Chapter 20

Chapter 20
Chapter: 20

Chapter Title: Demon Baron (6)

—

“…….”

“…….”

A heavy quiet lingered as they stood over the collapsed nobleman. Kadim made the first move forward, while Duncan, puffing as he scrambled over the defensive wall, struggled to keep pace.

“Is… is the life gone from him, master?”

“Not quite yet.”

The baron was indeed clinging to life, though his breaths were shallow and weak. Given the severity of his trauma, survival was a distant hope. Vital fluids pooled rhythmically from the gashes in his padded gambeson.

Kadim gazed down at the dying man, his voice level.

“A formidable display, Baron. Tearing through such dense plating in a single strike.”

The nobleman’s mouth twitched, his lips pulling back into a bitter grin.

“Heh… haha… without that fiendish strength, it wouldn’t have been possible…”

“…….”

“Even now… even at the end…”

Kadim’s gaze sharpened. Without warning, he unsheathed Mosquito. Duncan recoiled, certain that his master intended to deliver a mercy killing.

Instead of a killing blow, however, Kadim slid the grip of the sword into the baron’s trembling hand.

He then pressed the edge of the steel against his own forearm, opening a minor vein.

“N-no, master! What are you doing—”

Despite Duncan’s panic, this wasn’t an act of madness. Mosquito’s blood-drinking properties functioned even when held by another.

The blade drank greedily of its true owner’s essence, channeling it to knit the baron’s flesh. Wisps of vapor curled from the puncture wound. A ghost of color returned to the baron’s deathly pale skin.

“Ugh… nngh…”

It was merely a brief extension of time. To fully mend such devastation would have required the lifeblood of a hundred souls; a single offering was only enough for a few final moments.

Kadim wiped his arm, sheathed the steel, and sat on the earth with his legs crossed.

“When common men confront a demon, their grand ideals usually shatter, leaving nothing but primal dread and a frantic urge to stay alive.”

“…….”

“But you, Baron—even when broken, like an insect grinding its jaws in the dirt—refused to submit. You expelled the demon’s lingering influence through sheer force of ego and chose to go down with the ship.”

“…….”

“Stop blaming yourself. Such a tempered spirit isn’t found in ordinary men. The blood I gave was a mark of respect for that unyielding heart.”

Duncan’s jaw dropped.

He had always assumed the outlander viewed people as little more than walking meat. He hadn’t realized the warrior was capable of such profound admiration.

The baron stared, his eyes wide with shock. Kadim continued in his characteristic rasp, though it carried a thread of genuine esteem.

“I cannot pull you back from the grave, of course. But I can remain by your side until you cross over. If there are words you have left for this world, speak them now without hesitation, Baron.”

“…Heh, haha. Truly an honor… to have a fighter of your caliber as my final witness…”

He was seized by a violent fit of coughing, spraying crimson. Forcing himself to swallow the copper taste, the nobleman spoke.

“Listen to the final words of a ruined man… a story of myself… no, of Molden and my failures.”

“…….”

“…To be blunt, it was my own avarice. I should have purged that horror the moment I unearthed it…”

Years ago, Baron Molden had been consumed by hopelessness.

He had been granted his status and territory based on the deeds of his forefathers. However, the land he received wasn’t the lush, prosperous region near the holy city he had envisioned—it was the desolate, isolated fringe known as Molden.

He had tried, initially. He overhauled the taxes, recruited blades to fend off outlaws and beasts, and gave cheap land to the destitute. Yet the raiders were relentless, and the poor earth offered only failure and famine.

“That was when I discovered it… a sickening mass of living meat hidden in the depths of the castle…”

Like the entrails of a nightmare, the demon offered a deal: it would transform Molden into a paradise of the realm.

As with all such bargains, there were conditions. Yet they didn’t seem like the demands of a monster.

“The demon commanded… that I love my subjects as if they were my own kin and lose myself in service to the land.”

“…….”

It was a perfect, lethal snare. After much internal torment, the baron agreed.

The demon fulfilled its promise.

