Chapter 277
Chapter 277
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 277
Chapter Title: Iril (3)
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"Well, well. Did she do it again?"
Abel clicked his tongue as he opened the door. He'd caught a whiff of blood from down the hall, and sure enough, there it was. The room prepared for Iril had turned into a hellscape straight out of a nightmare.
"Quite the spectacle."
The guards and attendants meant to watch over her had all been torn to shreds, their blood and guts decorating the room. Even the finest furniture and clothes they'd painstakingly provided were now ruined, soaked in blood.
Iril knelt in the center of the room, sleeping soundly. Her hair and skin were so pale that the blood staining her stood out all the more vividly. In her slender hand, she clutched a small fruit knife.
Aside from her, there was only one survivor. Bishop Olivia, ordered to tend to Iril alongside Archbishop Letansie. She huddled in a corner, sobbing as she stared at her severed wrists. Abel spoke.
"You did well, Olivia."
"Ugh... Uuugh, Your Holiness...!"
Olivia staggered to her feet. The wounds weren't limited to her severed wrists. The gashes carved across her body were all deep enough to reach bone.
Iril had taken out everyone in the room in mere seconds while unconscious, then turned herself into a cripple. A resentful voice leaked from her parted lips.
"Th-that thing is a monster. Impossible to control... What in the world do you plan to use it for...?"
"Calling someone else's niece a monster? That's a bit much."
"We have to kill her. If we let her live, she'll become the Church's enemy for sure. Right?"
Abel didn't answer. He'd certainly said he would make Iril a saint of the Church, but the crippled Olivia had no room to recall such things. Abel continued.
"If anything, she's just a normal little girl as long as she doesn't lose consciousness. Honestly, this is probably your failure. You pushed her too hard with some task, she passed out, and this mess happened. Isn't that right?"
"I-I didn't really do anything..."
"Then what's that handprint on my niece's neck? Hm?"
Abel murmured coldly. Olivia's face stiffened. Just as he said, clear strangulation marks ringed Iril's neck.
"P-please forgive me. She struggled so much..."
Olivia belatedly admitted her fault and tried to make excuses. A red line slashed across her neck, and her head tumbled off. Blood erupted from the stump, splattering Abel's face.
"Hoo... Just a little longer, and why won't any of you listen?"
Abel sighed. He shook the blood from his blade and sheathed it. Things seemed grueling, separate from the final act's story progressing steadily.
"Kehk, kuh!"
"Mm, awake now?"
A violent coughing fit erupted from behind. Abel turned. Iril, just roused from sleep, clutched her throat and hacked.
"Cough, cough... Th-this!"
"Your handiwork. Blood doesn't lie, after all."
Iril looked around wildly and gasped. She hadn't realized she'd committed the massacre. Far from scolding her, Abel smiled warmly.
"I'll call the physician right away. Don't let yourself get cold—wash up and change first. We'll have a new room ready soon, so no worries."
"I-I don't want to talk to you people... Just send me back."
Iril said in a trembling voice. She was at her limit now. She needed nothing else—just to be with her brother. Tears streamed down her face as she murmured unwittingly.
"Ronan..."
"Of course we'll send you back. Once the work is done. Don't be like that—hear me out, Iril. The world is coming to its end soon, anyway."
Suddenly, Abel began stroking Iril's hair. His touch was cautious, like handling a precious treasure.
"Normally, everyone would meet death in terror and despair. But with you, it's different. You're the only one who can grant them a peaceful passing. Won't you embrace the world with that kindness you've shown your brother and those around you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about..."
Iril slowly shook her head. She could never understand a word he said. Ignoring that, Abel pressed on.
"You can do it. With your power. The item to complete you as a saint is finished."
"...Huh?"
Iril tilted her head. Snap! Abel flicked his fingers, and the closed door swung open. Archbishop Letansie entered demurely.
"What’s that...?"
Iril's eyes widened. Letansie carried a luxurious cushion. Atop it sat a small tiara, radiating brilliant light.
The jewels embedded in it sparkled with a cool white glow like starlight in the night sky. It was beautiful, but it didn't give a good feeling.
****
"So the Savior's location wasn't compromised. Just bad luck, then."
"Yes. A blessing in disguise. With a bishop-level figure dead, it looks like the Church sent investigators."
Elsia nodded. The two were catching up on backlog while waiting. The current topic was why Archbishop Pasagard had suddenly marched to the Sea of Ghosts.
'Pathetic to the end. Damn cat.'
