Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: Meanwhile in the Holy Kingdom... (2)
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Unique Ability: Blood Monster Arts. This power, meaning bizarre sorcery wielded through blood, was extraordinary.
The quality and purity of the blood used could affect the ability's potency and overall strength, but its most crucial aspect was its tremendous versatility.
It wasn't magic. It wasn't a force that channeled mana through precise incantations to manifest miracles defying natural laws.
Sorcery manifested impossibilities through mysticism itself.
Monsters crafted from blood rose into form. Chunks of flesh hanging dead from the ceiling burst open, then coalesced to be reborn anew.
4th-grade Mine—Puppeteer of the Blood Clan. True to his rank as a Mine, he had contracted with one of the Demon Kings' apostles.
The scene of his puppets emerging—lurking thoroughly behind them like a shadowy mastermind manipulating all—was utterly horrifying.
Flesh clumped together, bones intertwined, blood swirled in vortices, organs fused.
They were no longer of the human species. Puppets—mindless weapons that executed their creator's every command.
No fewer than ten such puppets revealed themselves in this warehouse. Forged from dozens of humans, their size rivaled even Cardinal Bartroy, the half-giant.
Nor were they weak in combat. They could effortlessly overwhelm even the Holy Kingdom's elite Heresy Inquisitors in one-on-one fights.
Moreover, these puppets wielded the Blood Monster Arts' creations as extensions of themselves—like living weapons fused into one.
They summoned blood-devouring insects from their backs, morphing them into tentacles.
They liquefied into the ground to hide, then erupted from beneath foes as spikes in ambushes, or internalized spike monsters and fired them like cannons.
Their might, absorbing various other monstrosities, was formidable enough to throw the Inquisitors— who had planned to overwhelm with numbers—into disarray.
Kwaaang!!Jjeojeok.
Finally, cracks spread further across the barrier. Sensing the dire shift as Bartroy viciously swung his sword, he pulled back. Breaking the barrier now took a backseat to eliminating those puppets first.
That was his judgment. He whirled around immediately.
"Where do you think you're going!!"
Of course, Cardinal Aoira wouldn't just stand by. He promptly summoned a horde of monstrosities via Blood Monster Arts to block Bartroy's path.
"Out of my way! You can't stop me with these pathetic tricks!"
Bartroy bulldozed through every trap with sheer overwhelming force. Eventually, even Cardinal Aoira deemed further resistance wasteful. Rather than blocking him, he diverted his remaining power to mend the barrier while manipulating the puppets.
The chaotic battlefield. The puppets and Inquisitors had been locked in stalemate—until Bartroy intervened, shattering the balance.
Casualties were inevitable. Capturing heretics was never easy. The Inquisitors had been extra cautious precisely because their foe was a cardinal.
Yet they could only reel in shock and fall victim upon discovering Cardinal Aoira's hidden power.
Excluding the twenty left outside for encirclement, over eighty Inquisitors remained—of them, more than twenty dead and over thirty gravely wounded before the ten puppets finally crumbled.
Only thirty could continue fighting, plus Cardinal Bartroy.
"Are you alright?"
"No issues."
To his loyal subordinate's question, Cardinal Bartroy glanced indifferently at his wounds everywhere, then shed his half-shattered armor.
The place was already a sea of blood. Amid this crimson hell, Aoira laughed even though all his puppets lay destroyed.
"Impressive. Truly impressive. Your title as the Holy Kingdom's greatest holy knight is well-earned. Far stronger than I imagined."
Aoira clapped as he eyed the approaching cardinal and Inquisitors. A situation tantamount to defeat. Yet no despair or surrender flickered in his eyes.
On the contrary—he looked delighted. Utterly thrilled.
"If you're flapping your mouth just because of that flimsy barrier..."
Hwooung!Kwang!
The barrier cracked slightly. He'd mended it, but losing high-quality blood was unavoidable, and its weakened durability followed naturally.
Kwang!Kwang!Kwang!Kwang!
The cracks widened. Widened further. And further still.
Kwajik! Wajangchang!
At last, the barrier shielding Cardinal Aoira collapsed. Undeniably, the cardinal's defeat seemed certain.
Yet he merely laughed. That smile, once so fitting, now looked grotesquely out of place.
"Stop grinning and surrender quietly."
"Ah... That was fun. Holy Kingdom's top Heresy Inquisitor. Cardinal Bartroy. A pity you're not the Pope. But you'll make a fine sacrificial vessel for the core role."
"Nonsense! We'll hack off your limbs until you snap to reality!"
Cardinal Bartroy bellowed as he raised his greatsword to strike at Cardinal Aoira.
