Chapter 303
Chapter 303
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 303
Chapter Title: Chapter 7. Land of Blazing Heat
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"Enemy?"
Judah looked down at the angels and spoke in a dumbfounded tone. They were clad head to toe in pristine white robes, as if they had just descended from the heavens to the land of blazing heat, and they hovered in the air, flapping a single pair of wings.
Unaware of Judah's group atop the dragon head, they fearlessly drew their swords and spread their wings wide. Despite having only a single pair of wings, they exuded such confidence as they unleashed their divine power.
" ...?"
In that moment, the divine power emanating from their wings felt familiar yet repulsive. Judah gave a wry smile. He didn't need to ponder long where he had sensed such power before.
The First Holy King, Metatron.
And it was strikingly similar to the divine power once emitted by Metatron's apostle, Organ.
Of course, even angels suffered in the sweltering heat of this land of blazing heat, so it made no sense for mere low-rank angels to wander around unscathed. It was possible only because they were Metatron's kin.
Metatron's primary authority was fire; those who became his kin or received his blessing gained resistance to fire attributes. Angels didn't need food for sustenance as long as they had sufficient mana, so with heat resistance alone, dwelling in this desert posed no particular issue.
But what irked Judah more was the fact that he was tangled up with Metatron yet again.
"Hoo—"
He let out a sigh.
In the game, Metatron's kin—from low to high-rank angels—had appeared in the mortal realm. Metatron, alongside Gabriel, had sought to aid Cain, providing assistance through his angels rather than direct intervention.
To obtain the fourth fragment, [Sword Ark Gal], one had to venture to the land of death at the edge of the second continent, and even then, aid from an archangel had been received en route.
The problem was that the angels' appearance in the mortal realm had come far earlier than expected. Back in the Iron Labyrinth, when Metatron had gazed at Sian and said, "This is going to get interesting," it was probably referring to this.
The heavens dispatching angels to the mortal realm in earnest to reclaim the fragments.
That might have been what he meant. In any case, Sian didn't seem inclined to interfere as long as the Holy Kings stayed out of it.
The angels ascended above their heads with clear hostility. As they did, the dragon head thrust forward to snatch one mid-flight, but Judah noticed and immediately said,
"Don't."
The dragon head halted at once. It let out a dissatisfied growl, as if unable to comprehend why it was being stopped. Judah could feel it gulping saliva from above. Had this thing been eating angels all this time?
The sudden realization felt all too plausible. In any event, the angels now overhead swept their hands along the blades of their drawn swords, igniting flames upon them.
Holy Fire.
One of the techniques angels commonly employed, it dealt two or three times the damage to evil-aligned targets. Regardless of whether the target was evil or holy, it burned and seared flesh, making it brutally effective against any living being. The blazing swords looked profoundly sacred.
"Sacred, my ass."
Judah unfastened his seatbelt, stood up, and muttered. Just as he reached for his weapon to fight the angels, Arhil stepped forward first. Perhaps to reveal her identity to them, she unleashed her divine power. A warm, enveloping divine energy flowed from her body.
"Wait! We're not enemies!"
"A priestess?"
The angels looked bewildered. The ferocious mana emanating from the dragon head was unmistakably that of a demon beast from the demon realm, yet atop it sat a priestess wielding divine power—small wonder they were stunned. They had assumed Judah's group were demons or fallen ones aligned with them.
"This divine power... one of Lady Gabriel's priestesses? With mana this dense, she must be a high priestess or saintess."
"Why is she riding a demon beast?"
The angels conferred, still gripping their flaming swords, faces uneasy. But one shook his head and bellowed in a resounding voice,
"We have descended to the mortal realm by order of the Archangel. To purify all wicked beings in the land of blazing heat!"
"......"
"No words from one who consorts with the wicked hold weight or merit! To us, demon realm entities are targets for purification. You don't appear captive... so we shall unleash purifying flames upon you."
What the hell is this guy saying?
