Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: The Twelve Archbishops
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Twelve Archbishops.
The pinnacle of the temples that preached the gospel of the Golden Lion Church across the vast lands of the Empire.
If all real authority in the Holy Empire truly rested with the Emperor, then these were the hands and feet of the Pope, the spiritual pillar of the Imperial citizens.
And the young—no, boyish—Archbishop who had appeared here now...
Would soon become the Empire's greatest Pope and, to the Alliance, the worst demon imaginable.
"Oh dear, oh dear! These poor lambs have frozen solid in terror. To frighten these foolish lambs still lost in their sweet dreams... As a shepherd who must warmly guide these lost little ones, I feel my own profound shortcomings!"
The man knelt before the corpse of a knight reduced to a puddle of blood and offered a prayer.
"Yet this too is a trial bestowed upon me by the Lord! Oh, this humble servant shall gladly accept Your trial!"
The Holy Knights who had turned the attacking knight into minced meat stood silently behind the Archbishop, their swords already sheathed.
From the auras they exuded, they were clearly elites of at least the 10th rank or higher.
A formidable foe, no doubt.
'But manageable.'
No, better than that—it was perfect.
If the opponents were a Holy Knight Order of the 10th rank, then the Marquis household's knights couldn't hide their power forever just to watch from the sidelines.
Besides, Livia—though destined to be called the Demon Pope and one of the throne's masters in the future...
'Not yet.'
This was the perfect chance to eliminate a troublesome enemy.
"Livia, was it?"
"Hm?"
As I stepped forward and asked, Livia's eyes snapped open from his prayer.
"Oh dear, oh dear. It seems this worm's name has properly reached the lamb! Indeed, I am Livia, humbly occupying the seat of the White Sheep Palace among the Empire's twelve pillars. So you have heard, little lamb."
White Sheep Palace.
Among the positions of the Archbishops, drawn from the Holy Empire's calendar—the Zodiac Twelve Palaces—it was the seat reserved for the one with the brightest future.
The position Livia held just before ascending to Pope in the past was the Lion Palace, granted only to the bishop with the strongest holy power.
The fact that he now held the White Sheep Palace meant, in other words, that he was still unripe, not yet fully matured.
My prior conviction grew even stronger.
'Take him down right here, right now.'
I relaxed my muscles and slowly assumed my stance.
"Hmm? That stance... Pankration, is it? Ah! You must be Young Master Jerome!"
Livia reacted with the delight of reuniting with an old friend.
"You know me?"
"Kekekeke! Of course! How could I not know the stubborn lamb who's thwarted the Empire's affairs time and again, little lamb?"
Livia made the sign of the cross as he spoke.
"To have the chance to correct the vermin that's ceaselessly obstructed the holy journey of Our Lord and the Princess—no one but this humble servant. Surely this is the Lord's glorious guidance."
As Livia raised his hand after making the sign, the Holy Knights began to move.
Thud, thud, thud!
Movements like emotionless puppets, devoid of words or any hint of joy, sorrow, love, or hate.
No one knew it yet, but in the great war to come, this Holy Knight Order would become the symbol of fanaticism, striking terror into the hearts of ordinary soldiers.
'The 13th Holy Knight Order, huh.'
"Then, offer up your life, little lamb. Your blood and flesh shall become holy offerings to the Lord—a chance to receive His glorious oracle."
"An offering, you say? Try it if you can, you lunatic bishop."
Livia smiled faintly at my words, then thrust his hand forward.
Fwaaah!
Taking it as the attack signal, the 13th Holy Knight Order charged with expressionless faces.
"Miron, Sir Mark. Handle them. I'll go for the bishop called Livia."
"Yes, Young Master! Leave it to me!"
"Yes?! Young Master Jerome, but...?! Urk!"
Unlike Miron, Sir Mark tried to say something to me, but Miron's booming shout and the 13th Order's relentless swords left him no chance to respond as he blocked them.
"Oh my! The other lambs who came with you put up quite the fight."
"Not the time to be smiling, is it?"
I slammed an Iron Leg Kick straight into the obnoxious, grinning face of Livia.
"Job."
Confirming my movement, Livia flicked his fingers again, and a translucent shield reformed.
Kwaaaaang!
My aura-clad leg, wrapped in Iron Body, collided head-on with the bishop-level holy shield, erupting in a massive boom and sending up a cloud of dust from the audience chamber floor.
It was a kick that had even pushed back knights like Yungen or Mikhail, carving furrows in the ground.
Yet as if to prove the title of Twelve Archbishops wasn't handed out lightly, Livia's body didn't budge an inch.
"Kekekeke, sorry, but it seems I can still smile, little lamb. Now, shall we properly preach the gospel...?!"
Livia tried to retort leisurely after blocking Jerome's kick, but his expression froze as he saw the crack in the shield before him.
'A crack... in my shield?'
In the Empire, aside from the three dukes or sword masters, few could even scratch his shield. For a seemingly twenty-year-old youth's ordinary kick to crack it...
The smile vanished from Livia's face.
"Well, well. Far more dangerous than I thought—a lamb? No, a wolf. This humble servant shall now zealously reform this heresy-tainted wolf."
