Translator: CinderTL
"Damn undead!"
Jashu cursed inwardly as he watched Van Buren converse with Roland, his defenses remaining impenetrable.
He gripped his dagger tightly, every detail of their fierce battle still vividly etched in his mind.
After parting ways with Graham, the assassin had ventured alone into the decaying Demon Capital, searching for the Lich's trail.
Yet no matter what methods he employed—his vaunted secret arts or his tracking combat techniques—he couldn't detect the slightest trace of his target.
The entire city felt like a massive, empty shell, devoid of life save for the cold magitech constructs.
Just as he was about to retreat and regroup with Graham, Van Buren's figure unexpectedly appeared in his line of sight.
After silently tailing him here, he finally discovered the mysterious magic array within the building.
But the moment he deciphered the array, Van Buren sensed his presence.
The battle erupted without hesitation.
Initially, Jashu's ghost-like speed gave him a decisive advantage.
Van Buren possessed extensive combat experience, but his decaying body severely limited his performance.
Forced into a defensive stance, he struggled to parry Jashu's relentless, storm-like attacks, flailing like a battered doll under merciless assault.
In just a few exchanges, Van Buren sustained fatal wounds to his neck, heart, and abdomen.
Against an ordinary living creature, such injuries would have sent them to hell a thousand times over.
But alas...
His enemy was an undead being with near-infinite regenerative capabilities.
Recalling the creature's terrifying ability to instantly reassemble itself even when severed into multiple pieces, Jashu pressed his lips into a tight line.
As an assassin, he and knights were both transcendent professionals, but their specializations diverged sharply.
Stealth, speed, and lethal precision strikes were his domain, while knights far surpassed assassins in raw, destructive power.
This meant he lacked the overwhelming force needed to completely annihilate Van Buren, whose regeneration outstripped his destructive capacity.
What made the situation even more challenging was that, unlike the liches Jashu had faced before, Van Buren's close-quarters combat skills were unparalleled. Even Graham, a formidable warrior himself, would likely pale in comparison.
The battle had devolved into a suffocating stalemate.
Unlike Van Buren, an undead being, Jashu was still flesh and blood. Maintaining this relentless, high-intensity combat pace was rapidly draining his physical and mental reserves, leaving him increasingly vulnerable.
Realizing he couldn't defeat his enemy outright, Jashu made a split-second decision to disengage and retreat, intending to regroup with Graham and devise a new strategy.
But the moment he shifted his weight, attempting to break free from the fray, the seemingly sluggish undead before him displayed an uncanny awareness, instantly seizing upon that imperceptible opening.
The result...
Jashu glanced down at his arm, now twisted at an unnatural angle. A bone-chilling killing intent mingled with a flicker of lingering fear in his eyes. Had he not reacted swiftly enough, that arm would likely have been severed.
Badly wounded, he briefly considered fighting to the death, but to his surprise, his opponent abruptly ceased the pursuit.
The fierce battle abruptly cooled, transforming into a frigid standoff.
Van Buren's objective seemed solely to prevent Roland from leaving the room, not to continue the attack.
Thus, the two remained locked in a tense stalemate until Roland's arrival.
"Kid..." Jashu coughed hoarsely, his voice raspy.
He had overheard every word of Van Buren and Roland's conversation.
With only moments remaining until the twilight hour Van Buren had mentioned, Jashu refrained from calling for Roland to join the attack.
Moreover, truth be told...
Despite repeatedly hearing Graham's praises of the young man before him, the proud assassin doubted Roland's involvement would make the fight against Van Buren any easier.
On the contrary, he might even prove to be a liability.
So he simply asked, "What's the situation outside?"
After a moment's pause, Roland didn't immediately answer. Instead, he turned an inquiring gaze toward Van Buren.
His thoughts aligned with Jashu's.
Since the agreed-upon time was imminent, waiting a little longer wouldn't hurt.
After all...
Jashu's battered state served as the best testament to Van Buren's power.
If conflict could be avoided, Roland would naturally welcome it.
"Please, Mr. Roland," Van Buren said, gesturing slightly without turning from the small statue before which he knelt in devout reverence.
Sensing Roland's gaze, Van Buren merely raised a hand in acknowledgment before resuming his posture of prayer.
Seeing this, Roland stepped forward and recounted in detail everything that had transpired outside.
"It seems... the crisis has been averted..." Jashu murmured, exhaling deeply after hearing Roland's account.
His taut nerves suddenly relaxed, and the overwhelming dizziness from blood loss surged through his mind like a tidal wave.
As the two men spoke, the sunlight filtering through the roof had deepened to a fiery orange, growing increasingly dim.
Van Buren rose silently from the ground.
"As agreed, Mr. Roland..." the resurrected holy knight said, slowly drawing his rust-stained longsword from its scabbard.
Before Roland or Jashu could react, the blade plunged downward, piercing the very center of the magic array.
Boom!
Cracks spiderwebbed outward from the sword's point of impact, shattering the entire area.
The crimson alchemical markings on the array crumbled into dust under the violent force.
With the final array's destruction, Roland could clearly sense the magic elements that had been concentrated here dissolving, freed from their confinement and returning to their dispersed, free-floating state in the air.
The overwhelming magic emanating from the distant High Tower began to gradually wane.
"Finally... it's over..." Van Buren murmured, his voice a low sigh tinged with both relief and profound loathing.
He sheathed his longsword, turned, and gave Roland a slight bow.
"Mr. Roland, may I... ask you for a favor?"
Roland withdrew his scattered mental power, confirming that the Demon Capital Gilles's revival had ceased. Only then did he relax and reply, "Please speak, Mr. Van Buren."
"I wish to ask you..."
Seeing Roland's lack of refusal, the soulfire flickering in Van Buren's eye sockets trembled slightly.
He laboriously unfastened the breastplate of his armor.
"Use the holy artifact in your hand to pierce my heart... Let me return to eternal rest, to slumber in the embrace of the Moon Goddess..."
"The Moon Goddess?" Roland's eyebrows twitched slightly. "You're a follower of Selune?"
"Indeed." Van Buren nodded gently, a fleeting trace of regret crossing his withered face.
He glanced down at his loathsome husk of a body and shook his head.
"As recompense..."
The holy knight removed a silver ring from his skeletal finger, placed it trembling in his palm, and slowly extended it.
"I don't know how Eli... that blasphemer, forcibly dragged me back from the Soul Wall into this world. But regardless... I am no longer worthy to wear this token bestowed by the Moon Goddess..."
Hearing the unconcealed sorrow and regret in Van Buren's hoarse voice, Roland said nothing, only sighed softly and stepped forward.
He took the tarnished silver ring from Van Buren's palm, lowered his gaze, and solemnly intoned:
"May your soul return to the embrace of the Moon Goddess, her silver light shining eternally to guide your way home."
The moment the words left his lips, the Mithril Longsword was already extended.
Thrust!
A faint golden holy radiance, like pure flame, instantly engulfed Van Buren's body.
In the blink of an eye, the massive form had turned to drifting ashes, leaving only a whisper lingering in the air:
"Silver light... shining eternally..."
Enhanced by psionic energy, Roland observed a wisp of grayish-white spiritual essence slowly rising into the air.
He was about to sigh when he suddenly frowned and jerked his head up.
The soul that had once belonged to Van Buren had abruptly changed direction.
As if forcibly drawn away by some immense power, it vanished completely in an instant.
(End of the Chapter)
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