Taming the Evil Saintess

---

Black Water Elgore is a demon of the giant race, the last bloodline of his kind.

The giant race, a lineage nearly as mysterious as the Demon King, grants Elgore an unimaginable nobility from birth. “One of a kind” is how he’s often described. From a young age, Elgore gained the favor of other demons. Just his mere walk would earn the loyalty of many. He also caught the attention of the Demon King.

It was only natural that Elgore rose to become a high-ranking officer in the Demon King’s Army at such a young age.

Born destined for greatness.

Yet, Elgore could not be satisfied with his circumstances.

A born warrior, he craved tension. A noble fight that assumes the possibility of defeat.

Elgore had no rivals.

The only being that pushed him to the brink of death was the outlier, One-Eyed Knight Geldmier. However, due to a non-aggression pact among high-ranking officers of the Demon King’s Army, they couldn’t fight.

That’s why he formed a pirate crew as an independent unit instead of remaining in the Demon King’s Castle. He sought strong opponents. Although he fought the capital’s Knight Order, known as the greatest in the Empire, none could satisfy him.

Elgore’s unyielding spirit remains unbroken.

It’s only that it wears away under endless hunger.

“…Hah.”

But what of Elgore now?

Exhilaration. That chilling sensation creeping up his spine.

A deep premonition of defeat.

“Uha-ha! A hero! You really are a hero!”

When he first heard the words “hero,” Elgore didn’t pay much attention. After all, a hero is just a human. Elgore had crushed and feasted on countless humans until now. As long as the hero’s race was human, no matter how skillful, they could never keep up with him; that’s how he concluded.

But when he faced him directly and their fists clashed, he felt it without a doubt.

“Hahahaha!”

This guy was strong.

Strong enough for Elgore to risk death.

That realization made him feel alive.

“Ah, I really like you!”

“Wh-what the hell?”

Hero Elliot recoiled in shock.

Elgore’s condition was amazing in its own right. His chest was wide open. Though he held himself together through superhuman regeneration, if he suffered even one more fatal wound, he wouldn’t survive.

But was that life really so important?

No.

He could fight.

Just the realization of that made Elgore happy.

And it wasn’t just Elgore who was in tatters. Hero Elliot was in a similar state.

His left hand and elbow were completely shattered, and a massive hole gaped in his side. Moreover, with a broken collarbone pressing against his internal organs, his breath was becoming irregular.

“Ah, cough, I can only commend you. You are the first to push me this hard.”

“Yeah. I haven’t fought this damn hard since Geldmier.”

Neither side was in perfect condition.

They couldn’t both meticulously trade blows and strategize anymore. It’ll be a desperate, mud-slinging brawl from here on.

Elgore took his stance, and Elliot charged.

He threw a punch. Elliot’s leg twisted grotesquely. In a moment, Elliot’s sword grazed Elgore’s chest. Blood spewed out. His insides ruptured, leaving him momentarily breathless.

A surge of exhilaration. Elgore grinned widely, tilting his head back and delivering a blow like a hammer.

A headbutt. An elementary technique, but the effect was substantial. Elliot’s shoulder crumpled under the force of the strike. The arm holding the sword drooped weakly.

However, in that brief instance, Elliot’s sword carved a deep gash into Elgore’s side. Blood burst forth.

He didn’t care about defense. The one standing wins. There’s no room for unnecessary tactics in this simple rule.

“Fun, isn’t it!”

Elgore swung his fist, coughing up blood as he felt something break within him, but he also experienced the pain tearing through his body.

How long had he longed for such a battle?

‘I will win. Absolutely.’

Fueled by the desire to win, Elgore took a step forward.

In a war of attrition, Elgore’s robust physique would overwhelm Elliot. The difference in their fundamental bodyweights couldn’t be ignored. And more than anything, having just shattered Elliot’s right shoulder left him unable to wield his sword with full strength.

It was favorable. He could win.

That’s what he thought—until he noticed the translucent light glimmering on Elliot’s sword.

‘…Sword Power.’

Even without the connection to mana, magic, or divine power, Elgore recognized the identity of that light. Sword Power. It’s not as flashy as the blazing sword energy he’d seen moments before, but that dense light overwhelmed even the sword energy.

As of now, there was only one knight on the continent using Sword Power—Sword Saint Albrecht.

That was until now.

“Ah, have you gained enlightenment?”