And in that instant—
"The sideshow ends here. Time to get to work."
Aoira's face rapidly turned emotionless as he flicked his gaze behind Bartroy.
Puuk!
A holy sword pierced the cardinal's heart just as he swung—revealing itself through his chest.
"Kuhk! Wh... What...?"
He stared incredulously at his left chest. A holy sword. One of the Holy Kingdom's treasures granted only to a select few powerhouses.
This particular blade was unmistakable. After all, wasn't it the prized sword he'd personally wielded and bestowed upon his most valued subordinate?
For a man obsessed with collecting divine armaments, handing over his finest sword carried profound meaning.
Strength fled Bartroy's hand; the massive sword clattered to the blood-soaked floor.
Turning his head slowly, he saw the man who had stabbed him.
"Why?"
"What're you asking? On the brink of death anyway. Hah. Just thinking about babysitting your wrinkly ass makes me wanna shred you to bits. But our Cardinal Aoira asked to leave the corpse intact, so I'll send you off painlessly. Die already."
Puhwak!
The sword withdrew. Simultaneously, some surviving Inquisitors—frozen in horror—suddenly turned and massacred their fellows.
Traitors from within. The most painful blunder imaginable.
Yet Bartroy could say nothing to them. His life force drained like from a bottomless flask. The scent of death, once at his feet, now crept to his nose.
Death. The word greeted him.
"Kuhahaha! I see you like my ace in the hole. Curious, aren't you? Why the Inquisitor who slaughtered most of our kin became my puppet?"
Aoira leaned in, whispering softly.
"Even one who butchered our kin crumbled when his wife and child fell to become Mines. The lifelong demon hunter couldn't punish his family. He begged me instead—to accept his corrupted wife and child. They'd cut shady deals with demons and were on death's door."
Bartroy's eyes shook at the unbelievable tale. Aoira drew even closer, murmuring just for him.
"But get this? The one who corrupted his wife and child... was none other than me."
Rage surged. Despair crashed. Guilt overwhelmed. How had he failed to recognize this evil right before him?
Regret gnawed. He lamented his inescapable end.
Ah... My God. Are You watching this place?
You were watching. Forgive me. Your humble servant meets his end first. Though my soul may not reach You. I dare to implore You.
"Please... to that child... my demise... this evil..."
Kiigigigigik!!!
A gaze descended. Fury no lowly creature here could withstand reverberated. Yet Aoira could endure even this.
This warehouse was, after all, a domain impervious to divine interference—one he'd crafted alongside his Demon King patron.
Outside, space warped, mana screamed, nature shattered. But within this warehouse, all was safe.
"Hmph! A god who can't even meddle here! Your incarnation's flesh and soul will be offered to my great master, becoming a pillar of this grand scheme!"
The gaze faded amid lingering fury. It couldn't tear away from the incarnation's corpse to the last, but ultimately withdrew, powerless.
Thud.
Bartroy's head lolled fully. At the same time, the traitors slaughtered the remaining Inquisitors.
"Well done. Clean up the rest and bring them. We must keep their souls from escaping until the ritual powering begins and the true festival commences."
Aoira gestured. Blood pooling across the floor surged skyward, revealing a massive magic circle.
Engraved across the entire warehouse—no, the mountain's heart—it was a descent ritual for offerings.
A colossal composite magic circle he'd etched across the Holy Kingdom long ago for this grand scheme.
"I shall summon my god to this cesspool of repulsive, glittering trash and pass judgment!"
Thus, in the deepest recesses of this vast prison, my god shall claim a fragment of that great one!
And be reborn as the mighty Demon God!
The grand scheme had begun. None could stop it—not even that insolent brat who'd thwarted his plans alongside Bartroy, delving into the underground prison.
Aoira activated the circle, hoisting the corpses onto ceiling hooks.
After handling even the lingering remnants outside—including the Inquisitors—he ordered the traitor Inquisitors to guard the place in secret, then departed.
"Ah! Your Eminence. You've arrived. Did things go well with that matter you needed to handle?"
"Hahaha. The divine blessing aided me splendidly. We have our afternoon meeting, yes?"
"Yes. Leaving now should get you there right on time."
As if nothing had happened, he resumed his act. Not as the Blood Clan's puppeteer Mine, but as one of the Holy Kingdom's sole four—now three—cardinals.
Until the moment the grand scheme ignited, he would keep silent and maintain the charade. For his god and his own ascension.
"Come now! The Holy Spirit Festival is just two days away. Let's give it our all until the end."
Smiling with his usual kindly warmth.