Chapter 24
In a forest about an hour away from Luton Town, Muller emerged—he had just been speaking with Philip not long ago.
"Are you saying this alone can push me beyond human limits?"
"Still doubtful?"
"How could I not be?"
"It’s not something to shout about… but I think you’ve heard enough."
The man in the black hood held up a vial of deep crimson liquid and shook it in front of Muller.
He was a subordinate of Tarantula, the organization that spread the seeds of demonic transformation across the continent.
Gulp.
Muller snatched the vial from the man’s hand without hesitation.
"When you find the item, hand the sword over to us as promised."
But Muller’s attention wasn’t on the robed man.
He was fixated solely on the potion. The man turned and disappeared into the forest.
Once he was gone, Muller didn’t hesitate. He tilted his head back and drank the potion in one go.
Moments later, red veins bulged violently in his eyes before calming—and then he, too, left the forest.
***
"Seems things didn’t go too well."
Karl stood leaning on the inn’s balcony, watching Philip approach, his steps dragging.
"If the world went the way I wanted, I wouldn’t be here drinking."
"Want to keep going?"
Karl shook the bottle of liquor in his hand.
"I don’t remember handing that out."
"You pulled it out last night. Must’ve been too drunk to recall."
"I must bring out the good stuff when I’m drunk, huh?"
Philip chuckled and sat down. Karl took the seat across from him and poured into the empty glass.
"So, did you meet that Muller fellow you mentioned yesterday?"
"Did I ramble that much while drunk? Forget it."
"You said too much for it to be dismissed."
At Karl’s pointed stare, Philip sighed.
"I met him."
"Why stay here? To someone like me, this just looks like another hollow legend."
"They’ve kept that ‘hollow’ legend alive for two hundred and fifty years. Over that time, their desires didn’t fade—they accumulated. Telling them to let go now is like speaking nonsense to their ears."
"If I succeed… they might try to kill me."
Philip jerked his head up and met Karl’s gaze—but couldn’t hold it.
"You don’t have to go through with it."
"That’s not what you said last night when you were drunk."
"There’s something I haven’t told you."
Just as Philip looked ready to confess something serious—
"I’m going to that cave tomorrow. I’ve grown curious. And… now I have a reason to go."
"…"
"No need to explain. It’s enough."
Karl was smiling.
***
After cutting through unmarked paths on a mountain with no signs of life, Philip finally stopped.
"Let’s rest a bit. I’m winded."
As Philip slumped onto a patch of open ground, Karl leaned against a tree trunk across from him.
"It’s a peculiar place."
A lack of human presence in such deep mountains was expected—but not even the sound of insects or animals could be heard. That was odd.
"I don’t remember if I told you the legend properly while drunk. Want to hear it now, sober?"
"Go ahead."
Despite Karl’s dry response, Philip’s expression brightened as he began.
"A long time before the unification of the continent, in the mythical age when dragons and fae still existed, there was a wandering knight. He forged a sword infused with the power of the stars to slay an evil dragon ruling as a tyrant. The knight succeeded—but as the dragon died, it left behind a curse. No one knows the details of that curse, only that it would plunge the world into chaos. To prevent this, the knight hid his sword, skills, and treasures in a cave in this mountain."
It was a story like countless others in this world. Karl suspected even the next village over had its own variation of the same legend.
"I’ve heard similar stories plenty of times. Coming here’s starting to feel like a mistake."
Karl’s joke brought a bitter smile to Philip’s face.
"Yeah, I figured. But there’s a difference. You’ll see soon enough. Here, you can actually see and touch the magical arrangements. Most people can’t even enter because of an invisible barrier. And even if they do, each person experiences something different inside. Many never return. And those who do—return empty-handed."
"Oh?"
Magic existed in this world—that much was clear. Karl had witnessed it, though rarely, in his ten-plus years here. Still, it remained a rarity.
"There’s more to the legend. They say that in an age of chaos, many lost things will return."
