Faith 4
Thorns burst forth without warning, numbering in the dozens. At some point, the hard stone floor had shifted its form. Yet only a few died instantly. These were knights and priests handpicked by the Alder family and Sernos. Though the surprise attack inflicted mortal wounds, it didn't render them all combat-ineffective. A few high priests and knights brushed off the thorns as if unbothered and shouted.
"Regroup!"
"Tighten the formation!"
With a crunching sound, the stone thorns shattered. As holy light erupted, their torn wounds began to heal. A single spell wasn't enough to wipe them out.
Licht paid it no mind. The initial strike was merely preparation for the next.
Whatever.
What mattered were the archbishop and the Executioner. Not these small fry. There wasn't even an Expert-level knight among them. Likely due to their heavy losses before. There weren't many knights who could be thrown into dirty work like this without hesitation while keeping their mouths shut. A few high priests seemed mixed in, but...
Doesn't matter.
Kars Gord. The 7th Seat Executioner, he'd been told. In his previous life, the Executioner he'd faced held the 4th seat. Rank didn't always indicate absolute strength, but usually it did. For someone to hold the 7th seat among the now twelve Executioners meant he was undoubtedly a formidable fighter. Licht didn't think he'd lose in a head-on clash, but...
Who knows.
What if another archbishop was thrown in?
A bit tricky.
Whoosh! Flames surged behind him, shaping into sharp spears. As Licht took a step forward, he raised the Ascension Sword overhead.
"Licht!"
"Fall back, you idiot! Know when to butt in and when not to!"
Jack forcibly dragged Ranin back. If they got caught in the middle and a fight broke out, Licht would handle it alone. They'd discussed it beforehand. Their "preparations" were more about ensuring Jack and Ranin didn't die pointlessly in the crossfire. Getting swept up in the battle's aftermath would be a problem.
They won't die.
A fleeting thought. Licht shoved it aside. Right before him, a blade of pure white holy sword hurtled in at terrifying speed.
Clang!
The distance closed in an instant, their swords clashing. Infused with mana, Licht parried at blinding speed. Blades intertwined in midair, rapid strikes leaving afterimages. And just a fraction earlier, in that split second, Licht had launched the hovering flame spear toward the passage.
Blazing inferno, warping scenery. Bewilderment spread across the faces of the knights and priests who'd just reformed their lines.
Sernos raised his rosary without panic.
Boom!
The flame spear slammed into the hemispherical barrier of holy power. Black smoke billowed as the ground cracked open from the impact.
"Snap out of it!"
"We're joining in!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The knights hesitated just as they moved to advance. In the center of the underground cathedral, the Executioner and intruder clashed. Dim blade flashes darted everywhere, explosions shattering the floor around them. Even these elite knights couldn't keep up. Worse, it looked like Palenia's Executioner was being pushed back.
The man in charge of all knights under the First Young Master's command glanced at Sernos. He appeared expressionless at first glance, but the man could see it—the faint furrow in his brow, unlike his earlier composure. Proof things weren't going as planned.
The man looked forward again. At the center of the fray, and far off, two men watching from afar. Companions, perhaps. Joining the Executioner would only hinder him. But striking their side might distract the intruder.
Decision made swiftly, he turned to the priests in the rear. No one here was ignorant of Sernos's ties to First Young Master Jeron. They were in the same boat now. Anyone who'd entered this place had to die. Without exception. By any means necessary.
"Everyone."
His mouth opened slowly.
"Charge!"
Roars erupted as the knights kicked off the ground. Blue aura flared along their swords. Every one a Sword User powerhouse. Behind them, priests closed their eyes in prayer. The knights' speed surged further. Blessed by holy power.
The lead man signaled with his eyes, and the next nodded subtly. They split into two groups to attack the rear—
Flash!
A streak of light flickered. A deafening boom as the beam of light surged. No escaping it. Before they could divide, a pure white flash exploded in their midst.
Sizzle.
The light that engulfed over ten knights slowly faded. A hemispherical crater sizzled amid the heat. Nothing remained atop it. Not a single knight, not even ash.
A annihilation spell crafted solely for slaughter. Cast silently and by surprise, it had more than enough power to erase these seasoned knights of the First Young Master from existence.
"Monster..."
A praying priest in the back muttered in a trembling voice.
By now, Executioner Kars had been pushed back a good distance. Blood trickled from his mouth, sharp sword marks etched into his armor. Holy power enveloped him as he rose.
"...You defy God's will."
"Soon-to-be-dead bastard."
"Such arrogance."
Licht didn't reply. Turning his gaze, he saw Sernos and the priests staring from near the passage entrance. Kars approached slowly, positioning himself to block Licht. His eyes, unlike before, were deeply sunken. The contemptuous glare was gone. Only after dozens of clashes did he acknowledge it—the reason a mere boy not yet twenty had drawn an Executioner like himself. The Pope had underestimated Licht's strength.
