Chapter 242

Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 242

Chapter Title: The Star That Turned Its Back on the Light (10)

If 'Heavenly Punishment' had existed back in the game days, it would've been an instant-kill move.

A fall off a cliff, getting crushed under a boulder, or the final boss's annihilation pattern... An unavoidable death judgment. No matter how meticulously you'd raised your character to endgame levels, facing a system-intended death meant staring helplessly at a 'Game Over' screen. That's just how it worked.

Kadim had defied that common sense.

A counterblow the instant it struck, then another, and another, whipping back like a gale. The fiercely pouring beams of light were repeatedly nullified by even fiercer hammer strikes. The fragmented explosions scattered, laying waste only to the innocent plains.

Hendark stared at the sight, frozen like a soulless statue.

The Decagram witnessed more miracles and divine works than anyone in the church. Not just grand blessings and surreal stigmata powers, but even demonic curses being repelled. And Hendark was the eldest star with a lifetime of experience, having seen multiples of what others had.

Yet even all the astonishment from every miracle he'd beheld in his life couldn't match this single scene.

It wasn't a game mechanic, but he acutely understood that Heavenly Punishment was an 'instant-kill'. He'd experienced it firsthand due to the stigmata's constraints. Its power could incinerate steel-hard flesh and plate armor forged from black iron like paper, delivering soul-rending agony even at its mildest.

And yet, to block such Heavenly Punishment?

Not just weakened, but full-force bolts raining down like a thunderstorm, all perfectly parried?

What kind of power was that... Had it surpassed even Elga?

Of course not. Kadim could resist Heavenly Punishment purely through obsessive conjecture and observation, the Dwarven god's sacred weapon, superhuman reflexes, and... guts that felt like they'd burst out of his belly and been excised entirely.

It started with a hint from the dragon.

Back when the Lucaonia Kingdom warred with the land of the Forgotten God, Heavenly Punishment had weakened. Rapustran had chalked it up to the prolonged war, but Kadim focused elsewhere to seek the cause.

'Elga's followers... So, with the war reducing the number of 'believers', that bastard Elga's 'divinity' temporarily dropped?'

Every being had its way to elevate its 'rank'. Demons through pain and despair, humans through struggle against the strong. By the same logic, gods' 'divinity' fluctuating with their 'believers' wasn't surprising.

The reasoning went further.

Demons and humans gained more 'rank' from higher-ranked targets. Likewise, gods might gain more 'divinity' from high-rank believers or when their followers grew in rank.

It was more than a maybe—it was near-certain. Too many things fit this hypothesis. Why gods granted miracles, why the defeated Forgotten God lost divinity and name, why Elga with the most believers held the highest divinity...

Above all, the existence of the Decagram—Elga's agents slaughtering demons and heretics indiscriminately—and Atala's Great Warrior, agents elevating 'rank' by slaying strong foes indiscriminately.

Believers alone didn't determine 'divinity', surely. Otherwise, the continent would've been chaos with Elga zealots and other forced-faith cults rampant. But it was a major factor, leading to this conclusion.

Every time Elga's followers fell—especially mighty stars like them—the false Elga's 'divinity' would visibly wane...

...and Heavenly Punishment's power would weaken proportionally.

The prediction hit true. With half the stars fallen—10th, 9th, 8th, 7th, 3rd—its might was markedly weaker than when it overwhelmed dragons. Weak enough for the 'Star Pulverizer' to absorb the shock and counter.

The odd part was the 'Star that Calls Peace's' death. Kadim had confirmed the weakening by watching him die. But why would Elga strike a believer with Heavenly Punishment? It was self-sabotage, shaving its own divinity.

The answer came surprisingly quick.

'It saw my growth in rank from killing that guy as a bigger threat than losing a bit of divinity right now... I'm Atala's Great Warrior, proxy for another god, and a potential slayer of all its stars...'

But that led back to another chewed-over question: Why didn't Elga go all-out to kill him immediately?

Kadim had a straightforward answer for that too.

The false Elga couldn't kill him 'directly'...

Indeed, the current barrage of Elga's Heavenly Punishment held no killing intent. Just hollow malice, like a thug's empty threats. Even with some divinity lost, it should still be able to kill one like him...

The exact reason remained unknown. For now, he vaguely guessed it was protection from another heavenly god, 'Atala'.

Of course, it wasn't holding back on killing intent—it didn't care about crippling him. He'd already taken one hit in the great forest. Facing such an out-of-spec miracle without fear after that agony took extraordinary courage.

Yet Kadim wasn't just fearless; he taunted it.

"That's lukewarm. A poker heated in the furnace would burn hotter."

"When does the warmup end? This feeble spark can't be your all, surely."

Accumulate shock from the descending strike and release, accumulate from the next release and descend, release again, accumulate... He impassively repeated the process of repelling punishment with punishment, without a millimeter's error. The hammerhead glowed cherry-red, like a meteor friction-heating in the atmosphere.

Even as Heavenly Punishment grew fiercer, nothing changed. No—the hammer's erupting shocks scattered the focused barrage into wasteful stray shots.

In the end, the eye surveying the world raised the white flag first.

As if warning this was the last it'd overlook, it flung fierce flames before finally sinking beyond the horizon.

Kadim glared at the sun unyieldingly. He kept his eyes wide until his retinas filled with afterimages, only turning away once even the faint glow vanished.

He'd talked big, but it had been touch-and-go. His body was fine, but the 'Star Pulverizer' was the issue. The silver lump, abused by extreme heat and shock, was glowing hot and cracked like it'd shatter any second.

But it was needless worry.

Tzzzz... Tzzzzz...

Left alone briefly, the enchant inscriptions glowed, mending the cracks on their own. A special effect: 'self-repair' if the weapon broke.

