Chapter 297 : Eye of the Typhoon (5)
Chapter 297: Eye of the Typhoon (5)
“Yes, it has been a while.”
Berenistella steadied her breath and answered quietly.
Eyes.
The Count’s eyes were nothing like those of a human.
They were exactly the eyes Berenistella remembered.
The very eyes she had thought she would never see again.
The eyes she had never wanted to see again.
“…So you were more capable than you looked, Jadaka.”
She muttered while glancing at the Count’s body, which was gradually turning dark crimson as the effect of the Iron Needle he had swallowed finally began to manifest.
“To think you managed to create a fanatic willing to offer even his own life, despite not being able to pass down so much as a single word or a fragment of a ritual.”
“If one’s will and spirit stand high, faith naturally gathers. That is simply the natural order.”
The Evil Dragon replied in the Count’s voice.
Though his entire body was bound by Berenistella’s ritual sorcery, he behaved as if he felt not the slightest discomfort.
“Were you not once, like me, an object of faith while still alive? I assumed someone like you would understand that.”
“This lady has no taste for being worshipped like you.”
“Ahh, and yet several hundred years have passed since that day.”
Jadaka murmured as if somewhat regretful.
“And still you cannot shed the mask of a fledgling? Mortals ought to advance toward immortality, yet you wander in confusion with only a single step remaining.”
“I think it’s better than rushing forward blindly and falling flat on your face.”
“But I, Jadaka, am still alive. Even now, like this.”
He chuckled.
“As long as my name, my story, my faith, my believers… as long as even a speck of them remains, I will never die.”
“What a delusional and foolish dream.”
Berenistella murmured.
Slash.
Suddenly, her hand swung.
“Then dream…”
Whoosh.
The Count’s head flew through the air.
“…even with your severed head.”
Thud. Thump.
The head that had been drifting through the air fell to the ground and began to roll.
“You spent time among humans, and now even your way of thinking has become human, Berenistella?”
The Count’s head rolling on the ground muttered as if unable to understand.
His gaze suggested he simply could not believe she would perform such a meaningless action.
“Neither you nor I can die from something like this.”
“I simply didn’t want to hear your voice. Your lungs were severed—how are you still speaking?”
“Because it is only shaped like a human head.”
The head chuckled.
Berenistella merely looked down at him as if to say, Do whatever you like.
“So, what will you do now?”
“Hm?”
“I am asking what you are capable of doing right now.”
From the moment Berenistella recognized Jadaka’s presence, she had been doing everything she possibly could.
No one knew better than she did about his obsession and madness.
After all, he had indeed revived himself—even if only in this incomplete form.
“Your body crumbled, and your heart split apart, spewing every drop of blood before it was burned.”
“I know.”
“The Saintess… that woman swallowed even your venom and aura, sealing them away at the cost of her lifespan. That seal remains so firm that even I cannot break it.”
“I know that as well.”
“Your descendants and subordinates were slaughtered to the last one. It was thorough beyond words. The other Eight Demon Lords were not spared either… but they were especially relentless toward you.”
“Of course, I know that too.”
Berenistella looked down at the severed head.
“What remains for you now?”
“Everything.”
“You cling desperately to a human head as nothing more than an Implanted Thought, barely lingering, and yet you claim you hold everything?”
She scoffed.
“Even a passing insect would have more dignity than you.”
“Why do you act that way, Berenistella?”
Despite the insult, Jadaka laughed.
“Are you afraid?”
“…What?”
“The center of a vortex… yes, the Eye of the Typhoon is small and quiet. But step even slightly outside it, and it becomes fierce enough to devour everything.”
The severed head gazed at Berenistella calmly.
“You called me a helpless insect. Then why are you talking to me right now?”
he asked.
“Wouldn’t it be simpler to just kill me? You came here to kill me, did you not? I am right before your eyes—so why do you speak instead of striking?”
“……”
Berenistella fell silent.
The severed head laughed.
“Why are you tense? Why are you on guard? When you crush an insect beneath your foot, do you become tense and cautious?”
A hollow laugh escaped him.
The head shook from side to side.
“You know it too. That I… am not merely clinging pitifully to life as you claim. That is why you are refraining from rash action—because you want to seize a decisive opportunity.”
“…What are you planning?”
“I already told you.”
The head said,
“I will become the storm.”
“…The storm?”
“Yes, the storm. A vortex, a whirlwind. A biting gale. The nightmare of all who remember me and know my name.”
At that moment, the head suddenly turned toward Lian.
When their eyes met, Lian felt as though his entire body froze.
“You met my gaze and still live. Your spirit is admirable. What is your name?”
“……”
“You will not answer? Very well. I shall still commend the spirit that kept you from coughing blood.”
“…Why ask when you already know?”
Lian answered with difficulty.
Jadaka’s eyes curved in amusement.
“Why do you still stand there after seeing me? Running away, going mad, or biting off your own tongue would have been wiser.”
“……”
“Ah well, no matter. It seems you are not destined to die today. I had intended to either make you a Sacrificial Offering or use your body as a host… but since things have turned out this way, is that not entertainment in itself?”
He laughed.
“You survived seeing me, so I shall reward you with life.”
