Chapter 38 - Gawain (1)

More than a dozen chains hurtled toward Yohan as he took flight—holy magic meant to capture him. In his Demon form, he could easily have dodged such chains. The problem was the Book of Doom.

'It's too cumbersome.'

Flying with a human-sized mirror clutched in his arms made his movements sluggish and awkward.

"Don't let him escape!"

"Throw everything at him!"

They even brought consecrated arrows and enormous snares into play. Weapons filled the air. Alternating between gliding and climbing, Yohan narrowly evaded the attacks.

'This will never end at this rate.'

The enemy's numbers kept swelling while his stamina steadily dwindled. Those gathered here were only small fry, but overwhelmingly powerful foes would soon join them. As he was now, Yohan had no way to contend with them. He might have to abandon the Book of Doom and focus entirely on escaping.

The moment that thought occurred to him, the Book of Doom began shaking in his arms. It kept shuddering as it turned into black smoke, crumbling into powder as though weathering away. The drifting black particles were absorbed into his body.

Red letters immediately filled his vision. The same phenomenon had occurred when he evolved after offering Betra as a sacrifice.

'No time to read it.'

Escape came first.

Without the cumbersome Book of Doom, Yohan moved noticeably faster. He began easily dodging the weapons hurtling toward him, gaining enough breathing room to climb higher. He spread his wings wide and shot upward, a black shadow racing across the night sky.

"Catch him!"

"Don't you dare let him get away!"

The desperate shouts grew ever more distant.

* * *

Yohan folded his wings and descended to the ground. Continuing to fly was simply impossible. Clergy were stationed everywhere, and a holy sealing array encircled the entire area. He was completely surrounded, with no gap to escape through.

This was the gravest crisis he had faced since possessing this body, but there was a solution.

'Wait until morning.'

When the sun rose, Yohan would turn human. The cordon would mean nothing to him then. They would not even ask why he had come here. The Church had lit its beacons, and answering that summons was only natural for a noble. Indeed, many nobles were already making their way here of their own accord. Yohan would simply become one of them.

As long as he could hold out until morning, his survival was assured.

Yohan headed straight into the cave before him. From what he had seen in the air, this was the best hiding place available: a rocky cavern deep within a dense sea of trees. An entirely enclosed space, it would not be easy even to search. If they somehow found him, it would already be morning.

'I've bought myself at least a few hours.'

Once inside, Yohan surveyed his surroundings. There was not a speck of light, but his Demon eyes could distinguish every object clearly. Clusters of stalactites dripped lime-rich water from the ceiling, while stalagmites jutted from the ground like sharp teeth. Clammy moisture enveloped him.

Yohan felt as though he were walking inside a beast's maw. This must be what he would have seen had Kaiaze swallowed him. With a faint chuckle, he sprawled on the ground.

'I'm exhausted.'

These past few days had felt like a month. From the moment he touched the original Book of Doom until now, one incident had followed another without giving him a moment to breathe. His birth mother had suddenly regained her senses, Kaiaze had manifested on earth, and the Church was hunting him.

All of it stemmed from a single cause: touching the original Book of Doom. That was where this whole mess had begun. Come to think of it, he had done so at Ilea's urging. He had no intention of blaming her, but there was one thing he wondered. Had she foreseen this situation?

He doubted it. Had Ilea anticipated Kaiaze's manifestation, she would surely have stayed by his side. Yet she had left to obtain a copy of the Book of Doom. In short, even the witch had lacked information about Kaiaze. That was what the circumstances suggested, at least. It did nothing to dispel his peculiar unease.

'I can never tell what she's thinking.'

Yohan sank briefly into thought, looking back on the past. Even before he touched the Book of Doom, Ilea had seemed certain that he was an Apostle. What had convinced her?

'She did give some reasonably persuasive reasons.'

At the same time, had they not been a little flimsy? What if Ilea had concealed the decisive reason?

Yohan shook his head.

'She has no motive to do that.'

To Ilea, Yohan was her heart. No one would play games with their own heart. He decided to stop speculating. It was only filling him with pointless suspicions. Better to ask her directly later than brood over it alone.

Just as he was shaking off those thoughts, his keen hearing caught an unfamiliar sound.

TAP, TAP.

Slow footsteps.

Yohan sprang to his feet and turned toward the sound. At that same instant, a flash burst from deeper within the cave. A long streak of light shot toward him with a shriek of air.

'Damn it!'

He swiftly twisted aside. The radiance grazed his cheek and buried itself in the wall. An explosion thundered behind him, scattering fragments of stalactites and stalagmites in all directions.

Yohan stood motionless, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Black blood streamed down his torn cheek. Slow applause reached his ears.

"I didn't expect you to dodge that."

A snow-white silhouette was approaching. Yohan narrowed his eyes, finally making out the intruder.

"Not bad."

The gentle voice belonged to a knight clad in white holy armor. He stopped abruptly and made a small gesture. A snow-white spear rose behind Yohan and flew back to the holy knight—the weapon that had attacked him.

The instant Yohan saw the man holding the holy spear, his expression twisted.

'It can't be...'

