**The Devil’s Sacred Sword (8)**

Thud, thud, thud—!

Lucia gritted her teeth. Her head bobbed uncontrollably, and her hips bounced as if they might spring off at any moment.

The ride on the armored wolf was anything but smooth.

The creature, injured and frenzied, was using every ounce of its strength to race back to its den.

‘Ugh… I think I’m going to be sick.’

Lucia, who even got motion sickness on well-trained horses, was struggling.

Even with the power of her holy tattoos, the four hours spent on the wolf’s back felt interminable.

“We’re almost there. Look over there.”

A deep, resonant voice came from behind her. Lucia lifted her head.

Dalen reached over her shoulder, pointing to a hill not far away.

On the hill stood a fence, with gnoll sentries keeping watch.

This was the largest gnoll settlement on the first floor of the labyrinth, home to nearly two thousand gnolls.

Awooo!

Perhaps sensing it was close to home, the armored wolf let out a long howl and picked up speed.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

Despite its blood loss and exhaustion, the wolf summoned its last reserves of strength and charged toward the gate.

“Ugh!”

Lucia grimaced. The holy tattoo on the back of her neck flared again, enhancing her senses.

Through the wind stinging her face, her tattoo-enhanced vision caught the expressions of the gnoll sentries atop the fence.

Huh…?

Their mouths hung open, eyes wide with disbelief.

It was understandable from their perspective. A wounded hunting beast was returning home, but with two unexpected riders on its back.

Thud, thud, thud!

While the sentries were still processing the situation, the crazed wolf crashed into the gate.

Crack! Smash!

With the speed of a galloping horse and a skull as hard as steel armor, the gnoll’s makeshift gate shattered upon impact.

Yelp! Yip!

Amidst the debris and rising dust, the wolf skidded to a halt, howling in pain.

“Damn it, this is hell…”

Lucia staggered off the saddle.

Despite her nausea, she instinctively grabbed her shield and sword.

Her balance quickly returned, thanks to the power of her holy tattoos.

Lucia cautiously surveyed her surroundings through the dust cloud.

She took deep, measured breaths, calming her ragged breathing and racing heart.

“Hoo…”

There was no room for relaxation. They were in the heart of enemy territory.

This was the home of the cunning gnoll hunters.

The gnolls were one of the creatures the Knights of the Rift frequently battled.

Lucia knew well what kind of creatures they were.

Individually, they were among the weakest of monsters, comparable to mediocre mercenaries.

But when gathered, they displayed high-level strategy and cooperation, wielding power far beyond their numbers.

In packs, they seemed almost devoid of fear, charging like a swarm even as half their ranks fell.

‘There are only two ways to make gnolls retreat.’

She recalled her training.

The first was to inflict near-total annihilation on the pack.

If that wasn’t possible, the second option was to take out their leader, the war chief.

Thud.

A large shadow approached Lucia. It was Dalen.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, but now I’m worried. We need to get out of here before they regroup.”

The dust hadn’t settled yet, and the gnoll guards seemed confused.

Their goal had been to use the wolf to travel quickly, and they had achieved that.

Unexpectedly, they had ended up in the heart of the settlement, but now they just needed to escape safely.

So Lucia couldn’t understand Dalen’s next words.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Dalen drew his sword. He tapped Lucia’s shoulder and stepped out of the dust cloud.

“Stay close, Knight.”

“W-wait!”

Her hand reached out in vain. Lucia hurriedly followed him out of the dust.

And she saw it.

Thwack! Slash!

A shield crushed a helmeted gnoll’s skull, and a sword flashed, slicing its large body in half.

“Come on, you bastards!”

Dalen charged through the settlement, slaughtering gnolls as he went.

***

Blood sprayed in all directions. Dalen moved with a detached expression.

He bashed a gnoll with his shield and cleaved another in half with his sword.

Severed limbs and spilled entrails littered the ground.

A crimson carpet unfurled in the heart of the gnoll settlement, marking his path.

The gnolls didn’t just stand by, though.

As Dalen split one gnoll’s waist, archers hidden around the area loosed their arrows.

Whoosh—

Arrows rained from all sides, followed by six gnolls charging in.

Dodging or blocking the arrows left him vulnerable to the gnolls, and focusing on the gnolls meant becoming a pincushion.

Caught in a dilemma, Dalen’s response was simple.

He took a deep breath and spun in place.

Clang!

His shield deflected the arrows, while his sword traced a bright arc.

The six charging gnolls were sliced in half, their entrails spilling out.

The gnolls hesitated for a moment, but only briefly.

Arrows flew again, and gnolls with weapons charged.