Suddenly, the bandits fled and the monsters vanished. The earth became lush, and migrants flooded into Molden. Prosperity bred prosperity, turning the backwater into a jewel of the frontier.

The baron kept his word as well.

At first, the locals viewed him with suspicion, which stung his ego. But he continued to treat them with kindness, and eventually, their hearts thawed. The act of benevolence soon became reality. Before long, he truly did care for them as a father cares for children.

But in the shadows of his mind, a rot of guilt took hold.

“The rebirth of Molden… wasn’t born of my labor. It was bought by clasping hands with a demon… the path of total shame…”

To compensate, he became obsessed with the image of a perfect knight. Even if his own cupboards were bare, he insisted on lavish hospitality for travelers.

Yet no amount of chivalry could drown his dread. He became an insomniac, living in constant fear that the demon’s whim would vanish, turning his paradise back into dust.

Finally, his nightmares manifested.

“I cannot say if it claimed them from the start or later… But when Viscount Adlen and his host stood before my gates… they were already puppets of that thing…”

The demon preferred slow torture to a quick death. It orchestrated the perfect tragedy, bringing the army to the gates at the exact moment to ensure Molden’s total ruin.

“I hunted for any way to break the siege… but I realized I was hollow… Everything I had achieved was built on a foundation of hellfire…”

For four long months, he watched his people waste away, feeling like a parent watching a child die of a fever.

Ultimately, he decided to break the bond with the demon by sacrificing his life to save his home.

Kadim shook his head slowly.

“If the demon had remained whole, your will alone wouldn’t have been enough to kill yourself. You would have been forced to live, and Molden would have burned. That was the demon’s goal—to feed on your ultimate agony.”

“…I am aware. I know it all too well… Even the act of killing the beast and saving the town… depended on the strength of a stranger, not my own… Heh, haha…”

The self-deprecating laughter faded into a rasp. The spark in his eyes began to flicker out. Through a veil of blood, he looked at Kadim with a piercing intensity.

“Even so… despite that… does this count… as finishing the story… by my own hand…?”

It wasn’t a lie. Kadim nodded firmly, ensuring the baron saw the gesture.

The tension left the dying man’s gaze, replaced by a quiet peace. A tired smile played on his mouth. Using the last of his strength, he whispered.

“Give my words to Delphina… I am sorry… that I could not… save the tulips…”

“…….”

With those final words, Baron Molden’s heart fell still.

His head slumped toward his beloved city, his eyes remaining open. A cold morning wind brushed his forehead. Kadim stood in quiet contemplation. Duncan let out a long breath, his expression softened by pity.

“Heavens, what a tragic soul… But… do you have any idea who this Delphina is, master?”

“Likely his wife. It seems they had no heirs.”

Kadim reached down and gently closed the baron’s eyelids. He gathered the body into his arms, lifting it with care. He then looked over at the merchant.

“You’ve worked hard through the night, merchant. One final errand—go find the axe I threw.”

“Eh? Oh, y-yes! Immediately. But… where do we go then, master?”

“Back to the city.”

“…….”

“He should be laid to rest in the heart of the place he loved most.”

As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Kadim walked toward Molden, carrying the weight of a fallen man.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The residents of Molden draped black cloth from every rooftop without exception.

Even those in the most wretched hovels, who owned only the clothes on their backs, did not abstain. They stained their only garments with ash to make them dark, hanging them up to dry while they remained unclothed inside.

The baron’s tomb was constructed in front of the inner citadel, a place where everyone could gather.

Strong young men came forward to carve the monument and prepare the earth. Children and young women brought baskets of wild blooms to carpet the ground. The elderly dug up hidden treasures and coins to offer at the site. Though hunger gnawed at them all, not a single person touched food or water on the day of the burial.

The people of Molden felt this was the only way to honor him.

The story was that the baron had died fighting the invaders single-handedly to the bitter end. The commoners, unaware of the supernatural rot beneath the surface, simply wept for their lost protector.

The soldiers tasked with clearing the battlefield were less certain. As they moved over four hundred bodies, they were plagued by confusion.

