Faith 3
It happened in an instant. While Jack was still talking, Licht leaped onto the platform, drew his sword, channeled mana into it, and smashed the Isteria goddess statue.
Shards flew in all directions amid rising clouds of dust. Ranin whipped around reflexively. His heart plummeted at the explosive crash echoing through the space.
Yet the cathedral interior remained as silent as when they'd first entered. An undetectable soundproofing spell enveloped the front of the nave. Sound waves traveled through mediums like air or water as vibrations. By agitating the surrounding air with mana to sever those vibrations, they avoided detection.
Jack just stood there, mouth agape, mumbling in disbelief.
"Young master... even so, this is too much. Smashing the goddess statue? I get it was a do-or-die move, but you didn't have to go that far. We're totally busted now."
"Jack."
"Fuck, we're all dead. We were just gonna peek in quick..."
"Jack!"
"What?! You not getting how screwed we are?"
"Look ahead!"
Ranin shouted at Jack, who was clutching his head. Jack finally turned, face twisted in misery, and his eyes went wide.
"...An underground passage?"
Beneath the shattered Isteria statue lay a stairway descending into the depths. Only then did it click for Jack, and he blinked rapidly.
"So that underground cathedral..."
"The entrance is under the goddess statue. No wonder no one could find it."
Exactly as Ranin said. The passage led straight down from right under the statue on the platform at the nave's front. Moonlight filtered through the stained-glass windows ahead, illuminating the stairs. The bottom vanished into endless darkness.
Ranin stared at the sight for a moment before asking, "This kinda ruins any chance of sneaking out unnoticed. Young master Licht, wasn't there another way? They couldn't have smashed the statue every time they went down."
"There must be some special mechanism, but I doubt we'd have time to find it."
"Fair enough, then."
Ranin accepted it without argument. Sure, alternatives likely existed, but wasting the night searching for one wasn't feasible.
"Jack, get up. No time."
"This is blasphemy. We're done for..."
Jack grumbled, still glancing warily at the statue fragments, unable to fully buy in. Licht silently sheathed the Ascension Sword. With the motion, a small, brilliant white flame flickered to life.
He turned his head slightly, gaze fixed ahead, and said to the pair, "Let's go."
***
Stygian darkness blanketed the underground passage. The three sets of footsteps echoed heavily within.
Licht led, with Jack and Ranin following side by side.
"Deeper than I thought."
"Who'd guess Bailen Cathedral had a passage like this underground..."
"How the hell did that Sven guy even know?"
"He said he had ties to high priests. Which means priests below that rank have no clue about this secret space."
"Feels like things are getting messier by the minute..."
The passage was wide enough for four or five grown men abreast. No torches lit the way—only the pure white flame Licht had conjured illuminated the path ahead.
Growing bored with the silence, Jack spoke up again. "Something I've been wondering about for a while."
"......?"
"Young master, are you a swordsman or a mage? You mainly use the sword, but you're damn good with magic too. Magic swordsman or something?"
Ranin perked up his ears. It was a question he'd pondered but hesitated to ask, lest it be rude. Jack had voiced it for him, naturally piquing his interest.
"......"
But Licht offered no reply. As silence stretched, Jack cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Ahem. Uh, you don't have to answer if you don't want. Just curious, is all. Sorry if it rubbed you the wrong way..."
"Me too."
Licht finally spoke. Jack, staring at the floor, snapped his head up.
"I'm not sure. Whether I'm a swordsman or a mage."
"......"
He didn't know.
The Licht of his previous life wouldn't have hesitated. He was a swordsman. Circles were merely a substitute for aura. His constitution prevented storing mana in his heart, so he'd woven rings around it instead.
But now...
I don't know.
He couldn't answer definitively. Ever since beginning magic, the line between sword and spell had blurred. Even his own identity as swordsman or mage.
No.
Does it matter?
Perhaps because he'd shed his obsessions. Such trivialities no longer concerned him. If they blocked his path, he'd simply remove them. It was far too early to falter.
Head north.
So many questions burned within. He alone in this world had experienced regression, that miracle. Why had his past self—once his enemy—used his sole vow for him? He still didn't fully understand. What had he been thinking?
What is he doing now, I wonder.
To learn, he'd need to surpass his past self. The continent was vast, its powerhouses legion.
And he'd live without regrets. That was all.
"It doesn't matter much. Swordsman or mage."
"...Is that so?"
"I've integrated circle magic into my body, but I haven't abandoned the sword. Both are now part of me."
"Makes sense. If you're good at both, just use both, right?"
Jack clapped Ranin on the back beside him. A total reversal from his earlier whining about blasphemy and blubbering over the shattered statue.
"Jack, you really..."
"What?"
"Nothing. Must be nice being so straightforward."
"...That kinda stings."
Licht heard the two bickering behind him. Rare for the ever-polite Ranin. Speaking so casually and showing emotion like that...
Means he trusts us that much.
He'd sensed their bond was special. From the moment Jack risked his life to follow out of worry.
Should've left them behind after all.
