Chapter 391: The Lightning Didn't Fall from the Sky - 10
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 391: The Lightning Didn't Fall from the Sky - 10
At one point during her fierce battle with Shei, the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka felt an unpleasant sensation.
It wasn't because of Shei. It was an irritating feeling, like needles pricking her skin. More often than not, a feeling like this meant someone nearby was communing with a god. A Saintess, or their subordinates, the Crusaders.
Tyrkanzyaka stopped her attack and glanced to one side. In doing so, she was crushed by a chunk of rock she failed to notice, but she shrugged off the impact as if it were nothing, her form regenerating as she stared into the Cloud Waterfall.
“…This is.”
“Focus!”
When her opponent suddenly lost interest mid-fight, the incensed Regressor raged and shouted. But Tyrkanzyaka had already withdrawn her attention from Shei.
“There's an order to things, even in a fight. Stand down. Something else has come up that I must attend to first.”
“You started this fight whenever you pleased, and now you're trying to back out? Are you running away?”
“Think what you will.”
Shei was undoubtedly connected to the Sanctum. Perhaps she was a Saintess, as Hilde had said, or at the very least, a Crusader. Logically, that was the correct answer.
But that was a fact that could be ignored. Until now, Shei had neither used Holy Power nor seen the future. Had she shown even the slightest hint of it, the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka would have noticed immediately and attacked. In other words, as long as she didn't show her hand, Tyrkanzyaka could choose not to attack.
Unlike Shei, whose fate depended on Tyr's mood, this unpleasant sensation was real. The nauseating stench of a Saintess was spreading thick in the air. Tyrkanzyaka turned away, as if she had no more interest in Shei.
“If you wish, I will indulge you when this is all over. But for now…”
A distant gaze, as if looking down upon all of creation, pierced through the Progenitor. This discomfort. It was a gaze that seemed to condescendingly understand all her anger, her wounds, and her anguish, only to dismiss it all as fate.
There was no mistaking it now. This was a Saintess. The Progenitor's arch-nemesis.
The enraged Progenitor bristled, her aura sharpening. Anything that approached her carelessly would be reduced to a pool of blood. Not that there were any humans foolish enough to approach the Progenitor when she was angry.
“This humble servant has come, answering the call.”
But what if it was the will of a god?
A gust of wind seemed to blow past, and then a fist slammed into Tyrkanzyaka's face.
Tyrkanzyaka's body shot through the air like a cannonball. Nearly ten seconds passed before her airborne body hit the ground, having traveled dozens of meters. Tumbling and scraping across the earth, Tyrkanzyaka only came to a stop when she crashed into the outer wall of Claudia.
The Progenitor, the terror of humanity, had been repelled. This incredible feat was accomplished by a small, bandaged fist. Shei recognized its owner and muttered.
“Feruel?”
Feruel, the Saintess of Steel. With her hood pulled down low, she saw Shei and gave a small nod.
“One who stands against the great enemy. This, too, must be the guidance of fate.”
“What? Why are you here?”
“There is no need to ask why. That this humble servant is here means there is a need for this humble servant. My purpose will reveal itself in due time.”
Shei knew Feruel. Over several regressions, she had encountered the Saintesses countless times. Though she had never interacted with Feruel, the Saintess of Steel, on a personal level, she had come to understand her all too well.
Shei stopped asking questions. She knew who—and what—Feruel was.
“How dare a mere servant of the Sky God show herself before meeee!”
And so, when Tyrkanzyaka emerged, wreathed in darkness, to attack Feruel, Shei found herself worrying not for the girl who had to face the Progenitor's wrath... but for Tyrkanzyaka who was attacking her.
“If you truly wish to die, then I shall grant your wish!”
Tyrkanzyaka's claws, sharp enough to shred steel, descended upon Feruel. They would have been powerful enough even before the Progenitor had regained her heart, but now, their strength was incomparable.
But against this one person, the Saintess of Steel… her attacks would have been far more effective before she had regained her heart.
Feruel stood perfectly still. She made no attempt to dodge or block Tyrkanzyaka's strike. With her eyes wide open, she simply watched the claws flying toward her.
