Chapter 642

You can’t figure out who the culprit is?

If you kill everyone over thirty, the culprit will be among them.

Even Orhan couldn’t help but be shocked by this utterly insane idea.

“Are you out of your mind…? If you do something like that, everyone in the grasslands will become your enemy!”

“When haven’t they been?”

Hersela tilted the corner of her mouth and sneered. The idea that everyone in the grasslands would become her enemy? To her, it sounded like nonsense.

Though it wasn’t something she had done herself, ever since she wielded Flame Sorcery to slaughter Amin and the White Armies, the warrior known as Ha-shal-leur had already become the public enemy of the grasslands.

And if she could just cut down Orhan here, she might be remembered forever as the legendary traitor who betrayed her country and brought ruin to the Great Plains.

[No, what kind of crazy talk is this?]

It wasn’t just Orhan who was shocked.

Ha Sung-hwa, who was listening to the conversation between Hersela and Orhan in her mind, was also stunned by the extreme statement that reminded her of a mustachioed uncle from her hometown.

[You’re going to kill everyone over thirty? Have you lost your mind?]

Though Ha Sung-hwa had killed people by the thousands to the point where she couldn’t even remember the number, she still strictly distinguished between those who could be killed and those who shouldn’t be based on two criteria.

They must be enemy soldiers.

Or they must be criminals who have committed crimes.

As long as they fell into one of these categories, Ha Sung-hwa considered them “killable.” Since arriving in this world, the category of “enemy” had expanded to include all races hostile to humans, but still.

Therefore, Ha Sung-hwa was originally in favor of killing the warriors of Ka`har. Slaughtering an enemy army, especially one of plunderers who committed massacres and rape for no necessary purpose, didn’t weigh on her conscience or evoke any sense of guilt.

This mindset was most clearly revealed when he led a special forces unit of two hundred to annihilate a Ka`har settlement. At the time, Ha Sung-hwa killed most of the men in the village. Everyone except the elderly and women, without hesitation.

To Ha Sung-hwa, the adult men of Ka`har were all potential soldiers and plunderers of the grasslands, and eliminating them was no different from stomping on pests.

However, since the elderly and women were neither soldiers nor criminals by his standards, Ha Sung-hwa let them go unharmed, allowing them to leave for Ordos. According to his own principles.

Of course, if they were to pick up weapons out of hatred for the deaths of their husbands and fathers, Ha Sung-hwa would have considered them “enemy soldiers” and killed them as well.

Killing enemy soldiers and criminals is right, and killing civilians is evil. But if civilians pick up weapons, they become soldiers and must be killed.

That was Ha Sung-hwa’s philosophy.

Though it was a deceptive and contradictory ideology that ignored the fact that civilians might pick up weapons out of hatred for him, Ha Sung-hwa harbored no doubts about his own mindset.

The education he received in the Republic of Korea and years of war experience had molded him into such a being.

In any case, by Ha Sung-hwa’s standards, Hersela’s statement about killing all Ka`har over thirty was unacceptable.

If she had said she would kill all the grassland soldiers over thirty, it might have been somewhat acceptable.

Hersela also expected her inner companion to say as much. Having lived together for nearly a year, it was more than enough time to understand the other’s ideology.

‘Why are you so shocked? That was just an extreme metaphor for the situation.’

So, Hersela offered an explanation that she thought would convince “Ha-shal-leur.” Though she didn’t have time for a lengthy explanation, she summarized it briefly.

[So, it’s an exaggeration?]

‘Of course.’

The statement about killing all grassland people over thirty was merely a declaration to show the depth of her hatred. Hersela had no real intention of indiscriminately slaughtering them all.

In her mind, by torturing and killing those most likely to be the culprit first, she could find the culprit before things escalated to that point.

‘Do you really think I want to kill all those people?’

[Guess not. Surprising.]

Hersela truly had no desire to slaughter all the adult men of the grasslands. Honestly.

Unlike Ha Sung-hwa, who was relieved to see that Hersela still had some humanity, Hersela’s reluctance stemmed from the utterly inhuman reason that killing them all would require an absurd amount of time and effort.

‘Surprising? How rude. What do you take me for? Piling up the corpses of grassland people is far from my wish.’

