Chapter 279: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (72)
Chapter 279: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (72)
Reynold, one of the only two Archmages of the Lainella Family.
He was likely the one acting as the core of that massive magic circle.
Despite that, he spoke without showing even a hint of exhaustion. Elsie, however, remained utterly dazed.
"If not, do you intend to just let Young Master Ian die? I can only keep that monster bound for a few minutes."
At those words, Elsie snapped out of her stupor and hurriedly pulled out a potion, gulping it down.
A trickle of mana began to circulate through her parched veins. A sharp pain flared in her ruptured vessels, but Elsie barely registered it.
Seeing the wary look on Elsie’s face, Reynold wore a bitter smile.
"Still as ill-mannered as ever. If an elder of the family helps you, you should at least offer a word of thanks."
"I—I am not a 'Lainella'..."
"You are a Lainella."
Reynold’s tone was perfectly flat. His voice carried a heavy sense of conviction, as if confirming a fact that would never change.
"Because you are a Lainella, you are that stubborn and fierce-tempered. Tsk, tsk. I wonder how you’ll ever raise children when you get married..."
"...Master!"
But Reynold’s nagging didn't even register in Elsie’s ears. She looked ready to sprint toward Ian at any moment. It was Reynold who held her back.
"Stop. Approaching recklessly will only result in a waste of strength. I’ve invested most of my mana into the magic binding that monster, so you needn't worry for a few minutes."
"W-What about after those few minutes?!"
In response to Elsie’s urgent question, Reynold simply gestured toward a certain direction with his eyes. As Elsie followed his gaze, Reynold added a clarification.
"Elsie, did I not tell you? To become an Archmage, you must first broaden your perspective... It seems you’ve just experienced your limits, so from now on, you must focus on that."
In that direction, a brilliant white radiance was surging.
Someone was kneeling, offering a prayer.
Silver hair, pale pink eyes.
Reynold continued speaking nonchalantly, his hands tucked behind his back.
"Once that ritual is complete, we will immediately charge in, joining forces with the Haster girl who left first and the private soldiers of the Yurdina Family. We’ll clear the perimeter and pull Young Master Ian out."
He let out a faint, bitter chuckle.
"...This, too, is a talent. To think everyone who tried to flee has gathered here."
His voice was so overly optimistic about the future that Elsie was suddenly seized by anxiety.
Would it really work?
The man who couldn't possibly have failed to account for all their combined strength had said:
‘We have to abandon the territory.’
Whether that man was right, or whether her Master, who stood against that monster, was right—the time for the result to be revealed had come.
*
The Saintess’s face had turned deathly pale.
Her heart had been wrung with the fear that Ian might die. Only now did she realize that anxiety could be such an intense and terrifying emotion.
It was only after the Lainella Family’s magical warfare unit arrived to relay the general plan, and the chains of electrification struck down from the sky, that the Saintess finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Yuren looked at the Saintess as she began the ritual with a dissatisfied gaze. He asked, "...Sister, shouldn't we at least save a little?"
"Immanuel."
It meant she would do as God willed. In other words, she wouldn't save a single drop.
Yuren immediately slapped a hand to his forehead and let out a groan of agony.
"Good grief. We use that precious Blood Essence and we still can't catch a subordinate of the Evil God? And all we save is a single lower noble of the Empire?"
"...We might be able to defeat the subordinate of the Evil God as well."
At the Saintess’s faint rebuttal, Yuren flashed a thin smile. It was the expression he wore only when he was truly angry.
"Stop talking nonsense. As soon as the ritual is over, let's just grab Ian and bolt... okay?"
Blood Essence possessed immense value as a sacrifice. Furthermore, the one presiding over the ritual to offer it was the Saintess herself. No matter how powerful a subordinate of the Evil God was, it couldn't possibly emerge unscathed.
Nevertheless, Yuren remained entirely skeptical. The Saintess felt a bit piqued by his attitude, but time was of the essence.
She recited the prayer she had prepared.
"Lord, Your lamb is in the midst of hardship and tribulation... Please have mercy on our sins."
The pure white radiance traced a circle. This was the shape symbolizing the world, the sun, and Arus.
"I believe that life, death, and trials are one within Your will. Thus, Your beloved daughter dares to entreat You..."
A horizontal line was drawn across the center of the circle. This symbolized the earth, the scales, and the impartiality of Arus.
"As it is in Heaven, engrave Your grace upon the earth!"
Finally, a vertical line was drawn. It was the symbol representing humanity—the creations of Arus—and the strictness of the Heavenly God who judges good and evil.
The pure white Cross Formation was thus completed.
The finished formation immediately began to vibrate violently. Light surged like a storm, and a pillar of radiance fell in a straight line from the heavens.
The miracle occurred immediately afterward.
Kuaaaaaaaaagh!
The Corpse Giant, which hadn't budged until now, began to thrash its body wildly. It was enough to snap the sturdy chains of electrification one by one.
The blizzard cleared, and dazzling sunlight poured down from the sky.
