Chapter 270: Mysophobia and Jealousy (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 270: Mysophobia and Jealousy (3)
Yuman stared blankly at the scene unfolding before his eyes.
It wasn't just Yuman.
The paladins, who until a moment ago had been looking down as if everything were over.
The priests, who had been channeling their divine power to stop the Seraphim of Jealousy until the very last second.
Even the people whose faces were etched with despair and helplessness.
Every single one of them was staring blankly at that sight.
A man standing with his back to the setting sun, boasting a pure white radiance.
A man who had created a Milky Way infused with the colors of the sunset across the sky.
The one standing in the center of the falling meteor shower.
Marquis Palatio.
““…….””
A blue meteor shower rained down from the twilight sky.
Brilliantly, beautifully.
And—
Rumble—!!
Destructively.
Hundreds, thousands of meteors from the heavens surged toward the Sin of Jealousy, which had only just begun its quickening, stripping away everything it possessed.
The wings that were meant to serve as nourishment.
The massive cocoon intended to bring its physical form to life.
It was as if the Goddess Sironia from the scriptures was purging all imperfect things from this earth.
“What on earth is—!”
Someone finally spoke.
However, no one replied.
The person who had uttered those words wasn't actually looking for an answer.
It was simply an exclamation of wonder.
A moment of infinitely pure adoration.
Everyone present shared the exact same emotion.
Amidst this, Yuman lowered his gaze toward Rosario.
A few meteors that had failed to hit the Seraphim were falling toward the city.
He grew tense for a moment, but then—
“!”
Suddenly, the meteors exploded in mid-air.
To be precise, they were helplessly blocked by an invisible, pure white holy emblem.
Yuman soon realized what it was.
It was the siege defense system that utilized Rosario’s divine power.
However.
‘The siege defense system should only be operational if at least two Cardinals are present—’
As the question arose, he suddenly remembered a scene from earlier.
The sight of Alon saying something to Yutia.
“Ah.”
Yuman realized that Yutia and Sergius were not here, and he let out a hollow laugh.
That meant Alon had already known.
From the moment he arrived, he knew things would turn out like this.
And so.
“So this is the Hidden Saint—”
Yuman looked at Alon with eyes that held a depth beyond mere awe.
“Fuu—”
As soon as the meteor shower ended, Alon immediately used the Flash Thunder God to land on the roof of the temple.
He promptly deactivated the Art of Defying Heaven and exhaled ragged, heavy breaths.
“Haa—”
His heart beat frantically, beyond his control.
His vision blurred and sharpened repeatedly, unable to find a focus.
‘Did I last 30 seconds...? 40? ...As expected, this is the limit without using Divinity.’
Alon thought as he wiped away the warm blood trickling from his nose.
‘But even this is a sufficient achievement. I was able to endure even without Divinity.’
Alon had not used Divinity in the previous formula.
In other words, he had used the formula after removing his safety locks.
The reason Alon had done something so dangerous—risking his brain melting or his mana hole exploding—was because he couldn't afford to use Divinity as lavishly as before.
The amount of Divinity gathered within him now was vastly different from the amount he had possessed back then.
Knowing that the battle against the Sins would not end with a single encounter, he had hoarded his Divinity.
‘...Still, I’m glad I achieved what I wanted.’
Alon looked up at the sky.
In the air was the Seraphim of Jealousy—no, the cocoon of the Sin, torn to rags and emitting a bizarre, grinding noise.
The cocoon had been completely shredded by Alon’s meteor shower before its body could even properly quicken.
‘I’ve done everything I can.’
Literally, he had done everything possible at this stage.
By targeting the exact moment the Seraphim of Jealousy mutated into a Sin, he had inflicted the maximum possible damage before it could fully manifest.
But what was actually more important than that was stealing the Awe that was supposed to fuel the Sin of Jealousy, and protecting the citizens who would have otherwise become Pure White Existences.
Unlike other Sins, the Sin of Jealousy grew stronger according to the Awe and Jealousy gathered by the Seraphim of Jealousy.
That was why Alon had intentionally revealed himself to everyone using the Flash Thunder God while activating the formula.
To steal as much of the Awe directed toward the creature as possible.
‘...It would have been better if I could have dragged it out a bit longer.’
The thought flashed through his mind, but Alon quickly pushed the regret aside.
Even if he had maintained the Art of Defying Heaven, he wouldn't have been able to completely finish off the Sin of Jealousy.
As far as he knew, once a Sin begins its quickening, no matter what attack is launched, it can only suffer damage near total destruction; it cannot be completely erased.
In other words, to kill a Sin that has already begun its quickening, one must ultimately witness its birth.
In fact, Alon had confirmed this while raining down the meteors earlier.