Of course, Hersela only said she didn’t *want* to kill them, not that she *wouldn’t* kill them. That would have been a lie.

In an extreme situation—if she couldn’t find the culprit even after slaughtering all the likely suspects—the metaphor of killing all Ka`har over thirty would no longer remain a metaphor.

—

“Do you truly intend to turn everyone in the grasslands into your enemy and kill them all…?”

Orhan muttered in a dazed tone.

Unlike Ha Sung-hwa, Orhan had no way of knowing what conversation Hersela was having with the being in her mind. It was a natural reaction.

The overwhelming killing intent Hersela radiated, her combat prowess rivaling Orhan’s own, gave her words a terrifying sense of reality.

If anyone else had said such a thing, he would have dismissed it as the ramblings of a madman. Something utterly impossible, no matter how much time one spent trying.

But Hersela had the power to make the madman’s ramblings real, the forces to back her up, and the motivation and will to carry out a massacre without hesitation.

Then this was no longer madness—it was a prophecy.

For a moment, the image of the grasslands engulfed in flames flashed through Orhan’s mind.

‘I wanted to raise fangs that could tear apart all enemies… but to think they would grow into flames that would burn the entire grasslands.’

The daughter who had grown fueled by hatred had become a far more fearsome being than he had anticipated. To the point where he couldn’t decide whether to rejoice at her growth or be horrified by her extremeness.

It was hard to understand how she could remain so calm in the last battle while harboring such deep resentment.

The only thing he was certain of was this: if he were to die here, no one in the grasslands would be able to stop Ha-shal-leur, who would grow even stronger from his death.

‘…I can’t die here.’

Orhan realized. The moment he died, Ha-shal-leur would become a monster that would burn the grasslands to ash. That was an outcome he could never accept.

Though his direction had been severely misguided, he had wanted Ha-shal-leur to become strong enough to not be hurt by anyone—not to become a monster that would devour millions of lives without hesitation.

What father would wish for such a thing? Even if slaughter and conquest were the virtues of a warrior, there was still reason and order to such things.

Killing for power is justified.

Plundering for wealth is natural for a warrior.

Seeking revenge for family is praiseworthy.

Becoming a conqueror in pursuit of glory is the height of honor.

But slaughtering millions simply because “it’s easier this way”?

That was a monster, even by Ka`har’s standards.

And Orhan didn’t want to turn his daughter into a monster. So he spoke to Hersela again.

“…There’s no need for that. It was the sorcerers of the grasslands who killed your mother. Find their leader, the ‘Grand Sorcerer of White Valley.’ He is the true culprit you must take revenge on.”

To show her that there was no need to burn the entire grasslands—just find and destroy the direct culprit.

“A name of someone from who-knows-where. What meaning does some secretive name that no one reveals in public have?”

But it was meaningless.

Of course it was. Hersela had already guessed that Ai-mel-ra’s death was caused by sorcery, so saying the culprit was a sorcerer held no meaning now.

Any sorcerer of the grasslands would naturally hide their identity, making it nearly impossible to uncover their true nature with a title like “Grand Sorcerer of White Valley.”

‘Even this isn’t enough to convince her… Then at the very least, I must avoid losing my life here.’

Orhan sighed inwardly and began to gather his strength. His fading fighting spirit began to rise again despite the continuous mental shocks.

‘…But how?’

The problem was, even if he kept fighting, there was no way to escape this place. His strength was still draining away.

—

– Whoosh!

The flames, suppressed by the Life Force Technique, awoke as if from slumber and began to rise. Molten lava rained from the ceiling, and the lava pooling on the ground had already reached the knees of the two combatants.

Could increasing the heat drown them in lava? Such a ridiculous thought briefly crossed Ha-shal-leur’s mind.

– Swoosh.

What happened next was the fall of two Slaughter Swords from the sky.

Crimson Twin Blades.

Orhan’s beloved weapons, brought for this battle.

The weapons, buried in the collapse of the barrier, fell alongside the melted rock, glowing red as they were engulfed in lava.

One blade flew toward Hersela. The other toward Orhan. Both their gazes turned to the hilts of the Slaughter Swords.

In the next moment, both instinctively reached out and grabbed the crimson-scaled Slaughter Swords flying toward them.