Chapter 53

Chapter 53
## Chapter 53: The Tainted Memorial

“Are they truly the same legends who pledged their lives to this land and its people?”

Priest Andrew stood in a state of pure shock. He could not wrap his mind around the sight before him. How could these so-called icons so callously demolish the grave markers of his fallen brothers—men who had fought and bled by his side?

These were the five hundred warriors who had spearheaded the great trek into the abyss of the demon territory, offering themselves up as a shield for the world. Though their reputations hadn’t echoed across the continent like the famed Eight Heroes, and though the history books might have overlooked them, the common folk of this city had used their own meager savings to raise these stones in tribute.

He watched, horrified, unable to grasp the motive behind such desecration.

“……”

My gaze remained fixed on the jagged remnants of stone littering the town square. Originally, those monuments bore the names of five hundred brave souls.

“James, Noah, Lucas, Jacob, Zion, Vihma, Bram…”

I recited them internally. Their names were burned into my memory, and they earned the right to have them etched in stone. They were the ones who had marched into the jaws of death in the demon realm alongside me, driven by nothing but duty. They were honorable men and women who didn’t hesitate to sacrifice everything for their kin and their neighbors.

Now, however, the stones were shattered, the original inscriptions filed away to make room for different titles.

『Maxim.』
『Gracia.』
『Master.』
『Darkstar.』
『Black Night.』
『Banhee.』
『Wilhelm.』
『Lucifer.』

The carvings now sang praises of the eight “saviors” who supposedly rescued the world from the demon tides and the Demon King. It seemed their vanity outweighed the memory of five hundred martyrs. They had crowded their own names onto the rubble of those they replaced.

I finally understood the perspective held by the Eight Heroes—or at least, Maxim’s perspective—regarding the casualties of that war. They were systematically deleting the true combatants from history. They were attempting to scrub the very record of the expedition itself.

It was exactly what Wilhelm would have done.

“……Every soul with a shred of honor perished back then.”

The only ones left were those who lacked it. Only the timid and the brazenly opportunistic had crawled back alive.

I didn’t necessarily blame those who fled out of sheer terror; fear is a primal force, and that battlefield was a literal nightmare. But for those runaways to pretend they were never there—and worse, to steal the glory of those who actually stood their ground—was a line I couldn’t allow them to cross. They weren’t just stealing honor; they were cannibalizing it, swapping truth for lies until my blood boiled.

What was most absurd was that among these eight “paragons,” some hadn’t even set foot on the expedition. I found myself wondering: Why?

The entire world, from Pangeniar to Earth, was teetering on the edge of ruin. In an era where every hand should be joined in cooperation, why were they so intent on sowing discord? Why were they so determined to test my limits?

“Bring it down!”
“Put your backs into it! Lean on it!”
“Watch out, it’s going over!”

*CRASH!*

A deafening roar pulled my attention toward the toppling monuments. These were statues crafted in the likeness of the noble knights who defined the soul of this city. They were the people’s pride, yet now the soldiers were forcing the citizens themselves to tear them down.

“We’re done! No more!”
“Why are we being forced into this madness?”
“If you want them down so badly, break your own backs doing it!”

The crowd began to push back. In response, the soldiers unsheathed their blades.

“You want your heads displayed on pikes next to the others? This comes from the Eight Hero Maxim himself. Even Marquis Wyzer gave the word.”
“The Marquis must have been coerced! He’d never allow this!”
“You monsters! What did Granny May ever do to deserve that?”
“She was finally finding a reason to wake up in the morning, and you did this to her!”
“Damn you all! We won’t stand for it!”

As the citizens surged forward, the soldiers stood their ground, weapons leveled.

“Execute anyone who resists!”
“You think we’re afraid of your steel?”
“Draw your weapons!”

These were the soldiers of the Valan Kingdom, and this was a Valan city, yet they drew blood from their own countrymen without a second thought. They killed with terrifying ease.

I looked toward the gruesome trophy displayed in the square: the head of May. She was the elderly woman I’d met when I first arrived, weeping over a grave. She was the grandmother of Zion, one of the five hundred. I remembered carrying her to Andrew after she fainted from grief. She had finally started to move on from her grandson’s death, but that was her undoing. She must have spoken out when she saw Zion’s name being erased, and they silenced her with a blade.

—Ignore it. Stay out of sight. If they realize the heir is here, Maxim will come for you.

Andrew’s warning rang in my ears. Walk away. From a purely logical standpoint, it was the right move. Maxim was a powerhouse. Even as a coward who fled the front lines, he had led the mercenary company I once employed. He was at least a Level 10. More importantly, he possessed “transcendence qualification,” meaning he had hit the ceiling of all his attributes.

If he had leveled up further since the war, or reached transcendence, I stood no chance in a direct fight. The smartest move would be to call upon the White King and have Maxim’s entire stronghold leveled.

“Aaargh!”
“You murderers!”

So, was I supposed to just swallow my pride? Should I play it safe and pretend I didn’t see the blood on the cobblestones?

“I’ve got this,” Isabella said, drawing her weapon.
“This is what you brought me along for, right? To handle the messy parts?” Isaac added, his steel flashing.

In that instant, a notification flared.

