Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: 054. Archangel - (1)
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Scraaape.
Sophia's Ink Sword merely scraped across Gregoryus's armor. But that was enough. The demonic energy imbued in the Ink Sword carved deep black sword marks into the armor.
The armor's seams split open, and the pauldrons clattered to the ground. Gregoryus's face twisted in fury.
"...How dare you!"
Gregoryus readjusted his grip on his sword and charged at Sophia.
But it was only for a moment. He hadn't even taken a few steps toward her before he had to hurl himself backward.
Booom!
A fireball had come hurtling from the spire. Seizing the opening as Gregoryus faltered, Sophia slammed her sword down vertically.
Thud. An immense impact. Gregoryus barely managed to block without even finding his footing. His feet sank nearly a foot into the rooftop.
Naturally, the tide of battle favored Sophia.
Gregoryus had to contend with the barrage of spells raining from the spire while fending off Sophia's sharp attacks.
Moreover, Sophia showed no mercy. Rather than fighting fair and square, she only pressed in and swung her blade when Leo's supporting fire created an opportunity.
"W-What cowardly..."
"Cowardly?"
Sophia scoffed.
"That's just the excuse losers make. The moment we draw our swords, we're honorable. Right?"
"What kind of twisted logic is that?"
Gregoryus's eyelids twitched violently.
"My master said it."
Winning without drawing your sword is noble. In other words, as long as you win, the means don't matter.
Whether rolling in the mud or striking from behind, the one left standing is the strong one—and the strong one is justice.
At least, to Sophia, she was justice.
She'd always fought that way and been praised for it.
So now, she'd smash this shady knight and rescue her master.
Then get praised by her master afterward.
That was her sole focus.
"So hand over your neck nice and quiet. I'm planning to claim it as a trophy."
"You pint-sized brat...! And you call yourself a knight? Where did you sell your knightly pride?!"
"Pride? Everyone in the Knight Faculty who was jealous of me because I was better said the same thing."
Sophia shrugged.
"I just broke one more bone for each of them, and they shut up."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Sophia kicked off the ground and lunged. Every time Gregoryus swung his greatsword to counter, magic inevitably poured from the spire.
Whooosh! Spells that precisely targeted his blind spots. No matter how skilled a knight Gregoryus was, he couldn't have eyes in the back of his head.
"Ngh."
Gregoryus's face contorted in pain as a flame arrow struck his back.
Meanwhile, Sophia glanced sidelong up at the spire.
Golden hair fluttering in the wind, a familiar silhouette.
At a glance, he looked identical to Leo, but the scent was different. Oil and metal. It wasn't human—it was a doll.
'...Well, it's useful enough.'
That tiny mage, Otilie Kete von Ihen Dorp, was a creepy girl who went around making toys modeled after her master.
She hated to admit it, but the doll's performance was incredible. She'd noticed it during the Twin Towers incident, but now its capabilities had leaped forward dramatically.
If Sophia fought that doll one-on-one, she'd win, but she'd take heavy damage herself.
The doll moved as if it knew in advance where Sophia would go, where she'd strike. It seemed Otilie was controlling it directly, and even Sophia, a magic novice, could tell that was a near-miraculous feat.
And it wasn't just that one doll under control. Otilie had already released smaller dolls inside the cathedral. To kill this knight and find Leo right after.
'Well, Master's choice.'
Probably thanks to her master's keen eye.
So, would that girl become a threat to Sophia down the line?
She pondered seriously.
'Nah.'
If it was the Leo she knew, he wouldn't fall for some scrawny, creepy girl like that.
That was Sophia's conclusion.
Clang!
The one-sided battle continued.
Finally, Sophia's Ink Sword shattered Gregoryus's greaves.
The momentum had shifted decisively. With every swing of the Ink Sword and every spell from Leo, pieces of Gregoryus's armor fell away one by one.
After a few minutes, all that remained on Gregoryus was his breastplate and helmet.
"...Damn it all."
The eyes visible through the slits in his helmet burned red with bloodshot rage. The humiliation of being toyed with by mere cadets.
In the end, he thrust his longsword deep into the rooftop.
"What, giving up already?"
Thinking it a sign of surrender, Sophia sneered.
But instead of a white flag, Gregoryus pulled a dark crimson gem from his bosom.
"Fine. From this moment on, this is on you."
"What're you babbling about? Sounds like loser's excuses to me."
Sophia mocked him. But Gregoryus ignored her, raised the gem, and swallowed it whole.
As Sophia faltered in surprise at the sudden action, Gregoryus writhed as if in agony before lifting his head. He grinned a smile so grotesque it seemed to split his face, veins bulging and writhing across his skin.
"This is the power of the Elder Gods."
Sophia grimaced.
Her instincts were screaming a warning. This was no ordinary situation.
She hurriedly leaped back.
But space tore open faster than she could move.
*
How did things come to this?
Archbishop Balua scowled fiercely. Outside the window, the academy's guards were in a standoff with the paladins at the main gate. A powder keg ready to explode into battle at any moment.