A moment later, a body was crushed. Tyrkanzyaka's arm, unable to withstand its own force, shattered. Standing unharmed amidst the scattering spray of blood, the Saintess of Steel clenched her bandaged fist and murmured.
“It is not yet time for this humble servant to die. Such a future has not arrived.”
The future the Saintess of Steel sees is slightly different from that of the other Saintesses. While they observe all of creation to orchestrate fate, Feruel observes her own future—where her body will be and what it will be doing.
A pitiful, weak creature, even upon receiving a revelation, cannot act on it. They doubt, and doubt again, fearing that their faith might lead them to their death, and in the end, they forsake that faith.
But Feruel, blessed by the Saintess of Origin, is different.
To see, to believe, and to act—all is the will of her god.
A future already decided protects her.
The Saintess of Steel threw another punch.
The future observed by the Saintess of Steel will come to pass, no matter the obstacle. It makes no difference whether the Progenitor or a great mountain stands in her way.
Her fist treated Tyrkanzyaka as if she weren't even there. The Saintess's fist pierced through space itself. Shoving aside the sinister being that dared to occupy the space where the Saintess was meant to be, the present caught up with the determined future.
Tyrkanzyaka's arm shatters. Unable to endure the combination of Feruel's power and the rebound of its own, her body disintegrates and scatters. The shockwave rocks Tyrkanzyaka's body, sending her flying once more.
To repel the Progenitor twice was a feat that would have astounded any other human, but to Feruel, it was merely common sense.
“In a crude battle of force, this humble servant cannot be defeated. Progenitor, I know not what changes have befallen you, but if you are what sent me here, then that, too, is guidance.”
Unstoppable, therefore indomitable.
Unrivaled, therefore invincible.
As the one who manifests the will of her god in the world, she is the strongest of the Sanctum.
…However.
“Is being tough all there is to you?!”
The body that had been blown to pieces rewound time. Blood coalesced into form, and scattered flesh found its way back to its proper place. Her right arm and the entire section of her chest, which had vanished without a trace, returned to normal as if they had never been damaged.
She does not die. A vampire's immortality is not durability, but regeneration. Even if shattered for a moment, she will return to her original state.
To defeat a vampire, one must utilize certain historically proven spells, but most of them are ineffective against the Progenitor.
Darkness swelled from the Progenitor. It was a darkness meant to blind the eyes of the Sky God. It would have no effect on Feruel, who observed only herself, but it was an irritating power nonetheless. Feruel met the Progenitor’s gaze with dry eyes.
“No matter what you try, you cannot harm this humble servant… but it will likely take a full day for you to realize that.”
“A day?! You lack patience. I can do this for ten years!”
With a shout that held no bluff, only sincerity, Tyrkanzyaka swallowed Feruel in darkness. Their duel vanished to a place where none could see.
[The Progenitor, she is cliché and old-fashioned. Unable to endure a thousand years, she turned herself into a mere phenomenon.]
Slandering vampires was a daily routine for anyone with even a shred of faith. Hilde nodded, partially agreeing.
“Well, she is getting on in years, can't be helped~.”
[The slightest poke and she moves exactly as you want. She struggles to escape fate, yet she does nothing but dance in its palm.]
“Sigh. You're right. She's never helpful when it counts. Is this another bust, then~? I knew it. Any backup for me?”
[Of course, there will be no backup for you.]
The Thunderarch snapped her fingers. Lightning flashed and thunder roared. From within the thick, vision-obscuring mist, those who recognized the signal quickly rushed over.
“Lady Thunderarch.”
A great deal of time had passed. Enough for the city, thrown into chaos, to muster its forces and seek out the Thunderarch.
The Guardians of Thunder no longer treated this as a simple accident. They gathered their troops with battle in mind and sought out their commander.
Claudia's direct military force, protectors of the city's peace. Having seen the Thunderarch's signal, they marched forward with steady steps.
The Thunderarch spoke to them.
[Is the evacuation complete?]
“Yes. The disciples are leading the citizens. Most of the Guardians are gathering here, but… is this an enemy attack?”
At the Guardians’ question, the Thunderarch nodded in affirmation.
