Pitch-Black Beyond Hope (6)
Shuri doubted his own eyes.
A Holy Power Bullet was whirling and blazing in Isaac's hand. The sphere, which had been no bigger than a fist, had swelled to the size of an entire house—what the hell, what?!
What's with that size?!
A Holy Power Bullet's scale and density changed dramatically depending on the holy power its caster possessed. At the sight of a bullet unlike anything he'd ever seen, Shuri and the other priests alike froze in shock. And just as the question of how such a size was even possible crossed his mind, Shuri's pupils trembled.
They had no choice but to.
That little bastard hadn't crafted that monstrous thing to preen about how pretty it was. He'd obviously built it to throw. Which meant—wait. What?
Throw it? Throw what? That?
He's going to throw THAT?
No, hold on!
One look was enough to tell that it could sweep away the entire Execution Grounds. And if he hurled that thing from here, right now—!
The blood drained from Shuri's face as the consequences played out in his head.
No, no, NO! He's a priest too, right?! He wouldn't do that in a place like this!
Look how many people were here! With distinguished guests in attendance, no less—no sane person would pull something so unconscionable!
But Isaac, shattering that hope entirely, drew back his arm and threw the Holy Power Bulle—what the hell, that bastard actually threw it!
Shuri's vision blurred as the bullet sailed gloriously through the air.
He hadn't thrown it at the crowd, at least. The Holy Power Bullet came slamming down into the ground like a sledgehammer driving in a pile!
BOOM!!
The instant the bullet kissed the earth, the ground split open and a massive explosion erupted.
"GYAAAAH!"
"AAAAGH!"
It was no accident that the bullet had been amplified with the Saintess's power. Splitting the earth, its force spread outward like a typhoon and swept across the Execution Grounds.
"Hahahaha! Die, all of you, you sons of bitches!"
Is that a priest or a demon spawn?
Dust mingled with wind coiled around the arena, choking the air.
KRA-KOOM!
"Ugh! I can't see!"
"We're getting swept away! Hold on!"
Having reduced the Execution Grounds to pandemonium, Isaac let out a satisfied phehet of a laugh.
He'd have loved to hurl the Holy Power Bullet straight at the angel, but this once, there was no helping it. After all, what he needed right now was the angel's blood.
For rescuing his subordinates, blocking their sight was more than enough. Well, not that he lacked other motives.
As Isaac moved off somewhere, the corner of his mouth curled into a sly grin.
The angel, meanwhile, with his vision smothered in dust, was floundering.
Is this power the Saintess's?
It was unmistakable. But not just anyone could wield the Saintess's power—and the moment that thought landed, the angel's expression turned vicious beyond measure.
Clearly, Cheong's people needed some serious reeducation. How on earth did someone manage the power granted to them so carelessly that a child could fling the gods' strength around like a toy?
Later, he'd go to Cheong and give them a piece of his—
No. Wait. Those fools couldn't even catch the Skeleton King.
Murderous intent kindled in the angel's eyes.
As a steward belonging to the army of the great Chief God, he knew a great deal about the Skeleton King as well.
True, he'd never seen the Skeleton King himself—different era, different generation—but the higher generations would break into convulsions at the mere mention of his name.
What kind of being could he possibly be, to make them tremble so violently?
Though honestly, when the old ones trembled, they refused to speak of it at all.
Anyone could understand if they'd seen that generation with their own eyes—the one that had faced the Skeleton King directly.
They were afraid of him.
They despised the Skeleton King to death, yet they feared his existence just as deeply. Which was exactly why the younger generations couldn't comprehend it.
Sure, a 10th-Tier Demon King was bound to be strong, to a degree.
But even so—wasn't he an undead demon king, the type most fatally vulnerable to holy attributes? With a bit of cunning and the right strategy, even the Skeleton King should have remained nothing more than a thorn in the gods' sides.
At any rate, that was precisely why the Saintesses never got any credit.
If Cheong's people had done their jobs properly from the start, the great gods would never have had to suffer the trouble of personally summoning and sealing the Skeleton King themselves.
