Beneath the tall spire of wood stretched a bramble-covered wall, long to both left and right. The wall’s outer surface shimmered with a wave of resentful cries from lingering souls.

Aaaaahhhh—!

Incomprehensible whispers, layered beneath low, droning sounds that mimicked a melody, and then piercing screams that cut through the two voices—

It was a choir made of malevolent spirits. The chorus of souls clad in thorny shrouds rang in one’s ears and pounded against the heart.

A harmony steeped in despair and fear, sorrow and agony.

It was ominous. The kind of resonance that instilled anxiety in all who heard it, making one feel they might as well just join those things or die instead.

Of course, that was for ordinary people. It didn’t apply to the Mad Order of Knights.

“Damn, that’s loud.”

Rem had already established his own domain through sorcery. Even without it, he wasn’t the type to be affected by the screams of such petty things.

He dug in his ear with his pinky, then blew on it lightly. Then he tossed out another comment.

“Can you quiet down?”

His sorcery specialized in shaping form. Rem’s strength lay in pulling out what was needed on the fly and customizing it.

Almost before his words had even ended, a black shadow surged up behind his back.

No one present knew it, but that thing held the spirit of a tiger beast that had survived over a hundred years in the Pen-Hanil Mountains.

It was a being that devoured souls whole—an enemy of malevolent spirits.

Aaaa—ah, ah.

The noise from the bramble wall began to recede.

The ghostly eyes carved into the wood along the wall turned away. Though they were just roughly hewn wood without detail or pupils, they seemed to avert their gaze. The wall appeared to have grown afraid.

“Shhh.”

Rem raised an index finger to his lips and whispered.

While Enkrid stared ahead indifferently, Teresa slightly opened her mouth—then closed it. It wasn’t from surprise. She had almost stepped forward, but now she realized she didn’t need to.

What Rem had done might warrant astonishment, but no one here reacted with shock.

That much was expected.

Naturally, all eyes turned upward.

The towering tree was no different from a human-made spire. Its broad branches served as platforms—also the reason why the navy-skinned fae had been able to roll sideways and dodge the spearhead Enkrid had thrown.

The one in black armor loosened his grip on his shield.

It was the shield that had blocked Enkrid’s forcefully thrown spear, now bearing a shallow gash.

Woo-ooong—ooong.

A vibration rang out from inside the visor. Some sort of utterance, though the words were unintelligible. The fallen fae placed a hand on the ground and stood again.

His eyes turned toward Enkrid.

“You.” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Not quite shocked, but surprised, those eyes now glared at Enkrid.

“If you stare like that, it’s embarrassing.”

Enkrid shrugged as he replied, and beside him, Shinar offered soft support in a low voice.

“A rotten thing, too foul to become nourishment, dares to lay eyes on anyone?”

Meanwhile, Lua Gharne stepped forward a few paces, flicked her whip skillfully, retrieved the fallen relic-spear, and tossed it back to Enkrid.

With a firm thwap, Enkrid caught it, gripped the shaft, pressed it down, folded it back into rod form, and strapped it at his waist.

“Bit of a flashy start.”

Rophod muttered.

“What is that thing?”

Pell pointed ahead as he asked.

The will to cut through the wall—whatever it was—radiated off him.

“A dusty old fae, that’s what.”

The magic spirit, whom neither Pell nor Rophod even bothered to acknowledge, insulted Shinar.

“Fruit must ripen to be sweet.”

Shinar replied calmly.

She even whispered to Enkrid, saying how things aged to perfection are delicious, as is the way of the world.

Whatever anger she might have felt, she was the sort to speak her mind regardless. That had always been Enkrid’s impression of Shinar.

This was a demon realm, and before them stood the Thorn Castle—a rare construct even within that demonic zone—but no one appeared intimidated. More than calm, they were practically at leisure.

An attitude that didn’t match the setting or situation—in other words, dissonance.

“Well, look at you.”

That’s when it happened. Below the treetop spire, above the bramble wall, a man appeared, staring this way blankly.

His skin was dusky, but still within what you’d call human. Ordinary features one might see anywhere.

Brown hair and brown eyes.

The only notable trait was his slightly large build—but still smaller than Audin or Teresa.

Though he was up high and hard to measure exactly, a general sense could be guessed.

Enkrid’s gaze turned to him. Their eyes met. The man seemed to instantly recognize who stood at the center of this incoming group.

Enkrid hadn’t thought many humans lived in the demon realm, so he asked:

“Sanctuary Church?”

