The Spring of El Dorado (3)
“Wh-What in heaven’s name is that…?”
Cardinal Morgan, devoted servant to the Pope, couldn’t hide his utter bewilderment.
He had certainly been rattled when Asella, branded a traitor, suddenly made her dramatic entrance, but that had still been within the realm of contingencies. The Holy See had already calculated every conceivable variable, and the Hero’s arrival was merely one of them.
Yet that thing… That was something else entirely. He couldn’t even begin to find the words to describe it.
Towering before them was a colossal statue easily two to three times the height of the surrounding buildings. Statues were supposed to be carved from dull gray stone, but this monolith gleamed in an immaculate blend of radiant gold and brilliant white. Rather than an inanimate sculpture, it felt as though they were staring down a living, breathing titan.
“L-Lord Cain… isn’t it?”
“Look at him… That’s Lord Cain without a doubt!”
A wave of violent agitation swept through the ranks of the holy knights. It was hardly surprising; the statue’s entrance had been nothing short of a literal divine descent. Plunging straight out of the empty heavens, it had shielded the Hero from certain death. The angelic wings unfurled upon its back, the towering aegis clutched in its hand—no matter who looked, there was only one identity to be drawn.
It was Cain. The First Paladin, the legendary champion woven inextricably into the founding mythos of El Dorado.
Stone or flesh, when the very symbol of their faith materialized before their eyes, composure was an impossibility.
“E-Everyone, hold your ground! That creature is merely another un—!”
Cardinal Morgan choked on his own words through the amplification magic. Could he truly dare to brand that statue a lingering thrall of the Undying King? That towering incarnation of Cain, who had seemingly descended from the firmament in answer to the Hero’s prayer? The Holy Sword remained planted in the cobblestones, bathing the square in dazzling light, while Cain stood steadfast, an impenetrable wall barring the road to the Papal Palace. No plausible lie came to mind. Every carefully laid scheme was unraveling at the seams.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Emerging from beneath Cain’s protective embrace, Asella walked forward. The holy knights reflexively leveled their crossbows at her approach. Amidst the suffocating tension, she halted before the radiant blade embedded in the earth.
Shring!
With a fluid draw, she pulled the Holy Sword free and leveled its point directly at the Holy See. Faced with an undeniable declaration of hostility, the knights flinched, though they hastily braced their stances anew.
BOOM! THUD! THUD!
Yet as Cain took his first colossal strides forward, the defenders’ morale collapsed entirely. This was a titan that had swatted aside hundreds of enchanted bolts and heavy artillery shells as if brushing away specks of dust. If that impenetrable defense were ever turned toward offense, the resulting carnage defied imagination. More than anything, the prospect of drawing steel against the legendary hero of their very scriptures struck a paralyzing chord in their hearts. The holy knights were citizens of El Dorado before they were soldiers. Hesitation burrowed deep into their souls.
“A-All units, prepare to fire! Do not take a single step back!”
The commander screamed himself hoarse, but the fire had already gone out of his men. Several knights outright lowered their crossbows in open defiance. The commander raged, shrieking threats of military tribunals and papal execution, but his fury was thoroughly drowned out by Asella’s ringing voice.
“Hear me, all of you!”
Clear, resonant, and overflowing with quiet majesty, her voice carried across every inch of the vast plaza without the aid of spellcraft or megaphones. In that same breath, the Holy Sword flared with the blinding radiance of the midday sun. It was a pure, cleansing light that banished all shadows, offering absolute proof that she stood not as a fallen traitor, but as the true Hero of the realm.
“Goddess Aris has answered our plea! And as living proof of her grace, she has sent forth our First Paladin, Lord Cain!”
The living monolith that had descended from the heavens at the darkest hour—stone though he was, none could deny that he moved by a higher divine will. And there was no need to question whose will that was. It belonged to the true master of El Dorado.
“Lay down your weapons! You bear no guilt! The sin rests solely upon the wicked masters who ordered those weapons drawn!”
“She is a traitor! Will you truly be swayed by the silver tongue of a heretic?!” came the frantic shriek from the Holy See’s battlements.
Yet with the Goddess herself intervening to separate the righteous from the wicked, the truth was laid bare for all to see. Countless knights had already harbored bitter doubts about this brutal suppression. Now that the undeniable will of Aris stood physically before them, their loyalty shattered like brittle glass.
Clack.
A single knight let his crossbow tumble to the stones. That solitary sound served as the opening salvo of surrender.
Clatter— Clang! Clatter!
Crossbows, broadswords, and heavy shields cascaded to the pavement. One by one, the holy knights cast their armaments into the dirt. Lastly, the crews operating the heavy artillery spiked their cannons, plugging the barrels shut.
“Y-You worthless cowards…! Have you lost your bloody minds?!”
