## Ch-118.
—
Before dawn, Lorellia had meditated in Sharp Sword Valley, steadying her mind.
On the day she alone survived the annihilation of the Wi clan—
on the day her senior brother declared he would become the Heavenly Demon—
the infernal blaze of hell had begun to burn within Lorellia’s chest.
The Heavenly Demon Cult’s Blazing fire binding chain, suppressed the Heart-Fire.
But Lorellia had not wished to suppress it.
She had wanted to burn herself in those raging flames, to cast all demons in as firewood, and become a living hell.
After being defeated by the Heavenly Demon and taken in by the Order Church, she learned how to govern the flames.
For if she were to burn entirely to ash before incinerating what she wished to burn, there would be nothing but futility.
Meditation and prayer existed to control that blazing inferno.
Having gained faith, Lorellia came to possess not only the flames of hell, but also the clarity of a mind like a polished mirror and still water.
To her, the flames were something she could calm at any time.
—But.
If one throws a stone, even a clear mirror shatters, and even still water ripples.
That is not the mirror’s or the water’s fault.
It is the fault of the one who threw the stone.
To Lorellia, that was precisely the situation now.
She had returned to Pointed Sword Pavilion in high spirits, her mind tranquil like still water, thinking pleasantly of today’s instruction—
—and some hulking brute with a bear-like build and a vicious face, someone she did not even know, was sending Yuri flying with a fist as big and brutish as a pot lid.
“Who the hell are you, you bastard?!”
The thought that the man might be Fist Wolf never even crossed her mind.
What mattered to Lorellia was that some unknown bastard was beating Yuri.
Kwaaang!
Landing at the center of the training ground, Lorellia twisted sharply and clenched her fist.
The world is cruel.
Order sleeps and chaos runs rampant.
Threats lurk everywhere; the weak can only die.
If—if Yuri were to die somewhere in this world—
Lorellia would shed tears of sorrow, yet think that he had died because he was weak, that it was unavoidable.
But not here.
This place was the world, yes—but before that, it was where Lorellia stood.
Violence that occurred outside her sight was one thing.
But violence within her gaze striking Yuri—
that could never be permitted.
It was a challenge to Lorellia herself—the violence that represented the Order Church.
So she did not conceal her fury.
Who was he? She did not know.
Perhaps an enemy of the Order Church?
There were countless bastards in this world who sought to blame the Order Church for the Evil God’s atrocities.
‘Is one of those bastards here for me?!’
A brazen bastard indeed.
Though no answer came to her shout, Lorellia had already reached her conclusion.
“Divine Punishment!”
That bastard bore two sins.
First—he had threatened Yuri within the reach of Lorellia’s fist.
That was, in itself, a challenge to her violence.
Second—he had threatened the Order Church.
Lorellia had already concluded this bear-like man was a pursuer of the Sect, and did not hesitate to add the charge of blasphemy.
“Execution!”
Her fist, blazing blood-red, surged toward Bakered.
It was a manifestation of violence that made Bakered—who had crossed blades with masters far above him and walked the edge of death more than once—vividly recall death itself.
*I… I’ll die.*
Was this what a frog felt before a serpent?
Savage, ominous killing intent manifested as Intent and coiled around his entire body.
If he did not shake this off first, he would not even manage to respond before being beaten to death.
Bakered ground his teeth and drew up his inner power and Intent.
Tuduk—tudududuk!
He forcibly tore himself free from the net of murderous aura binding him.
—Kwaaaang!
He barely succeeded in avoiding the fist.
It had not even grazed him—yet it felt as though half his body had been erased. His legs wobbled.
“You broke free from my Fiendish Slaughtering Net?”
Lorellia’s lips twisted.
Chiiiii—
Intent layered over the crimson aura spreading like fire.
“I had no intention of granting you a peaceful death—so this is quite excellent!”
The writhing red surged downward, spilling across the ground.
Gongsun Myeong, who had been blinking in confusion, turned deathly pale.
Intent was manifesting as martial force beyond human comprehension.
That blood-red earth—
it was the sign of the Intent Myth that had half-killed the War Saint and shattered the Grand Temple of the War Church decades ago.
“Hell of Extermination…?! C-Calm yourself! Do you intend to kill all of our disciples?!”
“Only the one who deserves to die will die!”
“He is not an enemy—!”
“Silence, Gongsun Myeong!”
