Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: The Viper's Revival
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Sunlight streamed down into the pure white space with its ceiling pierced open.
In the center of the space stood an altar from which golden energy bubbled up like a spring.
A middle-aged man descended from the altar, stepping on the red carpet.
"The Saintess has betrayed us."
The ruler of the Holy Kingdom, Vesper I.
He was the man known to the world as the Holy King.
As the Holy King stepped down from the altar, the scribe glided to his side.
"Your Holiness. What shall we do with that woman?"
"This is not a matter to discuss in the Hall of Oracles. Let us leave first."
The Holy King exited the pure white space with the scribe.
Upon opening the exit, two young children stood by the door, offering something to the Holy King.
One child held a golden tray filled with water, the other two pure white towels embroidered with golden thread.
The Holy King dipped one towel in the water from the tray to wipe away his cold sweat, then used the remaining towel to dry himself.
He tossed the towels into an oil fire and patted the two children's heads.
"So you two are this year's chosen heroes?"
"Hic!"
"Yes, Your Holiness!"
One child averted their gaze with a hiccup, while the other replied in a clear voice.
The Holy King bestowed a blessing upon the children's heads and hurried toward his palace with the scribe.
"Did you record the oracle accurately?"
"Not a single syllable was missed."
"Good."
The Holy King checked the record the scribe handed him.
The Holy King's brows furrowed as he examined the record.
"This prophecy is rather cryptic."
"What does it mean?"
"Even I do not fully understand."
He rerolled the scroll and handed it back to the scribe.
"Entrust it to the codebreakers. By the way, how is your tongue faring?"
The Holy King recalled how the scribe's tongue had dragged all the way to the floor in front of the Twelve Overlords.
The scribe gave an awkward smile in response.
"The curse lingers, so I must still be careful not to let it... slur..."
The scribe nearly let his tongue flop out mid-sentence.
The Holy King cast a sympathetic glance at the scribe as he gathered his tongue.
"You may rest longer if needed."
"No, Your Holiness. I wish to contribute to the paradise you will create."
"I am grateful every time, for joining my cause."
The Holy King halted his steps toward the palace and gazed toward the city.
The capital of faith, filled entirely with pure white buildings.
The sound of people's laughter reached the Holy King's ears from there.
Closing his eyes to listen to their voices, the Holy King murmured.
"As you know, my ears have been unusually gifted since childhood."
"Indeed, Vesper."
For a moment, the two spoke not as Holy King and scribe, but as friends.
"The dead, animals, even flowers conversed without knowing I could hear them. It would not be an exaggeration to say this talent alone brought me to my current realm. They whispered enlightenments to me."
The Holy King knelt and caressed a flower blooming from a crack in the stone.
The scribe watched him silently.
The pure youth who once struggled to kill even a single flower or small animal had become a man who could pile hundreds of corpses with a mere gesture, his expression unchanging.
Caressing the wildflower, the Holy King continued.
"Listening to countless voices, I realized something. This harsh world needs perfect justice. Not justice swayed by one individual's emotions, but justice decided by the voices of the many. Yes, something like justice forged from faith."
And so he created a religion.
A faith worshiping the heavens, born from imperial culture.
It perfectly matched the demands of other kingdoms, making the Holy Kingdom the most influential religious state on the continent.
But...
"This faith is still a castle built on sand. As long as the Twelve Overlords remain, the justice forged by our faith will crumble easily."
The Holy King snapped the flower's stem.
-!!!!
The flower's scream rang in his ears, but the Holy King's face showed no change.
"To protect this justice, we must endure any sacrifice. Even if that path leads to apostleship."
The Holy King rose to his feet.
"Those who do not share our cause must be executed without mercy. Has the Knight Commander of Swiftness joined the Saintess?"
"He is still en route to the kingdom."
"Change his orders. Execute the traitor, along with the heretics."
Conveniently, neither the Saintess nor the witch was in the Holy Kingdom.
There would be no issues arising from their deaths.
Thus, the fates of the Saintess and the witch were lightly decided.
"And prepare for war."
"Yes, Your Holiness."
The scribe glided away from the Holy King.
Leaves rained down over the scribe's head, and soon his body blended with them and vanished.
The Holy King tossed the broken flower petal to the ground and murmured.
"The sun and the moon..."
The Dragon Vein never whispered lies or meaningless words.
It conveyed the most important and urgent messages.
But this oracle felt off.
'The Dragon Vein was wailing.'
It was unprecedented.
The entity that always impassively relayed memories was trembling in sorrow and fear.