“Stand down, Commander.”
“Wh-What did you say?!”
The commander’s furious tirade was cut short by the calm, resolute voice of a subordinate.
“It is over. Goddess Aris has made her divine will known.”
“You insubordinate dog…!”
“Even if you command us to butcher our own people, we will not obey.”
The commander raised a gauntleted fist to strike the knight, but froze midway.
Scores of silent, unyielding gazes were locked onto him from every direction. A commander was only a commander so long as there were soldiers willing to follow his orders. Stripped of that obedience, he was nothing more than an empty shell draped in polished armor.
Choked by the overwhelming silence, the commander let his arm fall limp. There was no one left to command.
“O Aris…”
“Forgive us our sins…”
Murmurs of repentance echoed through the square as the knights made the sign of the cross. Rank by rank, the entire garrison sank to their knees, bowing their heads in fervent prayer. Watching the sea of knights lay down their arms, Asella let a soft, radiant smile grace her lips.
At last…
The bitter, freezing winter that had gripped El Dorado for so long was breaking.
It’s finally… over.
A warm spring was on its way.
Following Cain’s miraculous advent, the crisis unravelled with dizzying speed. With the holy knights entirely devoid of the will to fight, the morale of the protesting citizenry surged to an all-time high.
“W-Wait, wasn’t the Hero supposed to be a traitor?”
“Who gives a damn! She literally just saved our lives!”
“The real traitors are those bastards in the Holy See! You know the Pope was pulling the strings all along!”
Without needing to utter a word of defense, Asella’s tarnished reputation washed away cleanly. To the eyes of the people, she had acted as nothing less than their savior. When the First Paladin himself had descended to guard her back, who could dare brand her a heretic?
Riding this overwhelming momentum, the crowd surged through the gates of the Papal Palace, dragging out every corrupt official and collaborator who had enabled the tyranny.
“Ugh…”
“It’s Uncle Hans!”
“A cleric! Is there a cleric nearby?!”
“Take a look around you, lad, we’re practically tripping over them!”
Among those rescued from the deep dungeons was Hans, who had endured horrific torture at the hands of the Inquisitors. He had taken a savage beating; barely an inch of his burly frame was left unbruised. After receiving emergency first aid, he was hurried off toward the grand cathedral, which was swiftly converted into a makeshift triage center.
“Unhand me this instant! Do you have any idea who I am?!”
“What should we do with this lot?”
“Damned if I know. The Hero will figure out what to do with them.”
“Can’t we just toss them into the Forest of the Four Seasons?”
“Not a bad idea, but how about we each take a turn punching his face first?”
“I like the way you think. Line’s gonna be a mile long, though.”
Pope Lucius II, completely detached from reality to the bitter end, continued to shriek in manic denial as he was dragged across the flagstones.
“This is all a vile conspir—GACK!”
Smack! Thud! Wham!
A flurry of furious fists quickly restored blessed silence. In their hearts, the citizens burned to string him up from the nearest lamppost, but they reined themselves in. Vengeance of that sort was wrong; his sins needed to be weighed under the impartial scales of justice. Just as Asella had once noted, the people of El Dorado were gentle to a fault.
“What’s the plan for the holy knights?” Reina asked, sauntering up alongside Asella.
“First, we need to strip every corrupt officer of their rank,” Asella replied thoughtfully. “Then we reinstate the commanders the Pope purged during his reign.”
“Sounds like a mountain of paperwork. You really planning to shoulder all of that yourself?”
Asella offered a gentle, tired smile and nodded. The rot within the church ran deep, leaving countless wounds across the state that required immediate tending. The purges targeting Ludwig’s faction had ripped a massive hole in their military hierarchy. While she intended to restore as many veterans as possible, Ludwig himself was an irreplaceable loss.
“Once things stabilize here… I have to find Master. And our savior, too.”
“Our savior? You mean that person from the forum?”
“Yes. If not for him, the Holy Kingdom would have fallen into total ruin.”
A community that lost its guiding purpose inevitably stagnated, and stagnant waters bred corruption. As the demon race developed a civilized culture, continental conflicts had steadily dwindled, and the very concept of a Demon King had faded into obscurity. Yet El Dorado had clung blindly to archaic dogma, insisting on a ceaseless holy war. In doing so, the theocracy had ironically walked the path of becoming the very evil it sought to destroy.
“Going forward, this nation will no longer bear the name of El Dorado,” Asella murmured quietly.
“…Now what kind of crazy talk is that?”
“The name has been stained beyond repair.”
Originally, ‘El Dorado’ had been a holy title bestowed directly by the Goddess Aris. But now that it was sullied by treachery, greed, and the blood of innocents, it could no longer serve as a proud banner. Aris’s judgment was clear: the realm required a fresh identity.
