Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Clash of the Gods
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“Hero!”
It was Doruma.
He held a longsword in each hand. A dagger was gripped in his tail as well.
Empowered by Haste Sword, the bastard was incredibly fast.
He swung both swords in his hands simultaneously. A fierce surge of energy rushed toward Cheon-ho, and the monster charged right behind it.
Cheon-ho swung Mitra to shatter the energy wave.
As if he had been waiting for that exact moment, the enemy slithered along the ground and burrowed into Cheon-ho’s left flank. He unleashed a slash that was hard to dodge even seeing it coming.
Clang!
The strike was blocked.
It wasn’t Mitra. A shield of light extended from Cheon-ho’s left wrist.
Doruma’s eyes widened at the translucent blue shield. Cheon-ho glanced at Doruma and, instead of kindly explaining that it was a shield, swung his left arm. He shoved Doruma back while simultaneously swinging Mitra.
From above to below.
The powerful downward strike didn’t reach Doruma. But Cheon-ho didn’t mind. His real target had been the follow-up attack from the start.
His visible hand moved.
He hurled a knife at Doruma, who had already assumed an evasive stance to dodge the downward strike and was thus locked in place.
“Guh?!”
It embedded in his chest. The monster gritted his teeth and swallowed his pain, but Cheon-ho didn’t miss the opening. He pulled back Mitra while drawing his body in. He delivered a fierce push kick straight to the chest of Doruma, who was frantically rolling his eyes.
Four Guardian Kings Martial Arts.
Dhritarashtra’s Palm.
Mountain-Pushing Strike.
Boom!
With a massive roar, Doruma was hurled back. The blow was so powerful that he nearly dropped one of the swords in his hand.
“Lucille!”
Instead of watching Doruma tumble more than ten meters away, Cheon-ho shouted.
Lucille, who had been lost in shock until then, gasped and turned to Cheon-ho. Her face flushed red again.
But she quickly understood why Cheon-ho had called her. She spread her wings wide to take flight.
Cheon-ho moved swiftly. After sheathing Mitra at his waist, he scooped up the sword Doruma had dropped, then grabbed the carrier with his other hand.
“Let’s go!”
Lucille took off. Cheon-ho kicked off the ground. He heard Doruma yelling something from behind, but ignored it. He kicked past the still-sprawled Ratmen and faced forward. He calculated his path and executed it.
He kicked off the wall. More precisely, he kicked off protrusions on the wall here and there to propel himself upward.
Terraces, window ledges, wall decorations.
He was even faster now. He shot up to the rooftop almost at the same time Lucille arrived there.
The rooftop was swarming with Ratmen too. The ritual altar was barely visible.
Cheon-ho tossed the carrier first. Empowered by superhuman strength beyond human limits, it became a projectile weapon and knocked down six or seven Ratmen.
The Ratmen turned to Cheon-ho. Cheon-ho drew Mitra and charged at the densely packed horde. He cleared a path to the altar.
“Hero!”
“Ohh, Hero!”
Those fighting at the altar spotted Cheon-ho and shouted one after another. Having fully opened the path to the altar, Cheon-ho turned around. Lucille landed on the ground. She retrieved the Madrophe bow that Cheon-ho had used and thrown, then pulled an arrow from her inventory.
Catching Lucille’s action, Cheon-ho smiled. Thinking she was truly capable, he opened the leather quiver’s lid. He tied a scroll to the arrow Lucille offered and lit it with Ember Flame.
“Everyone, get down!”
He shouted, but only Lucille reacted. There was no time to wait or shout again. Cheon-ho leaped. In midair, he drew the bowstring.
His target was the edge of the royal palace rooftop.
No precise aim was needed. The arrow flew to the area Cheon-ho targeted, and as Cheon-ho landed on the ground and crouched, it struck.
Kwarunggrrr?!
A colossal explosion rocked the air. Condensed blue light burst outward in all directions, and the edge of the rooftop vanished. The Ratmen within the light’s range were swept away by the massive blast and erased from the world.
The Mountain Clan warriors were knocked flat by the shockwave. Saschiell and Eliel, watching from the sky, gaped in speechless shock, while Aurael fell flat on her butt.
Two scrolls consumed.
But the effect was more than enough. Over seventy percent of the Ratmen covering the rooftop had just been obliterated.
And there were side benefits too.