Fierce killing intent sealed his mouth.
The red light covering the ground slithered upward, and before long the sky itself was dyed crimson.
Estor gasped and hoisted Yuri onto his back.
Lorellia did not look like she would listen to reason—so first, they had to escape with Yuri.
In that regard, Haryeong’s judgment was superior.
Instead of fleeing with Estor, she slapped Yuri hard across the face.
Smack—smack—smack!
“Guh…!”
Three rapid slaps snapped him awake.
Blinking, Yuri looked at Haryeong—but before he could ask anything, he followed the direction she pointed.
“Wh-what are you doing?!”
In the middle of a crimson world detached from reality stood Lorellia, and beyond her Bakered, face taut with tension, desperately drawing up his Intent.
“Step back, Yuri! If you get caught in this, it won’t end with mere pain!”
“Stop—stop! What are you doing?!”
“This bastard tried to kill you, Yuri! So he must be killed by me!”
“It’s a misunderstanding!”
Still on Estor’s back, Yuri struggled down to the ground.
“That’s Fist Wolf—Bakered!”
“…What?”
Lorellia turned sharply to Yuri in shock.
“Who did you just say?”
“Fist Wolf Bakered!”
“You said you were meeting him in Dunjeong!”
“He came here to see me!”
“Then why did he just try to kill you?”
“He did not try to kill me! We simply sparred because we met after a long time!”
“You met after a long time and sparred as if to kill each other? Does that make any sense?!”
Was that really something she could say?
With Gongsun Myeong watching, Yuri dared not retort.
As he stared at her in bewilderment, Lorellia blinked several times, glancing between Yuri and Bakered.
“…Ahem.”
The crimson world vanished as though washed clean by water.
Lorellia cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and placed both hands neatly over her lower abdomen.
“There has been a grave misunderstanding, Fist Wolf nim. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lorellia, a priestess who serves the Goddess of Order.”
Only seconds ago she had sincerely tried to kill him—now she wore the face of a proper priestess?
Gongsun Myeong wiped the cold sweat running down his forehead and thought to himself.
Had Hell of Extermination truly been unleashed, Fist Wolf would have died without question. That Intent Myth could never be resisted at the Seventh Rank.
“……”
Bakered had felt that clearly as well.
Though Hell of Extermination had not fully unfolded, the murderous aura alone had crushed him so thoroughly that the thought of clarifying the misunderstanding had not even occurred to him.
Even now, his mouth would not move properly from the lingering aftershock.
Only after taking several deep breaths did Bakered manage to bow his head.
“I am Fist Wolf Bakered.”
“It was a situation bound to cause misunderstanding! Was it not?”
“…It seems so.”
“This was your fault!”
“…?”
“But I shall forgive you!”
What kind of conversation was this?
Dazed, Bakered nodded.
“Th-thank you.”
It seemed like the proper thing to say.
—
—
Bakered had said he would strike painfully—and he had.
The fist Yuri had extended to counter had bent and broken before it could properly collide, and the bones of his torso were hardly intact either.
“Was that not excessive?”
“The body of a martial artist reveals its true worth as one ascends in Rank. Minor injuries heal quickly without special measures, and with proper medicine they recover in three or four days.”
It was something he had heard before.
When Bakered had been defeated by Full-Moon Play in the past, his injuries had been worse than Yuri’s current state.
“And you are not merely taking good medicine—you are drinking holy water. So do not act like a child.”
Bakered looked at Yuri with clear dissatisfaction.
He had added an extra strike for the offense of concealment—yet the wounds had healed almost instantly, leaving him no time to properly feel the pain.
“Tch… I cannot even strike you once more…”
“If you truly wish to strike again, I will accept it gladly.”
“Forget it. If I strike you here, the Calamity Star may truly kill me.”
“The misunderstanding has been resolved. That will not happen.”
The memory of Lorellia boldly declaring that it had been his fault for creating a misunderstanding surfaced in Bakered’s mind, and his expression turned faintly strained.
“Still… striking you once does ease the heart.”
“In Lutran…”
“That is enough. I understand without further explanation. It is only natural for a possessor to hide his identity—especially when, at that time, you were so weak you could barely protect yourself.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
Yuri replied with a faint, wry smile.
“That fist art you showed at the end—did you create it based on the realization from then?”
