Chapter 37: Survive

Murphiana couldn’t comprehend at all what had happened in the blink of an eye.

The force of the slash hadn’t truly struck the target; instead, a heavy brute strength surged back like a tidal wave flooding in reverse.

The retaliatory power of the “Forceful Negotiation” deflection smashed her “Strong Crown” stance to the brink of collapse, making it impossible to maintain.

The shockwave of magical energy hit Murphiana violently, her vision suddenly blackening as the world spun wildly. Her whole body went limp and collapsed to the ground, nearly losing consciousness.

The female knight lay motionless on the ground; it was hard to say if that was a good thing or not.

Viss only knew that behind him lurked a group of lord-class Abyssal Horrors.

“‘Haibardura!!!’”

The Soul-Devouring Overlord gave no moment’s respite.

Ominous black mist swept over once more, accompanied by a low, eerie rumble. The scent of death spread, closing in relentlessly.

“Damn, it never ends.”

Viss clicked his tongue and sprang off the spot, narrowly evading the mist’s lunging attack with a flash of movement.

The rolling black fog did not focus solely on him.

The mist split—one part continued to chase Viss, while the other surged directly toward the fallen female knight.

Long arms materialized from the fog, reaching out to seize Murphiana.

Her faint groans pierced Viss’s ears.

“Damn, this is seriously troublesome!”

He spat out in frustration.

Whether she had been controlled or attacked for some other reason mattered little.

The fact that the Soul-Devouring Overlord absorbed the resentment of the dead to strengthen itself meant that having a Holy Cavalier’s face etched into that terrifying fog-formed head as nourishment for this disaster was definitely not a wise choice.

The veins bulged on Viss’s calves as he planted his feet and dashed back, scooping up the unconscious female knight in a horizontal cradle.

The sensation was unexpected.

Clad only in tactical underlayers and shorts, he could clearly feel the solid contours of her body—

Not the fragile physique of a pampered noblewoman, but the robust build of a battle-hardened warrior.

Her muscles were slightly firm, but more so possessed a supple resilience.

Thanks to the earlier damage inflicted on the Soul-Devouring Overlord, the black mist’s pursuit had noticeably slowed, and the range of its malevolent influence had significantly diminished.

Unable to wield its oppressive spiritual force to hold enemies at a distance, it was forced to pursue in mist form, doggedly trailing behind.

Of course, Viss’s stamina was not infinite.

Though Murphiana was not heavy—surprisingly light even—it was still a person.

He was already exhausted from earlier skirmishes with the Overlord. Now, carrying someone while sprinting full tilt was a tall order.

Weaving through the forest, he tried shaking the knight gently.

“Hey, wake up! You’re dying here, no time to sleep!”

He even began to wonder if that last strike had given her a concussion.

Gradually recovering from the magical impact, Murphiana’s consciousness slowly surfaced from the abyss.

Freed from the cold, rigid white armor, she could distinctly feel the warmth of the arms holding her.

Warm.

In a daze, memories flooded back along with that warmth, tracing all the way to her distant childhood.

She remembered clearly the time she accidentally fractured her shin during sword training.

Her sister had carried her just like this, running hurriedly to find a doctor.

Voices drifted faintly to her ears, muffled and indistinct, as if she were submerged deep underwater listening to distant shouts on shore. Yet she recognized the same anxious concern as back then.

Was it… worry?

She couldn’t quite tell.

Since her sister’s sacrifice in battle, it had been a very long time since she’d felt cared for like this.

Nor had she ever again found a shoulder to lean on.

Even if only for a short while.

As her thoughts wandered, drowsiness swept over her.

She longed to just close her eyes, abandon all concerns, and sink into deep sleep.

No more cold commands, no more burdensome duties…

Just as Murphiana’s awareness began to fade and slip further from reality,

A familiar voice echoed in her mind.

She saw that figure walking ahead, pausing deliberately to turn back—

It was her sister.

“Are you tired?”

Her sister’s voice was gentle as ever.

Overwhelmed by helplessness and fatigue, Murphiana’s nostrils burned as tears threatened to spill.

“You’ve worked hard, Mo’na… but please endure a little longer, because only then can you survive. I want you to live.”

Her sister’s eyes were as resolute and tender as always.

“For the family’s future, but also for yourself. The things I couldn’t accomplish—I hope you will fulfill them.”

Before Murphiana could even call out to her sister, a force suddenly thrust her back to reality.

She snapped her eyes open sharply.

What met her gaze was a sweat-drenched mercenary’s face.

Viss.

The very target she should have been killing was now clutching her tightly and running madly through the forest.

Feeling movement in his arms, Viss stole a quick glance downward.

“Hey, you alright?! Are you awake?”

Seeing her open her eyes, he immediately spoke, voice strained from heavy breathing.

Murphiana was momentarily speechless.

Her emotions tangled into a knot, her throat dry, unable to utter a single word.

At the edge of her vision, the black mist—signifying death and resentment—churned and surged close behind.

Yes, the Soul-Devouring Overlord, the disaster, was still on their tail.

Which meant—

This mercenary had not abandoned her.

On the contrary, he had escaped with her.

Ahead, the trees grew sparse, moonlight filtering through.

The exit was just within reach.

Yet Viss’s stamina now hit its limit.

His foot suddenly faltered, and he could no longer keep his balance.

Together, he and Murphiana tumbled down, rolling out from the forest’s edge onto the grass beneath the moonlight.

The black mist seized the chance like a predatory beast, surging forward to engulf them completely.

At that moment,

A sudden blaze of silvery light flashed across the clearing ahead.

The glint of armor reflected moonlight.

Warhorses neighed in fright, shattering the silence of the mountain forest.

Viss looked up and followed the sound.

A squad of knights stood in neat formation, stern and imposing.

—Reinforcements!

Viss took a deep breath, rousing himself.

But Murphiana froze once more, her body trembling slightly.

In the distance, the white-haired noble youth leading the knights drew his sword from his waist.

He pointed forward and spoke coldly and clearly, his voice ringing throughout:

“The source of the disaster lies ahead. To prevent the spread of the Soul-Devouring Overlord’s mist, eliminate it on the spot! All archers—loose!”

The knights in the rear drew their longbows in unison.

Accompanying priests stepped forward as well, hands unfolding as pale blue magical circles rapidly formed beneath their feet.

The next instant, bowstrings twanged.

Countless arrows imbued with anti-magic light roared through the air, forming a deadly rain descending directly upon Viss and Murphiana’s position.