Dalen didn’t mind. Deflecting a few arrows was no problem for him.

His hands moved faster, and the gnolls fell even quicker.

“O God of War!”

Glancing back, he saw Lucia keeping up.

Her holy tattoos, glowing across her body, granted more than just superhuman strength and agility.

They promised endless stamina, regeneration, heightened senses, and quick reflexes.

For those who could wield them, the tattoos offered limitless power.

Lucia Castachild, the demon slayer, was one of the most adept at using them among the holy knights.

Even though her potential hadn’t fully blossomed, she wielded the tattoos’ power better than most seasoned knights.

Swish—!

Her sword, imbued with white light, traced over ten arcs in a flash.

The gnolls within her reach were all cut down.

Though each strike wasn’t as powerful as Dalen’s, which could cleave bodies in half, severed limbs and split bellies were just as lethal.

Her strikes grew stronger as the battle continued.

Her innate talent, honed through years of training and meditation, was exploding into growth through real combat.

‘No need to worry.’

Dalen turned back to the fight. He had already slain over three hundred gnolls.

After about a hundred more, it happened.

Grrr!

As he decapitated two gnolls simultaneously, a ferocious growl shook the ground.

Grrr…

The gnolls retreated. Dalen lowered his sword.

The creatures that had been charging with bloodlust now backed away, forming a clearing.

“…What’s happening?”

Lucia, panting heavily, walked over to Dalen.

He glanced at her. Her white armor was stained dark with gnoll blood.

The holy tattoos visible through her armor flickered weakly, almost out of light.

“It seems their leader is angry about his minions dying.”

“The gnoll leader… the war chief?”

“Yes. He wants a fight with me, so you should rest.”

Dalen patted her back and walked forward.

Lucia instinctively reached for him, but her exhausted hand grasped only air.

About ten steps ahead, Dalen took a deep breath and shouted.

“Come out, coward! Didn’t you want a fight?”

His voice echoed through the gnoll settlement. Dalen fixed his gaze on the large tent atop the hill.

As they waited, the entrance to the tent was pulled aside, revealing a massive gnoll.

This one was at least two heads taller than the others, gripping a colossal axe-spear in both hands.

[You have discovered the body of a novice labyrinth explorer.]

[You have discovered the body of a seasoned warrior.]

Dalen glanced at the notification hovering above the gnoll’s head, confirming that this was indeed his target.

‘Gnoll Warchief. Servant of the Dark God, Varguf.’

A few years later.

Just a couple of months before the demon wielding the holy sword began its rampage, the gnoll horde on the first floor of the labyrinth started massacring explorers.

It was unusual for the gnoll tribes, who had remained quietly within their territory, to suddenly unite into a horde and attack humans.

The leader of this horde, which became a target for extermination after devouring countless explorers, was a gnoll warchief empowered by the Dark God.

Grrrr.

The gnoll warchief, destined to become infamous as a servant of the Dark God, bared his sharp teeth as he looked down at Dalen and Lucia.

With eyes glinting with malice, he slowly opened his mouth and spoke.

“Who are you?”

Well, well. This one can talk?

***

Dalen raised an eyebrow.

He knew that in the distant future, the gnoll would gain the power of the Dark God and speak both demonic and human languages, but he hadn’t expected it to speak human language at this point.

When Dalen didn’t respond, Lucia, who had been catching her breath behind him, stepped forward.

“Lucia Castachild, squire of the Holy Knights who guard the continent’s rift!”

The massive gnoll glanced at Lucia with its yellow eyes, but only briefly.

It soon fixed its gaze back on Dalen and asked again.

“I asked who you are. A warrior who invades my territory and slaughters my kin. You’re not one of those paladins eager to devour us, so why have you come here?”

“Do I need a reason to hunt down a man-eating beast?”

Dalen chuckled. The gnoll warchief pondered for a moment before speaking again.

“Does a wolf need a reason to hunt its prey? We only hunted the humans who invaded our territory. Our scouts never strayed from the designated paths, so you had plenty of ways to avoid us.”

“Still, you ate them, didn’t you, you bastard?”

A growl escaped from between the gnoll warchief’s teeth. Lucia could sense it was suppressing its irritation.

Dalen planted his sword into the ground and adjusted his belt as he spoke.

“And since you can speak, it seems you’ve already made a pact with the Dark God. Doesn’t that require offering about ten human hearts?”

“…How do you know that? No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can see you’re flustered, you fool.”

As Dalen adjusted his belt, his hand naturally reached for his axe. Without hesitation, he hurled it at the gnoll.

Whirr—

In the underground world where the sun never rose, the axe blade gleamed under the pale starlight as it flew.

