The Wandering Priest in Dark Fantasy

[Translator - Peptobismal]

[Proofreader - Max]

Chapter 67: Ancient Dungeon (3)

Click!

One of the locks on the door disengaged.

Four locks remained, the same number as the people in the group.

'Were there locks here originally?'

It was strange that the number of locks matched the number of people in the group, but Hamel decided to assume that it was simply how the mechanism was designed.

Anyway, as Lena had demonstrated, the way to escape this room was simple: open the box, face the illusion, and overcome it.

Despite this, no one readily stepped forward.

After a brief silence, someone took a step forward.

"Damn it."

Ono cursed under his breath with a frown.

"I think I know what it is, and I don't like it."

"...Is that it?"

"Probably."

Ono replied curtly to Hamel's question and walked towards the box.

Hamel then took out a mirror from his bag, seemingly having prepared it beforehand, and held it in his hand.

The next moment...

Clack!

Ono opened the box without hesitation.

As with Lena, thick fog filled the air.

Then, something emerged from within.

Seeing this, Ono's expression confirmed his expectations.

But his voice, as he called out the name, was filled with anguish.

"Catherine."

The woman who had died and turned to wax in Heidern.

Ono's former colleague.

Ono was speechless as he faced her.

Catherine, with a pain-distorted expression, called out to Ono.

"...Ono. Run."

"I..."

Ono gritted his teeth, unable to finish his sentence.

Just then, Catherine's body began to harden into wax.

Then, the figure of Speroculus appeared opposite Catherine.

A repeat of that painful day.

A memory of helplessness, a fragment of despair.

There was no way to save her.

She was already dead.

Grit!

Ono gritted his teeth.

Nevertheless...

Thump!

Ono tightly gripped his talisman, his mace.

And with a rage-filled voice, he roared,

"Hamel!!"

"Yes."

Hamel immediately threw the mirror he was holding.

The mirror with the night vision device he had brought from Heidern.

The mirror landed perfectly in Ono's outstretched hand.

Ono ran straight towards the demon.

"Keeek?!"

Speroculus hurriedly emitted light from its eyes.

But it was meaningless.

Ono had already turned around and held up the mirror.

What Ono saw was the demon reflected in the mirror.

The petrification couldn't harm Ono.

Creak!

How tightly was he gripping it?

The leather strap wrapped around the mace tore from his grip, and blood trickled down.

Ono closed his eyes and turned his body.

With his whole body rotating, the mace, laden with his full weight, fell towards Speroculus's head.

"Die."

Ono swung the mace with a cold voice.

Crack!

The mace struck the demon's head precisely.

Then, it vanished into dust as if it had never existed.

"..."

Ono let the mace in his hand fall to the floor with a clang.

He turned and started walking.

Compared to when he was running towards Speroculus, his steps were infinitely slow and seemed incredibly difficult.

But Ono didn't run away from his past.

He took a step forward, directly facing the helplessness of his past.

And at the end of it was Catherine, whom he couldn't save.

Ono stood before her.

After a brief silence, Ono slowly opened his mouth.

"I don't regret it. Running away was the only thing I could do back then."

"..."

Catherine, half-covered in wax, just stared at Ono without saying a word.

"I'm saying that even if the same situation happened again, I would still run away."

Catherine's mouth seemed to be sealed with wax, unable to open.

However, she blinked her eyes as if respecting Ono's decision.

Catherine began to disappear into dust, starting from her wax-covered legs.

Just then...

"But."

"...?"

Ono met Catherine's eyes directly.

Then, slowly bowing his head, he said,

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"...!"

Catherine's eyes widened.

And...

Her eyes formed a gentle crescent shape, crinkling at the corners.

It was definitely a smile.

Seeing that, Ono flinched and his body trembled.

"...You."

Ono was speechless for a moment.

He gritted his teeth and nodded.

At the same time, Catherine's body completely disappeared into dust.

A quiet silence fell over the chamber, as if the commotion had never happened.

Ono abruptly lifted his head and turned around.

"It was nothing."

Ono returned to his place with an indifferent expression.

His eyes were red, but no one pointed it out.

***

"I'll go next."

Perhaps he felt something while watching Ono.

Daniel suddenly stepped forward.

He, too, seemed to have made up his mind as he walked forward and opened the box in one go.

This time, what appeared was...

A woman sitting with her hands folded demurely, engulfed in flames.

Daniel walked towards her and muttered,

"...Mother."

The smell of burning flesh stung his nose.

Just how much of this was an illusion, and how much was reality?

Daniel's fingertips trembled slightly.

He knew this kind of situation might appear.

That's why, even though he had prepared himself, his body wouldn't move easily.

Just like the memory of that day.

'...Don't come. Daniel, please.'

His mother's voice, which he had never heard before, echoed in his head.

In the distance, he heard the creaking sound of someone climbing the wooden stairs.

Was that stranger approaching?

He had to hurry.

But why...

Why wouldn't his body move?

Just then, Daniel saw someone standing at the edge of his trembling vision.

Hamel Saint Gilmore.

The unique exorcist priest he met in Lengbaster.

Seeing him, Daniel felt the trembling in his body stop.

Right.

He had followed this man all the way here.

The sacrificial mark engraved on his mother's body, the one he had been searching for for so long.

The tragedy of his family was undoubtedly connected to those who had branded this mark.

It hadn't been an easy road to get here.

He had faced several near-death crises.

But the more he experienced, the more he felt it.

'I'm not a helpless child anymore.'

