“Commander! The lower side has been mostly dealt with. All that’s left now is to clear the Adentel Plains and the nearby village……. Commander?”

Modeleine, who had come running diligently to report the situation, wore a puzzled expression. His gaze turned toward Garuel, who was seated atop his horse, rubbing at his eyes. As Modeleine approached with his horse, Garuel straightened his posture with a short intake of breath.

“Are you feeling unwell? If it’s too much, we can split the team and take care of the Adentel Plains ourselves. We’ve got enough hands for that.”

“Haha, Modeleine. Are you worried about me? The day I get worried by you, huh? Maybe it’s time I step down from the commander’s position.”

“……When will you stop bringing up the old me? I’m not the kind of person who collapses after one swing of Commander’s sword anymore, so please don’t push yourself…….”

“My eyes are just a little dry. Probably because I didn’t sleep well last night. Save your concern, and send the men to the village. There are a lot of residents in need of healing.”

Several villages and nearby areas were devastated by the monster horde’s attack. Even after spending more than half a day clearing out monsters and caring for people, there was still work to do. A significant number of residents in Ribokeif Village, where the incident had originated, were severely injured, so Garuel planned to send all his knights to the village to focus solely on treatment. In the meantime, he, as the commander, would scour the Adentel Plains for any remaining monsters.

Normally, such chores should be left to the subordinates. But today, his condition wasn’t great. If he used healing magic and ended up panting from the strain, it would only cause unnecessary worry.

After sending off the still-concerned Modeleine, Garuel turned his horse toward the plains. As the horse picked up speed over the vast field, the refreshing breeze that blew by lightened his mood.

How long had he been galloping? As he thoroughly scanned the broad plains, a group of monsters entered Garuel’s field of vision.

“Two ogres, and goblins…… fifteen? That’s quite the party.”

The monsters were headed not toward the village, but toward the forest beyond. Most likely, they were based in that forest, but if left alone, they could attack the village again at any time. He needed to eliminate them before they returned to their den. Garuel struck the horse’s side to speed up.

The thunder of hoofbeats on the ground alerted a sharp-eared goblin to Garuel’s approach. Wielding a clearly stolen weapon, the goblin shrieked, and even the slow ogres turned their heavy heads.

“Let’s hope they’re lively. I need a good war story to tell the others.”

He raised his torso, which had been lowered for balance, and drew his sword. Bringing the vertically aligned blade before his face, his perfectly symmetrical features stood out. His bright, violet eyes closed softly. And with the low voice that chanted the prayer, the sword’s blade began to shine with radiant light.

His white steed galloped forward without hesitation, even with the monsters looming ahead, driven entirely by its master’s will. As the distance narrowed, the ogre raised its club, and the goblins leapt wildly, taking cover behind the hulking creature. Then, just as the ogre’s thick arm swung its club—

Garuel’s horse surged forward, slicing through the space between the monsters. With his prayer complete, Garuel gripped his dazzling, radiant sword and ducked low. The heavy club missed his head by a hair’s breadth. As he narrowly avoided the blow, Garuel gave a thankful stroke to the horse’s mane—then dropped from the saddle as if falling.

Even after its master had fallen, the horse didn’t stop. It galloped right through the cluster of monsters and safely out the other side. Landing smoothly on the ground, Garuel ignored all the monsters around him and plunged his sword into the earth. And then—

Kwaaaaah—

A massive pillar of light erupted, engulfing the entire horde. In the blinding beams that shredded flesh from bone, only the spot where Garuel knelt remained untouched by the chaos of screaming voices.

“Guardian god Sebo, I thank you once again for the abundant grace you have bestowed upon me today.”

With a faint smile, the pillar of light gradually faded. In its wake remained nothing but the torn, horrific remains of the monsters. Garuel tried to step away before the creatures’ blood could spill onto him—he knew how difficult it was to clean blood off his uniform.

But before he could even take five steps—

“Kugh……!”

A sudden ringing in his ears was followed by an intense pain radiating from his left eye. With a heat that felt like it was burning his eye from within, Garuel clutched at his face and staggered violently. He quickly activated healing magic, but the pain only worsened.

‘I wasn’t struck in the eye. It’s not dust or blood either. Then why……’

The inexplicable pain grew more intense with each passing second until he was finally forced to his knees, right into the monster’s blood. His hand pressed harder over his eye—it was an excruciating pain, bad enough to make him want to rip it out.

Barely suppressing the urge to writhe on the ground, he finally lowered his hand. He couldn’t afford to collapse here. If he was going to faint from the pain, it had to be back in the village where his knights could tend to him.

With that thought, Garuel opened his unaffected right eye wide. He had to call for his horse, waiting in the distance. However—

“……?”

In the half-scope of his vision, the space around him was now filled with an ominous, thick black miasma.