Far away, Karaka gasped for breath. The pillar of light shooting skyward had already driven her mad, but what was this rain of fire? And what was that explosion on the rooftop?!
“Go! Go!”
Snarling irritably, Karaka broke into a run herself. But her target wasn’t the rooftop.
She raced toward the Plague God’s altar.
Unlike her, however, Anghel halted her steps.
Instead of entering the capital, she stopped before it and looked to the sky.
A pillar of pure white light.
The greenish rot rising before it.
Her instincts screamed to flee.
But the Plague God’s command overpowered it, dominating her.
Stop them.
Stop them no matter what.
Anghel spat curses. She advanced into the capital with her ten thousand-strong horde.
Doruma raised his head. He vomited blood, then staggered to his feet. He recovered the Haste Sword in his right hand and gripped a greatsword with both hands.
Muttering Lukabrond’s name, he kicked off the ground.
Karaka arrived at the altar. She halted the ritual summoning a deep-layer being and used that power for something else.
Cheon-ho stood as well. He gazed at the frontal path that had been gloriously cleared, if only for a moment.
There were still many.
The greenish rot still dominated the capital.
Another wave of Ratmen surged from afar.
But he wasn’t afraid.
He relaxed his stance and exhaled deeply once.
[I remember!]
[That magic from back then! In the tower on the first floor!]
The magic that shattered the body Leon had newly created for him, the magic that broke the Empire Guardian Sword!
It was the same. The same wavelength.
“There were circumstances.”
[Circumstances?]
“Yeah, circumstances. I’ll explain after it’s over.”
Instead of playing dumb, Cheon-ho chose a frontal assault. The kind and gentle holy sword would understand once he heard the circumstances. They truly were unavoidable.
[Hmm.]
[Understood. If that’s what you say, then so be it.]
As expected of Mitra.
Cheon-ho happily stroked the golden gem on Mitra before facing forward again.
They were truly swarming in pitch black numbers.
And that wasn’t the end.
In the center of the capital.
The place visible from the palace in the north of the capital.
There, the greenish rot was condensing into one. It was an immense power felt even from afar.
The Plague God’s statue.
Karaka, standing beneath it, completed her incantation.
Doruma and Anghel halted their steps and turned to the center. The eyes of Saschiell and Eliel in the sky changed.
The power of the Plague God.
Instead of summoning a deep-layer being, they planned to use that power to directly destroy the altar of the Goddess of Healing.
That massive force would surely crash toward the palace.
“Great power of plague!”
Karaka thrust her hand toward the sky. The greenish rot, unified into the form of a dagger, shot up into the heavens.
The air trembled violently, and the battles raging across the capital froze for a moment.
Everyone raised their heads to behold the Plague God’s sword.
Doruma felt awe.
Anghel finally felt relief.
Karaka laughed loudly as she clenched her fist. She unleashed the plague sword toward the palace.
Aurael saw it.
Raguel gasped for breath while seated.
The Mountain Clan warriors faced the approaching greenish sword with resolute expressions.
Lucille approached Cheon-ho. Cheon-ho gave her a refreshing smile.
Lucille did the same.
Far from afraid, she smiled brightly.
Cheon-ho and Lucille faced forward.
The final stroke was drawn.
A ring of light completed itself at the outskirts of the capital.
The angels’ song resounding from the pillar of light reached its crescendo.
The plague sword reached the palace.
The power of the Goddess of Healing descended.
* * *
[Shoot toward the front.]
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Queen Lucana’s eyes widened.
Eizel, holding Prince Yug, stopped her incantation and looked up.
The pillar of light rising from the statue resembling Lucille was weakening.
It wasn’t because the divine relic’s power was exhausted.
Nor was the Goddess of Healing angry at Eizel or Prince Yug.
The Goddess of Healing’s power pouring into the fourth layer was converging into one.
Eizel was an angel. As Lucille had said, though low in rank, she was a being worthy of a seat at the divine table.
Thus, Eizel could sense it.
The flow of the Goddess of Healing’s power.
The place where that power was gathering.
No, in truth, everyone could sense it. Though the capital wasn’t directly visible due to the mountains, they couldn’t ignore it regardless.
The great, beautiful pillar of light surging from beyond.
Eizel hugged Prince Yug tightly. Prince Yug squirmed in her arms and stretched his tiny hand toward the distance.
