The first thing I saw when I woke up was the ceiling with water stains.
Just staring at the ceiling made me feel a splitting headache.
It had been a long time since I had such a hangover.
On the table was a bowl of water, but it was too far to reach.
With no other choice, I sat up from the bed.
The headache made me stagger once before I regained my balance.
A voice came from the bed.
Endymion slowly turned his gaze toward it.
It was Yulia.
Maybe because of his gaze, Yulia slowly opened her eyes.
Then she gave a sorrowful smile that suited her pale face and spoke.
“You’re awake?”
Endymion silently walked to the table and picked up the bowl.
He took a sip of the water.
The holy water cleared his mind.
Sitting on the edge of the table, he quietly stared at Yulia.
Endymion still said nothing.
Yulia parted her lips and said.
“Don’t worry. We only held hands and slept.”
“You must have drunk quite a lot yesterday. Both of us.”
“You handled your drink surprisingly well.”
Endymion fell silent again.
Yulia rolled around on the bed.
Her black hair covered her body.
“You looked handsome.”
Again, there was no reply.
Endymion picked up the clothes scattered on the floor and put them on one by one.
Watching him put on his top, Yulia also sat up.
Sunlight coming through the window shone on her body.
Endymion squinted and frowned at the dazzling light.
After finishing dressing, he brushed back his hair with his hand.
Yulia spoke to him.
“The drawing on your back.”
Endymion froze.
He stood still for a moment, as if deciding what to say, then opened his mouth.
“It is impressive, yes. So there were some who coveted it. But now, not a single one remains.”
“Why not?”
“Because they all died by my hand.”
Yulia smiled as she rose from the bed.
Then she began to put on the clothes scattered on the floor.
Endymion quietly watched her dress.
It was a well-trained body.
Just by the scars across her frame and the calluses on her hands, one could tell how fiercely she had fought demons.
It felt strange.
She had risked her life fighting to protect people from the threat of the Archdemon, and had spent a hundred years purifying their corpses.
And yet people were still fighting demons.
People were gradually becoming weary.
“Endymion, when I look at you, I think of the legend of the Grail Knight.”
Yulia, now fully dressed, leaned against the window.
The pouring sunlight made her face appear even paler.
“A name the same as his, the strength to slay demons and subdue even a skilled holy knight with ease, and the Grail drawn on your back…”
“The Grail Knight died a hundred years ago. No one can live beyond a hundred years.”
Endymion cut her off.
She opened her eyes wide, then smiled faintly again and said.
“Yes, you’re right. Maybe I’m just too tired. From this long, endless fight. Perhaps that’s why I wish for a hero to appear.”
People needed a hero.
That was what the king had said a hundred years ago.
Endymion had become that hero.
He had borrowed the Grail from the Queen of the Lake, slaughtered countless demons, and at last severed the Archdemon’s head.
He crooked his lips into a half-smile and said.
“Heroes aren’t what matter. What truly matters is not losing the will to resist. Just like you.”
As he walked toward the door, Endymion spoke.
“I will be going first.”
When he opened the door and stepped out, armed holy knights were staring at him.
Their faces were perfectly clear, as though they had never even heard of a hangover.
Endymion was impressed.
They had all drunk together, and even as a Grail Knight, he had not escaped a hangover.
But the fact that ordinary holy knights were fine was truly remarkable.
As Yulia had said, they seemed to fear only the Almighty.
Endymion found a spot to sit and ordered breakfast from a passing page.
The holy knights, who had already finished their meals and were only waiting to depart, continued to look at him.
He tried to stay still until his food arrived, but their stares got on his nerves, so he lifted his head and met their eyes.
With a sigh, he muttered quietly.
“Eyes down.”
The holy knights chuckled.
Endymion ignored them.
Just then his meal arrived, and with his head lowered, he focused on eating.
One piece of bread, a bowl of stew, one sausage.
The taste was decent.
When he had just finished eating, the door opened and Veronica entered, her face gaunt.
She staggered over to Endymion’s side and collapsed onto the table, burying her head.
Endymion ordered a glass of water.
Warm water was brought quickly.
He held the cup briefly, then handed it to Veronica.
“…Ugh, this? You want me to drink this? Is it honey water?”
“No.”
“Just plain water? I appreciate the thought, but even water makes me feel like I will throw up.”
“It’s holy water. Drink it.”
Holy water?
At his words, Veronica looked doubtful, but she still took the cup.
She drank a sip.
The water tasted very sweet.
It wasn’t the sweetness of sugar.
It was just water, yet somehow it felt sweet.
And refreshing.
It really did seem to be no ordinary water.
After finishing the whole cup, her hangover vanished completely.
