Round Five: Competition

The light of the twin suns was nearly gone from the sky. Freth made a gesture, ordering a camp to be set up. By the time both suns had sunk below the desert’s horizon, the caravan was fully established. The days in the desert were hot, but with enough water, one could survive. Yet the nights could freeze to death anyone who slept outdoors, and almost all desert creatures were active at night—traveling by night was never a good idea.

Freth arranged shifts for guards, then went into his tent to keep warm by the furnace. In such an environment with extreme temperature swings, a merchant’s top priorities were to guard against the weather, monsters, and illness. But Josen didn’t have to worry about any of these. His well-trained body was strong, and the sacred purity within him kept him immune to most diseases; even harsh conditions couldn’t harm him.

Josen was still thinking about that Half-Purgatory traveler. He was an excellent holy warrior. Though young, he had already gained a reputation for killing many villains and evil creatures with his sword—justice and evil were incompatible, and Josen firmly believed this. Yet this guy, though undoubtedly a Half-Purgatory creature, was different from those he had seen before. Although Josen had never encountered higher-tier, purer Purgatory demons, it was clear this one wasn’t a pure demon or devil either. At least the armor beneath his cloak was quite unusual. As for exactly what was different, Josen wasn’t a scientist or an encyclopedia keeper of great demons.

He had been observing these days but hadn’t seen a trace of that Half-Purgatory creature. It seemed he had truly left since that day. Yet, faintly, an evil scent lingered in the air, reminding Josen that this was by no means a safe environment and that he must not take it lightly.

After checking around, Josen brought water and food to Mireia’s tent and gently called her name. No response.

Mireia had spoken little these days, sometimes seeming distracted. Josen thought she might still be angry at not being able to uphold justice or blaming herself for not having enough power to eliminate all evil in the world… Perhaps after leaving the desert, he should talk to her properly. So Josen lifted the tent curtain, but the tent was empty. Her sword and armor were surely on her, but her crossbow and holy water pouch were gone too. Josen rushed out of the tent—only his own warhorse remained tied behind it. Where had Mireia gone?

Josen didn’t have time to blame himself for his carelessness, as he thought of one place—where Mireia was most likely to go and yet least supposed to. He quickly asked the soldiers on patrol. Their answer was that Miss Mireia left on her own while they were busy setting up camp. Her mercenary tried to stop her, but Mireia said she wouldn’t go far and would return soon, without needing to tell Josen—

Obviously.

Josen anxiously watched the undulating sand dunes under the night sky. Shrouded in darkness, they were mysterious and seemed to be slowly changing shape, like a pack of beasts waiting to pounce on their prey.

He really didn’t want to accept this not-so-pleasant assumption. Milia’s ability to detect evil was far better than his own… plus her behavior these past days… So that’s why… Damn! I really shouldn’t have thought she was just daydreaming!
“Mr. Freys, my companion Milia might have gone after that half-purgatorial creature alone! I need to borrow your mercenaries to bring her back!” Jason rushed into Freys’ tent without knocking, as was uncharacteristic of him, causing the entire tent to shake slightly.
“What? What? What’s going on?” Freys, wearing a very funny sleep hat, poked his head out of his warm sleeping bag. He was about to get angry at being disturbed from his good dream, but when he saw it was Jason, he immediately realized something serious had happened.
“My companion might get lost in the desert. Please help me find her!” Jason looked anxious.
“Ah!” After understanding the situation, Freys sat up and slapped his thigh. “What’s the point of this! How could you…?” His expression showed the look of someone who can’t control their own pet cat.
He was also quite frustrated: “Even if it’s a demon—demons kill people, but don’t snakes kill too? Snakes lie in the grass; you just walk by, right? Why go and kick them?”
“Mr. Freys, now isn’t the time for that. Please send a few mercenaries to help me!”
Freyss frowned at Jason—after thinking for a while, he finally sighed. “Sigh! Alright!”
The white horse paced restlessly, and even Milia’s attempts to calm it couldn’t fully soothe it.
“Come out! Stop hiding like some filthy devil!” Milia said sternly. The faint glow on her sword resembled a torch in the darkness, dispelling the shadows around her.
The white horse suddenly let out a loud neigh, almost breaking free from its reins. Sand on a dune in front of her exploded, raising dust like a sandstorm.
Although she had traveled far, Milia wasn’t lost. The holy light guided her, leading her to the enemy she must defeat—it was the guidance of the Lord of Glory, and Milia became even more certain of her duty.
“You evil creature, accept the punishment you deserve!” Even a knight blessed by the gods with little combat experience could instantly unleash a courage as bright as that of a high-ranking holy warrior.
Sand fell through the folds of her cloak, and two red lights, like burning flames, shone through the dust at Milia, standing in sharp contrast to the white holy light on her sword.
“Always talking nonsense about evil and filth. Is that glowing thing in your hand a microphone?” Forty-Seven was utterly fed up with this little girl, adopting an attitude as if he was ready to kill her.
In fact, the light emanating from Milia’s sword made Forty-Seven feel extremely uncomfortable, especially his wound that still hadn’t healed, causing even more pain. He still wondered how he had been cut.
Unable to bear the loneliness in the dead of night… This girl was even more warlike than the guys from the Great Abyss, or perhaps even more idle.