Daniel remembered the day he fought a special-grade demon with Hamel.

The day he immersed himself deep into the river of the underworld.

For some reason, the corners of his mouth lifted, and a smile spread across his face.

Compared to that time, this was...

"Nothing."

Daniel adjusted his helmet and took a step forward.

With the red plume on his helmet fluttering, he walked straight towards his mother.

"There's something I couldn't tell you that day."

The flames engulfing his mother grew larger, as if warning him not to come any closer.

The intense heat pierced his lungs.

His eyes were dry and stinging, and his iron armor was as hot as a heated iron plate.

A stray spark landed on the plume of his helmet.

Sizzle!

With each step he took, the sound of burning flesh echoed in his ears.

Despite this, Daniel continued walking without hesitation.

"...I've regretted it ever since."

And finally, he stood before his mother, who was burning in the flames.

Daniel knelt down and embraced his mother.

Then, calmly, but with a voice full of affection, he spoke.

"Thank you for everything."

"..."

Pat pat

The burning woman patted Daniel's back as he hugged her.

The next moment...

The woman vanished into dust.

Whoosh!

Simultaneously, the flames that had been scorching the surroundings disappeared.

Not a single scar remained on Daniel's body, which had been severely burned.

Daniel simply remained kneeling in the center of the chamber.

He slowly stood up.

He didn't know what that was just now.

Was it just an illusion, a trick of the eye?

Or was it the regret born from his own memories?

Or was it...

'No, Mother must be resting peacefully in the land of the gods by now.'

Daniel shook his head and stood up.

Despite everything, he felt a sense of relief.

***

"I'll be next..."

Despite his words, Rupert hesitated to approach the box.

He forced himself to take a step, but even after standing in front of the box, he hesitated for a long time.

But no one rushed him.

Everyone just waited patiently.

That gave Rupert strength.

He was grateful for his companions who simply watched over him, believing he could do it.

Rupert slowly reached out and placed his hand on the box.

Smoke spread, and old memories resurfaced.

Thump thump!

A man emerged from the fog.

Seeing him, Rupert froze.

He thought it would be different after all this time, but it wasn't.

"Father."

"..."

He looked a little younger than the last time he saw him, but his stern and solemn face was the same.

One of the strongest in the Empire, a swordsman whose name was always mentioned when discussing the best of the best.

The Guardian of the North, the Swordmaster.

That was Ricard Glenvale.

Facing his sharp and disciplined gaze, Rupert couldn't help but shrink back.

Ricard, who had been staring intently at Rupert, slowly opened his mouth.

"...Aren't you going to say anything?"

His coldly uttered words were laced with anger for some reason.

"I'm sorry."

Rupert immediately apologized, but the atmosphere only worsened.

Ricard glared at Rupert coldly and muttered, "It's not me you should be apologizing to."

"Father, I..."

"What in the world... what have you been doing?"

Ricard closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand.

His father was a man who rarely showed any emotion.

That's why Rupert could tell how emotional he was now.

Sadness, anger, and... resentment.

Rupert thought he would be fine once he opened the box.

But he wasn't.

All he could do was repeat the memories of the past.

Rupert repeatedly bowed his head and apologized like a child.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

"You coward. I'd rather..."

Ricard stopped mid-sentence, as if something was caught in his throat.

‘Ah, that's it.’

The words that Rupert couldn't forget even in death.

The words that still haunted his nightmares.

Rupert knew what would come next.

'...We should have died together.'

Rupert squeezed his eyes shut, his face pale.

He wanted to cover his ears, but unable to do even that, he just silently waited for the next words.

Just then...

Thump!

Someone placed a hand on Rupert's shoulder.

Rupert turned his head, his gaze shaky as if he was about to collapse.

Hamel was there.

He nodded towards Rupert.

As if saying, "Leave it to me."

"...Who are you?"

Ricard looked at Hamel with contempt, as if he were looking at an insect.

The pressure was enough to make an ordinary person faint.

Despite this, Hamel didn't even blink, calmly saying,

"You shouldn't say things you'll regret."

"...What?"

Ricard's expression was greatly distorted.

Then, with a momentum that suggested he was about to draw his sword, he retorted,

"Don't you know when to interfere and when not to?"

"I don't know what happened. But..."

Hamel raised his head and looked Ricard straight in the eye.

His unwavering gaze was full of conviction.

For some reason, Ricard hesitated and waited for Hamel to continue.

"The words you were about to utter would become lifelong shackles for Sir Rupert."

"...How do you know that?"

"The fact that you appeared here is proof."

Ricard was speechless at Hamel's words.

But Hamel wasn't finished.

"And furthermore, it will..."

Hamel raised his hand and pointed at Ricard.

"Become a burden that you will carry for the rest of your life."

"..."

Ricard glared at Hamel silently, then clicked his tongue as if he had lost steam.

He glared at Rupert for a moment, then abruptly turned around.

At the same time, Ricard's body turned to dust and disappeared.

Rupert collapsed on the spot, gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes... yes."

Rupert slowly nodded at Hamel's question.

Looking up, he saw Hamel's outstretched hand.

He grabbed it, and his body was pulled up.

It was as if he had been pulled from the past back to reality, and he could breathe again.

'Ah.'

He was indebted to Hamel once again.

Rupert wanted to be like Hamel.

If he could just become like him, then surely...

'Surely next time, I won't tremble in front of my father.'

[Translator - Peptobismal]

[Proofreader - Max]