Ronan clicked his tongue in disgust. The pursuit led by the archbishop had been dispatched to investigate Barca's messenger. If Elsia hadn't intercepted quickly or had lost, the Savior would surely have been killed.
"...It seems to be wrapping up."
Elsia murmured, gazing at the snowfield. The chaos from the archbishop's raid was settling quickly.
The surviving Nebula Klazie's followers were being picked off one by one by Elsia. Miserable screams echoed sporadically.
"Argh! Mercy!"
"E-Elsia, please have mercy... Guh!"
There were so many spirits that Ronan didn't need to step in. Spirits manifested in ice forms mercilessly tore apart the begging or fleeing followers.
'She's no ordinary woman.'
Elsia's face showed no change amid the carnage. Unlike her delicate appearance, she showed no mercy—befitting a former Nebula Klazie executive. Sita circled the air, absorbing scattered blood.
"Puhaha!"
Sita laughed, belly full and pleased. Blood droplets kept forming, so it would take time. Elsia spoke, eyeing Sita.
"A Dream Bird. You keep rare company."
"Eh, just happened that way."
Ronan nodded. Come to think of it, it had been ages since he'd heard "Dream Bird."
"Unique looks and abilities. What of its parents?"
"No idea. The one who laid it was Marfez, a tiny furball, but she wasn't like this monster."
Ronan shrugged. Three years since meeting Sita, her origins remained veiled.
The supreme illusory species born from surroundings' influence. Baren had researched Dream Birds until recently but never uncovered the secret.
'Curious, though.'
Ronan smacked his lips. Worth investigating next chance. Then, an ice golem repairing waved at them.
"Grooo!"
"Ah. Looks done."
The shattered floor was restored flawlessly. Possible only for an elemental spirit user like her. Elsia pointed to the makeshift entrance.
"Let's go in. Time's short."
Elsia hurried ahead. Ronan followed silently.
The deliberate narrow passage sealed as they entered the ruins. Descending steep stairs, Elsia spoke.
"How'd you enter the ruins? Broke that entrance too?"
"Nah. Just punched in the code."
"...The 24-digit one?"
"Yeah. Not bragging, but I peeked last time you entered it."
Ronan scratched his head sheepishly. Elsia froze. Wasn't the code the issue here?
"...I see. Glad you came before it got worse. The Savior's condition has deteriorated lately."
"What?"
"He might not last a month like this. You're a godsend..."
Sadness and relief mingled in Elsia's voice. She explained the Savior's worsening state over the past month.
She'd lost to Pasagard—normally winnable—due to nonstop travel for his treatment. Ronan asked.
"Why so sudden?"
"Probably Abel growing stronger. For an old wound from a millennium ago to worsen this much... It's dangerous."
"Can we save the Savior?"
"If this is truly Abel's blood."
Elsia nodded. Amid complex emotions, her eyes held conviction. They soon reached the Savior's chamber. Hiss... The iron door parted.
"...Damn."
Ronan cursed upon seeing the Savior. He remained trapped in the glass tube. As Elsia said, the chest wound had visibly worsened. The spreading stain from it now covered his entire upper body.
He looked dead, honestly. Bubbles from nose and mouth confirmed he breathed. Elsia, in white robes, activated devices.
"Let's begin."
She wasted no second. For the Savior, or considering Ronan's captured sister? Ronan nodded at her resolute face.
"I trust you."
Elsia took a deep breath and started treatment. As Ronan expected, much like before. Abel's blood and her drug flowed via tubes into the Savior.
"Please..."
Elsia bit her lip. Ronan clenched his fist, glancing again. Wake up already, old man. Your daughter's been taken.
The last drop entered. His closed eyelids twitched, revealing sunset-hued eyes. Elsia stepped back hesitantly.
"S-Savior... Can you hear me?"
Her slim shoulders shook. She asked in a quavering voice, eyes brimming.
No reply yet. Ronan gritted his teeth to suppress emotion. Same as last time so far. As Elsia tried speaking again, the Savior's lips—seemingly forever sealed—parted slowly.
"I don't know... what to say."
"Ahh...!"
Elsia's eyes widened. Tears cascaded. Ronan rushed, catching her as her legs buckled.
"Damn, you okay?"
"I-I... I...!"
Elsia sobbed. Ronan hadn't known she could show such varied expressions. His gaze stayed on the Savior even as he supported her. Suddenly meeting Ronan's eyes, the Savior continued.
"It's been a while... my son."
Ronan's body stiffened at the words. His mind went blank, like struck by lightning. What to say now? After agonizing, Ronan bowed his head.
"...Hello, sir."