[It is. Fulfill your duties.]
“Then we will prepare for battle.”
At her command, the Guardians of Thunder unleashed lightning in unison.
Individually, they could not match the Thunderarch, but they were all wielders of thunderous power. Lightning gathered in their arms or on the weapons they held.
Among them, one of the Guardians raised a long spear overhead. Crackle. A small bolt of lightning shot upward. The small signal he sent awakened a massive apparatus that kept the city functioning.
The Thundermill. The lightning-powered water wheel that ran the city had transformed into a weapon to smite its enemies.
CRASH, CRASH, CRASH. Giant steel stakes fell from the sky. Lightning coursed down the stakes, which had driven themselves deep into the wet earth.
The power of the entire city was gathering in one place. A difference in power so vast that no single individual could possibly hope to overcome it. Hilde whistled at the electrifying sensation rising from beneath her feet.
“Phew~. So you're trying to monopolize this incredible power by silencing us~, is that it?”
[You are not just stained by sin, you are steeped in it. This is not power, but a curse. I suppose even a curse looks like power to a heretic.]
“You look pretty healthy for someone under a curse~?”
[That is thanks to the grace of our god.]
The Thunderarch, now wreathed in lightning drawn from across the city, looked less like a human and more like an angel. Her outstretched wings spanned more than ten meters, and including the crackling arcs of lightning, they were too vast to be taken in at a single glance. The lightning she wore was so powerful that her feet no longer even touched the ground.
This was the maximum power the woman known as the Thunderarch could wield. A power blessed by fate, one that not even Hilde could defeat. Hilde twirled two holy swords in her hands and said.
“Are you sure you want to come closer? The Witherarch is here, you know.”
The Thunderarch's gaze briefly shifted to Peru. To the owner of the Golden Bell, who was hiding behind a hastily constructed steel wall near the Thunderarch, her face pale.
Even without the Golden Bell, Peru's power was terrifying by its mere existence. The Thunderarch, who knew the secrets of the Fallen Dominion, knew this better than anyone.
The power of Wither… could crumble even humans to dust. Living beings had some resistance to the power of Wither, but for the people of the Fallen Dominion, who carried alchemical substances in their bodies, even that was meaningless. If Peru so wished, she could kill all the Guardians of Thunder in an instant. She could reduce them to dust, leaving not even a corpse behind, desecrating their very lives and souls.
Peru should have been on the side of the Fallen Dominion. But there was nothing to be done about the different choice she had made.
[If her professed belief in value is genuine, she will not use that power on humans. It would be an act that destroys value itself.]
Instead, the Thunderarch calmly ordered the advance.
[Go. Avoid attacking the Witherarch, if possible.]
Clank. Clank. The Thunderarch stood at the front, her forces approaching from behind, radiating killing intent. Peru had managed to erect a wall of sorts, but it was bound to fall eventually.
“Haaah. I guess it can't be helped~. Looks like I'll have to fight a lonely battle~.”
As she said this, Hilde suddenly threw the holy swords. The daggers flew like a swarm of locusts, aiming for the Thunderarch's head. But the Thunderarch simply tilted her head back, easily dodging them. They pierced nothing but an afterimage of lightning.
She could have deflected them, but there was no reason to let herself be hit by holy swords whose abilities were unknown. The Thunderarch glanced at the swords as they flew past and vanished into the distance, muttering.
[Today, I will put an end to this here.]
“Hmm~. Fighting with a gang like cowards, this is why…”
Hilde glanced at Peru. Things might be different if Peru was prepared to destroy even humans, but she had no such intention.
It didn't matter. Peru wasn't the one Hilde had been counting on in the first place.
“I guess I don't have to feel guilty, then! I thought we were the only ones fighting dirty!”
[We?]
“I~ haven't just been sitting around, you know!”
The thunderous footsteps of the Guardians of Thunder were drowned out. Something far more terrifying and ominous was approaching from a greater distance. Not from Claudia, but from the opposite direction. Parting the mists of the Cloud Waterfall.
Beyond the Mistveil Range live the vampires.
Today, humanity would be forced to remember that fact.