Don’t Be Holy! - Chapter 72

After that, a brutal battle ensued.

Lights flashed everywhere as monsters were summoned, and the stench of corroding darkness filled the air. A force strong enough to make one’s hands tremble swept past, striking against swords.

It seemed like a well-prepared ambush.

Though they had faced many groups of witches before, rarely had they encountered one as formidable as this.

It was a situation where survival seemed doubtful. Even if they somehow managed to defeat the enemies here, someone who had betrayed them would surely be waiting.

Who, and why?

There was no time to dwell on such meaningless questions as attacks rained down relentlessly. Rubel was overwhelmed—screams, explosions, collapsing sounds, and the thick stench of blood filled the air.

By now, losing comrades wasn’t surprising, but each time it happened, the pain was the same. When it happened, people would often say, “Just wait a moment.” in trembling voices, as if delaying the inevitable, rather than offering empty reassurances like, “It’s okay.”

In that sense, the witches were perhaps even more impressive. Trained to endure pain, they now seemed numb, showing no screams, groans, or emotional turmoil no matter what happened.

Rubel wiped the blood splattered on his face—red as his own hair—and steadied himself.

Though his arm and leg were deeply wounded, he could still move. Rubel observed the movements of the witch causing the most damage in the distance, then kicked off a wall and lunged forward.

The witches created obstacles wherever he went. The ground below rose like molten lava, scorching hot, while arrows rained down from the sides. But in truth, there was no need to fear any of it.

It was all a matter of speed. Rubel was confident he could dodge faster than the witches could chant and activate their spells.

A sharp shard of glass flew past, grazing his cheek. Rubel used his scabbard to push off the ground, stepped on a spear protruding from the side, and leaped forward, driving his blade through the witch’s heart.

The sensation of the heavy blade cutting through thick ribs was exhilarating. Rubel stepped on the witch’s corpse and leaped toward the second witch closest to him, but she specializes in movement spells. His blade struck the ground, which had turned into solid rock.

“Don’t push yourself too hard!”

“We’ll support you from behind!”

A priest shouted and cast a healing blessing on Rubel.

Only after the blessing took effect did Rubel realize how terrible his condition had been.

Every part of his body ached, and as he took a moment to catch his breath and assess the situation, he felt a sense of despair at the seemingly endless battle.

When will this end? When?

Rubel closed his eyes briefly to calm his mind, then raised his sword again.

‘The tools of the gods do not think.’

It was a phrase he had repeated countless times. Thinking was meaningless, all he had to do was move as the gods commanded.

Rubel sharpened his focus like a blade and prepared to move toward the next target. But then, he sensed a presence behind him. He spun around and thrust his sword.

Thud.

He felt the blade slice through something thin, but there was nothing visible. What was it? Had a witch concealed herself and approached him? Rubel pressed the blade deeper.

The unique sensation of the blade piercing flesh reached his hand. But unlike the near-pleasurable feeling of cutting down a witch, this time, something felt wrong. A chill ran down his spine, starting from his fingertips.

His hand, which should have driven the blade all the way through, stopped. A feeling of regret gripped him, refusing to let go.

As the blade sank in, he realized it was a woman, and it reminded him of another woman who wasn’t here.

While Rubel hesitated, the invisible woman, hidden by some mysterious power, threw something black. It seemed to materialize out of thin air.

Still holding his sword, with the chance to kill the woman in an instant, Rubel simply watched the black object, which might pose a threat to the others.

The black sphere, like condensed fog, hit the ground and burst, spreading until everything around was obscured. At the same time, the woman he had stabbed slid forward, ignoring the blade piercing her side, and tightly embraced Rubel.

Without thinking, Rubel spread his arms and held her, supporting the back of her head.

“Wait…….”

Words pleading for a reprieve escaped his lips. Blood soaked his hands, overwhelming his senses. The woman mustered her last strength to mutter something, and Rubel felt the life drain from her body.

“Ah, it’s done.”

With Eir’s sigh of relief, Rubel’s vision flickered. He felt himself being pulled somewhere, and along with Eir, he was left behind once again.

***

Have you ever woken up to a ravenous hunger?

For Eir, every time she fainted, the first thing she felt wasn’t relief at having survived or the vague joy of returning to reality—it was just an overwhelming hunger.

Her stomach felt like it was sticking to her back, her mind was foggy and empty, and all she could think was that if she could just have one bite of warm potato soup loaded with cheese, she’d have no regrets.

It wasn’t even a joke. Even in her dreams, Eir wandered around places like wedding feasts.

In the distance, there were mouthwatering roasted piglets, chickens stuffed with chestnuts and pine nuts, and oysters that would fill her mouth with the scent of the sea—a lavish spread. But every time she tried to eat, her hands turned transparent, and she couldn’t grasp anything.

It was so frustrating that Eir couldn’t help but shout when she woke up.

“I’m starving!”

Of course, her voice wasn’t passionate or commanding enough for someone to immediately feed her. It was hoarse and weak.

By the window, a lace curtain fluttered faintly, and the sound of raindrops falling could be heard. Pale, colorless sunlight faintly illuminated the bedside.

“Wow, I’m really hungry.”

In the serene, beautiful room with its comfortable bed, Eir lay there, tears streaming down her face, and cried out in frustration.

She felt resentful that whoever had saved her hadn’t put food in her mouth while she was asleep. Just then, something cold touched the corner of her lips.

A smooth finger slipped between her lips, pressing down on her lower teeth to open her mouth, and placed a piece of ice inside. As the smooth ice melted and spread moisture across her tongue, she belatedly realized she wasn’t just hungry—her throat was parched as well.

Eir rolled her eyes to look at the person who had given her the ice. He was wearing a deep green shirt, sitting on a chair, leaning toward her.

It felt like she hadn’t seen him in ages, yet somehow, his presence beside her felt natural.

‘Well, I did hug him at the end and chant the teleportation spell Chrome taught me. Of course, he’d be here.’

No. It shouldn’t have felt natural.

She quickly dismissed the thought.

From Rubel’s perspective, at the last moment, Eir had chanted a dark spell and acted like a witch. It would’ve been more surprising if he hadn’t killed her.

But…… not only did he save her, he stayed by her side until she woke up.

Was this man really the holy knight everyone praised so much? She doubted it inwardly.

“You didn’t…… tell me to open my mouth.”

Yet, even as she thought that, Eir ended up saying something absurd. Rubel, who had been quietly watching her, responded to her weak remark.

“If I put my hand in your open mouth, you might bite it off.”

“It’s easier to bite if you suddenly stick something in.”

“You’ve never bitten me even once until now.”

“Until now?”

He naturally drew her attention with a word that implied ‘all this time’. But rather than asking how long that ‘until now’ actually was, Eir first thought—so had he been prying open her lips like this every time she was asleep to slip in ice shards?