“Thanks to you.”

Elliot grinned and swung his sword. His condition was such that the swing was sluggish, but the power contained within was on a whole different level. Elgore’s fist swung to deflect it, but it shattered, exposing bone.

That wasn’t the end. The Sword Power sliced through his hand and shredded Elgore’s arm to pieces.

Even the giant race’s innate healing ability could no longer keep up; any severed flesh from his body emerged pale and void of blood.

A chilling sensation.

He realized the balance had tipped.

“…Huh!”

Elgore swung his fist. It was a strike with all his might, yet his punch passed by Elliot’s temple. His forehead cracked, blood streaming down, but the hero’s azure eyes were locked onto his prey.

Elgore sensed it.

A crisis.

He tried to curl up and protect his chest, but he was a moment too late.

Elliot struck.

Elgore’s heart was pierced.

*

It was hot.

His entire body.

And his head.

The mark continued to pump his heart, and thus the life force spread throughout his body, empowering him.

“…Dammit. I’m really gonna die.”

Kneeling, he spewed out the blood of the dead.

There were limits to his life force and mark. He had used mana beyond what his body could handle. The level of injuries he sustained was miraculous to still be alive.

Blood poured from the hole in his side. He could no longer use mana to stop the bleeding. He raised his hand to stem it, but even that hand was twisted at two angles.

He couldn’t believe how much blood he was losing; the area was drenched in red.

No, this isn’t my blood.

“Ugh.”

Though the owner of all that spilled blood, moments ago Elgore, whose heart had been pierced, was standing firm as if to boast of his monstrous vitality.

Yet he felt no spirit left in him.

It wouldn’t be right to say he couldn’t fight; it was that he just couldn’t.

“Cough.”

Blood gushed from Elgore like a waterfall.

His pale face was hard to read, yet it seemed he was smiling.

“Impressive, little brother. To awaken Sword Power at the last moment.”

“Just got lucky.”

In truth, he could only vaguely imitate Sword Power. He just hadn’t perfected it yet. But in desperately manipulating mana while lacking an arm and dislocated shoulder, inversely, his mind cleared.

That allowed him to complete Sword Power. As if to invoke the teachings of Buddha, one might call it the purification of the five senses. While he was lost in such useless thoughts, Elgore collapsed to his knees. Only then could he see clearly at the same eye level as Elliot.

“Let me ask you one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Elgore wore a warm smile.

It was clear to anyone that he felt satisfied.

Laughing slightly, he waved his hand.

“Don’t say that. There won’t be another rival like you.”

“…Then it’s settled.”

“The duel is my victory.”

“Ugh. I don’t want to admit it, but if little brother won, it’s only fair to comply.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if the demons would take advantage of my unconscious state, but that seemed unlikely.

Before I knew it, a golden sanctuary encircled us entirely.

It was Ophelia’s work.

By the way, her face was…

“…Not good.”

It was completely contorted, looking more like a monstrous apparition than a person.

Hence, the wrath she could unleash right before me seemed more terrifying than that of Elgore.

Whether or not he sensed my concerns, the fool Elgore said with a face that bore a sense of tragic beauty.

“To die on the battlefield, that’s a true warrior’s death.”

“…”

Black Water Elgore.

The high-ranking officers of the Demon King’s Army were all scum, heartless demons, but—

“Yeah. You were a warrior.”

Even considering his brutality, Black Water Elgore was undeniably somewhat endearing.

I paid my respect to him, and Elgore continued.

“Central City.”

“Yeah?”

“Under the Lord’s mansion, I had stored all the wealth I’ve gathered. Since you won, all those treasures belong to you.”

“…Is it okay to tell me that?”

“It’s you who embodies the philosophy of ‘the winner takes all’.”

“Wow.”

I felt a bit sheepish and wanted to scratch my cheek, but my fingers were bent, so even that was impossible.

So I could only add a word.

“You’re not the type to get called a bad guy, you know.”

“I’ll take that as praise.”

After that, I could no longer sense any signs of life from Elgore.

He remained kneeling, his head bowed low.

Was it truly Elgore-like not to have fallen until his dying moment?

Was it foolish, or was he just plain dumb?

“…Rest in peace.”

It’s best to leave it at that.

“Brother.”

At the same time.

“What do you mean brother, you idiot!”

Ophelia’s shriek echoed.

I chose to evade her rather than confront her.

I just fainted.