Episode 23: The Demon-Possessed Sword (Part 3)
Karon didn't suppress the turbulent energy—instead, he fully opened his senses to it. The dark energy spread outward before attempting to invade his mind.
'Watch this.'
Closing his eyes, Karon methodically shut down each sensory channel, forcing the energy toward his core. Transcending human limits, he could control even the subtlest sensations.
For just a moment—as the sinister energy brushed through his consciousness—Karon clearly understood: the energy wanted the sword.
Instinctively, he reached downhill. Simultaneously, the energy surged down his arm and concentrated at his fingertips. Then came an eerie silence.
Karon slowly opened his eyes.
To his surprise, he now held the sword.
'Did it... fly to me?'
This rare moment of astonishment made him wonder—had anything ever truly surprised him before?
A blood-red miasma seeped from the scabbard. Frustrated by its failed possession, the energy had apparently escaped through the sword.
'Amusing.'
Karon examined the blade with fascination, feeling like he held a living creature. When he switched hands, the crimson energy lightning-quick re-entered his body.
'Simpler than I expected.'
He practiced channeling the energy in and out until it felt natural.
Then came two figures scrambling uphill—Shong and Soonbe—whom Karon had sensed leaving their cottage earlier.
"What in the...?"
Shong crested the hill scowling, then gaped at the sword in Karon's hand.
The blade had suddenly shot through their wall while they were inside complaining about Karon. Now here it was—in his grasp.
"Gahk! The sword! Uuugh!"
Soonbe arrived late, took one look at the blood-misted blade, shrieked, and fainted dead away.
The pair indifferently observed Soonbe's collapsed form before descending the hill.
"I thought nothing about you could surprise me anymore," Shong said. "But this? Unbelievable even seeing it. How'd you do that?"
Karon kept juggling the sword playfully. When ignored again, Shong blocked his path.
"Don't think you can weasel out of this. I want answers this time."
"Must be the dark energy in me," Karon stated bluntly—echoing what Shong had told Soonbe earlier.
"......"
Flustered into silence, Shong stepped aside. Then smoothly catching up, he forced a smile:
"Haha! Eavesdropping now? Anyway—when we leaving tomorrow?"
"Early."
"No farewells to villagers? Figures. It's not like we'll see them again."
Knowing Karon wouldn't answer, Shong mastered self-conversation. As he reached for Karon's shoulder—
Whoosh!
"What the hell?!"
Crimson energy lashed from the sword. Shong recoiled in terror before storming inside, clicking his tongue and vowing never to associate with Karon again.
The swordsman followed calmly, reabsorbed the energy, and replaced the blade on their table—lest someone else get hurt touching it.
At dawn the next day...
"Ughhh..."
Soonbe awoke squinting in the morning light, his jaw awkwardly realigned as he struggled upright.
Cold ground stretched beneath him.
Dew-soaked clothes clung to his shivering body.
Every muscle screamed in protest.
"Why am I... here?"
He found himself halfway up the hill. Why sleep outdoors when their cottage stood intact?
Half-dazed, Soonbe trudged downhill and entered the cottage.
"Huh?"
Three silver coins lay on the table—300 shillings, a week's worth of hunting wages. Only then did he realize the two had left.
He pocketed the coins and sprinted toward the village to share the joyous news.
At daybreak, Karon and Shong quietly led their horses out, only to find an elderly man waiting calmly at the village outskirts.
'Do all elders lose sleep with age?'
Karon naturally recalled the deeply wrinkled chieftain of Taber Desert. Meanwhile, Shong approached the old man:
"Were you waiting for us, sir?"
"Yes. We drove you away despite your help, and for that I apologize. Our villagers pooled this as thanks. Please accept it."
The man offered a pouch brimming with silver and copper coins—easily over 1,000 shillings.
"Oh, this is too much!"
As Shong feigned reluctance while reaching for the pouch, Karon blocked the exchange with his sword.
Both men jumped back in alarm.
"Gods! Why'd you— Ah! I mean, Young Master Karon!"
Shong barely caught himself from using informal speech in the elder's presence.
From horseback, Karon sheathed his sword and declared:
"The sword is payment enough."
"But..."
"Give that money to the families of the dead."
Ignoring further protests, Karon muttered as he rode off:
"Noblesse oblige, indeed."
The elder watched his retreating figure with reverent awe, while Shong clicked his tongue at the money pouch before mounting up to follow.
"Beware bandits on the mountain pass! The roads grow dangerous near Bayla!"
The elder's shouts fell on indifferent ears.
"Playing the hero now, are we?" Shong mocked, riding alongside Karon.
"Pennies. Just dead weight."
"Of course. Then why leave three silver coins from my purse at the cottage?"
"Should I have left gold? You converted them. Not my doing."
Karon urged his horse ahead.
Shong glared at his back, venting frustration through hand gestures rather than words—safer with those sharp ears.
"Can't even speak now? Hey! Wait up!"
He chased after Karon.
Having left Loviton Village, they chose the mountain route for speed. Though safer roads existed, Shong felt no concern—what fear remained with Karon around?
A full night's rest had left him refreshed.
But neither anticipated the elder's warning materializing so swiftly.
An hour into their climb, Karon suddenly drew his sword, fiddling with it mid-ride.
The blade's length suited him perfectly, comfortable even on horseback.
"Why draw it now?"
Shong squinted uphill, then nodded in realization.
"Trouble ahead?"
He asked Karon, then answered himself with a chuckle:
"The elder wasn't lying."
His monologue needed no reply.
At the hill's crest waited a band of brigands—some mounted, most on foot—flanking them on all sides.
"Bold little shits," growled their leader, a hulking man with a black beard. "Strutting through our territory?"
"Mm."
Shong pondered how one should properly cross a mountain. Bow deeply? Before he could retort, Karon stepped forward.
'Since when does he initiate conversation?'
Shong tilted his head—then gaped at the absurd question:
"Black cloak. Blue hair. Red orb. Speak."
Karon recited calmly.
Shong shook his head vehemently. These were the same clues he'd asked bandits in Kruger Forest weeks prior.
'Why ask these lowlifes? They wouldn't know.'
Yet the bandit leader grinned.
"Kekeke! Know them, do you? Our information's pricey—one gold coin. Got any coppers, brat? No money? Then pay with your bodies!"
The bandits leered, assessing their slave-market potential. These cutthroats preyed on travelers to Bayla, killing worthless ones and selling the rest.
Karon smelled the blood clinging to them.
After a pause, he flicked a gold coin toward the leader.
Ting!
The clear metallic ring drew every eye. Sunlight glinted off the spinning gold before it landed in the bandit's palm.
"Huh?"
The leader stared dumbly.
'What's his game?'
Horrified, Shong watched Karon demand again:
"Speak."
Greed ignited, the leader pocketed the coin and advanced, axe gleaming.
"Secrets require... closeness, boy."
Murderous intent thickened the air.
Karon sensed it all—their darting eyes, racing hearts, acrid sweat.
Clip-clop.
He rode forward calmly, left hand itching near his sword hilt.
In that moment, Shong understood:
'He gave gold on purpose. Wants to test the sword.'
Edging backward—not to flee, but to avoid bloodstains—Shong prepared to watch the carnage unfold.
