Chapter 21

The surroundings suddenly became as bright as midday.

With a suffocating heat, Ian was pushed back.

Rumble-

The endless flames finally subsided.

Ian staggered and covered his face.

“Ah, my eyes, damn it….”

He couldn't shield his eyes with both hands, which were busy resisting the pressure.

A headache from mana depletion and a sense of betrayal followed.

It was as if he had been hit from behind by the unhelpful text in the information window.

He thought he was amplifying the magic using the mana inside the essence.

But it turned out to be a method that absorbed the wearer's mana to amplify it.

‘This didn’t happen in the game… Oh.’

Only then did Ian realize that he had never used the essence alone in the game.

Thanks to the priests who were practically highwaymen, by the time he could afford the purification costs, he was already wearing plenty of relics and magical weapons.

Among them were items that couldn’t function without mana stones or essences, so he never thought about using the essence alone.

‘So, they also acted as controllers for the essence.’

It was a plausible guess.

He had already experienced many times where the game’s settings, even if forced, had their own reasons.

Like the overlapping mana inside the essence.

Ian’s brow furrowed again as he naturally picked up the essence.

The density of the mana inside the essence had significantly decreased.

‘When equipped, it could be used about 50 times.’

What a waste.

He returned the essence to the subspace and lifted his head.

His vision had somewhat recovered.

Blinking to focus, he let out a sigh.

“Huh….”

A twisted look of amusement spread across Ian’s face as he checked the state of the ancient tree.

It was almost a roasted whole.

The mouth and branches that the flames had penetrated had turned into glowing charcoal.

Crackle-

The surrounding branches were burning without even twitching.

Only the roots, resembling anacondas, were writhing in the ground, expressing their pain.

“…I brought the kerosene for nothing.”

I should have just used magic first.

Sighing in frustration, Ian drew his sword from the subspace.

Now it was time to end the suffering of that poor monster.

***

“What the hell happened…?”

Miguel muttered.

The horses were nervously neighing, and a few scorched and burned hosts were scattered around, twitching.

But he just stared blankly at the night sky beyond the forest.

About an hour ago.

Boom-

A pillar of fire had shot up into the night sky, illuminating it.

Since then, only a faint glow remained.

“It’s definitely your work.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“What did you do with the oil…?”

Miguel stiffened as he muttered.

A faint sound of footsteps reached his ears.

“Damn, I’m so tired….”

A weary voice. Miguel finally spoke, holding his breath.

“Ian…? Is that you?”

Ian emerged from the underbrush.

“Yeah.”

Miguel let out a sigh of relief, almost collapsing.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! More importantly, what did you do over there…?”

Shining his torch, Miguel stopped again.

Ian looked as if he had just rolled around in ashes.

“Are… are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

I feel so uncomfortable, damn it.

Ian’s brow furrowed as he recalled the final moments of the twisted ancient tree.

The moment he stabbed its weak point, a mana explosion occurred, accompanied by a scream filled with resentment.

It wasn’t particularly dangerous, but the problem was that the tree was almost a roasted whole.

As the charred parts fell off due to the shock, the area became a mess, like a smoke bomb had gone off.

If you’re going to die, at least die gracefully.

Ian clicked his tongue and stopped.

“Water.”

“…?”

“Give me some water.”

Miguel moved quickly.

Ian took a sip from the canteen Miguel handed him and used the rest to roughly wash his face and gloves.

“Keep watch. If anything appears, burn it or cut it, whatever you think is best.”

“Understood….”

Miguel turned his head belatedly as Ian passed by.

“Is that it? Don’t you have anything else to say?”

“Nothing. Except shut up.”

“…”

Ian approached Philip.

Philip, holding a torch, had been looking at Ian with a worried expression since he appeared.

Ian stopped, looking down at Mab, who was lying on the ground, leaning on a sword and breathing heavily.

“What happened?”

“I’ve never seen you like this before. You don’t have any chronic illness.”

Philip looked down at Mab.

“Surely, you must have been poisoned. It’s not black magic, though.”

