The Berserker’s Second Playthrough Novel - Chapter 67

Chapter 67
Chapter: 67

Chapter Title: No Demon for the Old (3)

—

A glowing, deep-red needle sank into his metallic, sturdy forearm. The potent life force from the needle surged into his frame, crawling beneath his skin like an insect before settling into a design resembling the wings of a great sword.

“It is finished… Now, by centering your spirit, you can tap into that demonic essence. The power is fleeting, and you must remain vigilant against the madness that follows, but…”

“I understand. My thanks.”

Kadim offered a brief inclination of his head. The shaman exhaled a long, weary breath. Her face looked far more at peace and natural now, as if a weight she had carried for centuries had finally been lifted. A small flame of curiosity still flickered in her sunken, ancient eyes.

“The one you encountered before me… was it Beshaka?”

“It was.”

“Heh heh… She was fortunate. She followed the Blind-Eye Lady with absolute loyalty. Knowing her purpose has finally reached you, she would feel no regret, even after a lifetime of waiting in isolation.”

The shaman’s gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of time, seeing the ghosts of those who had shared her exile within these ruins.

Kadim spoke with a voice full of gravity.

“Do you feel any regret for obeying Cyril’s command?”

The shaman met his question with a soft, ironic grin.

“Me? Heh heh heh… Is that even a question? Not for a moment!”

“…”

“I anticipated a decade of vigil, yet it spanned centuries! And based on the Blind-Eye Lady’s descriptions, I expected someone grand and sagely, but Atala’s Great Warrior turns out to be this peculiar fellow! I can only imagine the shock of the other shamans if they meet you!”

“…”

“If any of them still draw breath, that is, heh heh heh…”

A touch of bitter self-derision colored her final words. A shadow of guilt crossed Kadim’s features, but the shaman noticed and immediately dismissed it.

“Do not take this upon yourself, Great Warrior. This path was our own selection, and we alone own the suffering and the results. It is foolish for one who wanders into the wastes by choice to complain about the heat or the lack of water.”

“…”

“However, as someone who has endured these long ages to welcome you, might I ask for a single favor?”

Kadim motioned for her to continue. Her parched lips moved with the weight of a sacred decree.

“The duty Father Wilderness gave you is one of conflict, not rescue. You—and all Great Warriors—are intended to tear out the roots of the world’s great evils, not simply to save those who hurt.”

“…”

“But… if you find the strength, please look down at the broken weeds once in a while. This world contains titans like you who remain unshaken by the gale, but it is mostly filled with weeds that perish forever under a single heavy footfall.”

“…”

“Only a deity can provide salvation for everyone. But anyone is capable of helping a neighbor. Yet, in the world I knew, almost no one did what was within their power… at least, not back then.”

“…”

“But if you could be a man who cares for the broken weeds—if the Atala’s Great Warrior we shamans waited for became such a man… then this old shell, which will soon return to the wilderness dust, could find true rest.”

Kadim’s eyelids twitched. By chance, the shaman’s request mirrored the personal code he used to keep his own humanity from being swallowed by the beast within.

To survive, he would walk through rivers of gore and consume filth. But if his life wasn’t on the line, he would share his last bit of food with someone hungrier.

Yet the shaman was asking for more: to seek out bread for the starving even when his hands were empty. Between hunting horrific demons, finishing off threats, and battling his own internal madness—it would be a grueling task.

Kadim asked if she required an oath in Atala’s name. She shook her head with the stubbornness of an old beast.

“Do not bind the name of the War God to this. A Great Warrior’s first priority is to fight and destroy darkness. This is merely a private plea—do not let it chain you.”

After drifting through deep thought, Kadim gave a firm nod. It was the only way to show respect to a woman who had sacrificed everything for her duty. He could not promise success every time, but he would try whenever possible.

“Tell me your name.”

“…”

“Even when your body turns to ash, I will remember who you were and what you asked of me.”

A look of profound happiness washed over her wrinkled face. It was the smile of someone who knew their journey was ending well. The shaman searched the depths of her memory to retrieve a name she hadn’t used in hundreds of years.

“I am called Ketura.”

“…”

“It was an honor, Great Warrior. I only hope our next meeting is a long time from now, in a land where the battle and the feast never end.”

Kriiiiiing…

The reality around him began to peel away like rotting parchment. The image of the old shaman folded into the air and disappeared. When his senses returned, the small room was gone. He stood on a barren hill, brushed by a soft wind. It felt as though he had slept through a daydream.

However, the dark tattoo on his arm remained as proof.

Kadim looked from the mark to the now-inert stone slab. He then turned his gaze toward the east and began to move. He had lingered here too long. It was time to march toward the source of that suffocating demonic pressure that was pulling at him like a magnet.

But after traveling a short distance, Kadim’s steps faltered.

“…”

Ketura’s plea seemed to weigh down his feet, and a specific face surfaced in his mind.

His movements became sluggish. His pace slowed. Finally, he came to a full stop and turned around. He began a slow run that quickly turned into a full-speed dash. The wind sliced at his face as the ruined village reappeared in the distance.