Evil things shrieked just by touching those golden rays. Except for the corpses and the flesh chunks hiding in the shadows, all the subordinates of the Evil God melted away.
The Corpse Giant was no exception.
Melting into a viscous sludge, the Corpse Giant began to shrink in size. Its height decreased by ten percent, then thirty.
As more time passed, the Corpse Giant shrank to less than half its original size.
Even as the blizzard began to howl again, the Corpse Giant remained on its knees, unresponsive.
Seeing this, the Saintess clenched her fists.
"Yes!"
Now they could save Ian.
The mages of the Lainella Family moved busily. Celine, now free of obstacles, was finally sprinting at full tilt, and the mounted knights of the Yurdina Family kicked their horses into a full gallop.
The Saintess collapsed from exhaustion, overcome by relief.
As she sank to the ground, she let out a long breath, but then she turned a confused look toward Yuren.
Normally, Yuren should have dashed out by now as well. But he remained motionless.
"...Yuren?"
The face of Yuren that the Saintess glimpsed was paler than it had ever been. She slowly followed his gaze.
There, the melted chunks of flesh were overflowing in a gruesome, viscous sludge. At first, the Saintess couldn't understand Yuren’s anxiety.
But before long, she, too, was forced to realize.
Twitching, the melted flesh began to throb.
The Saintess’s eyes flew wide.
No way... it's moving? Still?
She thought they would be able to neutralize it for at least a while. Even if it was a monster with infinite regeneration, they had just poured the divine power of the Heavenly God—its natural antithesis—into it. It should have remained down for a significant amount of time.
However, their opponent was not a being governed by common sense.
Suddenly, a massive arm erupted from the swamp of flesh.
Uwoooooooooo—!
With a monstrous roar, the giant frame staggered to its feet. The momentum was so terrifying that the charging Yurdina knights flinched and ground to a halt.
It was the Corpse Giant.
Though its size had been reduced by more than half, its majesty remained intact. Every time the Corpse Giant shrieked, the scattered corpses nearby twitched in response.
A voice filled with disbelief escaped the Saintess’s lips.
"This is impossible..."
She had sacrificed the Blood Essence in its entirety. It was a treasure capable of saving anyone as long as they weren't already dead. Furthermore, the opponent had no means of resistance, as it had been bound by the Lainella mages.
And yet, it had resurrected.
Was that monster truly immortal?
That sense of despair was not felt by the Saintess alone. The refugees watching the situation, the Lainella mages preparing for the rescue—even the brave soldiers of the Yurdina Family stopped in their tracks.
Dismay was etched clearly on everyone’s faces.
It didn't take long for piercing screams to erupt from their mouths.
"...Ian!"
The Corpse Giant, driven into a frenzy, raised its hand. Perhaps because its size had decreased, its speed appeared twice as fast as before.
Before anyone could react, the Corpse Giant threw a punch.
The sonic boom that echoed a moment later was terrifying in itself. No one could possibly survive if they were hit by that strike.
The Saintess screamed, Elsie’s eyes went wide, and Seria froze.
And just as Celine squeezed her eyes shut, gasping for breath—
A strange silence descended upon the battlefield.
It was a sudden, absolute stillness.
One by one, questioning gazes turned toward the Corpse Giant.
If it had struck with such a massive fist, there should have been a corresponding shockwave or noise, but there was none.
The reason was revealed shortly after.
Slowly, the Corpse Giant’s fist was being pushed back.
It was a sight that defied belief. Even by simple weight alone, there were few humans who could lift that fist. Yet, to take that strike—combined with the Corpse Giant’s raw strength—head-on?
And yet, he had done it.
The man who had staggered to his feet had his teeth clenched so hard that his eyes were bloodshot.
He muttered a word of cryptic meaning to himself.
This is... Binding.
Uwooo?
As if unable to believe it, the Corpse Giant shook its head and looked down at its own fist again.
But no matter how much it looked, reality did not change.
It was being pushed back. Slowly, but surely.
The Corpse Giant could not accept the fact that it was being overpowered by a human it had looked down upon. It immediately let out a roar, retracted its fist, and threw another punch.
Just before another shrill scream could ring out—
The man kicked off the ground and shot forward.
It was an angle that put him in a direct collision with the fist. No one understood his intention at first.
The result, however, spoke for itself.
Crack!
A fissure appeared on the Corpse Giant’s fist. No, it wasn't just the fist.
Silver thread-like lines began to be etched everywhere, from the wrist to the forearm.
And in the next moment—
Kreeeeeeeeeeeeagh!
With a sharp shriek, the Corpse Giant’s arm, composed of hundreds of corpses, exploded.
Amidst the scattering pieces of flesh, the black-haired man was leaping through the air.
The man muttered to himself once more.
This is... Unbinding.
He finally knew. How many desperate battles had he endured to realize this principle?
At last, the man spoke to the Corpse Giant, spitting the words out.
"...I'm going to hit you exactly as much as you made me suffer."
Grinding his teeth, the man who had been dying gripped his sword once more.