Maintaining the cracked shield, Livia clasped his hands and drew up holy power.
A massive surge of holy power gathered at the ceiling above my head.
"Mad dogs—no, wolves—are tamed with the rod!"
Livia's holy power sluggishly formed a gigantic fist.
"Repent, you heretic scum! Divine Fist!!"
Kurrrung!
With a majestic roar, a colossal energy like the fist of a god plummeted straight toward me.
For any ordinary human, it was a force that would crush them instantly without resistance, turning them to a puddle of blood.
Kwaaaaaang!
The center of the audience chamber exploded, pulverizing priceless treasures, but Livia paid it no mind.
They were worthless heretic trinkets made by lowly heretics anyway. Better to convert even one heretic to the Lord's embrace than fuss over preserving such trash.
Kugugugu....
The shockwave from Livia's Divine Fist halted the battle between the 13th Holy Knight Order and the Marquis household knights momentarily.
But only for a moment.
The 13th, loyal only to Livia's command, seemed ignorant of the word "stalemate" as they swung their swords anew.
Mark, the Marquis knights, and Miron couldn't spare glances into the dust cloud amid the mechanical swordplay of the Holy Knights.
And the 13th Order cared for nothing but Livia's orders from the start.
Thus, no one present—except Livia—saw it.
Jerome's body, pitch-black and unscathed, emitting an ominous glow.
"A black... wall?"
"Hoo, Divine Fist already... I didn't expect to see that terrifying technique so soon."
Shrrk!
Jerome tore off his shredded shirt completely as he spoke.
But Livia was more shocked by Jerome's alien bodily transformation than by him casually blocking the technique.
In Livia's mind flashed the oracle the Lord had once relayed through Ibarella in a private audience.
-The time to spread My gospel across the world has come, yet a black, unyielding wall appears, dimming the gospel's light.
"Black and unyielding wall... So it is you. You!"
Livia's face twisted like a demon's.
"You're the demon blocking the Lord's gospel on this continent!"
Livia abandoned any mercy for guiding the lamb.
This was no mere lamb, but the demon from the Empire's oracle itself.
Then, no reforming—only total extermination with full power!
As Livia drew up holy power, compressed holy bullets formed around him.
Holy Bullet.
Holy projectiles to judge the Empire's heretic foes.
Their condensed might rivaled a knight's aura or a mage's 6th-circle spell.
To wield such holy magic before thirty—truly worthy of the White Sheep Palace among the Twelve Archbishops.
"Die!!"
Pfwaang!
The compressed bullets erupted with the sole purpose of claiming Jerome's life.
Innumerable projectiles from his endless holy power.
Each one's power made it Livia's ultimate anti-personnel weapon.
Deploying this holy magic signaled his iron will to kill Jerome right here.
'Well, same to you.'
Jerome shared the resolve to finish Livia here as well.
And against Jerome, Holy Bullet was the worst choice for efficiency.
Moon Step.
Pankration's fluid footwork, graceful as moonlight, was perfect for evading complex, multifaceted attacks like these.
Jerome's Iron Body nullified all but the heaviest blows.
Area blasts like Divine Fist were trouble, but dispersed anti-personnel magic?
'Useless against me.'
Clangclangclangclang!
Moon Step dodged most bullets; the rest were batted away or tanked by Iron Body.
Even dodging most, the sheer volume sparked off his body everywhere.
Worthily, this was Livia—the future Pope who earned the title of strongest Lion Palace pre-ascension.
At such a young age, to wield endless barrages like this.
His holy power's quantity and quality outclassed peer priests entirely.
Thus, Jerome's conviction deepened.
If not slain here, this guy would be an enormous pain in this life too!
"Eee! Slippery as an eel!"
As ruthless bullets failed to keep distance, irritation and impatience showed on Livia's face.
He could no longer hide his anxiety at ineffective attacks.
Of course—at his age climbing to Archbishop, he'd never been cornered like this.
The past Livia, battle-hardened to Lion Palace, might differ, but now he was just green.
"Time to end this!"
As I closed in, nullifying most bullets, Livia scowled deeper.
"Shield!"
Intending to stall with a shield since bullets failed.
"Useless!"
Twisting force from ankle to shin, thigh, waist, shoulder, hand.
The recoil fused wholly with my fist's aura, thrusting toward Livia.
Vortex.
Its destructive power shattered Livia's shield to ravage his flesh.
Shatter!
The shield that withstood Iron Leg Kick now splintered like glass.
Livia gnashed his teeth at its easy breach.
"Eeek! You arrogant heretic worm!! Don't underestimate me!!"
He assumed a stance, infusing hands and feet with holy power.
As expected of an Archbishop—Monk training couldn't be neglected.
His holy-infused punches were sharp enough.
The future Demon Pope's moves would be formidable, sure.
But now? Just an unripe child's flailing.
Before me, that is.
Nothing more than a child's futile rebellion.
Kwachik!
"Gaaahk!"
Steeling my fist, I smashed Livia's shoulder; bones cracked, eliciting a shrill scream.
He'd trained in combat, but raw pain like this? His mind shattered from mere fracture.
I didn't miss the gap, swinging a hand blade at his throat.
Slash!