Chapter 474: Proof of Existence (62)
Chapter 474: Proof of Existence (62)
"I... I can't bear this... Please, Ian... stop! The verdict is final! It's death! There's no other way! Don't make me any more miserable... I'm begging you!"
A solemn silence fell over the assembly.
Before them stood a woman pleading to be allowed to die. It was a desperate struggle to prevent yet another futile sacrifice.
How could anyone not be moved by such a sight?
The man, too, seemed to find it difficult to calm his racing heart, letting out a long, heavy breath. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to steady his mind.
When his golden eyes opened again, they were filled with an unwavering resolve.
"……Judge!"
He wasn't looking at the Saintess.
Sixteen pairs of eyes, perched atop the steep cliff, focused on the young knight. He spread his arms wide in appeal.
"What is the court's decision?"
The answer seemed obvious.
To anyone watching, Ian was being unreasonable. Logically and legally, the Saintess's judgment was correct.
A representative rejected by the very person they were meant to represent?
There was no precedent for such a thing. Just as the Pope, having reached his conclusion, was about to slowly shake his head—
"The prisoner's claim is correct. Your request for an Honor Trial cannot be accept—"
"Are you perhaps afraid of me?"
The old priest's words cut off, his eyes narrowing.
It was a provocation with a transparent intent.
However, it was effective. Tens of thousands of believers were witnessing this scene.
"The rules and authority you've built over a thousand years, looking down on us from your high cliffs as if you're superior! Did you not claim to be the agents of the Heavenly God? Are you afraid of a mere human like me?"
"……Impudent brat."
A low murmur of criticism was mixed with a sigh.
This argument made no sense from the start.
The prisoner wanted death. The court wanted the same.
Yet, one man was demanding death for himself. He was brushing aside the hand of the law that offered life, sharpening his blade and begging to be killed instead.
It was truly perverse.
Why was he being so stubborn?
Just as the Pope swallowed a groan of frustration—
"Open the Honor Trial!"
A heated voice rang out from somewhere.
It came from the crowd. The Pope and the other judges looked around in surprise for the source, but the cry was already spreading like wildfire.
"An Honor Trial! Open the Honor Trial!"
"He must be punished for insulting the authority of the Mountain Court!"
"Respect a knight's honor! Is the Holy Kingdom unable to even accept a challenge from a young knight?"
The Pope was stunned for a moment.
But as a seasoned politician, it didn't take long for him to grit his teeth. He realized the situation instantly.
There were instigators mixed in. They had tried to filter the crowd thoroughly, but there were tens of thousands of people. If someone was determined to hide agitators among them, the Holy Kingdom had no way to stop it.
Furthermore, even the jury was wavering. Someone among them had likely been tipped off in advance.
Which faction was behind this?
The Imperial Household wouldn't be crazy enough to support such a reckless challenge. Questions followed one after another, but it was already too late.
The roar of the crowd became an unprecedented tidal wave, crashing against the cliff.
"……Ugh!"
The booming shouts were so intense that several jurors groaned and staggered.
It was the exact opposite of before.
The court's authority could no longer suppress the masses. The collective yearning, spreading like a mass psychosis, was impossible to control by any means.
At their core, these people were 'spectators.' In other words, as long as there was something to watch, they didn't care what it was.
A rising star of the Empire challenging an 'Honor Trial'?
They wouldn't miss such a spectacle for the world. At this point, the Papacy had no path for retreat.
Must they eventually accept?
Drenched in bewilderment and fear, the Pope was glancing around when—
"……Would it not be fine?"
A single, plain sentence silenced the roar of the tens of thousands.
It was a sensation that made one's hair stand on end. The Pope instinctively turned his gaze behind him. No, above him.
At the very edge of the distant summit.
A boy with silver hair stood there.
His sky-blue eyes looked down upon the earth.
The crowd of tens of thousands froze, staring up at the peak. They looked like herbivores facing a predator.
Even their gazes were overwhelmed by the sheer difference in status.
"If they wish for it so much, we should grant it. Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find……."
Continuing in a languid tone, the sky-blue eyes flickered toward the old priest.
The Pope, his body trembling under that gaze, cried out.
"B-but, Saint!"
"If someone knocks, can those who follow the Lord be called his flock if they do not open the door?"
The Pope, who seemed to want to argue further, raised his voice only to snap his mouth shut.
The Saint wasn't wrong.
They were already backed into a corner. Tens of thousands of witnesses were watching this place.
Backing down now would only turn them into a laughingstock.