“What?”
“Is that difficult to understand? I am saying I will spare your life.”
“What the hell does that mean? Speak so it makes sense.”
“Haa…”
Jadaka sighed softly.
Smacking his lips as if his mouth were dry, he spoke again.
“Did I not say earlier? This place is the Eye of the Typhoon, and I will become the storm.”
“…Don’t tell me.”
Berenistella murmured.
Seeing her reaction, he smiled as if she had finally understood.
“It is already too late, Berenistella. Your mistake was coming here.”
“Master, what on earth is he talking about?”
“…Master? You took a human as your disciple?”
Blinking in surprise at Lian’s words, Jadaka soon frowned thoughtfully.
Then, as if granting a favor, he nodded slowly.
“Hm, very well. Then it is worth the trouble to explain.”
Muttering to himself, Jadaka spoke to Lian.
“Now the world will drown in my blood.”
“…What?”
“Except for this place alone—the sacred land where my temple stands. Because this place is literally the center of the typhoon.”
“What does that even….”
It made absolutely no sense.
Lian looked toward Berenistella, demanding an explanation.
“……”
She remained silent with a grave expression.
Seeing his Master like that for the first time, Lian realized the words Jadaka had spoken were not mere nonsense.
“The world drowning in blood….”
“I mean it literally, not metaphorically.”
Jadaka said.
The Evil Dragon who had once turned a great river into cursed Black Water with the blood flowing from his heart whispered again.
“The world will drown in my blood. Just like the rainstorms your Holy Sun Church speaks of when describing the end of the world.”
“That’s impossible…”
“I learned it by reading your father’s mind. You asked why a priest named Rahma wandered through a Dragon’s territory in his youth, and what the Iron Needles were used for, did you not?”
“……”
Lian remained silent.
Because the answer was already there.
“Do you understand now?”
Jadaka laughed as Lian realized it.
“Yes, and are you not curious about when your father became my servant?”
“……”
“From birth. Since your father’s father… I was scattered throughout the world. Your grandfather found me on a battlefield, survived because of me, and became a noble. The teachings and faith continued down the bloodline. There are fifty-six such men. Your father is merely the one who made it this far.”
“From that time.”
Berenistella spoke with difficulty.
“You had been preparing since then. Since the moment the Wolpen Knights killed you.”
“…Wind creates waves and currents.”
Jadaka replied.
“They rode the waves and currents—I could not defeat them. So I remained silent, endured, waited… and prepared. Until the wind came to me. Until the waves and currents turned toward me.”
“Madman.”
Berenistella muttered.
“You have truly gone mad.”
“At this point, such words are nothing but praise and admiration. I accept them gladly, Berenistella.”
“Hah!”
At that moment—
Lian suddenly drew his sword and unleashed a slash at the severed head.
The strike that could cut through space split the head cleanly in two again.
But that was all.
“Berenistella, tell your disciple this.”
Jadaka said.
The severed head had already reformed, wrapped in something like black smoke.
“Tell him that if he remains still like you—having already realized the futility and given up—he might at least conserve his strength.”
“That’s complete nonsense…!”
Lian shouted angrily.
To be honest, everything he had just heard sounded absurd, sudden, and impossible to believe.
“You show up out of nowhere and start spouting this crap…!”
Suddenly the world would end.
Suddenly everything would be over.
Just like that…?
“Who the hell would do something like that—!”
“You will survive. Your Master will as well.”
Jadaka said.
“What is the problem?”
“I told you to shut up!”
Lian shouted and struck Jadaka’s head again with his sword.
Jadaka merely laughed it off.
“To hack apart your own father’s head with a blade. What a dreadful son.”
“……”
Berenistella simply watched in silence.
To both Lian and Jadaka, it seemed she had accepted everything in resignation.
But that was not the case.
‘Impossible….’
She simply could not believe the reality before her.
‘Impossible.’
That everything—
Had been foreseen by the Saintess.
The wind blew.
And suddenly, Lian realized.
If you hesitate, do not do it.
Someone’s voice echoed beside his ear.
“Ah.”
When he raised his head, he saw something like smoke shaped like a human.
A female form visible only to his eyes.
It spoke to him again.
If you hesitate, do not do it.
“…Right.”
Lian finally understood.
Only then did he realize.
“So that’s what it was.”
Muttering those words, he suddenly released the hilt of the sword he had been using to strike Jadaka.
He looked around briefly, then immediately leapt toward what he had been searching for.
A dagger.
The very dagger the Count had used when attempting to stab his own heart.
“Right.”
Blood connects to blood.
If one offers oneself as a Sacrificial Offering, it extends to the bloodline.
And now Jadaka was possessing his father’s body.
“Anyway…”
Muttering, Lian grabbed the dagger.
Perhaps sensing something was wrong, Jadaka’s voice became urgent for the first time.
“What the hell is this brat trying to do?!”
“Don’t interfere, Jadaka!”
Berenistella leapt forward and blocked something that shot toward Lian.
Meanwhile, Lian merely looked at the razor-sharp dagger and smiled bitterly.
“I wasn’t destined to live long anyway.”
With those words—
Lian gripped the dagger and drove it straight into his own heart.