Yuaki frowned. "What attacks? I see nothing. There's not even a sound." All Yuaki saw was something whizzing past.
"Ah — of course. The wraith moves like lightning. It can be invisible to the untrained eye," the sheriff explained. "But those of us trained in combat…"
How dare you. Yuaki's teeth clenched. That tone. That arrogance. Just like Baram. You think you're better than me, too? Once this is over, you'd…
But then his gaze caught on something else. The wraith… It wore a Sibyl's robe.
Wait, why is the demon wearing Bolbol's robes? No… it cannot be… can… it?
A sudden scream tore through the air.
"You dare take my daughter! What sin had my child committed?!"
The Living Wraith — Bolbol herself — lunged at Goi with unholy speed. Her clawed hands, sharper than iron talons, tore through the air with bone-chilling precision.
Yet,Goi deflected her strikes with ease, his bronze gladius glowing with golden light. When none of her attacks landed, Bolbol's rage only grew.
"She was just a child! Let her pass peacefully into the afterlife!"
Goi exhaled slowly, then crouched slightly, his movements deliberate.
Their eyes met.
There was no hostility in his gaze. Only sorrow — a quiet compassion that pierced her fury.
Does he… understand my pain?
Then, he spun once in place — a single, fluid movement. "Cleansed!"
His voice thundered like judgment from the heavens. A golden flash enveloped Bolbol's vision — light blinding, fierce, radiant.
Was it divine punishment? No… It was… peace.
The agony in her chest began to fade — not by force, but by release.
As she fell backward, Goi caught her gently in his arms and lowered her to the ground, with reverence and grace.
So this… this is what it feels like — to be held kindly by a man…
Bolbol's heart ached as if it were being torn apart. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Why did a Sibyl become a living wraith? What kind of agony must you endure…" Goi asked softly.
Bolbol looked up at him — at the gentle eyes, the face that now seemed far more beautiful than the one she once loved.
No — he's not more handsome… he's just… kinder.
With trembling breath, she raised a hand and pointed toward Yuaki.
"That beast… that man… killed my precious daughter — his own daughter…"
And then, in a broken whisper, she shared with Goi the story she had never dared tell anyone. When her voice finally fell silent, her eyes drifted closed — not in torment, but in peace. Goi bowed to her deeply, twice, and rose once more.
The warrior who had brought Goi and the sheriff rushed to his side, their eyes widening in shock as they approached. But what they found made them freeze in disbelief.
There was no monstrous corpse, no grotesque remnant of evil. Only the lifeless body of a woman — beautiful even in death, draped in the garments of the High Sibyl, Bolbol.
The sheriff gasped. "She… she was…"
Goi walked slowly across the courtyard, his steel blade drawn.
"You vile creature!" he shouted, voice sharp as thunder. "The Governor of Chooshin — and yet you defy the sacred bond of blood?"
Yuaki flinched. His heart seized in panic — but only for a moment. He quickly glanced around and reassured himself.
Who does this wretch think he is? Then it hit him. Ah… he doesn't know who I am. How pitiful.
With a practiced calm, Yuaki took a dignified step forward, donning his most noble expression.
"You must be a wanderer, ignorant of propriety," he said with a voice dripping with false magnanimity. "I am—"
"'Proper'? Coming from you? You filthy worm!"
Goi's roar cut through the air as he lunged forward, his steel blade slicing toward Yuaki. Reacting instinctively, Yuaki drew his longsword and blocked the strike.
Whew, that was close. Who would have thought I'd ever be grateful to that fool Baram… Wait, what?
Yuaki's grip suddenly felt lighter. He looked down to see his sword shattered, the pieces clattering to the ground. Goi's blade, meanwhile, bore not a single scratch.
"If ever someone cuts your sword with one strike," Baram's teachings echoed from memory, "run! Or at the very least — beg for your life."
Yuaki's lips tightened. Damn that monk and his smug wisdom.
He dropped the shattered hilt to the ground.
"Impressive," he said, forcing a crooked smile. "But do you know who I am? I am the younger brother of Gahn Shingui, the ruler of Samul Gaya. I— ngh!"
His sentence died in his throat.
Goi's boot had struck him squarely in the abdomen — a sharp, twisting kick that sent him sprawling to the ground.
Yuaki gasped, clutching his stomach, choking on air.
Damn it. Baram was right… Maybe I should've begged for mercy.
Goi stood over him now, his steel blade already sheathed. Instead, he drew the bronze gladius.
"Then speak," Goi said coldly, "with that noble tongue of yours. Confess your sins."
Yuaki's voice trembled.
"P… please… spare me…"
"Cleansed!"
With a swift arc, Goi brought down the bronze blade. A radiant gust of golden wind swept over Yuaki's body like a divine tide.
Yuaki's vision blurred. His ears rang. He collapsed onto his back, staring at the golden sky.
His eyes fluttered. And there — standing above him, reaching out a hand — was a familiar figure. It was Prince Baram.
His cousin, his teacher of sword arts.
Looking down at him — not with hatred, but with something far worse.
Pity.