The Papacy had intended to reclaim its authority even if it meant sacrificing the Saintess. There was no longer any way out.
In the end, the Pope let out a heavy groan.
He cast one last look of pity. The young knight didn't know yet.
The Master who had sustained the Holy Kingdom for hundreds of years.
He would likely give up without even witnessing what that true power was like.
Then again, the match might be decided before he even reached the Saint.
Even at a glance, the man's body was a wreck. He was trying his best to appear composed, but he couldn't deceive the eyes of a veteran priest.
A sigh escaped involuntarily. Hoping it would end without too much injury, the Pope turned away and shouted.
"I declare the Honor Trial open! Faithful warriors who follow the will of the Heavenly God, draw your swords!"
Clang. The sound of a Holy Knight drawing his sword rang out.
How much could he do with that broken body? Curiosity flickered, but the Pope deliberately avoided looking back.
He didn't want to let his heart be swayed.
And immediately after the sensation of two men lunging off the ground—
"Gah!"
In an instant, a scream erupted.
The Pope's gaze turned blankly behind him. Down below, a single sword was sent spinning into the air.
A single exchange.
A cold shiver ran down the old priest's spine. He couldn't believe the scene filling his vision.
It wasn't just the Pope.
Tens of thousands of eyes and ears, the fifteen pairs of eyes on the cliff, and the pale pink pupils of the fallen woman.
All were directed toward the epicenter of the sound in disbelief.
After just one clash, a Holy Knight was kneeling on the ground.
A deep laceration was carved into his silver armor.
In front of him, the young knight spoke through ragged breaths.
"……Next."
Ian Percus was strong.
Stronger than the rumors suggested.
Every time light and flames erupted, a death cry inevitably followed.
"Ugh!"
That was the twelfth. No, the thirteenth?
Even my memory was becoming blurred. My vision, soaked in sweat, showed only indistinct boundaries.
My exhausted body was moving solely on instinct.
I was already at my limit. Knowing that much, I had to employ a different tactic than before.
Relying on the power of Aura.
Until recently, my Aura wasn't particularly strong. Though its power increased over time, it was ultimately like an empty can.
It wasn't even helpful when facing a martial artist of a similar level.
Rather, my strengths lay in various secret techniques and adaptability. I had never once thought of relying on the power of Aura to face an enemy.
But today, I had no choice.
Like a patched-up rag, the only parts of my body that were still intact were my meridian points.
And the result was surprising.
Once again, a Holy Knight lunged forward. As I struck them down one by one, I felt poignantly that the level of the enemies facing me was rising.
Look at this, right now.
My sword shot out, tracing a silver arc. It was the same strike that had defeated the first Holy Knight who rushed me.
But this opponent was different.
Clang! The sensation of a hammer striking stone vibrated through my arm. Time around me was already flowing slowly, and it was a slash that flew in with enough speed to be called a swift sword.
Even so, the opponent managed to parry my blade. He even bent his knees slightly to bleed the impact into the ground.
Then, riding the rebound of his joints, he came at me with a horizontal slash.
Blue Aura was blazing on that blade. It seemed he had prepared it as a decisive blow.
That was his mistake.
Clang! The following collision was even more intense. Unable to withstand my counterattack, the Holy Knight's sword flew into the air.
His wide eyes fixed on me.
It was understandable.
When the Auras of skilled swordsmen clashed, it was normal for them to push and pull. Such a result wouldn't occur without a significant gap in power.
It was thanks to the Secret of Unbinding.
The Auras that touched the silver galaxy were shattered and scattered. Shards of crystal poured down like fireflies.
Cutting, stabbing, and striking them down.
How many times had I swung my sword?
The sound of my panting breath buzzed through my brain. My lungs were screaming for more oxygen.
Before I knew it, the Holy Knights who had surrounded me were nowhere to be seen.
They were all just staring at me with eyes full of exhaustion and disbelief.
I felt like I was about to collapse, like I should collapse.
But who would want to face a madman who refused to fall and kept swinging his sword?
So, I forced the corners of my mouth up.
"Haah, haah... Next."
For the first time, a hint of hesitation appeared among the Holy Knights.
Someone had to step forward, but dozens of Holy Knights already lay fallen around me. Every single one of them was groaning from deep lacerations or fractures.
No matter how brave the Holy Knight Order was, they couldn't help but hesitate.
Should I go first, then?
Just as I tightened my grip on my sword—
"……Enough!"
The voice I had been waiting for rang out.