But he dismissed the thought quickly. The die was cast; no turning back now. Besides, Jack and Ranin proved far more useful than expected. If they found something at this underground cathedral's end, their experience and knowledge would surely help.
How long had they walked?
"What's up?"
Licht halted at the front.
"We're here."
"Already?"
"Right ahead."
"Right ahead?"
The white flame floating before Licht lit the way, but visibility was limited. As the pair tilted their heads, Licht stepped forward.
The moment he crossed a certain point—
Whoosh!
Crackle, pop!
Light flooded in. Suddenly, Licht, Jack, and Ranin stood within a colossal cavern.
A circular expanse stretched wide, its ceiling soaring into unseen heights.
"This is..."
"No way."
Astonishment etched across Jack and Ranin's faces. Glancing back, the passage they'd just exited swallowed into endless shadow.
Hundreds of torches flickered across the vast chamber, while mana lamps dangled from the ceiling far above, casting faint glows.
"Urk..."
"What the hell is that smell..."
That wasn't all. Overwhelmed by the sight only briefly, they pinched their noses in unison, gagging.
Blood.
The stench of rotting corpses mingled with fresh blood's metallic tang, forming a nauseating reek.
Licht grimaced, scanning the surroundings before slowly advancing toward the center.
Splash, splash.
"Fuck... all this blood from people...?"
An elevated altar loomed ahead, etched below with geometric patterns. Identical to those carved into the assassins who'd attacked him and Simon's crew.
Licht climbed atop and leaned down. At the center lay the ritual's core inscription.
"No way... they really killed them all?"
"No bodies, but the blood's fresh... Two or three days ago, tops. Definitely, many died here just recently."
"Mages."
"The trial ritual, right? Even so, this much blood... what the hell for?"
Ranin traced the altar's pattern with his fingers, muttering. He frowned in thought, but no clear answers emerged.
"Jack."
"No clue. Never seen that pattern."
"Me neither. Merc work for years, but nothing like this..."
Ranin straightened and asked, "Young master Licht, any idea or guess?"
"Not really."
"I see."
"More importantly."
"Yes?"
"Step back."
No sooner had he spoken than—
Flash!
A streak of brilliant yellow light lanced from the passage they'd entered. Holy power, compressed to the extreme and roiling fiercely.
As Jack and Ranin recoiled in shock, Licht stepped forward and extended his left hand.
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the altar where Licht stood, whipping up fierce winds. A pale glow pulsed from his ring as the incoming holy power clashed with mana, scattering particles into the air and dissipating.
Dust settled, revealing the scene: Alder house knights and priests emerging slowly from the passage. At their fore, two men.
"You knew we were coming? That was meant to kill..."
Sernos smiled benignly. Purple priestly robes and that repulsive smirk at his lips. The rosary at his neck gleamed coldly. The attack had come from the archbishop himself.
"An artifact? Mana gauntlet... looks like Fredrikssen Count didn't send you empty-handed."
Licht didn't respond. His gaze had already shifted to Sernos's side.
Pure white armor emblazoned with a pattern—and the number 7.
A snow-white holy sword hung at his waist, glinting in the light. The Execution Sword, granted only to Palenia's chosen thirteen among the faithful.
The thirteen Executors.
The seventh had appeared before them.
"Licht Sientia."
Sernos murmured. Knights and priests behind him tensed, ready to spring.
"Killing Bryce was fine, but you should've stopped there. That power at your age... understandable arrogance, but you've overplayed your hand and will meet your end here. You've learned too much."
"The mages?"
"Mages? Ah, those ones."
Sernos lowered his gaze to the blood pooling across the floor.
"They've returned to Lady Isteria's embrace. A few days ago."
"You killed them."
"Killed? It was a sacred ritual."
He smiled repulsively again. Licht let out a hollow chuckle.
"On your precious pope's orders?"
"His Holiness the Pope speaks for Lady Isteria. His word is the goddess's will."
"Shedding so much innocent blood to revive someone long dead?"
"We don't expect understanding. You'll know soon enough."
"Mad zealot."
"No more words, then."
Clank.
Sernos stepped back. Palenia's Executor in pristine white armor advanced.
Stroking the guard of his Execution Sword with his left hand, he declared, "Licht Barbalte."
"......"
"By His Holiness the Pope's command: surrender peacefully."
"...And if I refuse?"
"Executor, 7th Seat: Kars Gord."
His right hand reached for the white hilt.
"I will execute you here and now."
Shing!
The pristine holy sword slid free with a clear ring. Thick killing intent radiated from all sides.
"Pathetic."
Licht ignored it. He stepped forward.
Thud.
The onslaught of malice couldn't halt the youth's advance. Raising a hand to check Jack and Ranin behind him, he spat mockingly,
"Not Barbalte."
A soft voice. Yet crystal clear to everyone present.
"I'm Licht Sientia."
The boy gripped the Ascension Sword's hilt with his right hand.
"And this place."
A golden blade slowly emerged.
"Is your grave."
Ching!
Pure white mana surged along the drawn blade.
Whoosh!
Simultaneously, dozens of spikes erupted amid the knights and priests behind.
Splat!
They pierced tender flesh, spraying crimson blood everywhere.