Chapter 452
Chapter 452
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Another Solo Play (11)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
****
Paaang-!
An orb of light rises from the bishop's embrace, only for the scabbard in my right hand to swat it away. The dragon vein stone embedded in the scabbard repels the divine power with its clashing mana.
Buwaaak-!
A massive clump of flesh brushes past the tip of my nose. Stray droplets of sweat cling to its end and shatter into pieces.
Chwaaak!
I barely dodge the fleshy tendril and slice it apart with my sword.
『Raaaaah!!! Praisaaaaah! Aaaatuaaah!!!』
The "Pure Bodies," clustered together the size of temple pillars, scream in the only language they know.
'No easy fights, huh.'
The moment the bishop revealed his hostility, something utterly repulsive had formed.
"Come forth, children of faith! Even if you have shed your humanity, if you hold belief in the Goddess, she shall not abandon you!"
『R....raaa.... tuuu....』
『Mercaaaay.... praisaaaa....』
The "Pure Bodies" linked by divine power gathered toward the bishop and merged into a single form.
『Aaaah. Truly the hand of mercy....』
What emerged was the bishop wreathed in a holy halo, with five enormous tendrils extending from his body.
They resembled hands with very long fingers. Considering how the faithful of mercy called themselves "fingertips," it was easy to guess what the bishop—who wielded them from the center of those fingers—thought of himself.
'At this rate, I'll lose.'
Any brief pause invited a barrage of every holy spell a priest could cast: bindings, shields, smites. I'd knock them away with the scabbard embedded with the dragon vein stone, only for a terrifying whoosh to follow as a tendril made of Pure Body slammed into me and drove me back.
An attack pattern that forbade any approach. No critical hits on either side, but my side accumulated fatigue and wounds, while theirs healed and pressed on with self-generated holy power.
A prolonged battle against an enemy wielding divine power was utter madness.
"Bishop. Do you equate yourself with the Goddess of Mercy?"
So, after one exchange of blows created a rare opening, I spat words of rebuke instead of precious breaths.
"Where in that form is the mercy? Where is the salvation?"
『Everything!!!』
Kwaaaang!
One who strays into heresy through strong conviction must prove to themselves every hour, every second, that it is not misguided.
The hurled question provokes their convictions, and the fierce reaction manifests as a charging assault.
『We extend our hands to all, even accepting the most wretched! The soiling of our knees as we kneel for them is joy!』
『If the path before them is a bed of thorns, is it not the duty of the faithful to walk it? I shall bear the humiliation! No curse can block our mercy!』
Buwaak!
"That's your mercy? Turning the saints into those meat lumps!"
Three. I counted the tendrils blocking left and right and grazing overhead as I pulled a smoke bomb.
『Do not be swayed by appearances! Faith is unchanging! If one can pray, faith dwells within, and those with faith are brethren!』
Kwaaaang!
Four. Tendrils blocking all directions like a siege. A weakened mana bomb spewed coal dust.
『Have you not heard their praises too!!!』
And five. The final tendril thrusting toward me, sealing my retreat!
'Combat experience is sorely lacking, as expected!'
Whiiiish-!
The moment the red fleshy mass stabbed in like a spear tip, piercing the smoke, I charged forward instead and slid.
Chwaaak!
I slipped into the spot just in time—the floor cratered like a blast zone where the bishop's tendril crashed down. My stance completely crumbled from the evasion, but
'...that guy's defenses are wide open too!'
With the agitated bishop extending all his tendrils, the enemy's chest lay fully exposed.
Chwaaak!
『Ruuu-tuuaaaah-!!!!』
Slicing through the blocking tendril unleashes a scream of praise spilling from the cut.
Thung-!
The divine barrier shatters where the scabbard makes contact.
『No! Stop, unbeliever!』
The bishop retracts his five extended tendrils like clenching a fist.
『If not me, who will show them mercy—』
Shruk!
My sword cleaves from the bishop's shoulder across his chest in a diagonal slash.
Pbeok!
"Urk!"
A tendril arrives a beat late, smashing into my fully exposed back.
My innards shift to one side with the impact, and a solid wall slams into my body.
"Cough, cough, ugh...."
Blood got in my eyes; I could barely see.
Did I kill him? What happened to the bishop?
『....Receiving the hand of salvatioooon—』
『The mercy of the receiverrr—』
A strangely drawn-out hymn echoes in my blurry vision.
And then.
Kwaaaang-!
A deafening roar as the ceiling collapses, and a figure plummets down.
A mace glowing with holy light and dented armor. Gasping breaths.
"Is this.... the truth you tried so desperately to hide...!"
Paladin Fraulk had arrived in the underground temple, his body battered to hell.
Step. Sizzle—
Step. Sizzle—
"I.... I cannot die like this.... Brother, Brother Fraulk...."
And then. At the edge of my hazy vision.
The bishop, bisected diagonally, was crawling toward him.
****
"Ooooh, Fraulk.... brother.... Mercy has sent you...."
Something.
"Mercy.... to these fragile, pure souls, mercy...."
What in the world was happening beneath the sacred halls of the Goddess.
Fraulk froze in place amid the crumbling floor and rubble.
『The Goddess haaaas— taken us iiiin—』
『Aaaaratuuuuraaa— my life to Her wiiiill—』
It was a hymn praising the Goddess of Mercy.
"Phew- huuu- ratu- huuu- raaa—"
Its source was the countless cursed humans Fraulk had dreaded seeing most.
"Brother Fraulk...."
The bishop reaching out in his horrific form.
"Holy Knight...."