Well, thankfully, the Skeleton King was locked away tight in his prison, and that was that.
Regardless—I'll deal with his lackeys myself.
He would personally dispose of what remained of the Skeleton King's legacy.
The higher generations had convulsed in their sleep even talking about the Skeleton King's subordinates, muttering that "they carry a trace of that Skeleton King's power, so they're no pushovers"—but really.
He would prove with his own hands that the Skeleton King was nothing special.
Yes. Prove it—
Huh?
The angel shuddered. An icy, creeping sensation had brushed against his back.
!
The feeling made the hairs on his neck stand on end, and the angel whipped his head around on reflex. But all he could see was swirling dust.
What was that?
It was unmistakable.
Someone was watching him.
He couldn't tell from where, but it felt as though he was being watched from every direction at once.
The chill crept from the crown of his head down along his spine—
Swish.
!!
This time it wasn't his back. It was his neck.
Startled, the angel frantically scanned his surroundings. Not so much an unpleasant feeling as a shiver he'd never felt before—wait. A shiver?
The angel bit his lip in disbelief and clenched his fists.
Did I just feel a shiver of fear?
Who in the world—
Just then, something caught the eye of the angel as he strained all five senses. A flash of platinum-blonde hair in the dust. The moment he realized what that meant, his eyes turned murderous.
Don't tell me—it's that brat?
He, an angel, had just felt fear at the hands of a human spawn?
Insolent whelp!
Just as the angel moved to snatch Isaac up by the collar—
"Don't move."
—!
"Move, and you die."
A frosty voice whispered against the back of his neck.
The angel froze solid at the sound pouring into his ear.
I can't move my body.
And that was precisely what made it so unbelievable.
The voice was clearly that of a child—
Yet the voice carried rank. Like a sage who had transcended the ages. Or, heard another way, like a sovereign who had used tens of thousands of angels as nothing more than chess pieces.
"You're nothing but a worthless little angel, after all."
A shiver.
The angel's shoulders hunched. That vicious sneer seemed to press down on the top of his skull.
But it only lasted a moment.
A fist came flying. A strike aimed unmistakably at his face.
CRACK!
—Kghk!
The ferocious punch slammed into the angel's face.
It was imbued with strike-reinforcement holy arts, so the blow was far from negligible. No—it was strong enough to leave his head spinning for a moment.
Is this the Saintess's power too?
Another fist came hurtling in.
The angel flinched at its force.
It's strong—!
Casting holy arts directly against a servant of God was taboo, sure—but if he didn't block, he'd be the one getting beaten!
And that chill from before proved this was no ordinary opponent.
You're nothing but a human spawn, damn you!
Enraged, the angel lashed out a lightning strike in defense.
KRA-BOOM!
At that thunderous crack of lightning, Shuri and the priests nearby all shrieked in terror.
"Isaac!!"
Shuri, sprinting toward the scene, went white-faced in particular. The moment their master came under attack, the bound Fourteen Six Demons went berserk, raging like mad beasts.
Yet the angel, having loosed his strike, exhaled and wiped the sweat from his brow, as if he'd exerted himself.
Well, the God of Punishment's power was lightning, so the noise had been deafening—but at least he'd restrained himself.
Injuring a Saint candidate, no matter the circumstances, would have meant disciplinary review. As proof of that, the moment the dust began to settle, the angel clicked his tongue.
Don't be alarmed. I merely neutralized the Saintess's power—
"KYAAAHH!!"
...Kyah?
The angel broke out in a cold sweat at the piercing screams of the distinguished guests.
What? Why were the humans screaming?
"Good heavens, what a monstrous atrocity!"
...Atrocity??
"Isaac! Are you alive?!"
Why were the priests running over with faces pale as death?
But soon, gazing upon Isaac, the angel had no choice but to doubt his own eyes.
...So, um... something's wrong here.
He'd only neutralized the Saintess's power. So why was the kid covered in blood?
Uh... uhh?