Even Lucia, with her senses enhanced by holy tattoos, could only perceive it as a fleeting shadow.

Clang!

Amazingly, the axe was deflected by the gnoll warchief’s axe-spear and embedded itself in the ground beside the tent.

“…How. How can a human possess such strength?”

The warchief muttered, its yellow eyes widening to the size of eggs.

Dalen clicked his tongue and drew his sword. The creatures of the labyrinth were indeed on a different level than those above ground.

Boom!

He kicked off the ground, closing the distance in an instant.

“Enaksa—!”

As the gnoll warchief invoked the name of the Dark God, a deep green aura began to envelop its eyes.

And then—

Boom!

Both the warchief’s and Dalen’s arms blurred as a series of explosive sounds echoed in front of the tent.

The demon’s holy sword (9) – This is the final free chapter.

The axe-spear descended like a guillotine. Dalen’s sword struck the side of the axe blade.

Clang!

The axe blade, losing its target, sliced through the air, and Dalen aimed the edge of his shield at the warchief’s head.

Grrr!

The gnoll warchief’s eyes widened in surprise, yet it responded skillfully.

Pulling the missed axe blade back towards its body, it thrust the metal-tipped end of the shaft forward.

The shaft end collided with Dalen’s shield, producing a loud crash.

Grrr!

The three-meter-tall giant staggered back two steps.

The gnoll warchief quickly regained its balance and raised its axe-spear again.

Meanwhile, Dalen had only retreated half a step.

As the warchief prepared to strike again, Dalen deftly sidestepped, avoiding the blow.

A mound of dirt erupted with a thud. In that moment, Dalen’s sword moved with precision.

A flash of light, and the warchief’s chest split open, blood gushing forth.

Roar!

The gnoll warchief howled, its eyes now glowing with a vivid green light, relentlessly pressing Dalen.

Dalen responded simply. He deflected or parried the axe-spear with his sword and shield, or simply stepped aside to dodge.

With each precise thrust of his sword, the warchief’s body accumulated more and more wounds.

When nearly twenty wounds were bleeding, the gnoll warchief suddenly retreated. It opened its mouth wide.

“Enaksa—!”

The name of the Dark God burst from its elongated mouth.

With that cry, the green aura that had enveloped the warchief’s eyes began to spread over its body.

Grrr!

The warchief’s eyes now emitted a strange light. Its gray fur was covered with a dark green aura.

It looked as if a thin shell of green smoke had been layered over its hide.

Crack.

The muscles in its arms twisted unnaturally.

‘Damn.’

Sensing something amiss, Dalen quickly stepped back.

In that instant, the warchief’s arms blurred, and the axe-spear slammed into the spot where Dalen had just been.

Boom!

Rocks and dirt flew up like a heavy stone thrown into a pond.

Before the debris even settled, the gnoll warchief, eyes streaming with green light, sliced through the cascade of sand and gravel, thrusting its axe-spear.

Clang!

Dalen swung his sword to deflect the spear’s tip, his expression hardening slightly.

‘The Dark God’s power is stronger than I expected.’

He had suspected something was off when the gnoll spoke human language.

Gnolls were intelligent, but not to the extent of mastering the complex structure of human speech.

And now, clad in the Dark God’s power, it was a force that could easily overwhelm even the likes of Telia, a former imperial knight.

Each thrust of the axe-spear made the air tremble, and its downward strikes sent dirt flying as if the ground were exploding.

This was an exceptional level of combat power, even among lower-tier monsters. It might even be close to mid-tier.

‘In the original timeline, it would have gained power close to a high-tier monster in a few years, but this is far too soon.’

Something had changed.

It was an inexplicable phenomenon.

And the biggest variable in this world was Dalen himself. But this was his first time entering the labyrinth in this cycle.

Therefore, he had no direct influence on the gnoll warchief.

However.

‘If my indirect influence has affected it, this could become an important issue to consider in the future.’

For now, that was a problem to ponder later. The immediate concern was the battle at hand.

Whoosh—

Dalen leaned back, dodging the axe blade that whizzed past his face, and pushed off the ground.

Thud!

The earth erupted beneath his feet.

With his weight shifted backward, he added the recoil of his leap skill, executing a somersault in place.

Thwack!

In the process, Dalen’s foot landed squarely on the gnoll warchief’s jaw.

Grrr!

With a sickening crunch, the warchief staggered back, its jaw dislocated.

It spat out blood and sharp teeth, the left side of its lower jaw caved in.

“Grrr. The god grants power according to the value of the sacrifices.”

In the brief lull in the fight, the gnoll warchief muttered in a roughened voice.

