Arian crookedly lifted the corners of her lips.

Then she twitched as if trying to raise her arms.

With both arms already severed, all she could do was be pelted by the cold spring rain.

She uttered her last words in a slightly unhinged voice.

“Do you know…… why a witch is called a witch? Heh, I hope the day you find out comes soon……”

Thud━.

Arian’s head slumped to the side, and she collapsed.

Such was the end of the woman who had charmed Count Garick with her beauty, words, and secret magic, and had him wrapped around her finger, controlling his entire county.

Cain stood still for a moment, looking down at the dead Arian, before turning his head to look into the distance.

The soldiers of Crowl still cheering, the grasslands painted by the spring rain, the train stopped in the distance, and his companions standing in front of it.

Among them, he saw the woman in gray.

Oleciren Rune Airian.

The princess who had stepped forward to stop him, regardless of her own safety.

A fledgling witch with miraculous power.

[Samhain’s ‘Winter’ approaches.]

The white crown on Cain’s head and the pure white cloak fluttering from his shoulders scattered like melting snow.

[Fate has encountered a great flame.]

[World Line Fixation: ▲ 13%]

[You have slain the tenth of the Twelve Sisters of Dawn.]

[World Line Fixation: ▲ 14.5%]

[The end glimpses eternity.]

[World Line Fixation: ▲ 15%]

Cain frowned.

He was used to the messages by now, but this was the first time he had seen the World Line Fixation jump up so many times in a row.

Another message followed.

[The world, changed by 15%, embraces a new future.]

Fwaaaaaash━!

Another place began to overlap with Cain’s vision.

‘The Cliffs of Ethelred.’

He saw the white cliffs where the dungeon Eire, which had devoured Edmund, lay beyond, where Arna was buried, and where Warrior Cain and Hero Cain had met again.

Fortunately, there was no grave.

But at the edge of the cliff.

A woman with white hair and himself with black hair stood facing each other.

Puk━.

She grabbed Agweska and pierced Cain’s heart with it.

With the sound of the blade snapping cleanly, Cain fell into the rough sea of Ethelred.

[‘Winter’ wishes for your happiness.]

And then it disappeared.

Cain blinked a few times at the sight that seemed like a hallucination before laughing.

‘The future is mine to create.’

If such a situation were to arise, he would neither let go of Agweska nor be hit by such clumsy swordsmanship.

Crushing the ridiculous future, Cain raised the black Agweska towards the sky.

“Arian is dead━!”

Deafening cheers erupted, shaking the earth.

The people of Crowl were venting their frustrations after suffering under Arian’s rule.

“Open the gates! We must escort Lord Count Crowl and Lady Mia inside!”

Creeeaaak━.

The soldiers pulled the ropes, the pulleys turned, and the iron gates of Ironheart, which were usually kept shut, slowly opened.

Cain sheathed his sword and jumped down from the wall, standing before the open gate.

Ethelred County.

Lamaring County.

And Crowl County.

Three counties under Marquis Ross’s jurisdiction had fallen into the hands of Cain and Oleciren.

Cain looked north.

The giant of the east, Marquis Heatherward Ross, who held the ‘Marquis Belt,’ a vast line running through central Airian, preventing the southern advance of the northern elves.

‘Now he’ll have to get off his heavy backside and make a move.’

And he didn’t forget.

That the four knights of Ross he had seen in Lamaring County all wielded the same green aura.

Everyone’s aura had a different color.

While some might be similar by chance, it was undoubtedly strange for four knights from the same order to have the same aura color.

Furthermore, green was the color of the forest.

Cain turned and walked towards the main street of Ironheart.

‘Glumiêm, who cursed Lady Arna, and Ross have joined hands.’

If the wall meant to stop the elves was painted green, there was only one thing to do.

What he always did.

Cain fiddled with the hilt of Agweska.

He asked for the location of the one who had shot the threatening arrow earlier and almost exposed Oleciren’s secret, then immediately set off.

🔹🔹🔹

Two days after Cain entered Ironheart.

A woman with bright, almost lemon-colored blonde hair tied tightly was writing something under a candlelight.

Arna Ethelred.

A flash of green flickered in her brown eyes.

Crash—!

The window shattered.

Someone, taking advantage of the night, had broken through Countess Ethelred’s castle and come this far!

Arna grabbed her bow, which she always kept within arm’s reach, lowered her body, and pulled the string taut.

“Ar—”

Whoosh—!

Before the masked intruder could finish, an arrow pierced his head.

Thud.

The enemy, his head pierced, collapsed backward.

It would have been different for an ordinary woman or a knight, but for Arna, the ‘Indomitable,’ who had rolled and tumbled as a mercenary, it was only natural.

As if he had no intention of hiding his affiliation, his arm was bound with an orange band, indicating that he was a knight of Marquis Ross.

Arna cautiously tried to examine the body with an arrow.

That’s when.

《I thought you had pulled out all your teeth, but you were hiding them?》

Green smoke rose from the body.

Wary of potential poison, she moved toward the window and pulled the bowstring taut again.

The smoke gathered in the air and formed the shape of a woman.

The woman, lying on her side with her chin resting on her hand, looked at her with languid eyes and pointed ears.

《Say something. Fifteen years ago, you were so eager to talk to me, why have you become so quiet, Arna?》

The ruler of the northern forest who reigned for three hundred years.

The eighth witch to appear in this world.

And the one who cursed Arna and prevented Abel’s birth.

“Queen… Glumiêm.”

She moved.

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