"Hmm?"
"Monsters, fae, dwarves—creatures of myth. When that time comes, the legendary knight will be needed again."
"You believe that?"
"…We’ve rested enough. Let’s go."
Philip rose and led the way again, eventually arriving at the entrance of a dark cave near the mountain summit.
"This is it. Even Master Duke, the strongest in our village, experienced magic inside—but came back with nothing. As I said, many never returned."
Despite the warnings, Karl stepped forward without hesitation.
[You have discovered a Hidden Location: Cave Embroidered with Legend. First Discovery Bonus granted. Strength, Agility, and Luck increased.]
As Karl entered, a gear-like clicking sound echoed faintly in his ears.
Click. Clack-clack.
The sound of gears grew louder with each of Karl’s steps.
The Trial begins.
In the blink of an eye, the world around him changed.
Sandstorms blew. Grit filled his mouth, dry and harsh.
A desert.
It wasn’t a terrain found on the West Continent—but for Karl, who’d fought in the Holy War on the East Continent, it felt more familiar than open plains.
Crunch, crunch.
He began surveying his surroundings. There were no clear clues. Karl pulled out a compass and chose to walk north.
There was no map. No stars in the sky. All he could do was move in a definite direction.
Fortunately, the sun was beginning to set, and the heat wasn’t overwhelming.
After some time, he spotted a cluster of large tents resembling a desert village.
"An outsider! Is he a child of the demon!?"
A man working on the village outskirts shouted at the sight of Karl, his voice full of hostility. Karl raised his hands to show he meant no harm. The villagers, though wary, eventually led him into the village.
"I’m lost. I’d like some food and water, if you can spare it."
He spoke calmly, and the villagers began whispering to each other—likely debating whether they should offer help.
"Simon, is it desert law to turn away the lost?"
"But, Mama Suna… that man is a child of the demon. Who knows what he might do?"
"Simon, he is human. One becomes a demon by choice—not by birth."
"…Understood, Mama Suna."
An older woman—likely a shaman—stepped forward.
The villagers bowed to her and made their way.
"Come."
Karl followed the woman, Mama Suna, into the village’s largest tent.
"Did you come seeking the Star?"
"Is ‘Star’ a metaphor?"
Mama Suna drew a shape on the floor with her staff—and a glowing sword appeared before Karl.
Desert shamanic magic, perhaps?
Karl reached out to the light-formed sword—and it vanished instantly.
"You call the sword the Star?"
"You people seem to."
"The ones who came searching for it?"
"You’re the tenth, I think."
Karl took a moment to process. It resembled the East Continent’s deserts, but he couldn’t tell if this was reality, illusion, or another world entirely.
As he was pondering the limits of his knowledge, Mama Suna spoke again.
"You’re different from the others."
"How so?"
"They acted as if I were just holding their Star for safekeeping."
"Maybe they were in a hurry."
Karl’s dry joke made Mama Suna frown.
"I have a question. Why do they call me a demon child ?"
"They’ve suffered greatly."
"Can you explain?"
What she told him was a kind of tale Karl knew all too well—a tale steeped in blood and iron.
"Whether here or elsewhere, it always comes down to human greed."
Karl had never partaken in wanton slaughter, pillaging, or dishonorable acts.
Though born on the West Continent and often fighting alongside their forces, he had punished West Continent soldiers with his own sword when their cruelty crossed the line.
That’s why, even though the East Continent feared him as the Ghost of Chevalier, they never called him a demon.
"Why don’t you ask about the Star?"
"Would you answer if I did?"
"You’re an amusing stranger."
Mama Suna chuckled.
"Eat and rest for a few days. The desert today and the desert tomorrow are much the same. Rest for now."
Karl accepted her advice, took the warm stew offered to him, and ate heartily.
Then, retreating into one of the tents, he lay on a bed made of animal hide and quietly closed his eyes.
He reminded himself again: This was a trial taking place within a cave somewhere on the fringes of the West Continent.