And Queen Lucana spoke.
“We must go see.”
She could no longer wait patiently.
Her Mountain Clan responded to her words. Eizel hesitated for a moment but soon nodded. She spread her wings wide.
Prince Yug rubbed his cheek against Eizel’s chest. Eizel laughed ticklishly and took flight.
“Let’s go.”
Led by Queen Lucana, the Mountain Clan began their march.
* * *
Everyone in the capital was the same.
Those with eyes saw it. Those with ears heard it.
Anghel staggered back.
Doruma lowered the sword gripped in both hands. Karaka’s eyes bulged.
The greenish dagger advancing as if to destroy the entire world.
That embodiment of the Plague God’s power fixed in the sky above the palace. It could advance no further.
From the pillar of light emanated the colossal apparition of a goddess, extending her hand. Her slender, long arm crossed above the palace, and her fair, shapely fingers spread wide. An invisible force held the plague dagger, as large as the goddess’s upper body.
The Goddess of Healing.
Manifested through centuries of accumulated mana focused in the Phloren palace in the capital, her avatar descended to the lower layers.
She was beautiful.
Her golden hair, like molten gold, rippled like waves in the wind. Glistening in the sunlight, it was long enough to cover her entire white back.
The goddess’s eyes were green. The brilliant hue of spring, like a meadow where life sprouts.
She wore a green dress.
Clear and thin enough to be translucent, it did not constrict her body. It simply draped naturally over her form, leaving her peach-colored shoulders fully exposed.
The Goddess of Healing was never frail.
Her smile was undoubtedly beautiful, but not like a flower’s delicacy. It was the vibrant beauty of life pulsing and breathing.
The angels knelt. They clasped their hands and prayed.
Cheon-ho looked up at the colossal goddess apparition manifested above his head.
Being right beneath it, her face wasn’t clearly visible, but it was enough for him.
[You?!]
Mitra exclaimed in shock—or reproach—and Cheon-ho cleared his throat instead of explaining.
And amid it all, the Goddess of Healing continued her battle with the plague sword.
She swung her clenched fist as if shaking it off. The plague sword could endure no longer.
A benevolent green light, unlike the Plague God’s eerie rot, pierced the plague sword. Massive cracks formed across it, spilling white light from within, and heaven and earth shuddered simultaneously.
Tssshaaa?!
The plague sword shattered into pieces. Pure white light illuminated the entire capital, and the Goddess of Healing raised her other hand.
She thrust it forward with overwhelming momentum, unleashing her power.
Then, a miracle occurred.
A literal miracle.
The history wrought by the goddess.
The angelic phantoms appearing along the pillar of light sang joyously.
A great, powerful light rose from the pure white magic circle drawn across the capital.
The Plague God’s hordes trembled in fear.
Foam bubbled from their mouths as they went berserk, turning to flee the capital without regard for order.
But it was too late. The magic circle had already activated, and the pure white light became a barrier of radiance.
Burn.
The goddess did not speak. But everyone heard her voice.
The Plague God’s hordes near the barrier were engulfed in pure white light and incinerated. The thick fog of greenish rot dispersed, and cracks formed in the black clouds that had blotted out the sun and brought night.
Anghel screamed.
This was why she hadn’t wanted to come. She had sensed it would end like this.
The Rock Dwarves raised both hands and cheered wildly, enraptured by the miracle unfolding before them.
Doruma gasped for breath. Unsure what to do, he backed away.
Karaka vomited blood. The backlash from the plague sword’s destruction affected her, as she had been wielding the Plague God’s power.
“Guhk. Kk.”
Having spewed a basin’s worth of blood, she staggered. Leaning against the still-intact Plague God statue, she glared at the avatar of the Goddess of Healing descended upon the capital.
What to do? What could she do?
Even now, the Plague God’s hordes were burning.
The greenish rot filling the capital was diminishing.
[There is no way. The ritual has failed. You as well.]
A cold, eerie voice echoed in Karaka’s mind. Karaka swallowed a gasp and prostrated herself. It was the Plague God’s voice.
[But listen. Your failure will not end in mere tragedy.]
[What has descended now is not the Goddess of Healing. Merely her power. And even that will not last long.]
It was true. But the Plague God had failed to descend as well. Nearly half of the remaining greenish rot had already vanished.