“Don’t you have any other things to do as a human? Like going to bed properly?” Fourty-Seven’s voice still had that hoarse metallic tone, so even if he was joking, it sounded like a provocation.
Milia didn’t reply; instead, she grew even angrier. Evil alone was already unbearable to her, let alone evil and obscene things—even though Fourty-Seven didn’t mean it that way.
But she didn’t attack rashly. Though she was a Divine Knight with little combat experience, that didn’t mean she would be reckless in a life-or-death struggle.
Milia patted her white horse’s neck and let it run away on its own.
Fourty-Seven raised his two swords, holding the bladeless part with his left hand, aiming at Milia as if using a spear: “Where’s your accomplice? Where is he hiding? Or does he plan to cut off my hand or foot when I’m not paying attention?”
“O Lord of Eternal Glory… We wander in the darkness, seeking only that glimmer of light ahead… I call upon your name, begging for your help… I offer my courage and honor to prove my loyalty to justice and light, so that all our weakness and fear in the face of evil may vanish in the light you bestow upon us…”
Milia knelt down, pressing her sword to her forehead as she prayed. The glow from the sword grew stronger, enveloping her entire body.
This girl wasn’t ordinary—she could emit light.
Fourty-Seven was both amused and exasperated. He really didn’t understand why she dared to pray so boldly in front of him as if in a church. If he were a vile Pit Fiend, he wouldn’t wait patiently for her to calm down before engaging in some so-called “friendly duel.”
These humans were truly strange. On one hand, they called him evil, and on the other hand, they expected him to be as noble as a saint—only to then mercilessly cut off his head. What a ridiculous logic.
But he still didn’t attack first. Instead, he stayed still. From their last battle, Fourty-Seven had realized that no matter how strong or weak the opponent was, they could be considered his natural enemies. Perhaps because his body had merged with too many Pit creatures, he was powerful but no longer immune to many things as before. And now, rather than trying to learn more about the enemy, Fourty-Seven was simply too lazy to give a hypocrite an excuse to turn him into a real villain. Actually, he was overthinking it.
Milia stood up.
The next moment, the two swords clashed. White light and red flames collided violently, sparking dazzling lightning.
Fourty-Seven was slightly surprised. Bathed in holy light, Milia’s strength and speed far exceeded what a woman should possess. This wasn’t something that could be compensated for through training. No matter how much one trained, it was unlikely they could compete in strength even with an ordinary adult bull. And now, Milia could even occasionally deflect Fourty-Seven’s sword strikes—
Though this sword was quite handy.

Forty-seven wielded the giant sword with ease; its serrated blade sliced through the air, creating a deadly zone around him that no one could enter. Even when it came into contact with Milia’s sword infused with holy light, there was no sign of damage at all. This wonderful feeling made Forty-seven wonder if he should show some mercy to that fat merchant and just cut off that annoying blond girl’s hand.
But the wound on his waist still hurt. Especially the pull exerted by Milia’s radiant glow was like having salt scattered on it—so annoying! It would be better to kill her!
So Forty-seven swung his battle axe swordsmanship, which he hadn’t used in ages.