Unusual purple hair cut to ear length, pitch-black eyes, and, most telling of all, an excessively ornate spear shaft. One person immediately came to mind.

Gawain de Artelga. One of the protagonists of the original novel, the third prince of the Kingdom of Artelga, and a guardian holy knight of the Holy Kingdom.

His appearance and bearing matched the original novel's description so closely that he was unmistakable. Yohan examined him more carefully, hoping he might be wrong, but his conclusion remained unchanged.

'It's Gawain.'

The certainty brought a throbbing headache. Once again, the greatest crisis of his life had surpassed the last. Gawain was a monster in the truest sense. Unlike Shaperia, who relied on hard work, he was a genius like Ilea, already close to fully developed. At this point, he might even surpass her in combat strength. Yohan had encountered someone far too powerful for him to face.

He gave a hollow laugh.

'I really am exhausted.'

The cut from the holy spear seemed to sting all the more. It was a wound that would not even heal. Injuries the holy spear Espada inflicted on Demons could never be healed. The situation was bad in more ways than one.

Gawain spoke in a languid voice.

"That's an odd look. Do you recognize me?"

The bastard was perceptive, too.

"Of course. I know you well."

The lazy genius, the restless wanderer, the wastrel obsessed with wine and women, the disgrace of Artelga's royal family, the accursed kinslayer... Yohan knew enough about Gawain to rattle off an endless string of epithets.

Gawain scratched his head.

"Have we met before?"

"No. I've heard a few things about you."

"I suppose I'm fairly famous among Demons, too."

"Oh, you're famous all right. A paragon of sloth. You're a holy knight, but you don't have much interest in slaying Demons, do you?"

"You've got that right. I was planning to hole up somewhere and kill time today, too. This cave looked promising. I didn't expect someone to be here already."

Yohan's luck was fucking awful. Of all places, he had chosen the same hiding spot as Gawain.

'Nothing ever goes my way.'

Yohan waved a hand dismissively.

"Well, now you know. Find somewhere else. Off you go."

Gawain stared at him in disbelief, then burst out laughing. He even shed a few tears. It was an innocent reaction befitting a boy his age.

"You're a funny one. You're White Horn, aren't you? The one who dragged the Apostle Beris away."

"White Horn?"

Come to think of it, the clergy earlier had called Yohan White Horn, too.

"Yes, White Horn. You're quite famous yourself."

He had acquired a nickname without even knowing it. Yohan rubbed his white horn.

"Well, I suppose that does sound like me."

Gawain let out a long sigh.

"To think I'd run into you in this cave, of all places. Bad luck for both of us."

"We can simply go our separate ways. What's the problem?"

"Can't do that. I have my position to consider."

Gawain slowly drew up his holy power. Snow-white radiance began rippling around him. Yohan clicked his tongue.

'... So much for letting this slide.'

Even Gawain had to fulfill his duty once he encountered a Demon. He could not strike some casual compromise with one simply because fighting was a bother. He leveled his spear at Yohan.

"Let's make this quick."

A sense of danger was consuming Yohan. Though he did not show it, extreme tension coursed through his entire body. As he was now, he could never defeat Gawain, not even with a second life. He had to use his head.

While buying time with conversation, he had devised a plan: make Gawain lose control. The boy was still young and could not fully control his own power. Its overwhelming output often shattered the foundations that contained it, and terrible accidents followed each time. Such as his immense power consuming his own mother.

Gawain, the accursed kinslayer. The profaner who had killed the queen of Artelga—his own birth mother.

Yohan looked at the holy spear aimed at him and spoke.

"That's the spear that tore your mother apart."

Gawain froze. A chill crept into his perpetually relaxed expression.

"The same tired attack every Demon uses."

"It's not an attack. I'm merely curious. Why haven't you thrown that spear away?"

"What I do with it is none of your business."

"Let me guess. You mean to atone. To cover your mother's red blood with black."

Gawain tightened his grip on the spear.

"I think I'll have to tear out your tongue."

He kicked off the ground. A snow-white flash raced through the darkness, closing the distance in an instant. The spearhead was right before Yohan's eyes. Just before his skull could be shattered, Yohan took flight.

A black silhouette soared into the darkness. Red eyes blinked near the lofty ceiling, and the Demon's sinister laughter echoed through the cave.

"If not atonement, then repentance? Do you keep that spear beside you to recall the day you tore your mother to death? Is this self-pity, a way to ensure you never forget your sin?"

The air began to churn. Immense holy power poured from Gawain, flooding the cave with white light. Yohan paid it no heed. Kazan's corrupted ring continued to shield him from the holy power. He went on speaking.

"Stop struggling. You could never forget that day anyway. How could you? Her face, still smiling as it grew pale and cold. Her voice soothing you, telling you it was all right. Her bloodied hand caressing your cheek. The warmth fading in your arms. Even the silence that had surrounded you before you knew it. Tell me, how could you possibly forget?"

Maniacal laughter rang through the cave.

"Neither atonement, nor repentance, nor self-pity can lay your mother's soul to rest! How pitiful! To live with the truth that nothing can save either mother or son!"

Gawain's holy power exploded. Everything around him blazed white. The once-dark cave was engulfed in white light.