"...Damn it."
And that was just the start.
The second-floor corridor of the cathedral was in chaos too. Faint explosions and screams echoed even now— the sounds of paladins and Holy See knights being swept away.
In other words, the knights he'd sent to capture Elise were embarrassingly outmatched.
"Where's Gregoryus?"
"The last report was that he was deploying a barrier on the rooftop. However..."
"What is it?"
"...We've received reports of flame magic erupting from the rooftop."
Even the one reliable ally, Holy See Knight Captain Gregoryus, was out of contact. Meaning he was locked in combat.
It was then, as Balua sighed heavily and rubbed his face—
——Ruuuumble.
The entire cathedral shook as if struck by an earthquake.
And the ominous energy emanating from the rooftop.
Dense and unrefined, unlike holy power.
This meant Gregoryus had temporarily unleashed his divine authority.
A knight captain-level powerhouse pushed that far into a corner.
"...Aaaargh!"
Balua hurled the sacred relic from the altar. Twenty years. Elise Aurora de Lua was the sacrifice he'd meticulously cultivated for twenty whole years.
All that effort was about to go up in smoke in an instant.
Worse, the root of all this upheaval was a lowly priest Balua hadn't even spared a thought for.
Grit. Balua ground his teeth.
The plan was already in ruins. No salvaging it now.
If he surrendered at this point, could he at least save his neck?
"...No, I've come too far."
Balua denied it.
Researching and indulging in divine authority was heresy by diocesan decree.
He'd even planned to kidnap a saintess candidate for use as a sacrifice. It wasn't just heresy. The Holy See would have every right to execute him on the spot. No amount of influence within the church could shield him from that blade.
'Is this the end...?'
He shook his head.
He couldn't let it end like this. It was the lifelong ambition he'd devoted everything to.
If only he could bring the Elder Gods' power—that sublime divine authority—to this land...
"...Yes."
Glancing at the clock, it was just past midnight.
The perfect time for the ritual.
Everything was prepared.
The absence of Elise as a vessel had held him back until now. But she didn't have to be the vessel.
"...Hoo."
Balua's eyes gleamed. He picked up the chalice from the cracked altar, filled with swirling black liquid.
His old, frail body might not withstand it. His flesh could collapse under the divine authority, his self devoured.
But...
"...The water's already spilled."
If there was even a chance to become a god.
He'd seal that power in his body and etch a new order onto this world.
With a mad laugh, Balua poured the black liquid from the chalice into his mouth.
*
"Your Highness, look over there."
First Princess Ciris Leisander arrived at Erebos Royal Academy just past midnight.
As soon as the carriage bearing the royal crest passed through the main gate, Beatrice, her guard knight peering out the window, reported.
"The situation doesn't look good."
Ciris followed Beatrice's gaze and wore a peculiar expression.
The scene outside the window was pure pandemonium.
Collapsed buildings, fleeing faculty, and a black pillar rising from the cathedral shrouded in a barrier.
"...A black pillar."
Gazing at the sight from inside the carriage with an impassive face. Beatrice asked, her own face pale.
"Your Highness, what in the world is that? That ominous energy... up to the heavens..."
"It's an Archangel."
Ciris answered calmly.
"A curse born from forcibly dragging out the Elder Gods' power and failing. It takes the form of a fallen angel. Close enough to call it a devil."
For Ciris, it was a sight she'd grown sick of seeing over seven regressions. It usually appeared at the end of summer break, suddenly half-destroying the kingdom—a disaster.
"But... it's strange."
Ciris narrowed her eyes.
This regression's Archangel differed slightly from her memories. The energy was far more unstable. And the vessel was wrong. The wavelength she sensed within that grotesque aura wasn't Elise's.
'Balua? That old fool did it himself?'
Once she'd learned Archbishop Balua was the mastermind behind summoning the Archangel, Ciris had mobilized her private forces to slaughter everyone in the cathedral.
Balua's final act of desperation had been to use his own body as the vessel for the divine authority.
But that judgment was the worst self-inflicted wound. For Balua and the kingdom alike.
Unlike the Archangel that could be subdued thanks to Elise's sublime vessel, the devil summoned through Balua's imperfect one was an uncontrollable cataclysm.
That was why Ciris had never bothered thwarting Balua's plan. Corner a rat, and it bites the cat—even she knew pushing him too hard could make the fire spiral out of control.
The old Ciris would have given up on this mess and aimed for the next regression.
But...
"Well, let's see how this plays out this time."
This regression had another variable.
Priest Leo. She didn't know what he was, but so far, this loop had produced the best outcomes beyond her expectations.
So she ought to trust him this time too.
That said, since she was at Erebos for once, offering a little aid made sense.
Ciris snapped her fan shut and rose from her seat.
"Let's go help, Tris. The stage looks too hot to just watch."
"Yes, Your Highness."
At Ciris's command, Beatrice drew a sword gleaming like sunlight.