"Ha."

Shock accumulation, stigmata-stripping, self-repair... Legendary grade wouldn't cut it. What kind of monster label had old man Ironhammer slapped on this... Kadim let out an exasperated sigh of admiration.

Compared to Hendark's shock, it was nothing.

"With arms like that, you couldn't even change your own pants."

"......"

"I only took 'stigmata' as payment, so I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠should return the arm."

The 'Hydra's Tattoo' effect lingered a bit. Kadim pulled out the Iron Blood Ghost, handed it to the one-armed man, and let him self-harm to heal. Hendark trembled, staring at his hand regrown like a sapling.

"Just who... who are you? An incarnation of the War God descended to earth? Or a terrestrial proxy fully entrusted with his powers? How... how could you stand against Heavenly Punishment... perform such absurd miracles..."

"......"

God, my ass. Freezing hell. Kadim snorted.

"Didn't I say? I'm a berserker gone mad to fit this mad world overrun by lunatics..."

"......"

"...Atala's Great Warrior, proxying the god of struggle and wilderness. The miracles you saw are fruits of dogged struggle, not some easy power granted by divine favor."

Even after the explanation, shock soaked his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mind. Hendark mumbled for a while before asking why he'd spare and heal a heretic like him.

The answer was simple. Respect for Hendark's 'struggle'—forsaking god for conviction at the end.

"All who struggle on the right path deserve Atala's Great Warrior's blessing. Even if it's one of Elga's stars."

"......"

"But you've turned from Elga now, so calling you one is wrong. With precedent like 'Gordon Who Turned from the Light', yours might be... 'The Star That Turned Its Back on the Light'."

Hendark was swept in a whirlwind of confusion.

'The Star That Turned Its Back on the Light'. Musing the name brought relief like shedding shackles and salvation, alongside loss like everything crumbling. It proved a lifetime of faith wasted.

...And stamped him unable to save his disciples.

But that was hasty.

"Believe in struggle."

"...Hm? What... what did you say?"

"Trust Atala, pursue truth. Continue your 'struggle' guiding the lost under the harsh wilderness laws."

"......"

"I swear on Atala's name. If you devote to struggle, I'll save your disciples by any means. Even if they're all slain by the archbishop... I'll dive to hell's pit bottom to retrieve them."

"...!!"

"Well, I already have some to rescue from hell anyway."

Kadim gazed calmly at the shocked face.

Unlike mocking the 'Star that Calls Peace', this was sincere. Such a noble powerhouse as a believer would surely boost Atala's 'divinity'. If Elga couldn't kill him due to Atala's protection, he needed to steadily grow followers, grudge against the War God aside.

Hendark couldn't easily compose himself.

Stigmata gone, he still instinctively knew Kadim spoke pure truth. That mighty warrior might truly crush the archbishop and 'Star that Devours Darkness', or plunge to hell's depths for the disciples.

Even so, embracing new faith wasn't easy.

"I... I've already betrayed one god I believed in. Less than half a day since abandoning lifelong faith... I lack confidence to serve another. No offense, but I don't see much difference between that false Elga and Atala..."

Kadim dismissed it like trivial.

"Elga and Atala are different. There's a huge gap."

"...What?"

"All who serve Atala get one chance to face him upon death. So I'm planning to cleave his skull in two then."

"......"

"Well, if you play it right, you might skewer Atala like a roast too."

Silence gripped him briefly at the mad declaration.

His aged eyes scanned the sky. No signs despite the blasphemy. The god of struggle and wilderness never obsessively watched earth, picked sadists crueler than demons as apostles, or smote resisters with punishment.

Finally, Hendark curled his lips, murmuring faintly like starlight.

"That's... pretty damn good."

The holy army led by the 'Star that Calls Peace' and the remnants of the allied forces under the 'Border Butcher'.

Their decisive battle stalled.

"“......”"

"“......”"

No helping it. Amid quaking earth, a massive spear piercing heaven, and Heavenly Punishment bombarding the land—how could anyone focus? Holy army and allies alike gawked like chicks witnessing apocalypse, staring at the distant scene.

Only the Arch Paladins, knowing stars' powers somewhat, grasped it.

The vanished giant spear, 'Holy Lance that Annihilates Lies', proved the 'Star that Pierces Truth' fought at full power. Only one foe warranted that from the 3rd star. Thus the conclusion:

The 'Star that Pierces Truth' and 'Demon of the Alliance' were locked in a deathmatch.

Forgetting past slights, the Arch Paladins prayed earnestly. May their leader win that fight.

"Lord of Eternal Light, Elga... Grant your star boundless strength..."

"Bestow courage and blessings to smite evil upon our captain... Lead to victory brighter than the sun..."

The demon had felled two Decagram. With whereabouts unknown, maybe even the 'Star that Calls Peace'. They stood no chance against that monster. All they could do was pray for Hendark's victory.

Fortunately, the heavens didn't abandon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them.

A hazy silhouette emerged from distant dark. Gray hair, scar-covered face, spear shaft in hand, battle-worn armor, unmistakable veteran poise.

"Th-the 'Star that Pierces Truth' returns! Captain victorious!"

"The star felled the demon!! Elga judged the demon!!"

"He who eternally watches from on high—all for the light!!"

The holy army turned festive instantly. Hands busily traced stigmata in prayer everywhere. Some even raised holy water canteens in toast.

Far too premature.

Hendark wasn't alone. Hard to see in night's dark, but a massive shadow loomed behind.

A barbarian's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠divine form that'd make demons piss themselves.

"...Huh?"

"What..."

―――――― Whooong!!

―――― Splaaat!!

Hammer and spear strikes that defied heaven hurtled toward the frozen holy knights.