“Of course, it’s not a decision I can make alone. I plan to gather the consensus of every citizen.”
“You know what changing the name of a kingdom really means, don’t you?”
“I do. It means being reborn as an entirely new nation.”
Terms like ‘predecessor state’ didn't exist for nothing. Even so, the core identity of their people wouldn’t vanish; their faith in Goddess Aris would endure unbroken. Just as a caterpillar shed its cocoon to emerge as a butterfly, the holy realm was merely undergoing its necessary metamorphosis.
“Before that, though…”
Asella raised her head. Towering in the center of the courtyard was the golden-white colossus. Currently, the statue of Cain stood sentinel before the gates of the Papal Palace, drawing awe-struck gazes from every man, woman, and child who could crowd close enough to see. The public had been pushed back for safety precautions, leaving only Asella and Reina standing at its feet.
“Lord Cain, what will you do now?”
At Asella’s question, the statue’s head tilted downward. That simple motion alone exerted an overwhelming aura of primordial authority. It was undeniable proof that the relic possessed a living consciousness. Whether he was truly the reincarnation of the mythical paladin or an ancient construct infused with his will, the presence was indistinguishable.
“I shall return to whence I came,” a resonant, imperial voice echoed directly within her mind.
As expected…
A pang of longing tugged at Asella’s chest. She desperately wished he could remain to safeguard the fragile realm, but she knew that was mere greed.
“If our people face peril again… will you aid us?”
“I shall ever answer the call.”
Those few words were more than enough to steady her heart. Asella smiled brightly. Cain would remain the eternal guardian of their land—a protector who would manifest from the heavens whenever righteous blood cried out in despair.
Fzzzt—!
Without warning, a colossal pillar of brilliant white light lanced down from the stratosphere, enveloping the statue’s massive frame. While the onlookers gasped in shock, Asella remained serene.
“You are departing, then.”
“I am.”
“May I know where your journey leads?”
“You know already.”
I know already…
A solitary place sprang to mind. What kind of realm was it truly? Hearing it described as a forbidden death world made one hesitate to even gaze in its direction. Yet now, an undeniable fascination took root within her. It was a cradle where living legends and divine artifacts still breathed.
Wuuuush—
Cain’s colossal form began to drift upward, riding the beam of holy radiance toward the clouds. Asella tilted her head back, watching his ascent in reverent silence.
“As I have ever pledged,” Cain’s resonant voice echoed one final time as his golden gaze locked with hers, “I shall answer the call.”
A sacred, unshakable promise.
BOOOOOOOM!
Accelerating like a streak of lightning, the titan launched skyward and vanished into the blue expanse. Asella watched the empty sky for a long moment before whispering from the depths of her soul.
“…Thank you.”
“Ugh, seriously, what kind of ridiculous chore is this…? You all done over there?”
“Finished,” Ludwig grunted.
I was currently busy sweating bullets on top of the cavern roof, desperately trying to repair the colossal breach left behind when that damn statue blasted off into the sky. Because the thing had launched with the acceleration of a ballistic missile, the exit hole was downright massive. Brickwork couldn’t bridge a gap that wide on short notice, forcing us to lash together heavy raw timber logs just to patch the draft.
Freezing my ass off in this weather just to fix a ceiling…
Still, the nightmare was finally over. The logs were securely wedged, which meant all that was left was to climb down and warm up by the fire. Clutching my toolbox, I was just about to hop down from the ledge when—
SHOOOOOOOOOM!
An ominous whistling shriek ripped through the air above. Startled by the deafening pitch, I snapped my head toward the clouds. Some tiny, hyper-velocity speck was plummeting straight toward our coordinates. Don’t tell me that’s a meteorite…
Before my brain could even finish processing the thought, the incoming projectile slammed directly into our shelter.
KABOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
It completely pulverized every single timber log we had just spent hours hauling, notching, and fastening into place. And because it hit us on the descent, the resulting crater in our ceiling was twice the size of the original hole.
“……”
“……”
Ludwig and I stood frozen on the cliffside, staring blankly at the billowing cloud of dust and splintered wood. The situation was so breathtakingly absurd that my jaw simply hung slack. What the hell just dropped on my house?!
Swallowing back a volcanic eruption of pure rage, I crept toward the lip of the crater and peered down into the cavern floor.
Clack! Clatter! Clack!
Buried headfirst in the packed dirt, the miniature stone statue was violently vibrating, clattering its little jaws like a defective nutcracker. Next to it, Bbarmbo was tilting his head with a slow, utterly baffled expression that clearly read, What the hell is this thing’s problem?
Miraculously, Wonmo was curled up right beside the impact zone completely unharmed, still snoring away like a log.
…Should I just throw this piece of junk into the river?
What kind of infuriating nuisance falls out of the sky like that?!