The Holy King gazed beneath the earth.
"Dragon Vein. What exactly did you witness?"
No answer came.
Vesper looked to the silent sky instead and murmured.
"Heavens. Why did you whisper those words to me?"
Vesper I recalled the day the Empire fell.
He had prepared for decades to establish a new religion in the Empire.
He sought to overthrow the nation through protests, not violence.
But on the day of action, thirteen Reverse Heavenly Stars suddenly appeared and toppled the Empire.
Decades of effort rendered meaningless, Vesper had despaired.
Then, for the first time, the heavens broke their silence to him.
-The golden throne crumbles, and a new order begins.
Hearing that, the Holy King rose again.
And like the other Twelve Overlords, he built a nation reflecting his ideals.
But the heavens had not spoken once since that day.
"Heavens. What was the order you spoke of?"
Feeling resentment toward the silent earth and sky, the Holy King shook his head and headed back to his palace.
Vowing that one day, he would hear the answer himself.
The scene shifted to the Kingdom of Providence.
The Foreign Minister offered counsel to the king regarding the incident.
"Your Majesty. This attack using the Dragon Vein is blatant hostility. We must protest to the Holy Kingdom immediately..."
From beyond the black curtain, where the king's face was hidden, words appeared.
The officials' faces darkened at Rex's statement.
As expected from Rex's close aides, no one else in the room would welcome talk of war.
Rex immediately devised a strategy.
"Yes. Among the paladins escorting her, those who resisted were executed, and those who surrendered were detained. The Saintess and the other attendants are currently confined to the embassy."
Of course, they knew for certain that the Saintess and Rosalyn were firmly on the kingdom's side.
But state affairs could not be run on sentiment alone.
Especially now, they had to follow procedure to avoid any backlash.
"The Holy King will target the Saintess."
Rex had heard about Grace and Rosalyn's origins.
The moment their lives were threatened, strategic weapons would activate in the capital.
The tower embodying a nation's merits and sins held commensurate power.
"Who shall we assign?"
At that moment, Duke quietly raised his hand.
"I recommend Jane as Rosalyn's escort."
At Duke's suggestion, Rex quickly recalled the elf knight.
Not yet hero-grade, but a knight who had blossomed under Duke's direct tutelage.
After some thought, Rex appointed Jane as Rosalyn's escort.
"She is the most reliable escort within my knowledge."
For reference, the Third Company Commander could not be used as an escort.
The dark elf commander excelled at demolition but not protection,
the bloodkin could induce mental breakdowns in those with weak stomachs due to their abilities,
and the sloth returner might freeze their charge along with the target.
They were all better suited as spears than shields.
'Come to think of it, aren't these the royal shields?'
Duke had that thought for a moment but quickly dismissed it.
It was too late to point it out now.
While Duke pondered, Rex continued the meeting.
*
After the war discussion concluded, most officials departed.
The guards followed the officials out of the audience chamber.
Soon, only the true upper echelon of the kingdom remained in the chamber.
Peter, Duke, Ari, Sneria.
All were Rex's direct vassals bound by blood oaths.
Rex began the real meeting with his vassals.
"Is it true the Holy Kingdom is trying to revive Opfir?"
"Yes. The Saintess says she can explain."
As Duke answered, a small door used for informal audiences opened.
Beyond it stood Saintess Grace and the Nun of the Moon, Rosalyn.
"Greetings, Your Majesty?"
"Ah... hello, Your Majesty."
Grace bowed gracefully, while Rosalyn fidgeted beside her sister and greeted shyly.
Peter's lips curving upward at the sight of Rosalyn was hardly noteworthy,
and Grace, with permission, began explaining the Holy Kingdom's plans.
"The Holy Kingdom possesses a soul awakening ritual called [Angel's Blessing]. You've likely heard the saying that people experience a life-flashing-before-their-eyes revelation just before death. This blessing is a secret art for realm advancement inspired by that principle."
Ari and Rex grimaced at Grace's explanation.
"From the Empire too?"
"Yes, an imperial method."
Grace answered calmly.
Peter, Duke, and Sneria—who had lived in that era—nodded quietly as well.
The Saintess continued.
"Angel's Blessing is divided into nine ranks. Higher ranks preserve more memories upon revival."
"Then those revived in the kingdom last time..."
"Angels. The lowest ninth rank. They retain only one-tenth of their past life's memories."
Thus, ninth-rank Angels obsessively clung to memories from just before death.
"Of course, this blessing isn't applied to just any deceased person."
