The Saint Wants to Rest - Chapter 30.2
If Shadow Stalkers had slain many priests and Holy Knights, the Holy Knights had likewise slaughtered countless Shadow Stalkers. They were natural counters to one another. However, no Shadow Stalker of a higher rank than Vermouth was visible here.
“Are you unharmed?”
Vermouth was smiling toward Ian even in the midst of battle. However, that eye-smile was strangely chilling. It was clear he had witnessed the scene where Ian had been about to kiss Hong Seo-yun.
“It is a medical act.”
Ian tried to explain the circumstances with a sigh, but the situation on the battlefield did not wait for them.
“I shall listen to the story after I have killed them all first.”
Vermouth, Choi Jae-heon, and Hong Seo-yun, who had joined late, began to sweep away the enemies in front of them. When Choi Jae-heon pressed them down with telekinesis, Vermouth and Hong Seo-yun ended their lives. Despite how much they disliked each other, they cooperated in a highly efficient manner.
‘Perhaps it is not the worst-case scenario after all,’ Ian thought.
Meanwhile, the most cunning and largest leader entity was peering inside from the exterior. His gaze landed on Ian, who had deactivated Sanctuary Proclamation without realizing it.
“The Saint.”
Furthermore, there was a Holy Knight. Though the creature lacked eyes, it instinctively read the traces of disgusting divine power. It was a familiar energy to him.
Ian, the Saint of Lancia, and Vermouth, the Holy Knight. When this entity had first encountered them in the past, he was still weak. But now, it is different. Even facing the two of them, he did not feel the same terror he had felt back then.
Having acquired information that the vanguard had failed to convey, he immediately passed the data to other Shadow Stalkers and sent them up the mountain. Then, he moved to target Ian. He approached him slowly from the periphery, traveling through the shadows.
Killing either of the two would be a great honor. If possible, it was better for the target to be Ian. If the Saint was not by their side, the priests would gradually grow weaker as time passed. That was the nature of a Saint; a monster that pulled out the full strength of his allies.
Perhaps that was why the other humans were all moving while protecting the Saint. To divert their attention, the remaining Shadow Stalkers all changed direction. They then burst out of the building and began racing down toward the foot of the mountain.
The leader knew how to use his head. What was the point of a frontal charge if they were just going to die anyway? Humans felt distress at the death of their own kind. Therefore, attacking other targets was bound to cause panic and confusion.
And that reasoning was not wrong.
“They are heading for the city!”
Hong Seo-yun stepped forward with a terrified voice. Simultaneously, Ian shouted to Choi Jae-heon and Vermouth.
“I am fine, so go after them!”
It seemed he intended to use Sanctuary Proclamation again. Any high-ranking demon would know about the Saint’s Sanctuary Proclamation. This was because friendly races among the demon kind exchanged information. Therefore, the Saint’s choice this time was a mistake.
Sss—
Shadows surged from beneath Ian’s feet.
There was neither sound nor murderous intent. The bizarre face of the eyeless creature appeared right before Ian’s nose.
He noticed the sign too late; it was already far too late. A pitch-black blade rushed forward, aiming for Ian’s heart. Choi Jae-heon was too far away, and Hong Seo-yun’s strength was depleted. There was no time to do anything.
‘I’m going to die!’
It felt as if time had stopped.
The moment Ian squeezed his eyes shut.
Pu-uk!
Along with a blunt rupturing sound, hot liquid splashed onto Ian’s face. There was no pain. His heart had not been pierced. Instead, a firm body was enveloping Ian.
“Ugh.”
When Ian opened his eyes, golden hair was fluttering before him.
Vermouth. He was letting out a pained groan while holding Ian tightly in his arms.
“Vermouth?”
Ian’s gaze slowly lowered. The blade that had been flying toward him was embedded in Vermouth’s body. But the price of shielding him was disastrous.
Thud.
The left arm, which had been hanging precariously by a strip of skin, fell to the ground. That arm undoubtedly belonged to Vermouth. The arm rolling on the floor was twitching minutely.
“Ah.”
Ian’s mouth slowly drifted open. Not even a voice could come out. Vermouth’s face turned as white as a sheet of paper. Cold sweat poured down like rain, but he forced the corners of his mouth up while tightening the strength in his right arm, which was still holding Ian.
“I am glad you are not hurt.”
Even in such a moment, his voice was no different from usual. However, due to excessive blood loss and shock, the color of his lips had faded away.
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