He knew that the Demon Realm Sanctuary Church was a cult that worshipped the demon realm. It wouldn’t be surprising if some of its members lived here.

It was easy to assume that not all of them stayed on the continent.

“Sanctuary Church? Why the hell are you bringing up those morons? I’m a disciple of the Red Foot.”

Enkrid didn’t understand a word the man said. Red Foot? What now?

There was a gap in information between them.

The issue was that neither of them had any intention of resolving the other’s confusion.

There was something else odd about the man—he spoke the imperial tongue, but his intonation was oddly off.

“Yap yap yap.”

Rem cut in.

“What is it?”

Pell asked again.

Lua Gharne and Rophod had been trying to locate an entrance through the bramble wall for a while now.

The two of them exchanged words but kept doing their task.

But no entrance could be seen anywhere. Did they scale the wall every time?

The magic spirit, gripping his longbow, continued to glare at Enkrid. Shinar, in turn, stared back with slow intensity.

“What’s the Red Foot?”

Enkrid, paying no mind to what his group was doing, threw another question at the man.

Instead of answering, the man looked around the group and said,

“A being who will become a god.”

No point asking further. You wouldn’t get any real answer.

That was what instinct told him.

“Right. Of course.”

Enkrid replied vaguely. The man standing atop the wall scoffed as he answered,

“This is Thorn Castle. And I am its lord.”

“Huh, yeah, you look like it.”

While the man took a breath, Enkrid spoke. Both had raised their voices, and those voices echoed around them.

Then the man curled up one side of his lips in a sneer and looked down on the group. His voice was calm and ordinary—but that made it all the more irritating.

The mere act of speaking calmly in a moment like this was infuriating.

“So what exactly can you do?”

His voice was quieter now, yet somehow clearer than when he’d shouted.

It stuck right in the ear.

“...Kya.”

The group fell silent for a moment at his words. Then Rem was the first to react, admiringly.

Damn, look at this guy, bursting with confidence.

The man lifted his foot and tapped it against the floor. A show of, I have a wall on my side—or something like that.

Enkrid laughed. Moments like this—what was it? They made his blood sing.

There had been a time when, lacking strength, he couldn’t protect those behind him. That had happened more than once.

To achieve what one desires, what’s needed is power.

He’d heard that advice many times, and Enkrid had come to the same conclusion. That’s why he wielded his sword.

But there were times when, no matter how desperately he swung it, he couldn’t do a thing.

Yes, those times existed. When he was weak, trampled down and shoved aside. But not anymore.

And so—looking at a guy like that, stepping forward, made him curious.

What would happen when the thing he placed his faith in came crashing down?

He didn’t know what this “Red Foot” was, but it clearly stood on par with the Sanctuary Church.

And before coming here, hadn’t Zoraslav warned him?

“You must beware the priest.”

Well, that was all Zoraslav knew. That man had supposedly taken people from the village multiple times.

“You’re the priest, right?”

Enkrid asked. The man now slowly raised both corners of his mouth. The smile rose so high it looked like it would touch the corners of his eyes.

An unnatural smile. Clearly different from a human’s.

Yeah, you’re not an ordinary human either.

If anything, looking so normal on the outside only made him further from the category of “normal.”

There’s no way someone who lives in a place like the demon realm and builds a castle like this is sane.

“So you thought getting through the Grumrut swarm was the end of it?”

The man snickered. Behind his back, black soot began to rise and take form. Though it had no wings, the shadow was composed of enormous muscle. Even though it was smoke-black, the lumpy shapes were clearly visible.

“No chance in hell. Marcante Burta Han—”

The last part wasn’t aimed at Enkrid’s group.

“Bur.”

The reply came from the woman on top of the spire, the magic spirit. She lowered her longbow and spoke.

“Survive. Because I’m going to be the one who kills you.”

Her words were directed at Enkrid.

Whatever trick it was, even whispering from up there, the magic spirit’s voice came through clearly. Even though the treetop spire rose to the height where one had to crane their neck to see, it didn’t matter.

“Worry not. I’ll protect you.”

Shinar responded.

“Felt more like I was the one protecting you the whole way here.”

Enkrid turned his head lazily as he said that, and Shinar gave a faint smile.

“And that’s why I was happy.”

A straightforward expression of affection—there wasn’t much he could say in return.

AaaaAAAAAAA—

As the man presumed to be the priest finished speaking, the wall howled again.

The chorus of souls clad in thorny shrouds now rang louder and deeper than before.