《A ‘party’ has been established.》
《’Bond’ effect active.》

For the first time, our spirits were perfectly aligned.

《’Iron-Blooded Lord’s Heart’ permits the experience of ‘righteous fury.’》
《This is a moment where a leader must act.》
《’Hidden Trait Quest: Iron-Blooded Lord’ initiated.》

I didn’t hold back. As the one who had led those fallen knights, as the King of Knights, it was my duty to be furious.

—

“So you’re the charlatan pretending to be the Knight King’s heir?”

Maxim gave a mocking smirk, idly twirling his blade. He had wondered who was causing the ruckus, only to find a boy playing dress-up as Wilhelm’s successor. Ever since the Knight King’s passing, countless pretenders had crawled out of the woodwork.

“Rich. A Level 6 actually thinks he can carry that title!” Maxim barked with laughter.

His ability to see levels confirmed the boy was barely a threat. Maxim’s ‘Level Confirmation’ skill, having undergone two stages of transcendence, allowed him to see the raw power of anything in this world. It didn’t show specific skills, but knowing the level was enough. It was how he had survived so long—he never picked a fight he couldn’t win. And a Level 6? He could crush such a bug with a thought.

‘He has backup, but they likely aren’t worth the effort.’

He assumed the party members currently carving through his castle guards were of a similar caliber.

“Marquis Wyzer, did you hire this actor to try and take me out?”
“……!”
“Well, I’ll just have to kill him and then settle the score with you…”

“Maxim the Deserter.”

“……?”

Maxim’s brow twitched. “Are you talking to me?”

“The moment ‘Ahram’ appeared, you ran like a dog with its tail between its legs. How do you live with the lie of being a ‘Hero’?”
“……”
“You abandoned three hundred of your own men to die just so you could breathe another day. You aren’t a hero; you’re a coward.”
“……!”

The mockery vanished from Maxim’s face. Almost no one alive knew about his flight from the battlefield. The other Heroes knew, but anyone else who had witnessed it was either dead or silenced by his hand. Yet this boy was speaking of events that should have been buried.

“You’re speaking nonsense.”
“Actually, you owe me quite a bit of coin.”
“Coin?”
“Twelve million gold pieces. That was the price I paid to hire a man of your supposed caliber.”
“……!!!”

That specific number—the private contract fee paid directly to him outside of the mercenary guild—was a secret known only to two people: himself and Knight King Wilhelm.

Maxim’s mind raced. This person knew things that were impossible for a stranger to know.

“You… Could it be…”

It was unthinkable. But if there was even a shred of a chance… if this boy wasn’t a fraud? Was he a secret disciple? An inner-circle confidant? Or…

‘The Phantom…’

The player known as Phantom! But no, a Level 6 wouldn’t be Phantom. Phantom was known for being calculating, not for charging into a suicide mission. Even so, this boy was clearly linked to him.

‘I’ll beat him within an inch of his life. He’ll tell me everything then.’

If he could extract information about Phantom, he could surpass everyone. He wouldn’t just be one of eight heroes; he would be the only one that mattered.

*WHOOSH!*

Dark, abyssal flames licked around Maxim’s frame. The Demon Heart—the source of his corrupted, celestial power—erupted.

‘I’ll make this quick.’

Against a Level 6, he didn’t even need a full strike. He would move faster than the boy’s eyes could track. Maxim lunged, closing the distance in a heartbeat, his dagger aimed for the shoulder. He planned to shred the tendons, then use torture to wring out every secret the boy possessed.

*CLANG!*

…The blade was parried.

The boy had read the movement perfectly and intercepted the strike. Maxim recoiled, stunned.

‘What was that?’

That wasn’t the reaction speed of a Level 6. Furthermore, his own hand was stinging, a searing heat creeping up his arm. No standard iron blade should have been able to bite back like that.

“Holy water…!”

Maxim realized then that the boy’s dual swords were coated in the substance—and not just any diluted church water, but the highest grade of sanctified fluid. The mere contact was agonizing.

“So you came prepared with a gimmick,” Maxim spat, regaining his composure. He still didn’t believe he could lose. Holy water was a threat, but only if it touched him. High-grade holy water was rare; the boy likely only had a light coating.

‘Evil Acceleration.’

Maxim’s pulse quickened to a violent rhythm. His perception shifted; the world turned grey and sluggish, leaving only him moving at full speed. This was the absolute dominance granted by the Demon Heart. He began to circle the boy, leaving a trail of afterimages. He wanted to play with his prey, to let him feel the despair of being unable to even see the killing blow.

With a smirk, Maxim lunged for the killing blow.

*Squelch!*

“Guh…?”

A choked gasp escaped Maxim’s throat. Out of all the illusions and speed, the boy had found the true body and driven a blade home. Maxim expected the Demon Heart to instantly knit the wound, but his senses were failing him.

‘How… how much holy water is on that blade?’

The flesh around the wound was rotting instantly, turning black and brittle. A high-level warrior’s body was supposed to be as hard as diamond, especially when reinforced by the Demon Heart. Yet he had been cut open like parchment. No regeneration occurred.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. How could a Level 6 track a Level 10’s accelerated movements? And how was the blade so saturated? It wasn’t just coated; it was as if the metal itself was made of the holy substance.