The Berserker’s Second Playthrough Novel - Chapter 83

Chapter 83
## Followers of the Forgotten God (5)

Dark shapes blurred through the narrow passages of Galentana. To any observer with keen reflexes, it would have been clear a kidnapping was in progress.

In a desolate nook where no prying eyes could see, the captors dropped their burdens. The containers struck the ground with a heavy thud, while the prisoners inside, bound tightly in coils of rope, struggled like larvae fighting to break their shells.

“Mmph, mmph, mmph!”

“Mmph, mmph!”

The victims were the traveling merchant and the leader of the city guard—allies of the Demon Slayer, snatched the moment they stepped out of the alleyway.

Now stationary, the kidnappers’ identities were revealed. They were men swathed in midnight-black attire, their faces obscured by matching masks.

They traded looks and gave a dismissive shrug.

“Quite a letdown. I expected the associates of the Demon Slayer—those harbinger of ruin—to offer some resistance. To think they were taken without a peep.”

“It’s a blessing for them, really. Had they been formidable enough to require force, we would have ended them. Their frailty has bought them a little more time. Regardless, they’ll serve as the perfect lure to bring the Demon Slayer to his grave…”

“That aside, why don’t we inspect this pack? Perhaps the Demon Slayer has stashed other sacred relics or treasures within.”

The masked men murmured in agreement and began tossing through the merchant’s belongings.

The bag held nothing but trash. A metal rod swaddled in tattered cloth, containers filled with rank-smelling blood, heavy blankets, fire-starting stones, and dry biscuits… There wasn’t a single holy item marked by the Forgotten God or any object of worth.

However, the thieves weren’t entirely disappointed. The satchel held a massive hoard of currency—plenty to justify their efforts.

“Ha… This must be the plunder the Demon Slayer stole from decent people. It’s a stroke of luck we intercepted it before he squandered it in the city’s slums. What do you think the total is?”

“Difficult to say exactly, but it’s surely over 500,000 luden…”

“It would be righteous to hand the entire sum over to the bishop as an offering. If we are to gather more artifacts and spread our doctrine, he will require a sturdy treasury.”

The other two men glared at the speaker with expressions that suggested he lacked any common sense. The man hesitated, quickly changing his tune.

“Then again, such a vast fortune is a burden for any soul. Particularly when it consists of the tainted riches of that bringer of disaster, the Demon Slayer. To shield our bishop from the prick of greed, perhaps we should lighten the purse just a bit.”

This satisfied his companions. The trio split the gold evenly—100,000 luden for each man. Instantly, their feelings of religious fervor and brotherly love felt renewed and strengthened.

“Mmph, mmph!! Mmmph!!! Mmmph!!!”

Seeing his gold divided, Duncan the merchant rolled his eyes and thrashed with such desperation that the cords around him began to fray and slip.

One of the kidnappers stepped forward to tighten the bindings. As he did, he noticed an object tucked into the merchant’s belt.

“Wait, what have we here?”

Whoosh—!

“…!”

The moment the blade left its sheath, a crimson dagger flared with the fires of the underworld.

It was undeniably a legendary weapon. Greed flickered in the eyes behind the masks. The other two men crowded around like starving animals.

“Hold on, let me see that, brother. A blade like that requires a professional appraisal.”

“No, pass it to me. I used to oversee the armory—I’m the only one here who truly knows the value of steel.”

“S-Stay back, all of you!”

Whoosh—!

“…Phew, that nearly took our heads off. Keep your distance. I’ll take on the burden of carrying this lethal thing.”

“Mmph!! Mmmph!!!”

Though the bound merchant flopped on the ground like a fish out of water, the captors ignored him. Their focus was entirely on the magnificent relic. A tense standoff began over the flickering flames of the dagger.

“You? You think you’re fit to hold it? Based on what?”

“I’m the one who pulled it from his belt. By rights, it belongs in my care.”

“Nonsense, the right is mine.”

“Enough of this. Hand it over. The bishop will be the one to decide its fate, not you.”

“Watch your tongue! We all know you’d hide it away the moment it touched your palm!”

“How dare you accuse me! I only wanted a closer look before returning it! You think everyone is as dishonest as you?”

“It’s mine regardless! Step away if you don’t want a fight! I’ll report this to the bishop myself!”

“It belongs to me now. I’m just ‘borrowing’ it from the merchant.”

“Didn’t you lose a sacred object once before? Do you think the bishop trusts you with another?”

“That’s in the past! It wasn’t my fault—the information was leaked to a rival group…”

“So, the bishop is the one in charge.”

The temperature in the alley plummeted instantly, as if a sudden winter had descended.

The three masked men stood paralyzed.

A massive, unfamiliar shadow had materialized between them.

“…”

The silence was suffocating. Beads of cold sweat formed under their masks. Finally, one kidnapper broke the trance and screamed.

“Everyone, ru—”

Crack—thud!

Before the warning could leave his lips, a colossal fist shattered his skull. His mask and bone gave way simultaneously as his head hit the stones. Vital fluids and blood seeped from his ruined face, staining the ground.

“Ugh…”

Crack—thud!

The man holding the dagger met the same fate: a crushed skull and instant darkness. The final man, trying to scramble away, was caught by the back of his neck, lifted high into the air, and slammed down—his spine snapping upon contact.

“Gah!”

Kadim ground his boot into the man’s stomach. With a slight press of his weight, he stared down at the black mask from within the shadows.

“At least you’re human this time. Your blood is red.”

“Gurk, uh, uh…”

“I’m giving you a choice. Vomit up your broken organs and die… or let your bowels fail you and die…”

“Gurk, gurk!!”

“…Or tell me every secret you’re hiding and find a quick end. Make your choice.”