[Offer the final sacrifice.]
[Add one last achievement to your end.]
Prostrated and trembling, Karaka raised her head. She understood the Plague God’s words.
The final sacrifice.
The final achievement.
She screamed. Shouted that she didn’t want to.
But it was futile. The Plague God was already devouring her flesh.
“Aaah, aaaahk!”
Karaka screamed. Her body was engulfed in greenish flames. And it wasn’t just Karaka.
Across the capital, greenish flames joined the pure white flames incinerating the Plague God’s hordes.
They burned the hordes in competition.
The cheering dwarves sensed something was wrong.
Doruma blankly looked around. Anghel screamed like Karaka.
“Nooo!”
If it was to end like this, they shouldn’t have summoned it at all! Should have left it in the mid-layers!
She couldn’t resent the Plague God. It was too powerful and terrifying. Thus, Anghel resented Karaka. She cursed her as she burned.
The greenish rot surged massively. It incinerated tens of thousands of the Plague God’s hordes, and the rising greenish smoke converged at the capital’s center.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing beheld it.
She removed the light barrier encircling the capital and gathered that power into her right hand. She formed a bow and arrow of light and drew the string.
Plague God!
The Goddess of Healing roared as she released the string. The massive arrow of light flew toward the capital’s center.
And it caught it.
What rose from the converged greenish rot.
A massive, grotesque hand covered in pitch-black fur.
The entire capital shook. As the hand gripping the light arrow squeezed, the arrow crumbled.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing’s eyes widened. At that moment, not just the capital but the surrounding area—no, the entire border of the fourth layer—vibrated. As if trembling in fear.
It had no choice. It could not help it.
The right arm of the Plague God.
Not some avatar, but the true right arm of the Plague God.
The Plague God had abandoned descending to the lower layers.
It had given up on the hordes gathered in the capital.
It no longer clung to the plan of bringing a deep-layer being to the lower layers.
It simply yearned.
Simply wished.
To eliminate the one who caused all this.
To erase from this world the accursed angel and hero who had hindered it since the first layer.
It was an incomplete descent.
Merely manifesting one right arm.
Even that could not be sustained long.
But it was enough.
For it was part of a god.
The power of the mighty evil god dominating one deep layer!
From the greenish rot, a massive right arm rose to the shoulder. Smoke substituted for the rest of the body.
The greenish giant bearing the god’s right arm stood tall at the capital’s center.
It took the form of the Plague God.
Seven horns protruded from its head, and its two eyes blazed red.
It roared. Swinging its right arm fiercely, the light barrier encircling the capital shook all at once. Unable to withstand the force, it shattered into pieces.
The Rock Dwarves collapsed to the ground. They could barely breathe.
The Plague God paid them no heed. Its red eyes glared at the palace rooftop.
It was the gaze of a god. The angels could not endure it. Combat angels including Saschiell and Eliel screamed in agony and plummeted from the rooftop, while the Mountain Clan clutched their chests and fell.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing hurriedly unleashed power to protect everyone.
And seizing that gap, the Plague God charged toward the palace.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing bellowed in fury.
The Plague God roared back.
The two divine behemoths.
The greenish giant with the god’s right arm and the god’s avatar.
They clashed.
It was not a tangled brawl.
It was a struggle of one piercing through and one blocking.
The Plague God hammered its fist against the invisible wall before the palace.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing gritted her teeth and thrust both hands forward.
Both sides expended monstrous power. It was obvious neither could endure long.
But if the avatar of the Goddess of Healing vanished first, even by a few seconds.
If the Plague God’s right arm lingered longer in the lower layers.
The Plague God’s right arm struck the light barrier again. The avatar of the Goddess of Healing groaned.
And when the third fist swung.
The light barrier shattered.
The Plague God’s right arm finally crushed the avatar’s power. Without stopping, it pierced the avatar of the Goddess of Healing’s chest.
The avatar of the Goddess of Healing let out a silent scream. The Plague God clenched its right hand, and the Goddess of Healing desperately reached out to grasp that right arm.
The Plague God laughed.
Mocking the avatar of the Goddess of Healing—no, the Goddess of Healing herself.
Your power is weakening.
You’re practically spent already.
The Goddess of Healing did not deny it. Clutching the Plague God’s right arm tightly, she raised her head. She smiled with her beautiful face. And whispered.