‘What is this……? Monsters?’

Could it be that there was an enemy he hadn’t detected? But there shouldn’t be any monsters in the vicinity capable of releasing this kind of energy. The confusion lasted only a moment before Garuel realized that the black aura surrounding him was demonic energy.

The dark power wielded by demons from the Demon Realm. That unpleasant energy was slowly starting to flood the area. Garuel reflexively gripped his sword. He didn’t know where an enemy might emerge from. Whether or not he could face a demon in his current condition, he at least needed to buy time to escape.

But no enemy revealed itself no matter how long he waited. Not a demon, not even a single monster. He wasn’t attacked in any way, nor did he feel threatened.

He spent several minutes like that—tense, in the silence—trying to regulate his breathing. Garuel’s fingers began to tremble slightly. He gently brushed over his left eyelid, which no longer felt any pain, and slowly rose to his feet, body still hunched.

He needed to breathe in clean air, free of demonic energy. Forcing his weakened legs to move, he pushed forward through the haze. Splish, splish—the sound of his feet stepping in puddles of blood echoed in his ears. The wet, sticky sound persisted for a long while, yet strangely, he couldn’t seem to get out of the demonic haze.

But that area ahead—he was sure it hadn’t been covered in demonic energy. He had seen it. That spot had been outside its reach. And yet, the thick demonic fog clung to him stubbornly. No matter how he struggled forward, gasping from the lingering pain, he couldn’t break free from it.

And only much later did Garuel realize—

“It’s coming…… from me.”

Why? Why was demonic energy flowing from his own body? It made no sense. An enemy’s attack? A curse? Black magic? But by whom? And for what reason? Questions chased each other in a spiral. The more he thought, the more it became certain: this demonic energy was spilling out from him.

It was vile. Disgusting. He wanted to purge it by releasing his holy magic, but nothing came. He thought he was drawing upon holy light, but what emerged instead was demonic energy. It streamed from him ceaselessly, soaking his body. A shiver of revulsion ran through him, and he frantically reached for his left eye.

‘If it’s related to the pain in my eye……’

The demonic energy had appeared at the peak of that searing pain. It had to be connected. Garuel fumbled at his chest and grasped the long chain of his cross pendant. With a strong tug, the necklace snapped, and he brought the silver cross close to his face. It wouldn’t reflect his entire face, but it could show one eye clearly. And then—

“M-My eye…… What’s wrong with my eye……”

A demon’s eye stared back at him. A demon’s eye. The once clear white of his sclera had turned pitch black, oily, and gleaming. It was black magic—it had to be. Someone, out of jealousy or resentment, must’ve paid a black magician to do this to him. Caught off guard, he’d fallen victim to dark sorcery. His left eye had transformed into something out of the Demon Realm, and now, demonic energy poured from his body.

No—maybe it was just an illusion. A dream. Maybe he was asleep. He had been especially exhausted today. Days of nonstop expeditions with no proper rest must’ve taken a toll. And yet, of all dreams…… Why this one?

He clawed madly at his eye. He pressed the cross so close to it, it might as well have been gouging into the socket, hoping—praying—to see his true eye return. But no matter how much he scratched, rubbed, or pounded his eyelid—

The demon’s eye would not disappear.

Garuel’s breathing quickened. Clutching the cross tightly, he pressed his hands together and began to pray. Pleading to be awakened from this nightmare. To be granted the strength to overcome this trial. To be saved. To be blessed with divine grace. Over and over, he prayed—then, desperately, he raised the cross to his eye again.

Nothing had changed.

“No. No, no, no…… This can’t be. This can’t be happening! Why me?!”

He remembered his father, whose identity no one had ever known, and his mother, who had died the moment he was born. The origin he had always wondered about but never received answers to now crept back to him, casting a shadow of dread across his heart. In a flash of despair, Garuel hurled the cross away and drew his sword. Raising the long blade in a reversed grip, he plunged it without hesitation into his left eye.

A wave of excruciating pain unlike anything he had ever known surged through him. And yet, Garuel did not scream. He simply stabbed—and withdrew the blade.

“This…… this should do it. Right?”

Whether it was a dream or reality, he just needed to rid himself of that vile eye. Living with one eye would be inconvenient, sure—but not impossible. Steadying his breath to control the pain, he crawled over and picked up the discarded cross. With a face full of hope, he brought it back to his eye.

“Ah…… Ahh……”

Tears of blood flowed cruelly down his cheek. His shrunken eyeball trembled. And then, demonic energy surged into it. Defying his will, it poured in chaotically and soaked into the wounded orb. That black energy closed the gash and erased the scar. He was forced to watch as his eyeball regenerated.

And when that unmistakable demon’s eye revealed itself again in perfect clarity, Garuel knew—

He would never again be able to call upon the name of God.