* Keh heh heh, keh heeeee!
* Keh heh heh heh hek!

Arriving back at the dwelling he had abandoned, he found hobgoblins slamming their weapons against the battered door. Without losing momentum, Kadim lunged forward and launched his axe.

Splaaaaat, craaaack cruuunch!!

* Kyaek!!
* Kehek!!

The spinning blade shattered skulls and severed necks in a single arc. The hobgoblins collapsed in heaps of broken bone, their vital fluids spraying from ruined necks. The survivors were quickly cut down by Mosquito, joining their kin in death.

Bam!

Kadim slammed his shoulder into the door and stepped inside. In the corner, the old woman was curled up, her hands over her ears. When he touched her, she shook violently, making terrible, gasping sounds.

“Ueeeek, uheeeuk… Keluk, keluk, uheuh, uheuhk…”

After several attempts to calm her, she finally looked up, her face covered in salt and grime. When she recognized the warrior, her eyes regained a moment of clarity.

“…Eh, eeeh, ah, aba?”

“…”

Kadim sighed, rubbing his brow.

“I’m sorry for the delay. Today, we will do whatever you like. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

The woman’s wish was to play in the grass nearby.

Following a brief search, Kadim located a patch of land that wasn’t littered with corpses or filth. Her aging body prevented her from running, of course.

Instead, she sat and braided wildflowers into messy jewelry, played in the dirt to make mud pies, and pretended to run a household. Kadim sat still as she placed a wreath of weeds on his head. He only pushed her away with a scowl when she tried to make him eat one of her mud creations.

To stop her from crying, he used his strength to snap trees and build a makeshift shack. She seemed to treasure the crooked structure more than her actual house, touching the walls and planning how to fix it up. Despite the grey skies, she smiled the entire day.

As night fell, they started a fire in the clearing. Thick, heavy clouds obscured the moon, leaving only the dim light of stars. The orange flames looked incredibly bright against the dark earth.

It was a clear signal to any enemies, but no one came. Every monster in the vicinity had already been cleared by his blade.

Kadim placed a pot over the heat, filling it with water, dry rations, and a bit of salt to make a basic broth.

Bubble, bubble, bubble…

In truth, it was a flavorless mess—Kadim nearly choked on his first taste. But the old woman ate it as if it were a feast. She went back for multiple helpings; he couldn’t understand how such a small person could eat so much.

The night grew colder and darker. He eventually had to pull her away from her new shack and lead her back to her home. Once there, the exhaustion of the day took over, and she fell into a deep sleep instantly.

Kadim spent the next hour dragging heavy furniture from surrounding ruins to build a wall around her doorway. It was more secure than the broken frame. It would also serve as a landmark for any searchers.

Before leaving, he placed a small blade he had found on the ground beside her. He had to prepare for the worst. If true danger arrived, she would need a way to defend herself.

He was done. It was time to go.

But as he stepped over the threshold, a small voice called out.

“…Are you leaving?”

“…”

“Where are you going?”

Kadim turned to look at the disheveled woman who had just woken up. His deep voice resonated in the quiet night.

“…To destroy the demon responsible for your pain.”

“…”

“Keep that knife with you. It will protect you while I am away.”

She didn’t complain or beg him to stay.

She gripped the handle of the dagger and bowed to him with surprising grace.

“I thank you, sir…”

Kadim’s eyes widened slightly.

For one fleeting second, it seemed as if the darkness of the curse had lifted from her.

The deep lines and spots on her skin faded, replaced by the soft cheeks of a child. Her grey hair shimmered with a youthful brown light, and her eyes cleared to their natural color. In the absolute darkness of the room, Kadim saw the face of a young girl—struggling to hold back her tears, forcing a brave smile.

The image vanished as quickly as it appeared. She was an old woman again. But now, she was a woman who understood the weight of her own grief.

Kadim clenched his jaw and walked away. He shut the door tight and climbed over the barricade he had built. A heavy sadness pulled at his heart, but he didn’t look back. He vanished into the black, marshy shadows of the road ahead.

There is perhaps no greater tragedy than a child who has learned how to suffer in silence.

The sun did not rise. Instead, the sky was choked by terrifying, blood-colored clouds.

Rumble rumble rumble…

This was no simple mist from a lesser demon; the scale of this aura was massive. The entire landscape was stained in foul colors, and the air itself felt heavy with the weight of demonic energy. All hope seemed to die in this place; only agony and terror remained.

Soltana.

The hub city between Galentana and Vestana, the final objective of the hunt, a city now serving as a playground for monsters.

And… the confirmed den of the ‘central demon’.

Kadim looked up at the massive stone walls. Then, he looked at the horde of monsters guarding the entrance.

* Keh heh heh heh hek!
* The meat has returned! More food!
* Ki hi hik, you won’t get away this time! Eat him!

His blade was sharp; his axe was ready; his knives were secure; the power of the tattoo was surging; and there was plenty of demon blood to be spilled.

Kadim drew in a breath of the tainted air, his mouth curling into a grimace.

The hunt was about to begin.