“Uk, uhh…”

Drenched in cold sweat and shaking with terror, the man didn’t need long to think.

The kidnapper decided to talk.

It was a meager confession, offering very little in the way of deep secrets. Even so, it provided a rough outline of who they were and what they wanted.

Keeping his promise, Kadim delivered a swift end.

Chop—thud!

“Uk!”

The victim, his head split by an axe, likely didn’t feel the mercy, but it was certainly better than the alternatives.

With the kidnappers dealt with, Kadim turned toward the prisoners. He gripped his shining axe and walked toward Duncan and Yulia.

Slice—

“U, uwaaah!!”

When the blade nicked his skin, Duncan panicked, fearing Kadim had succumbed to a killing frenzy once more.

Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Seeing red blood, Duncan was spared; but if the blood had been black, Yulia’s head would have been the next to fall.

Crack—thud!

“Grr, grrr…”

Bubbling black foam erupted as the counterfeit Yulia dissolved into nothingness. Duncan stood there, trembling and confused.

“N-No, how long…? Since when…?”

Kadim cleaned his weapon, his expression grim. It was a simple deduction: only the guard captain could have led them into the ambush at the inn.

The exact moment of the replacement was the only mystery, but thinking back, it likely happened before they even left the gates, when the captain stepped into an alley to talk to his subordinate. He had surely been taken and replaced then.

He would have preferred fighting demons; at least then magic could distinguish friend from foe. Instead, he was forced to rely on gruesome blood tests. He had planned on a simple collection of a reward, but how had everything become so convoluted?

Once he understood the situation, Duncan began to shake with worry.

“Wh-What do we do now? Should we go save the real guard captain? We won’t be able to collect our pay for the subjugation without him…”

“…”

Kadim wasn’t one to abandon useful allies. He had, after all, searched every corner of the city to find Duncan.

However, being burdened with hostages made him vulnerable. Furthermore, he needed someone who actually understood the heart of this conspiracy.

“No. We’re going to Galentana University.”

“…What?”

“We need to find the real scholar. The owner of the coin and the creator of the fake prototype—she is the one with the answers.”

She would know about these followers of the Forgotten God infested in the city, the artificial humans, and why his life and his coin were being targeted.

Duncan bit his lip and gave a firm nod. They collected their gear and set out.

The level of security at Galentana University reflected its status as the city’s intellectual heart.

Vibrant red spires rose like the horns of giants, palace-like buildings stood in orderly rows, and multi-leveled plazas were surrounded by lush grass and a small, shimmering lake. Even a cynical traveler would have been impressed by its scale.

Yet, the campus was nearly empty. The terror of the demon attack still lingered. The number of scholars, students, and staff had dwindled, leaving behind an eerie quiet.

It was a stroke of luck for Kadim and Duncan: the distracted guards let them enter without question. But it was also a curse: there was almost no one around to ask about Ilenia.

The few people they did see were of no help.

“Hey, I have a question.”

“…Uh, s-s-sorry!”

“Excuse me? Could you tell me—”

“…I’m in a hurry!”

“…”

It was to be expected. In this center of learning, a massive barbarian and a disheveled peddler looked entirely out of place. The passersby avoided them as if they were carrying a plague.

However, Kadim soon found a solution. Changing his approach, he grabbed a passing student by the neck and hoisted him up.

“Il-Ilenia the scholar? Sh-She’s right there! Third floor of Bay Laurel Hall! I just saw her go inside—she should still be there!”

“Good. Now go study.”

To the terrified student, the words sounded like a threat of violence if he didn’t comply. He nodded frantically until he thought his neck might break, then sprinted away like a frightened rabbit the moment he was released. Duncan watched him go with a look of pity, reminded of his own younger self.

The two men entered the hall. On the first floor, they overheard a strange piece of gossip from some students.

“Ilenia? She’s been here since this morning, locked in her office on the third floor… Wait, she just went back in? When did she leave?”

“Huh? Just now? I saw her walk in fifteen minutes ago.”

“I saw her enter her office half an hour ago…”

“…”

“Um, can I ask why you’re looking for Ilenia—”

Kadim didn’t wait for the question. He charged up the stairs with Duncan scrambling behind him. Kadim stopped him with a sharp gesture.

“Stay down here and keep out of sight, Duncan. The fakes might try something again.”

“…Yes, sir.”

At the end of the third-floor corridor, there was a door with a sign: ‘Archaeology Scholar, Ilenia Silberto.’ Standing before it, Kadim sharpened his senses.

The hallway was empty. He could feel a presence inside, though he couldn’t tell if it was the real woman or a double. He didn’t bother with a polite knock.

Gripping his axe, he slammed his shoulder into the door.

Bang!

“…I’ve been expecting you, mercenary.”

A woman spoke with perfect composure, entirely unfazed by the intrusion.

Ilenia was sitting cross-legged atop her desk. Pools of black ink-like substance bubbled at her feet, and the floor was littered with torn pages and broken artifacts—the same kind of mess that accompanied the creation of a fake human.

Or perhaps it was all an act. Kadim leveled his axe at her and barked a question.

“Back in that ruin—what kind of enemies did we face?”

Ilenia let out a small, knowing smirk.

“The Atalayan warriors made of clay. I took down four; you handled the rest. It was a circular room, thirty meters across, with torches lining the ceiling. Before that, we walked through a hall decorated with carvings of beasts, men, and demons, covered in dense ancient text. I followed the instructions—I destroyed the drum that played itself. The clay warriors lost their power and crumbled.”

“…”

“And as you can clearly see, my blood is red. Is that enough evidence that I’m the real one, mercenary?”

She dug a fingernail into her arm, showing him the drops of bright red blood. Kadim slowly lowered his weapon.

He had finally found the real one. Now, it was time to find out what kind of insanity was gripping the city.