He saw that the cocoon of the Sin, after receiving a certain amount of damage, stopped taking hits at a certain point.
Despite being in reality, the Sin was being protected like a game object.
He felt the absurdity of its existence, but Alon steeled his heart.
Since things had turned out this way, it was something he eventually had to do.
“…….”
Alon watched the Sin, which had begun to slowly quicken even in its tattered state.
...Night was falling.
* * *
At that moment.
“This is a bit unpleasant, isn't it?”
The Apostle of Mysophobia—no, the Apostle of Jealousy—watched the Cardinals, paladins, and priests descending toward Rosario like an ebbing tide to help Alon. He frowned in displeasure and looked up at the sky.
Where his gaze landed, in the darkness where the sun had completely vanished behind the mountains, hung the tattered cocoon.
“...Marquis Palatio.”
The Apostle of Jealousy spat out the name as if chewing it, then roughly tapped the tree he was leaning against.
If it hadn't been for that man, everything would have gone according to plan.
The Seraphim of Jealousy, having devoured the priests, knights, and Cardinals of Rosario as sacrifices, would have bloomed successfully.
At the same time, by eliminating the military forces, it would have received a full measure of Awe and fear from the foolish humans, allowing it to awaken as a Sin.
By the time That Person manifested, His army would have completely blanketed Rosario.
But that perfect plan had gone up in smoke.
All because of a single man.
“No, to call him 'just' a man... his abilities are quite extraordinary.”
The Apostle looked at Alon, who stood tall on the roof of the temple.
His abilities were certainly beyond what the Apostle had grasped.
In fact, looking at that overwhelming display, even if it was only for a moment, he wondered if he had misjudged him from the start.
It was a sight so incredible that even he had been left agape.
‘I suppose I have no choice but to admit it.’
The Apostle readily conceded.
He had underestimated Marquis Palatio more than he thought.
The man was a much more significant person of interest than anticipated.
At the same time, he felt relieved.
Because he had set the stage even for a situation like this.
Snap!
The Apostle snapped his fingers as if enjoying himself.
And then.
Creeeeeak—!!!
From the empty ground, Pure White Existences—identical to those created by the Seraphim of Jealousy—began to burst through the earth.
It wasn't just where his gaze fell.
Across the entire region of Rosario, Pure White Existences were crawling up.
“Wha—What is this!”
“Aaaargh!”
The Apostle hummed as he heard the screams echoing from the capital of Rosario in the distance.
The Pure White Existences he had created through his authority.
These could not compare to the Pure White Existences created by the Seraphim, who was to be the Birth Body of Sin.
But that was fine.
Even if each individual was weak, they boasted an overwhelming number that more than compensated for it.
He had spent hundreds of years solely for this one moment, and the fruits of that labor were ripening and appearing now.
“Fuu—”
Desperate outcries.
Rampant screams.
As the shrieks layered upon one another, the Apostle’s face twitched with delight.
The Pure White Existences he had created would return the Awe—which had been diverted by that unexpected interference—back to That Person.
Listening to the sounds of his contingency plan functioning successfully, the Apostle reached out his hand and aimed at Alon atop the temple.
He was a cautious man by nature.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have acted this way, but the Apostle easily perceived that this moment was an opportunity.
Anyone could see that Alon was exhausted.
So much so that he wouldn't even notice a small spell.
‘If I take care of him now, there will be no one left to interfere with His birth.’
With that thought, the Apostle gathered mana at his fingertips.
Vroom—!
The moment the black mana began to gather, devouring the atmosphere and exerting a chilling power—
Boom! Boom—!!
Heavy explosions echoed in the Apostle’s ears.
A massive noise coming from far away—perhaps from a place his eyes couldn't even properly reach.
And then.
He saw it clearly.
Two lights surging toward him along the eastern and western outer walls of Rosario.
A golden light so bright it felt like it would blind him.
Something pitch black, as if it would suck him into the abyss, was flying toward him.
Realizing that something unusual was happening, the Apostle stopped gathering power and immediately fired his mana at Alon. In that instant, he realized two things.
First, the mana he had fired had been brushed away and vanished by the golden light before it could even clear the outer wall of Rosario.
And second—
Crack!
Countless black hands had grotesquely twisted his own hand, which had been reaching toward Alon—
Creeeeak—
And forced it to point back at the Apostle himself.
And then.
“Guh!?”
The next moment, as a terrible pain like his limbs being torn apart flared, the Apostle’s eyes flew wide.
Before him, two figures had already arrived.
“You son of a bitch, how dare you touch my brother—”
The Curse King, glaring at the Apostle with cold eyes while menacingly wreathed in endlessly flowing black hands.
And.
“Who are you?”
The Thunder God, his entire body enveloped in brilliant yellow lightning.