“It is called Torrent Shattering Fist. I was rather confident in it, but after witnessing the Calamity Star’s martial prowess, I am reminded how vast the world is. She threw only a single punch at me—and even if I gave my all, I would not be confident in enduring that one punch.”
Though he spoke thus, Bakered’s face was instead filled with anticipation.
He had already secured a promise to spar with Lorellia shortly.
“If my body survives intact, I intend to depart tomorrow.”
“Is there a reason to leave so hastily?”
“I came because you wished to see me, and I have heard what needed to be heard. And…”
Bakered paused before continuing.
He had not spoken in detail about his target of revenge before, because he did not wish to burden Yuri with his karma.
That was why, two years ago, he had abandoned the thought of taking him along.
But now Yuri already knew.
There was no need to draw another line.
“I was cast aside by my family.”
The story he had not told then flowed forth now.
“They forbade me from wielding the sword. They forbade me from using the Laspion name. The world may not have known I was Laspion’s bastard—but the murderers must have known from the beginning.”
In the game, to enter the hidden Laspion estate, one had to kill Bakered—the Sairan guard—and obtain the key. In reality, there was no such requirement.
“To the murderers, I was not even worth killing.”
“….”
“I never held particular affection for that family. I knew the blood tie, but they were never my family. Yet as I gathered the corpses, my chest tightened and my head swam. That was why I first resolved upon revenge.”
A faint smile touched Bakered’s lips.
“After wandering for over twenty years, the revenge I had sworn without grand sense of duty became my entire life. Yet the suffocation did not fade. No matter how I wandered, I could not draw closer.”
“And now…?”
“I am drawing closer.”
His voice carried unmistakable strength.
“It is not by my strength alone. The man I am now receives aid from several people.”
“The Faceless Killer?”
“He is one of those who aid me. Though I do not know his circumstances. I do not even know his purpose—whether this can be called an organization is questionable. I receive help from here and there, yet I do not even know how many are aiding me.”
“If the time comes, I may be able to help as well.”
“It is a grateful offer, but unnecessary. Though I am approaching the murderer, I am not yet close. All I know now is that he is, like Agwi, one of the Evil God’s Saints—and the name by which he is called within the cult.”
“What name?”
“Ghost Mask. He is said to be in the East. If I continue to track the diocese and capture believers, I will reach him eventually.”
It was a name Yuri had never heard.
He keenly regretted letting Agwi escape that day.
“Do not concern yourself with me. Focus on your own attainment for now. The Calamity Star’s instruction is not something just anyone can receive.”
“Yes.”
“And if, later… beyond wishing to help me, you desire to involve yourself with this unknown group…”
Bakered hesitated briefly before continuing.
“Reach the Seventh Rank, and then seek out Full-Moon Play.”
“…Pardon?”
“The first person who aided me in my revenge was Full-Moon Play. I will not inform him that you are a possessor—but if you go to meet him, I doubt he would refuse.”
“Why?”
“When I last received word from the West, he spoke of you often. He said he had noticed you two years ago, and that seeing your rising fame now proved his eyes had not been mistaken. He asked that if I ever met you, I should tell you he wishes to see you.”
Why that bastard?
Yuri blinked, unable to answer.
Bakered merely shrugged.
“Perhaps, as a possessor, he sensed something. Or perhaps he simply took a liking to you as a junior.”
Had Full-Moon Play—Chuk Shin-do—seen through him?
He did not know.
They had known each other before; it would not be impossible for him to deduce something based on Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.
*He knows Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist. Did he infer it from that?*
The issue was whether Yuri trusted him or not.
When he met him in Lutran, he had seemed far more normal than his epithet and reputation suggested—but perhaps that too had been a mask.
One must remain wary of how many unsuspecting possessors that man’s Demon-Guiding Orb had crushed.
“It is rather far to seek him out.”
Fortunately, Chuk Shin-do was currently involved in the Bernok Conflict on the western continent beyond the Central Sea.
“And I am not yet Seventh Rank.”
At his current Sixth Rank strength, if things turned hostile, he had no confidence in escaping.
“If he truly wishes to meet me, tell him to come in person.”
Yuri did not know what lay within Chuk Shin-do’s heart.
The Chuk Shin-do he knew was a lunatic who livestreamed overseas football matches daily on the community boards, and in this world wore a white uniform, kicked a metal ball, and imitated the celebrations of famous footballers like a madman.
He had no desire to embark on the adventure of seeking out such a madman himself.