Judah frowned at the angel's dogged drivel. It boiled down to: you're with evil, so you deserve to die. The angel menacingly swung his flame-wreathed sword, trailing fire through the air.
Metatron's angels were hopeless to deal with—unless they were allies, that is. Had they been Gabriel's or Yophiel's kin, they wouldn't spout such rigid nonsense. At least those weren't so extreme.
As allies, they were valiant soldiers blindly loyal to higher angels, but as foes, they were just frustrating. Judah couldn't fathom how closely these angels mirrored their game personalities.
Clad in white robes, backs to the sun, their expressions were hard to discern amid the glare. They paused briefly, then raised their swords in attack formation.
"Ah...!"
Arhil, watching, let out a regretful sigh. She clearly hadn't anticipated fighting angels. Then again, the common image of angels aligned more with Yophiel's kin. No one expected them to say, "You're with a demon, so we'll purify you first and sort it out later."
Seeing the angels descend with wingbeats, Arhil cast a blessing on Judah as combat seemed imminent. To Judah, Arhil felt far more angelic than those white-winged fools.
"I'll toss you some food, so stay put and behave. Don't go lunging and knocking people off your head."
With Arhil having unfastened her belt and standing, Judah cautioned extra firmly. He then summoned Artemia and hurled her at the angel who had spouted the most nonsense first. Mercenary-style left-hand dagger arts was among Judah's lowest-grade skills, but its accuracy correction alone made it satisfying.
*Shick!* Artemia sliced through the air and pierced the angel's forehead.
*Thwack!*
The dagger embedded, jerking the angel's head back as he plummeted like a fly. Spotting it, the dragon head opened wide and extended three long tongues. Like a frog snaring a fly, the tongues coiled around the angel and yanked him into its maw.
"Don't chew—just hold it."
The dragon head, baring its double rows of teeth to savor the morsel, huffed in annoyance at Judah's stern command and could only savor the taste like melting candy. Judah then flung Artemia at the approaching angels in interception.
None could dodge or deflect her—not a single one. They were truly low-rank angels in every sense. One nearing Judah via comrades' sacrifices got snagged by a flick of the dragon head's tongue and sucked into its mouth. A live angel entering its maw for the first time—it shrieked so loudly inside that the dragon head lightly clenched its teeth. A *crunch* echoed from below, and the cries ceased.
The angels vanished from sight in an instant, all crammed into the dragon head's mouth. Judah reseated the dejected Arhil and turned his gaze to where the Nors and raptors clashed. One Nol proficient with swords held his own even against the raptors.
They were surely descendants of those once under Draconian rule, nomadic tribes dwelling in this land of blazing heat.
'Should I help?'
No real gain in aiding them. Yet Judah couldn't just pass by, so he directed the dragon head toward them.
The raptors hunting the Nors fled the moment they spotted it approaching. But the Nors lacked the raptors' speed, so they simply stood frozen, staring at the oncoming dragon head.
Though they aimed sharp blades at it, they knew their weapons couldn't pierce its hide. Judah strode across the dragon head, tapping its snout, and leaped down before them.
*Grrrrowl—*
A wary growl rumbled, but they refrained from swinging wildly. As Iris, Arhil, and Lime followed Judah's leap, the dragon head promptly crunched and devoured the angels in its mouth. A profoundly threatening sight to the Nors.
One Nol stepped forward, doffing his robe. He sported long white mustaches.
"What do you intend for us?"
He spoke the human tongue fluently, as if native. Judah's group watched with keen interest. Monsters elsewhere rarely spoke human languages so fluidly—just simple words at best. Judah shrugged at the Nol.
"Who knows. No real plans. Just saw you struggling against the raptors and figured I'd lend a hand."
"...Mm, then we thank you for your aid. But regrettably, we nomads possess nothing to repay you with... Hard to share what little we have."
Fearing an exorbitant demand, the elder Nol preemptively shut it down. Judah had no expectations or intentions to squeeze them anyway. He waved his palm side to side reassuringly.
"No worries. Just one thing I'd like to ask."
"Ask?"