At this level, even knights would have a hard time resisting the effect.

“Hmph.”

Rophod let out a puff through his nose. The jarring sound rippled from his ears through his entire body.

“They’re coming.”

That was Jaxon’s voice. Even without heightened senses, it was easy to feel the presence.

From both sides of the wall and from behind, black lumps rolled across the ground like things dropping off—it was a horde of ghouls. Their entire bodies stained black, the demon realm’s ghouls seemed different from others.

“Scream all night. I’ll use your screams as my lullaby.”

The priest felt a surge of curiosity. Let’s see how long they can rampage. It’s been a while since anything fun showed up.

So he added that line.

Enkrid turned his head from side to side once, then looked at the wall and thought.

What should I do now?

KyaaaaAACK!

Overhead, three black birds large enough to carry off a person circled in the sky.

A few feathers dropped from their bodies.

Each falling feather was about half the size of Audin’s forearm. Beasts of considerable size. Technically, they were modified beasts, but no one present could know that.

Looking at the monsters and beasts, Enkrid realized one thing for certain.

If we’d left this place alone, everyone would’ve died.

Even now, the thought passed through his head as he recalled the Eroded village.

Outside, they had already swept away all the monsters and small colonies. As a result, they had protected a single Eroded village tainted by demonic energy.

But placing significance on protecting them meant nothing—because the beasts inside here were far beyond that level.

The ghouls approached, and their appearance was strange as well.

Suture marks were scattered across their necks and heads. Their mouths were sewn shut, and it looked like their skulls had been split and stitched back together. Some sort of manipulation by a monster, that much was certain.

The first to move at the sight of the approaching ghouls was Jaxon. In a flash, he had reached one ghoul’s back.

Then, with a stiletto, he stabbed its neck, and with a kick, he shattered its ankle.

After that, he discarded all stealth and retreated, leaving a motion blur behind. It looked like a long streak formed entirely out of Jaxon’s afterimage.

From the stabbed ghoul’s neck, black and yellow pus-like lumps began to swell. The bloated pus grew bigger than its head, then to the size /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ of its torso—and exploded.

Boom!

With a loud noise, the black and yellow pus sprayed in all directions.

The moment Jaxon saw the ghoul’s irregular appearance, he had sensed danger and moved to analyze their attack method.

It was appropriate and effective. Now they knew: these things explode into pus when they die.

“The smell’s awful.”

Shinar said, drawing her Leaf Blade out about a handspan. Around the sword bloomed the scent of flowers and forest, but it wasn’t enough to stop the exploding ghouls.

When struck, they scatter plague in all directions. You could resist to a degree—but there were just too many of these plague ghouls.

Heheheheh.

Somewhere, that bastard’s laughter echoed again.

Enkrid saw the mass of ghouls charging forward—not on two feet, but bounding forward on all fours.

There’s quite a lot.

“Audin.”

“It is not my turn, Brother.”

“Oh, then Teresa?”

“Yes.”

The half-giantess calmly stepped forward at Enkrid’s call, her eyes steady and still.

She planted her shield into the ground. Then climbed onto it. She used the shield as a narrow, elevated platform.

And just like that, she had created her own small stage.

***

Once upon a time, Count Molsen had commanded a chimera unit. He had modified semi-knights and tried to elevate them to full-knight level.

Tracing the origin of all that research would lead one to this man.

Would these be suitable as test subjects for plague ghouls?

All the top elites of the continent seemed to have gathered—so surely, they’d provide that much.

The priest had hollowed out the ghouls’ bodies and refined evil spirits to inject plague into them.

It was a task that required mastery in incantation, sorcery, alchemy—all of it.

He’d also deployed modified crow beasts, and even crystal-armored knights.

Hold out longer and show me something interesting.

The priest sincerely hoped for that. They’d likely last quite a while. Then they’d need time to ripen.

So, thinking that, he returned to his room to sort through his research and ideas.

Once night fell, the monsters would become even more frenzied.

In the demon realm, even sunlight turned ashen. Unless it was a Red Moon, even moonlight struggled to pierce through.

Thus, the nights here were pitch-black. Meaning the humans outside would suffer even more.

Some time later. Just as he was about to rise to watch the scene for a bit—

Kugugung.

He felt a tremor. It was no small rumble.

Kyaaaaah.

At the same time, the song of Thorn Castle turned into a scream.

Kugugugugung.

The tremor grew stronger. It felt like the entire castle was shaking.

And it wasn’t just a feeling.