Veronica’s eyes flew wide open.
“Sir Endymion!”
“What?”
“How about we use this to do business? I think we could easily earn a hundred gold coins!”
“The power of the Holy Grail isn’t meant for something like that. Where is Lionel?”
Veronica pouted, then shrugged her shoulders as she answered.
“He went to the restroom. He should be back soon.”
“We will leave as soon as Lionel returns.”
Even before the words had finished, Lionel stepped into the inn. He sniffed the air as if searching for someone by scent and headed straight toward Endymion. He didn’t look like he was suffering from a hangover. Endymion placed a few coins on the table and rose from his seat. Then he and his companions walked out of the inn.
They had left their horses tied at the temple yesterday and later brought them to the stable when they came to the inn. Now, they retrieved their mounts and rode out beyond Halia. With Veronica leading the way, they moved toward the old castle ruins. The journey would normally take about half a day, but since they did not rest, they would arrive sooner.
The closer they came to the ruins, the darker the sky became. In Halia, the sun had been blazing overhead, and now it was noon, so it should have been bright all around. But the thick gray clouds made it look dim like dawn. Veronica thought the atmosphere was unusually heavy. The chill in the air truly made it feel like they were entering a demon’s lair. She reminded herself to stay calm. Demons grew stronger the more fear their opponent showed.
Not that there was anything to fear in the first place. There wasn’t a single demon in existence that could defeat Endymion and Lionel.
“That’s where the Vidalia Fortress once stood. Now it’s all collapsed, with only the shape barely holding together.”
Endymion looked toward the spot Veronica was pointing at. What was once a fortress now exuded nothing but ruin. It was the perfect place for rats to nest. The three of them dismounted. They tied their horses deliberately far from the ruins so that no evil spirits would try to take them.
They walked for about ten minutes and finally reached the ruins. Lionel, ever sensitive, had already drawn his sword. Even without sight, his body could sense that something about this place was ominous.
Endymion once again took the lead. To protect Veronica, the mage stood right behind him, while Lionel guarded the rear. Having such heroes watching over her gave her a surprisingly comforting feeling.
They walked deep into the ruins, yet nothing appeared. Only a chilly breeze and an unpleasant mood. Even Lionel stood silently, which meant there really was nothing around. Endymion, however, noticed the fog thickening as they advanced. The fact that only this place was foggy and dim was proof that a demon had tampered with it. He walked quietly until he saw movement beyond the mist. Just as he clenched his fist, a human voice rang out.
“Help me! Please help me! The evil spirits are trying to kill me!”
A woman with disheveled hair and bleeding wounds burst out of the fog. She ran straight toward Endymion, her expression desperate. Veronica quickly opened her mouth.
“Are you all right? Evil spirits are chasing you? Don’t worry, we will…”
Endymion stretched out his hand toward the crying woman rushing at him. He clasped her head as if to embrace her, but then slammed it against the wall. There was a hard cracking sound as thick fluids splattered down. Veronica clapped her hands over her mouth with a gasp. But the real shock was yet to come.
The woman’s body, though her skull was broken, twitched violently and then lunged at Endymion again. He grabbed her half-destroyed head and smashed it once more against the wall. As the body sagged, he hurled it to the ground and crushed the head completely with his boot.
The corpse convulsed in small spasms before going still. At that moment, countless howls of evil spirits echoed from beyond the mist. They all lurched grotesquely and charged toward Endymion. What stood out was that every one of them had the form of a human. Normally, evil spirits looked grotesque and revolting, far from human.
“This demon is a real bastard.”
Endymion rotated his wrist, readying himself for battle. There was no need to draw his sword against such trash. Strictly speaking, these weren’t even true evil spirits. They were once living humans whose souls had been stolen by the demon, turned into pitiful puppets.
Realizing the situation, Veronica hurriedly began chanting a spell. The evil spirits reacted violently to her incantation. They instinctively knew her magic could kill many of them at once. Yet, no matter how many swarmed her, they could never reach her. Endymion’s iron fists shattered their skulls, and Lionel’s blade severed their necks. The two of them fought more than ten evil spirits without letting a single strike land.
While they held the horde at bay, Veronica completed her incantation and called down lightning from the sky. The evil spirits shrieked as they convulsed, burned black, and collapsed to the ground. Veronica almost shrugged and joked that her effort was worth at least two gold coins, but then closed her mouth.
Beyond the mist, dozens more evil spirits writhed and swarmed.
“Uh, looks like there are a lot of them.”
Endymion replied indifferently.
“A hundred years ago, that number was the standard for a single fight.”
“That damned ‘a hundred years ago’ again…”