SFRW-Chapter 214

Ch. 214 Sword God From The Ruined World

“Well… so… how should I put this…”  

Choi Kang-soo scratched the back of his head awkwardly.  

“Please answer. Are you the so-called ‘Paladin of Rumors’, the knight known as Desion’s Chosen?”  

“I am the person in the rumors, but…”  

Choi Kang-soo still hesitated.  

If he were a man—if Seraph hadn’t possessed goddess-level beauty enough to rattle his brain—he would have answered boldly without hesitation.  

But the moment he saw Seraph’s face, his words got stuck in his throat.  

“Are you truly Seraph of the Desion Order?”  

While Choi Kang-soo stammered, Seo Do-jun stepped forward.  

They had all heard of Seraph’s name and knew exactly who she was.  

Seraph, finding Seo Do-jun easier to deal with than the flustered Choi Kang-soo, nodded at him.  

“That is correct. I am Seraph, Paladin of the former Papacy Order that serves the god Desion.”  

Her cold eyes demanded their identities in return, so Seo Do-jun spoke.  

“We are the Dimensional Strike Force, here to liberate this world from Barhaut.”  

“…?”  

Seraph’s expression twisted.  

Liberation from Barhaut?  

Dimensional Strike Force?  

As if dismissing it as nonsense, she scowled, irritation plain on her beautiful face.  

“Haah… What on earth are you talking about?”  

Her demeanor shifted sharply.  

Hostility, rather than goodwill, dominated her expression now.  

Seo Do-jun wasn’t bothered—he had expected this.  

It would have been stranger if she had accepted everything outright.  

Since cooperation with the Desion faith (the former Papacy Order) required full transparency, he pressed on despite knowing her reaction.  

“The Great Monster War and the Pope’s betrayal—both are connected to Barhaut.”  

“Barhaut? Who is that?”  

“Explaining it as ‘Bahat’ might be easier.”  

“…Bahat?”  

Seraph’s expression changed again.  

Her face contorted with terrifying fury, revealing the depth of her hatred for Bahat.  

“It seems we need a long conversation.”  

Seraph demanded a detailed explanation—and was determined to hear it.  

“Of course.”  

Seo Do-jun nodded readily.  

***

“…This is not something I can decide alone.”  

After hearing Seo Do-jun’s lengthy explanation, Seraph broke her long silence with this response.  

“Naturally.”  

Seo Do-jun acknowledged her position. Seraph then left to consult Apostle Bekha, the de facto leader of the former Papacy Order.  

Watching Seraph depart, Kusak’s eyes gleamed with interest.  

“That woman is no ordinary figure. Honestly, to my eyes, she seemed on par with Palaresta. Kassal, what do you think?”  

Kusak referenced Palaresta, the former wielder of Mute’s Divine Sword.  

“I doubt there’s much difference.”  

Even Seo Do-jun recognized Seraph’s strength. Choi Kang-soo, listening in, widened his eyes in shock.  

“Uncle! Is she really that incredible?”  

“She’s on a whole different level from a fake Holy Knight like you. Seraph is the real deal. The Divine Sword would confirm it.”  

When Choi Kang-soo asked the Divine Sword, it surprisingly didn’t deny it.  

『I wouldn’t say she’s equal to Palaresta, but she’s undoubtedly an exceptional Holy Knight. Someone like her appears maybe once in an era.』  

The fact that she wasn’t just a goddess in looks alone made Choi Kang-soo’s heart race even more.  

“By the way, will Apostle Bekha of the former Papacy Order believe us?”  

Veronica wore a worried expression, concerned they had been too direct. Seo Do-jun remained unfazed.  

“He may not trust us 100%, but he’ll at least meet us. Given our actions so far—and the former Papacy Order’s desperate position against the current Pope’s forces—they’ll want to recruit us if possible.”  

“True. At this point, denying us would be hard.”  

Choi Kang-soo had done more than anyone to spread Desion’s name and faith lately, making it impossible for the former Papacy Order to ignore them.  

The fact that they sent Seraph already showed some goodwill.  

“Shall we push forward?”  

Everyone agreed to Seo Do-jun’s plan—to further solidify their reputation as divine knights and heroes before Seraph returned.  

As planned, even after Seraph left, Seo Do-jun’s group fully immersed themselves in their roles.  

With each passing day, rumors swelled. Some kingdoms even secretly sent invitations, requesting private meetings.  

“Formal invitations would draw the Pope’s ire, so they’re approaching us discreetly?”  

“Must be. No point inviting trouble.”  

Seo Do-jun’s group declined all offers. Their priority was the former Papacy Order, not kingdoms or empires.  

Finally, the awaited response arrived.  

“Apostle Bekha wishes to meet you all. Are you prepared?”  

Seraph appeared in person, her emotions carefully masked—but the faint hint of goodwill made Seo Do-jun sense things were going as planned.  

***

The place Seraph led them to was the former Papacy Order’s temporary base.  

Compared to the grand Papacy buildings, it was a humble shelter—but its occupants were anything but.  

“I am Bekha, servant of Lord Desion.”  

Once one of Desion’s Seven Apostles, now the last remaining, Bekha is a man in his early fifties.  

His tone exudes warmth, and his face radiated benevolence, as if he could understand and accept anything.  

Yet his penetrating gaze was intimidating enough to unsettle anyone who met it.  

Of course, that depended on the person.  

‘…I never imagined someone with such profound depth existed.’  

Bekha, meeting Seo Do-jun’s eyes, was visibly taken aback—though not foolish enough to show it openly.  