How had a lone barbarian and the baron managed to slaughter four hundred men? Why had the enemy seemed like walking skeletons? Why had Viscount Adlen transformed into a horror? What had they really been fighting?

No answers were provided. The one man who knew the truth, Kadim, remained tight-lipped. And no soldier possessed the courage to demand answers from the grim outlander.

Following what they believed to be the baron’s intent, his widow took up the mantle of leadership. There was no dissent. She had always been a sharp advisor and a compassionate lady, and the people held her in high regard.

Her first act as the new lord was to bid farewell to the travelers.

At the main gate of Molden, the widow bowed low before the warrior and the merchant.

“We are deeply in your debt, mercenary. Though you owed us nothing, you stood for Molden when it mattered most. In the name of my husband, I thank you from my heart.”

“It isn’t necessary. The baron paid the price in full.”

Kadim tapped the throwing axe tucked into his belt. Even the widow, who knew nothing of war, could tell the weapon was extraordinary.

She felt no resentment. A great blade belonged with a great master. Leaving it in a display case would have been an insult. If anything, she felt the man who saved them deserved far more.

“That is a small thing. We have gathered gold and supplies for you. It is a pittance compared to your service, but please take it for your travels…”

Kadim shook his head.

“I have no use for your gold or your scraps. Take this advice instead.”

“I beg your pardon? What advice…?”

“There is a valley a short distance to the west—a camp for a group of bandits. If you look, you will find a massive hoard of food and gear. I could only take a fraction; the rest remains.”

“…….”

“Give it to your people. The bandits won’t be using it; I killed them all.”

The widow stood in stunned silence, her mouth slightly agape.

To Kadim, it was merely disposing of excess baggage. To her, it was a miracle that would save her starving city.

Before she could even repay the first favor, he had handed her another. She could only bow again, her voice thick with emotion.

“I will never forget what you have done. Your allies are Molden’s allies; your enemies are ours. If your path brings you back, please return to us. We will welcome you with the highest honors.”

Kadim gave a dismissive wave. The Magic Tower was far off; making promises to return was pointless. The future was too uncertain for such things.

Before he stepped away, there was one final task. Kadim looked at the woman and asked,

“You are Delphina, correct?”

“I am. How did you know…?”

“The baron gave me a message for you before the end. He said he was sorry he couldn’t protect the tulips.”

“…….”

The world seemed to go still.

The widow remained frozen in place.

A shimmer appeared in her eyes, a rising tide of memory. She remembered his face, the way he would make light of things just to keep her from worrying.

As the ruler of the city, she could not break down in public. She shut her eyes tight, her jaw set against the trembling of her lips. Yet a single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.

Kadim turned his back. His work here was finished. The living had their mourning to do; it was time for the wanderer to move on.

He had walked a fair distance past the gates when a voice called out.

“M-master…? Look back there.”

In the distance, the widow was running toward them, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Kadim stopped. She reached them, struggling to speak through her exhaustion.

“Mercenary, one last thing… I must ask…”

“…….”

“I know that night was filled with things beyond understanding. I know you have your reasons for keeping the truth hidden. But as his wife, I need to know one thing.”

“…….”

“…The weapon that took my husband’s life—was it truly his own hand that guided it?”

Kadim offered a silent nod.

The color drained from her face. She forced out the question that was tearing at her.

“…Tell me the truth, mercenary. Did he lose himself to the demon? Did he die as a puppet, ending his life in misery? He who valued honor above all else… was his end truly that pathetic?”

It wasn’t a question; it was a plea for a reason to keep her head high.

Kadim had no interest in lying to make people feel better. Luckily, the truth sufficed.

He spoke plainly.

“No.”

“…….”

“With a spirit of iron, he destroyed the demon and died with more honor than anyone I have ever met.”

With that, he turned and continued his journey.

“…….”

The midday sun beat down upon the open road. Without the shade of trees, the warrior and the merchant walked under the full weight of the heat. The widow remained where she stood until they were nothing more than dots on the horizon, her head bowed in a long, silent gesture of gratitude.

She whispered her thanks into the wind.

Over and over.

Because of him, she could remember her husband not as the Demon Baron, but as the master of Molden.