OMS Chapter 28

Something burst out of the forest, approaching at an incredible speed.

Upon hearing the commotion at the fortress, Kahim and I rushed outside in a panic. If the Demon King had arrived, it meant the worst had happened. If Viirant or the saint—Zeph—were involved, it meant something urgent had occurred.

We instructed the soldiers to ready their bows, armed with Sacred Arrows, just in case, while Kahim and I fixed our eyes on the sky.

“It’s Viirant. He’s carrying Zeph,” Kahim said, his eyes sharper than mine. I lowered my bow, furrowing my brow.

The fact that Viirant had flown back from the sky and that he was carrying Zeph… neither were good signs.

As Viirant landed before us, I struggled to find words, staring at him for an explanation. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him look like this. His face was pale—ashen, almost—but his eyes were wild with intensity, radiating silent intimidation.

“The Demon King is dead, but the monster stampede has begun,” Viirant said, his voice tense.

“And Zeph?” I asked.

“He’s not dead.”

…But that statement was clearly a half-truth. One glance at Zeph in Viirant’s arms told the full story. A dark arrow was deeply embedded in Zeph’s chest, its color far darker and more malevolent than the one I’d seen before. He was barely alive—just clinging to life. In fact, the fact he was alive at all seemed like a miracle.

“He said not to touch the arrow… and to leave the rest to us,” Viirant added, his face twisting with anguish.

I could feel my own expression harden, mirroring his. The thought of Zeph dying weighed far heavier on me than even the death of the saint.

We had traveled together for so long, and I had grown to admire him for his selflessness. He put others first, always helping the people even at his own risk. He never took a moment’s rest, not even in the carriage, constantly preparing for what was to come.

That’s when I remembered. There was something important Zeph had given me just a few days ago.

✢

With Viirant and Kahim in tow, I hurried to the room we’d been assigned, rummaging through my bag until I found it—the leather pouch Zeph had handed me, saying, “If something happens to me, open this.”

If Zeph had anticipated even the possibility of a monster stampede, then maybe, just maybe, he had something that could save him from this as well.

I opened the pouch with hope, finding an unsealed letter and several crystals inside.

---

Well, how do you even start a letter like this?

If you’re reading this, I guess something’s happened to me. If nothing has, please just pretend you didn’t see this. What I’m about to write is really important, but writing it is a little embarrassing, so bear with me.

First, about the monster stampede. You already know that the Demon King can control monsters, right? So, yeah, he can intentionally cause a stampede. If the worst happens, monsters will come swarming toward the fortress. Use what I’ve prepared, and be extremely cautious.

…Oh, if the Demon King’s still alive, none of this applies. No normal human can deal with him, so if that’s the case, order a full retreat immediately.

Next, the next saint.

There’s already someone to take over. Viirant should remember her—a girl named Lena from the village we stopped at on our way to the capital. I gave her some herbs. She’s only twelve, so she hasn’t been formally assessed yet, but in three years, when she turns fifteen, make sure she gets evaluated. Keep an eye on her father’s illness too.

The transfer of the saint’s knowledge can be done by having her touch one of the rainbow-colored crystals enclosed with this letter. They contain a part of my power and knowledge, crystallized. She’ll probably be bedridden for a while afterward, just like I was, so take care of her.

Now, about the things I made.

The healing potions and magic iron ores will still work, even if I die. The holy sword will too. Just don’t drop it, break it, or shatter it, and you should be fine. On the other hand, anything made purely with my holy power will disappear when I die. The easiest example is the arrows. If they vanish before the battle, well, feel free to laugh at how much time I spent making them for nothing.

Viirant’s blessing will be affected too. I poured enough power into him to last a few years, even if I die. But when I go, the blessing will fade eventually. So be careful. You’ll only have the holy sword to rely on after that, so don’t overdo it.

Did I manage to complete the purification before dying? Or did the Demon King kill me halfway through?

If it’s the latter, I’m truly sorry. My failure has caused you trouble.

I know I’ve said this already, but only a saint or a blessed hero can defeat the Demon King. If I’m gone, don’t try to fight him. Focus on escaping with everything you’ve got.

I’ve made sure to purify the surrounding areas, so the Demon King won’t be able to cause much trouble for a few more years.

If, by some miracle, I’m still alive and Viirant’s blessing remains, I have one last request.

There are three crystals I called Purification Orbs. I filled them with as much holy power as I could. If you smash them near one of the corrupted cores, it should purify the area to some extent. Of course, it won’t be easy with monsters or the Demon King around, but do your best.

…That being said, if the stampede is underway or if the situation is too dangerous, don’t take unnecessary risks. Your lives come first.

Well, that’s everything I needed to say.

I know all this sounds really morbid, but I’m not planning to die that easily. I’m going to kill the Demon King, purify the cores, and tear this letter to pieces afterward.

So, I’m counting on you all.

Zeph

---

“…Is there more?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head as I reread the letter.

“And how do we save Zeph?”

“There’s… nothing written about that.”

Viirant’s voice was low, crawling on the ground, as he asked. My response was equally hesitant. Zeph’s letter was striking in its selflessness—so much so that it was almost absurd. He wrote “if I die” but didn’t even leave a proper will. Even in the hypothetical where he barely survived, he didn’t mention a single method for saving himself, nor did he ask for help.

He’d prepared crystals filled with his knowledge and power to ensure the next saint would be ready, setting up contingencies to protect the people. But when it came to himself, Zeph disregarded his own survival completely.

“…Zeph is such an idiot,” Kahim muttered, breaking his long silence.

If Zeph were awake right now, he’d probably tease Kahim for dropping his usual strange speech pattern. But Zeph, lying motionless on the bed, hadn’t stirred once. He was still breathing—barely. His heart still beat, but it was so faint, so fragile, that it seemed as if it might stop at any moment.

After a long, heavy silence, Viirant quietly stood up. He took the Purification Orbs from the table and carefully packed them into his bag. Then, he approached Zeph, gently kissed his forehead, and turned to us.

“Dirk, find a healer. Someone who can use light magic to examine his body without touching the arrow. Kahim, take the rainbow crystal and head to Lena’s village. It’s the village of Rittner. She’s a girl with brown hair and eyes. Just ask around, and someone will point her out. Handle the transfer of the saint’s powers in the carriage on the way back.”

“And what about you, Viirant?”

“I’m going to fight. …That’s what Zeph wanted.”

Viirant’s voice was cracked, like he was forcing out each word. He stared at Zeph, as if trying to burn the image of him into his memory. His tone and posture betrayed the depth of his feelings—how much he didn’t want to leave Zeph’s side, but knew he had to.

…It had been obvious, even back at the temple, that Viirant held special feelings for Zeph.

The way he always smiled at everyone else but let his true emotions show when Zeph was around. How he’d pale and stay by Zeph’s side whenever he was unconscious. How he’d look like he was about to cry whenever Zeph got hurt.

And Zeph, when he woke up, would always lower his brows apologetically, give a small, wry smile, and mess up Viirant’s hair.

––I’m sure this time will be the same.

“I’ll go get the healer. We’ll be ready to move as soon as I get back,” I said.

“Got it. I’ll go kidnap the next saint,” Kahim added, his tone still slightly off.

I shrugged at his strange comment and left the room, following Viirant. I glanced back at Zeph, lying peacefully on the bed, his expression as calm as if he were simply sleeping.