“Paladin Seraph has told me everything. Frankly, it’s hard to believe.”  

“Yet you agreed to meet us. Doesn’t that mean you recognize our usefulness?”  

Seo Do-jun pressed forward bluntly, just as he had with Seraph. Bekha nodded.  

“Admittedly, our situation is dire. But no matter how desperate, we won’t ally with forces of dubious intent.”  

“Our goal is singular: to secure the dimensional rift to the next planet from the current Pope—or rather, Barhaut’s lackey acting as this world’s Administrator.”  

“Does such a dimensional rift truly exist?”  

“It does.”  

At Seo Do-jun’s firm reply, Bekha studied his eyes before shaking his head.  

In all his years discerning truth from people’s words, he had never encountered someone like Seo Do-jun—from whom he sensed nothing.  

The only comfort was the sincerity he felt from his companions, offering some reassurance.  

“The Pope is no easy foe. A single word from him commands thousands of paladins willing to throw away their lives, not to mention countless priests. Worse, the northern regions are already…”  

Firmly under the Pope’s control.  

So much so that not even an ant could move freely there.  

“We’ll handle that part. But what comes after must be resolved by the former Papacy Order.”  

They would carve a path to the Pope and spill blood—but it was up to the Order to steer that path rightly.  

“A very tempting offer.”  

So tempting it almost felt like the whispers of a devil.  

Seo Do-jun only smiled in response.  

Whether it was the smile of an angel or a devil, even Bekha couldn’t tell.  

‘…I have no choice but to accept.’  

Bekha calmly resigned himself to the inevitable.  

***

“So the ‘monster’ causing chaos in the north is your ally?”  

Seraph frowned at Choi Kang-soo.  

“‘Monster’ isn’t quite right. He’s a Half-Dragon, a different species. Their homeworld was also conquered by Barhaut.”  

“Half-Dragon?”  

Seraph tilted her head. In a world without dragons, elves, or other races, explaining Half-Dragons left Choi Kang-soo struggling.  

Once he managed, Seraph couldn’t hide her shock at the existence of a race with abilities far surpassing humans.  

“Such terrifying non-human beings exist… I’d like to meet one.”  

Her curiosity was so endearing that Choi Kang-soo vowed to introduce Koroka to her.  

“But no matter how strong, going alone is dangerous. The Pope possesses a hidden power.”  

Having witnessed it firsthand, Seraph was certain Koroka would be in grave danger.  

“Don’t worry, that guy’s survival instincts are sharp. Hahaha!”  

Choi Kang-soo laughed it off—  

But at that very moment, Koroka was in mortal peril, just as Seraph warned.  

CRASH!  

“Ghk—!”  

Sent flying, Koroka grimaced at the sight of his left arm’s scales shattered and torn.  

He glared at his attacker—a man wielding a sword.  

Though human in form, the aura he emitted was anything but.  

A twisted, deathly energy.  

The man’s presence alone had startled Koroka multiple times.  

“Die.”  

His voice and speech were unnatural.  

Worse—  

Darkness swirled to the man’s left, and he plunged his sword into it.  

SHINK!  

“Ugh—!”  

A blade erupted from the shadows behind Koroka, aiming for his wing.  

Instinctively, he extended his wing bones to block—but the force was staggering.  

Before he could recover, the man lunged.  

His sword streaked toward Koroka’s neck.  

SLASH!  

Koroka barely dodged by spreading his wings—but darkness split mid-air, swallowing the sword before it reappeared beside his throat.  

GUSH!  

“GYAAAH—!”  

Blood sprayed as the blade tore through scales and flesh.  

Agony wracked Koroka’s body, but he refused to fall.  

The man pressed his advantage, attacking relentlessly—blinding speed, devastating swordsmanship, and spatial manipulation.  

Koroka hadn’t faced death like this since fighting Seo Do-jun’s group.  

Yet, drawing on his Half-Dragon resilience, he kept evading, turning the battle into a deadly game of tag.  

“You. Will. Die.”  

The man’s eyes blackened as multiple voids spawned around him.  

‘This is bad!’  

Koroka knew the next strike would be lethal.  

“HOOOOH—!”  

He inhaled deeply—just as the man slashed toward the voids.  

“FWOOSH—!”  

Dragon Breath—a legacy of his bloodline—erupted from Koroka’s mouth, engulfing the man.  

Simultaneously, blades shot from the voids, shredding Koroka’s body from all angles.  

STAB! SLASH! REND!  

It was as if multiple attackers struck at once.  

His durable flesh crumbled under the assault.  

Yet Koroka maintained his Breath.  

The man, in turn, suffered horrific damage—skin flayed, bones shattered beyond repair.  

“GHAH—!”  

Koroka collapsed, blood gushing from his mouth.  

The last attack had taken too much.  

But his eyes shone with triumph.  

“…Idiot.”  

Half-Dragons healed with time. Humans didn’t.  

The man’s mangled body would never rise again.  

Victory, though brutal, brought euphoria.  

Koroka forced himself up, knowing he needed time to recover in safety.  

WHOOSH!  

He spread his wings, taking flight—  

STAB!  

“GYAAAAGH—!”  

His left wing was impaled.  

“…H-How?!”  

The man—wounds that should have been fatal—was standing.  

Black smoke wreathed him, regenerating his body.  

Without hesitation, Koroka fled.  

The man watched him disappear, sheathing his sword.  

But his gaze never left the sky.  

“Die.”