"Ha…ha…"
Carlisle supported his tottering body with his longsword, completely soaked in blood, some his own, but mostly from the dying beast before him.
The White Whale's mountain-like body lay limply on the ground, letting out a pained wail. Its once terrifying body was now covered in shocking wounds: deep, bone-exposing sword cuts, charred burns, and chilling frostbite… Blood gushed from countless wounds like streams, staining the ground for a hundred meters around a dark red.
Carlisle panted, staring at this second White Whale. When the second giant beast suddenly appeared, it plunged him into temporary confusion; the ancient texts had never recorded the existence of multiple White Whales. If such creatures had appeared simultaneously in different locations, there would surely have been records over the past four hundred years.
The only explanation was… Carlisle wiped the blood from his face, this must be an unknown ability of the White Whale: splitting itself or creating clones. To verify this terrifying hypothesis, he fought with a reckless disregard for his own safety, refusing to let this White Whale out of his sight, even for a moment.
And that eerie mist… Carlisle recalled the initial attack where he was "swallowed." That was definitely not ordinary mist, but some special substance. Although he wasn't sure what would happen if humans came into contact with it, when he personally saw the second Al Goa attack swallowed by the mist again, he decisively dodged the mist erupted by the White Whale.
Now, the truth was about to be revealed.
He staggered as he pulled out the longsword stuck in the ground, the tip dragging with a grating sound. The White Whale's only remaining eye rolled in terror, letting out a pleading whimper. It frantically twisted its broken body, attempting to take flight again, but its severed fins could only flail uselessly against the ground, splashing mud mixed with blood.
Carlisle gripped the hilt with both hands and delivered the final blow without hesitation. The blade sliced through the air with a sharp hum, precisely cutting into the White Whale's neck.
Swoosh!
After the dull thud of the blade entering flesh, the White Whale's wail abruptly ceased. Its mountain-like head slowly slid off, kicking up a mist of blood. The massive body twitched a few times, then finally fell silent.
A cool, clear ray of moonlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating Carlisle's blood-stained knight's uniform. He looked up blankly, realizing that the thick mist shrouding the plains was rapidly dissipating, and the bright moonlight poured down unimpeded.
"Is it… really over?"
Carlisle murmured, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar. He looked down at the White Whale's decapitated corpse, still somewhat incredulous. Was this the misty demon that had devoured Reinhard's grandmother and taken the Former Sword Saint's life? The calamity that had terrified the entire world for four hundred years? Had he vanquished it?
The night wind swept across the blood-soaked field, bringing a long-awaited breath of fresh air. Carlisle staggered back a few steps, finally convinced this was not an illusion. He tremblingly released the sword hilt, letting his saber clatter to the ground.
"I… won…"
The words were so soft they were almost inaudible, yet they were exceptionally clear in the silent plains. Under the moonlight, the knight's figure stood in stark contrast to the giant beast's carcass, like an epic painting.
Carlisle shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to stay conscious. He bent down to pick up his blood-stained longsword; the sticky blood on the hilt made his hand slip slightly. He re-sheathed the sword at his waist. His knight's uniform was completely soaked with sweat and blood, clinging uncomfortably to his body.
The Mansion… Lady Emilia… Subaru and Rem… He instinctively raised his hand to cast flying magic, but only felt the weakness of his nearly depleted mana. Forcing it would only worsen the already over-exerted body and mind.
"Hoo…"
Carlisle took a deep breath, enduring the protest of every muscle in his body as he began to run. With each step, the stinging pain from his wounds made his brow twitch involuntarily. But he only sped up, letting the night wind whip his blood-stained blue hair.
Across the moonlit plains, a blue figure was rushing towards the Mansion at an astonishing speed. Carlisle gritted his teeth, silently repeating in his mind.
"I must make it… I must protect them…"
— — — — — —
The overturned Ground Dragon carriage burned fiercely, the carriage body emitting a teeth-grating cracking sound. The blue-haired girl lay weakly in a pool of blood, her Meteor Hammer rolled three steps away, its metal spikes still adorned with torn cloth and flesh. The girl's exposed arms were covered in shocking burns; the charred marks stood out starkly against her snow-white skin.
Even more chilling were the scattered bodies around, all dressed in the repulsive black robes embroidered with the twisted Witch Cult emblem.
"Rem…!"
Carlisle felt an unprecedented dizziness. He almost stumbled as he rushed to the girl's side, his trembling fingers pressing against her slender neck.
There was a pulse!
This touch almost made him collapse to his knees. Though faint, the steady beat proved she was only unconscious.
Carlisle's trembling palm glowed, the little mana he had just recovered transforming into healing magic, flowing like a trickle into Rem's body.
As the magic took effect, Rem's pale eyelashes fluttered gently. When she slowly opened her azure eyes, what met her gaze was Carlisle's blood-stained but worry-filled face.
"Rem… is with Carlisle… in heaven?" Her lips curved into a relieved smile, "As expected… letting Carlisle face the White Whale alone… was still too much…"
"No!" Carlisle almost shouted, "We're both still alive! The White Whale has been!" He suddenly choked, then urgently asked, "Subaru? Where is Subaru?!"
Rem's pupils suddenly contracted, memories from before she fainted flooding back. She struggled to get up.
"Quick! We must save her immediately."
"Those madmen… those Witch Cultists… they kidnapped Subaru!"
— — — — — —
In a dark, damp cave, Subaru was tightly bound to a corner of the rock wall with coarse ropes. Her wrists were already chafed and bleeding. She stared with wide, terrified eyes at the chilling figure before her.
His green, ear-length hair was like withered grass, and his gaunt body was wrapped in tattered robes. Most terrifying were his eyes, devoid of emotion yet crazed.
"Why… why won't you admit it?" He suddenly leaned closer. "I feel it… this aura… could you be [Pride]?"
Subaru's teeth chattered uncontrollably. "I… I really don't know what you're talking about…"
"Ah, ah! It's alright! It's alright!" He suddenly straightened up, his withered fingers frantically scratching his scalp, "Though faint! This must also be a Trial! Yes! To obtain love! For that supreme favor!"
Suddenly, his movements stopped abruptly. A finger was already bitten in his mouth, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.
"Sloth! Sloth! Sloth!" He frantically pounded his head, "Before asking someone a question, I actually forgot to introduce myself! What an unforgivable Sloth!"
Subaru watched this madman fold his waist in a way impossible for a human.
"I am the Archbishop of Sin of the Witch Cult, responsible for [Sloth]… Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti…"
"Desu!!!"
...
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