Knight Hyde collapsed, covered in blood.
'Is this a nightmare?'
The nightmare I had so feared had come to pass.
The mace stained with his brother's blood felt heavy enough to tear from his fingertips.
"I merely followed the words of mercy...."
The bishop's remaining arms—upper body only—embraced the meat lump before him. Holy light gathered at his severed torso.
"Cough, kuh.... As you know, it's an unstoppable tide.... Regardless of our efforts.... We all know the countless people of the capital must crumble like this...."
"So."
"Mercy extends a hand to any.... I merely extended mine to the saints in altered form.... Brother Fraulk. Recall the will of mercy.... These pitiful souls...."
"So."
"Kill that one.... the one who fails to understand mercy's will, and aid me.... The Goddess's will has not yet left me, nor shall I leave Her...."
"....Is that how it is."
So that's what happened.
Fraulk closed his eyes. Even with eyes shut, the eerie hymn and breaths reached him.
The immense holy power the temple emitted time and again over the past three years whenever curses invaded. The divine aura flowing from the praises of these mere meat lumps.
He was no fool.
Fraulk turned on his heel.
His twisted brother in faith looked up at him.
"Brother. Do you not understand my will?"
"If we had merely sought the Goddess's mercy, the temple, the brothers in faith, all the saints who gathered here to survive—they would have been torn apart by the cursed ones!"
"Bishop."
"Are we not the ones who walk the path of thorns first and foremost to save others? Even if we end as heretics tainted by curse and purified once all this is over, I had to do it! To save you and everyone! I had no choice but to borrow the hands of these 'pure' saints, changed in form alone—"
"Choose.... the prayer."
Kwaaak—
Cursed ones clung to the bishop's severed body.
Fraulk regripped his mace. The bishop's violet eyes met his blue ones.
"....Beware. Stains on white cloth show easily, but stains on soiled cloth go unseen."
"....Ratua. El-Samia."
Peurk!
"May the Goddess take you."
A heavy thud of rending flesh mingled amid the eerie hymn.
He pulled a handkerchief from his bosom and covered the bishop's crushed head.
Without releasing the mace in his grip, he approached the knight leaning against the wall.
"Fraulk...."
"....Rise."
Whoooong—
He gathered the lingering holy power nearby and cast a healing spell on the knight. The divine power made from these cursed ones' praises felt somehow warped.
And all the purer for it.
"There is a vessel before the altar for holy water. Take as much as you can."
"....Hey."
"With the bishop—the center of this misguided faith—gone, the holy power protecting this temple will soon fade. The imperial forces circling this area for three years will flood in like the tide."
"Surely the other holy knights too?"
"....Likely our faith was wanting. The curse twisted theirs. They knew all this and still cooperated in the bishop's deeds."
"Then—"
"Indeed. The Temple of Mercy ends here."
"....Because of me?"
"Partly."
And partly because he had dismissed the temple's bizarrely abundant holy power as mere miracle of the Goddess.
Fraulk calmly confessed that the foundation of his life and faith had crumbled.
His brothers, swayed by misguided faith, joined the bishop's mad acts, moving the living to the underground temple to corrupt them with curse. Since it was not their pure will but enchantment by curse, he bestowed "mercy" before they committed greater sins.
The temple's holy power and guardian brothers were gone. Curse's fog would seep into the God's abode, descending upon the countless saints above.
Fraulk regripped his mace.
"Go first. As quickly as possible."
"Hey."
"Knight Hyde thinks otherwise. And I have business with the Emperor too."
....Kwaaak.
"Just. Some 'mercy' remains to be bestowed."
Fraulk surveyed his surroundings as he spoke.
The cursed beings praising the Goddess and singing of mercy.
Hymns ceaselessly flowing between ragged breaths, and the innocent people left on the surface.
At the very least, Fraulk had retained enough reason not to join the bishop's madness. Was this not the Goddess's grace?
"Go. I shall follow soon."
"Fraulk."
"'Tis an act I would not show to outsiders. The way to the holy city, I have already shown you."
The man met his gaze for a moment, then painfully rose. Whatever he meant to say, he swallowed it unspoken. A man of many words, yet all the more aware of moments when words meant nothing.
Thud. Thud.
Hyde's footsteps faded toward the surface. Only countless living meat lumps remained at his side, filling the underground temple with their hymns.
How could this be. This. Was it not just like the nightmare that tormented him?
"Goddess. Mercy."
Fraulk regripped the mace he nearly dropped several times.
"Your foolish fingertips seek to walk the thorny path You have prepared."
Grace. Just as his brothers were swayed by curse before their wills twisted, facing his nightmare—was this not the Goddess leaving him mercy?
Thus, bless him.
"Ratua."
His trembling hand raised the mace.
"Ratua. El, Samia."
Peurk.
With grace. Goddess of Mercy, with grace.
Puk.
Peurk.
Plop.
Thuk—
Each swing silenced one voice in song.
The holy knight swung his mace without rest. Just as in his nightmare once, freeing all cursed ones from eternal grasp of curse.
Not only the saints below, but all the surface saints crumbling helplessly.
At some point, he screamed like a madman.
At some point, he no longer muttered prayers or trembled at the fingertips.
'To the capital.'
'I have spent all my mercy on these.'
'To the capital. Empty-handed, toward the Emperor.'
'Toward the root of all this.'
The scattered blood dyed the Goddess's abode red, and his prayers halted like the silenced hymns.
Thick curse fog gently settled upon the temple bereft of holy power.
That day, in the temple where the heavy mace swung endlessly, the lone remaining holy knight lost his mercy.
****
****