Grace pointed to herself and her sister.
"I received the third-rank Ophanim blessing, and Rosalyn the second-rank Cherubim blessing."
Rex's eyes widened at the introduction.
"Higher than the Saintess."
"That's right~ My proud little sister~ Our Rosalyn will one day surpass me as an even greater Saintess~"
The Saintess abandoned her dignity to hug Rosalyn.
Realizing they were in a meeting, she returned to the chalkboard.
"Ahem. The extent of memories returned depends on the rank when applied to the dead. For the living, it determines the degree of soul awakening."
In other words, the revived dead could not grow stronger than before death, but the living could become far more powerful.
Ari raised a question at the Saintess's explanation.
"Has the entire Holy Kingdom become angels, then?"
The Saintess shook her head.
"Blessings aren't that simple. As I said, the principle is the life-flashing vision before death."
"No way..."
"The blessing is awakened through torture equivalent to death. Higher ranks mean greater pain. If one's mental fortitude can't endure, they become broken before completing it."
Rex instinctively checked the sisters' information at the explanation.
'Their high mental power let them endure.'
This also explained why Rosalyn endured a higher blessing than Grace.
While Rex reflected on this, the Saintess continued.
"Allow me to explain the additional traits of the nine angelic ranks. First, Angels gain bizarre regenerative powers. Next, Archangels..."
Rex took notes in his interface while comparing to Ari's stats.
'As the Saintess said, her combat prowess is quite low. Rosalyn is lower than Ari too...'
Suddenly recalling Ari had been "upgraded" by Duke and Peter,
'No. Grace aside, Rosalyn's are normal! My senses are off because of Duke...'
Like magic stats, base stats recorded high in specialties akin to levels, lower elsewhere.
Mages had relatively low martial force, warriors low intellect.
Rex felt fear at his fading common sense as he finished evaluating Rosalyn.
'An utterly average mage. Makes one wonder if fifth-rank is average.'
She was a standard fifth-rank mage, regardless.
As Rex privately assessed Rosalyn, the Saintess's explanation neared its end.
"The final first rank is Seraphim. The most powerful soul awakening, retrieving nine-tenths of past memories. It's the blessing the Holy King intends for Opfir."
"Mm. I see."
The room nodded at the conclusion.
Irked by the lukewarm response, Grace raised her voice.
"Opfir! That monster! The serpent that devours the land! The most vicious and powerful tyrant among the Thirteen Overlords! Don't you realize what happens if he revives with nine-tenths memories plus the blessing's special abilities?"
"S-Sis... calm down..."
Rosalyn hugged Grace to soothe her.
Sniff sniff—
Grace regained her composure from Rosalyn's scalp scent.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. After witnessing Elder Peter's might recently, I may have overreacted."
"No... I mean, ahem. No matter. I would have reacted the same in your place."
If they had learned right after Peter's mini-nuke breath that the Holy Kingdom sought to revive the far worse Opfir,
Rex was certain he would have defended that grave with all his power.
Not just Rex—Peter, Sneria, and Ari too.
But Grace was unaware of one fact.
"Uh... um... allow me to introduce. This is Duke Awik."
"Your Majesty? What brings this up suddenly?"
"The man once called Opfir."
"Your Majesty, this is no time for jokes..."
Duke silently raised his presence before the Saintess.
As it surpassed nine and exuded a horrifying aura, Grace and Rosalyn froze in place.
In their childhood, right after becoming twins, when the Holy Kingdom had dared provoke the Overlords.
Back then, the twins could face one Overlord.
-"Oh my, such cute children wandering beyond the fence. Their shepherd is quite neglectful."
A woman who stroked the two children with a saccharine voice.
Even enduring the revulsion had been a struggle.
Her visible karma, presence, everything rejected comprehension.
Unerasble doom.
An overwhelming pressure that made even despair feel acceptable.
The aura from Duke now was of that ilk.
Yet slightly different.
Heart pounding, mind blank with terror,
an emotion that should be called fear...
'Why does it feel welcoming?'
As if she welcomed ruin herself.
While Grace puzzled over her feelings, Duke sighed and lowered his presence.
"An embarrassing past."
"No, that... Your Excellency..."
"Worry not. I take no offense to your words. But first, wake your sister."
"Pardon?"
Grace then noticed Rosalyn's state.
Foaming at the mouth, fainted upright.
Grace panicked and administered first aid.
"Wh-what? Rosalyn! Rosa! It's your sister! Snap out of it!"
Finally calming her own racing heart from moments ago.