“Hmm.”

Ian nodded.

It was an unusually rational hypothesis.

Mab is a messenger of Tir En.

There’s a basic power in divine energy to burn anything impure, with only varying degrees.

Ordinary black magic or curses couldn’t even touch her.

However, Ian’s still sharp senses from the battle were giving him a different feeling.

A strange sense of discomfort and disgust.

Is it contaminated mana?

Just as Ian was about to examine Mab’s entire body again,

“Just leave it to me, my lord.”

Philip knelt on one knee.

Placing the torch on the ground, he drew a dagger from his cloak and added,

“This will make you feel better quickly.”

Ian tilted his head.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Don’t you know? Cut the wound to drain the contaminated blood. Leave enough for you to overcome it on your own.”

“…”

What kind of crazy talk is this…?

Misunderstanding Ian’s expression, Philip continued,

“Of course, losing too much blood at once is dangerous. But blood is always being consumed and replenished, isn’t it? Trust me. I’ve done this procedure many times at the border.”

“Huh.”

Ian finally held his forehead.

He realized once again how barbaric the medical knowledge of this dark age was.

Given that this world has all kinds of magic, mysticism, and divine power, it’s natural that medical knowledge has developed slowly.

But hearing such primitive talk from a history book made him feel a sudden rush of fatigue.

“…Do it. If you don’t want to see me, that is.”

“Do you have another idea?”

Just as Ian was about to answer,

“Ian…?”

Mab’s voice faintly echoed.

“You came… I’ve been waiting….”

She reached for the hilt of the sword she was leaning on.

Ian’s gaze shifted to her left hand, which was gripping the sword.

Her trembling arm and the scratched wrist guard.

Ian’s eyes narrowed, and Philip, flustered, said,

“Ah, you shouldn’t move yet, my lord. You are-”

“No, no. I’m fine now. This is enough… Ugh….”

She collapsed, coughing up blood, like a newborn deer.

“My lord!”

Philip shouted, his face pale.

Without even answering, Mab tried to get up again.

“Rest.”

Ian firmly pressed her shoulder.

“The monster is already dealt with.”

“Is that so… I owe you again….”

Mab’s body went limp.

As he caught her falling body, Ian turned to Philip.

“Take off the wrist guard on her left arm.”

“Y-Yes…? Ah, yes!”

Philip moved hurriedly.

Even in his daze, his hands were familiar.

Soon, Mab’s left arm was exposed.

“My God… Lu Solar.”

“Just as I thought. It’s the wound from that time.”

A mark like a snake coiled around it.

It was swollen with pus, and the surrounding area was black.

The veins bulged ominously.

“When did you get this, my lord? Do you know?”

“It’s from the Dullahan.”

Ian clicked his tongue.

“I thought my armor and divine energy would protect me. I guess not.”

In fact, it was as strange as the forest being tainted by the black wall’s madness. No matter how deep the Dullahan’s grudge, it shouldn’t be strong enough to overcome divine energy.

Regardless, the important thing now was that Mab’s divine energy couldn’t purify this curse.

A simple solution suddenly came to Ian’s mind.

‘Can I just pray to Lu Solar and it will be solved?’

The divine power of the God of Light should be able to purify any curse.

Of course, it wasn’t a choice he was eager to make.

He would probably give a lot of power, given that he had even sent a love call.

But if he refused the call this time, divine punishment would surely follow.

“Tsk.”

Just as Ian clicked his tongue and clasped his hands in front of his chest,

Rustle-

Something moved in his right hand.

A primitive whisper echoed in Ian’s mind.

The unique-grade ring, the Resentment of the Swamp.

His familiar, who had just sent a thought.

Ian’s brow furrowed.

‘Can you consume it?’

There was no such content in the information window.

…Well, that’s not all of it.

Ian eventually shrugged.

He already knew the information window wasn’t omniscient.

Besides, the Resentment of the Swamp was practically the Dullahan’s body.

It wouldn’t be strange if it could consume the Dullahan’s curse.

‘Why didn’t you do it before if you can?’