“When I offered ten humans, the god bestowed upon me the gift of intelligence. When I offered twenty more, I was granted the strength to shatter rocks. And when I offered thirty, I received the power to heal broken bones in an instant.”

Crack.

As it spoke, the warchief’s dislocated jaw began to realign.

The shattered gums stopped bleeding, and new, sharp teeth grew rapidly, pushing out the broken ones.

Dalen watched with a raised eyebrow. After a moment’s thought, he dropped his shield.

The warchief grinned with its fully healed jaw.

“Grrr. Are you surrendering?”

“Like hell.”

Dalen spat. His mouth was filled with the taste of blood from the gnolls he had slaughtered.

After the fight, Dalen thought he might need to rinse his mouth with water from his canteen.

Watching him, the gnoll warlord bared his teeth in a sneer. “Arrogant, aren’t you, warrior?”

The gnoll charged, his axe-spear slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.

Dalen didn’t meet the attack head-on. Instead, he angled his sword diagonally, letting the force slide off.

Thud!

The ground split open like a plowed field. The gnoll warlord didn’t relent, swinging his weapon with a wild, uncontainable strength.

Dalen deflected or redirected each blow, never taking them directly. The warlord’s power far exceeded that of a typical gnoll.

Sure, Dalen could have met the attacks head-on, or even overpowered the gnoll to end the fight quickly. But he chose not to.

His stamina was still lacking compared to his strength, and he was just getting used to using his power efficiently without harming himself.

The warlord’s strength, bolstered by demonic power, was just at the edge of what Dalen could handle without risking injury.

‘Even with the regenerative power of dragon blood, it’s not a wise choice,’ he thought.

The labyrinth was a dangerous place. Dalen’s exceptional combat skills made it seem less so, but relying too much on his dragon blood could lead to unconsciousness, leaving him vulnerable.

And conserving his strength didn’t mean he was out of options.

“How long will you keep running?” the warlord taunted.

Crash!

The axe-spear shattered a boulder, its blade barely nicked. But Dalen noticed the warlord’s stance wavering as the fight dragged on.

The gnoll hadn’t fully adapted to the demonic power, and it was starting to control him instead.

Whoosh—

The axe-spear came down again. Dalen deflected the heavy blow with his sword.

Boom!

As the axe head buried into the ground, Dalen seized the moment.

With a grip like a bear’s paw, he caught the warlord’s wrist.

“How dare you—!”

The warlord tried to shake free, but Dalen was quicker.

“Pirient Lagus,” he incanted, projecting his mental image into reality, binding the gnoll with a magical wind.

The image was of a space freezing in a cold chill.

With his increased magical power, more of the magical wind responded to Dalen’s will.

Crack—

The warlord’s forearm turned to ice in an instant.

‘Rapid freeze.’

A spell Dalen acquired from the corpse of the sixth silver-masked apostle, betrayed by the high priest. It was considered useless by mages due to its contact-only limitation, but for Dalen, it was a valuable tool in close combat.

“How… can a human use magic?” the warlord screamed, his face pale from the cold seeping into his veins.

Dalen tightened his grip silently.

The frozen fur cracked, and as the warlord tried to push Dalen away in desperation—

Smash!

The arm shattered, scattering dark red blood on the ground.

The warlord screamed, clutching the stump of his severed arm.

As he staggered back, Dalen approached leisurely, swinging his sword.

Crunch!

The warlord blocked with his remaining arm, but the sword stopped against the thick, demon-enhanced muscles.

“Impressive,” Dalen remarked briefly, but that was all.

He quickly cast another rapid freeze on the remaining arm and tore it off.

“Wait, let’s make a deal,” the warlord pleaded.

“What kind of deal?” Dalen tossed the icy arm aside.

“In my tent, there’s a vault with the belongings of human prey. Spare me, and I’ll open it for you!”

“Hmm.”

Dalen scratched his chin. The belongings of explorers, he mused. Most explorers carried at least one valuable piece of equipment, an investment in their survival.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Good, so you’ll spare me? The gods will—”

“No.”

Crunch!

Dalen’s sword pierced the warlord’s neck. The gnoll let out a winded scream through his half-severed throat.

He had intended to decapitate him in one stroke, but his focus on controlling his strength left the job half-done.

Dalen applied more force. The thick neck, as wide as a woman’s waist, was severed, spraying blood.

Thud.

The headless body knelt. Dalen nudged the fallen gnoll with his foot. No movement. Despite the demonic power, it seemed the warlord wasn’t capable of regenerating like the high priest.

In the silence before the warlord’s tent, Dalen surveyed the gnoll horde surrounding him.