Meanwhile, Shuri scooped up the crumpled Isaac in his arms and glared at the angel with eyes that promised murder.
"How could a messenger of God commit sacrilege against a servant of God!"
...What?! Sacrilege?!
He had no idea what they were talking about, but the fallen Isaac was wheezing with labored breaths.
"It's... it's my fault. I was an idiot and mistook a noble messenger of God for a demon."
"Isaac!"
"It's my just deserts, so don't be angry. Koff! Koff!"
The moment Isaac coughed up blood, Shuri's mind simply stopped.
At the sight, the angel only grew more bewildered. No, there was no way the kid should be coughing blood, right? Wait—where had that blood even come from?!
But as Kina channeled healing holy arts into Isaac, her gaze shifted—turned to steel.
"Strange. A messenger of God would never use sacrilege against priests."
Ice-cold.
The eyes of the swarming priests were frigid.
And Shuri in particular looked genuinely furious.
He had reason to. Whatever divinity that messenger served, it was the God of Punishment—the faith of the enemy. In a word: they'd just been beaten up by someone else's god, and nobody was happy about it.
No, it went beyond that.
"The strong shouldn't treat the weak like this!"
—!
The angel was indignant.
Weak? Then what was that oppressive presence I felt just now?!
Kina, seething, piled on another layer.
"The faith of the enemy truly is gutter trash."
Naiser, who had been standing quietly by and beaten up alongside everyone else, was fuming.
"And why are WE getting hit?!"
"Our Gold God would never do such a thing."
"The hell did you say?!"
"See? A servant really is better than a lackey."
Is this bastard out of his mind?
But Kina only glared at the messenger of God with open suspicion. She had every reason to: only the gods themselves held the right to punish humans.
"A messenger of God using sacrilege against a servant of God is impossible. Sacrilege is permitted to demons and demons alone."
—No. I never used sacrilege.
"Then why is he lying here bleeding?"
—That's what I'd like to know, actually?
"More to the point—why did an unscheduled messenger of God interfere with the execution?"
—What?
The angel's face stiffened as something in Kina's words clicked immediately.
This brat—don't tell me.
—House Eshua said it themselves. The demons attacked everyone except that angel.
—!
In truth, that had all been Isaac's doing—but there was no way the angel could know that, so he had no choice but to feel wronged.
—Hand over that brat. Investigate the brat, and the answer will reveal itself.
All the keys to this mystery had to be in that kid's hands.
Besides, the angel couldn't stop thinking about the aura he'd felt from Isaac earlier. For him to feel fear, it was nearly impossible unless the culprit was a demon.
—I will take him before my master for investigation—
But right at that moment—
The fallen Isaac slowly curled his lips upward.
The instant the angel saw that smile, a chill ran down his spine. And a moment later, something astonishing happened.
Clank.
With the sound of chains coming undone, a monstrous demonic power surged skyward.
Power incomparable to anything before it shook the Execution Grounds to its foundations.
THOOM!
The suffocating demonic aura tore through the floor, the pillars, the walls. In an instant, the arena dissolved into chaos, a roar of thunder and screaming mingled together.
"No! The Fourteen Six Demons' seal is broken!"
"What?! Why did THAT come undone?!"
"Wasn't it bound with the fetters of the God Realm?!"
Dammit—what did you say?!
The Fourteen Six Demons had been released?
Dammit all, that brat isn't the problem anymore.
If the Fourteen Six Demons slipped away, it was over!
He had to deal with them immediately.
Just as the flustered angel turned to act—
He froze.
His back went cold. He didn't need to look to know. The freed Fourteen Six Demons were glinting their eyes behind him and—fuck, what did it just say?!
And perhaps incensed that someone had laid hands on their precious master, the Fourteen Six Demons, steeped in sinister demonic aura, each spoke a single, murderous line—
"Thank you. Thanks to your plan, we were able to escape."
...Hold on. What did you say?!
But before the angel could so much as object, the hands of the Fourteen Six Demons closed over his face.