A simple answer came back.

Because you didn’t order it.

But Ian didn’t want divine power in his body, so he expressed his intention beforehand.

I’m not the only one who dislikes gods.

Smirking at the unexpected commonality, Ian took off his glove.

“Hold her arm tightly, Philip.”

“Understood… but what are you going to do?”

“Treat her.”

“How?”

Instead of answering, Ian extended his right hand over Mab’s arm.

Swoosh-

The ring on his middle finger came to life.

Philip’s eyes widened.

“W-What is that? It’s not just a ring, is it?”

“It’s the resentment left by the Dullahan. It’s now my familiar.”

Philip’s brow slowly furrowed.

“A monster… you mean?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“Of course! Only the fallen and monsters get close! Let alone as a servant!”

What are you talking about? A black cat or a white cat, as long as it catches mice, it’s fine.

A sneer came naturally, but that narrow-minded view was the common belief in this world.

In the standards of the people of this dark age, Ian’s practical thinking was considered sacrilegious.

“Using it on you, my lord, would surely anger the goddess.”

Ian spat out,

“More than letting her die?”

“Y-Yes…? Well, I guess….”

Philip stuttered, at a loss for words.

Ian added,

“Do I look like I’ve fallen to you?”

“Well, you don’t….”

“Then shut up and hold her arm. I’ll show you my anger if you say one more word.”

“…”

Philip, his lips trembling, reluctantly grabbed Mab’s arm.

A black thread snake fell onto Mab’s arm as if it had been waiting.

It crawled over the pus and bit the center of the wound.

Black blood oozed out.

When the blood started to flow in lines, Philip’s eyes widened.

“My lord, there’s a change!”

The black mark was visibly fading from the edges.

Swoosh- A few minutes later, the Resentment of the Swamp let go with a satisfied sigh.

Apart from a shinier appearance, there was no significant change in its form.

But the black mark on Mab’s arm had completely disappeared.

Of course, the snake-like marks and the pus-filled wound were still there.

‘At least the ominous feeling is gone.’

“…So, this monster really could treat you, my lord.”

Of course, you idiot.

Ian sneered and extended his hand again.

Shh-!

The Resentment of the Swamp bared its fangs at that moment.

Philip flinched backward.

“Why, why are you doing this?!”

“Who knows.”

Ian calmly continued to bring his hand closer to the Resentment’s mouth.

Their gazes met.

Ian’s lips curled slightly.

‘Try it again, if you dare.’

The standoff was brief.

The moment Ian’s fingertips touched, the Resentment’s mouth closed.

It crawled up his fingers and returned to the ring form.

Philip said with a wary expression,

“Is this really okay…?”

“Taming doesn’t change their nature.”

Like you, who keep talking even when I tell you to shut up.

“Give me the dagger. Get bandages and alcohol from the bag.”

“Why alcohol…? …Yes, my lord.”

Philip, silenced by Ian’s gaze, handed him the dagger and stood up.

Ian heated the dagger blade over the torch.

In a sense, this was the real part.

“I have them, my lord!”

Philip returned with bandages and a bottle of alcohol.

Ian opened the bottle.

The pungent smell stung his nose.

Fortunately, it was closer to rum than beer.

Ian washed his hands with the alcohol.

‘I don’t know if this will really work like in the movies…’

But it’s better than doing nothing.

“Hold her arm tightly, Philip.”

Ian whispered as he placed the dagger blade at the end of the wound.

“It will hurt a bit.”

He drew the blade almost simultaneously.

Sticky blood and pus oozed out.

Ian immediately put down the dagger and gripped the wound with both hands.

“…!”

Mab’s body convulsed.

But she couldn’t escape from Ian’s grip or from Philip’s, who grimaced as if he was in pain himself.

Soon, Ian lifted the bottle.

Alcohol poured over the blood and pus-covered arm.

Mab’s back arched like a bow.

“Ugh…!”

Her hand, which had been limp, trembled.

Ian silently wiped away the remaining blood and pus and wrapped the wound with a cloth.

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