Growls and whimpers filled the air.

Gnolls were brave soldiers in a pack, but their morale plummeted when their leader fell. It was their nature to follow the strongest.

Now, they hesitated, slowly retreating.

Dalen chuckled and let out a loud shout.

Yelp! Yelping, the gnolls turned and fled. Dalen stretched his stiff shoulders and turned to Lucia.

Lucia frowned, looking at him with weary eyes.

She spoke, “Dalen, I hate to say this, but when you shout like that, covered in blood, you look more like a monster than a man.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, drenched in dark red blood, with bits of entrails stuck in your armor.”

Dalen glanced at his reflection in a pool of blood. Indeed, he looked quite fearsome.

He scratched his head and looked at Lucia. She didn’t look much different, though she seemed unaware, likely numb from the exhausting fight.

With a playful grin, Dalen said, “We should clean up before the blood dries. By the way, what’s that on your head?”

“My head?”

Lucia touched her head, feeling something squishy, and shuddered.

She approached Dalen, looking at her reflection in the blood.

Her white skin was stained red, her long hair tangled with intestines, and an eyeball dangled from her shoulder armor.

“Oh, oh no…”

Her face turned pale as she removed the eyeball with trembling hands.

***

A demon opened his eyes, black as night without whites.

He sat cross-legged, slowly raising his head to gaze at the cavern ceiling.

Through a hole in the ceiling, the stars of the labyrinth sky were visible. The demon studied them, muttering in a deep, rough voice.

“Another of Enaxagus’s pawns has fallen.”

He chuckled. Recently, two of Enaxagus’s pawns had disappeared.

One was a human minion hiding in a great city outside the labyrinth, the other the gnoll warlord who had just perished.

“I never liked that worm from the start.”

Still grinning, the demon rose.

Saying such things in front of Enaxagus would surely get him torn to shreds, but even with his great foresight, Enaxagus couldn’t hear mutterings from the distant first floor of the labyrinth.

“One day, I’ll drag that bastard from his throne and make him kneel at my feet.”

Grinding his teeth with a smirk, the demon stepped out of the magic circle in the center of the cavern.

Crunch.

Underfoot, the bodies of human explorers were crushed.

The cavern was littered with corpses, the remains of a hunting party that had dared to challenge him.

For weeks, they had come in groups of ten or more, a constant nuisance. Once, they had even attacked in a group of fifty.

‘That was a close call.’

The demon traced a large scar on his belly with long, black fingers.

Who would have guessed that a paladin, chosen by a holy sword no less, would be mingling with a ragtag group of explorers bumbling around the first floor of the labyrinth?

It had been a fight where he had truly come close to death.

“Luckily, those fools with me turned on him just in time.”

The demon had been gravely wounded by the holy sword, and the paladin, staggering from the demon’s desperate counterattack, had collapsed.

Normally, one would expect the explorers to aid the paladin in finishing off the demon.

But humans are easily swayed by temptation, and explorers, in particular, are notoriously greedy.

Feigning weakness, the demon pretended to be on the brink of death, staggering under the feeble assault of arrows. The explorers, seeing an opportunity, drove their blades into the paladin’s back.

They must have thought they could claim both the demon’s head and the paladin’s holy sword.

“Fools,” the demon chuckled darkly.

Thanks to their betrayal, the demon had hit the jackpot.

He seized the fallen paladin’s holy sword and slaughtered nearly half of the incompetent explorers.

Since being driven to the lower levels of the labyrinth after losing a power struggle in the underworld, this was the luckiest moment in the demon’s life.

A low rumble echoed through the cave. The demon turned toward the entrance connected to the chamber.

His alert spell had been triggered, signaling the arrival of another hunting party.

“Hmm… ten, eleven, twelve. Twelve of them. No need for me to get involved. My loyal fallen knight, rise.”

At his command, the knight who had been lying motionless in the corner stood up.

A thin chain around the knight’s neck glowed with a sinister purple light, and he looked up at the demon with vacant eyes.

“Go and repel the intruders.”

The demon ordered. The knight gave a weak nod, drew a massive two-handed sword, and marched out of the chamber.

The demon watched the knight’s retreating figure with satisfaction. The knight’s armor was riddled with holes, evidence of numerous stabbings.

As the corrupted paladin went to deal with the intruders, the demon returned to the center of the magic circle and sat down cross-legged.

He began to focus his power on the holy sword lying on the ground.

Imagining the strength he would gain from fully corrupting the sword, and the violence and plunder he would unleash with that power, he slowly closed his eyes.

The sacred light of the holy sword was gradually being consumed by the ominous energy filling the chamber.