But retreat was impossible. Too much had been revealed. He had to kill him here.
"His Holiness the Pope's will is Lady Isteria's will, heretic."
"Let's see if you can yap after your head's off."
"This is God's judgment. You die here."
Licht spun the Ascension Sword once. Despite the mana poured into it, the Orkin divine sword trembled faintly, as if craving more.
One.
That's all he needed. Kill the rest. With that thought, Licht lightly gripped the blade downward.
Boom!
He kicked off the ground. This time, Licht struck first. His vision narrowed sharply. Kars charged in response.
Rumble!
The floor shook beneath them. Cracks birthed sharp thorns surging upward. The same spell as before. Kars didn't dodge.
Crunch!
Stone thorns erupting along his path shattered futilely. Flame spears and ice spears rained down—dozens, perhaps hundreds. Kars blocked them all. Lethal strikes he parried with his Execution Sword; minor ones he shrugged off with his body. A pale yellow aura cloaked him. A blessing of holy power. His own, bolstered by prayers from Sernos and the priests, enabled the feat.
Now in close range, Kars thrust.
Crack!
Shock raced up Licht's arm. This thrust carried a weight worlds apart from before. The onslaught followed. Licht parried the barrage without a millimeter's error.
Dragging it out means defeat.
Mana wasn't infinite. More precisely, human mental strength wasn't. Circles processed ambient mana for release, but it gnawed at the user's spirit and stamina. Kars, meanwhile, drew support from numerous priests. Finite, yes, but far beyond what solitary Licht could muster.
If it's swordsmanship...
Brute force favored Kars. So? If frontal assault failed, exploit the blind spots. Kars's swordsmanship outclassed even Bryce, the former Executioner. But that was it. The Execution Sword demanded perfection without flaw, a straight blade honed to the limit—but Kars fell short.
The Ascension Sword quivered. In an instant, its golden path bizarrely curved. Licht lunged forward. The Execution Sword whistled over his head as he slipped inside.
Clang!
Raising the Ascension Sword at point-blank, Kars swiftly countered with a step back. Assault reversed in a heartbeat. Predictable forms, obvious paths. Crystal clear. Licht flowed around the incoming blade, targeting the gap, and swung.
In the blink of an eye, countless strikes exchanged; Kars's face hardened.
His identity...
What was it? No clue. Even amid life-and-death brinkmanship, dancing on the edge, Kars couldn't shake the bewilderment. Those eyes—coldly reading his Execution Sword's path to sever his neck. No mere seventeen-year-old brat had eyes like that. They belonged to a sword demon who'd rolled through battlefields hundreds of times, cheating death repeatedly.
The longer their blades met, the more viscerally Kars understood why the Pope had mobilized him, an Executioner, for this single boy.
Was he even a swordsman? How did he wield magic? That 5th Circle annihilation spell. Kars knew the First Young Master's knights had perished in the flash—he simply lacked the capacity to intervene.
Circles.
Using circles as an aura substitute? Some had tried. But they all crumbled before even breaching Expert. No—
Was it wrong from the start?
Should this mission have been a single Executioner? At least two—no, three. Or the 1st Seat himself.
Grind.
Kars gnashed his teeth. Fear. He teetered on death's doorstep, gripped by terror. Intrusive thoughts arose from it. He was the 7th Seat Executioner, faithful servant and blade of God's proxy. Failure was intolerable. He had to behead the heretic before him.
As Kars gritted his teeth and swung the Execution Sword at Licht's neck—
Flash!
A pure white glow on the Ascension Sword's blade exploded outward. White threads unraveled, swiftly weaving along the golden edge. Mana compressed to its limit. Kars recognized it instantly.
Aura Blade. The pinnacle technique of top Experts, aura hyper-compressed. And it was about to fire point-blank. A direct hit meant near-instant death.
"You damned heretic!"
Whoosh!
Kars parried the Ascension Sword and leaped back. He raised the Execution Sword. Pure white blade gathered brilliant yellow holy energy. It condensed and fired forward, shattering into hundreds of shards. Each a lethal strike that could fell a veteran mercenary.
Licht didn't dodge. His left middle finger's ring glowed, erecting a hemispherical blue barrier.
Boom!
Light particles scattered in the air. The ring's mana reserves plummeted. A cracking sound. Beyond the mingled yellow and blue haze, Licht raised the Ascension Sword overhead.
He hadn't dodged for this moment. As the holy shards expended their force, Licht swung down.
A white sword beam lanced out. Mana Blade.
Explosion of light! Blinding for an instant.
When Sernos opened his eyes again, blood-soaked Kars knelt, Execution Sword plunged into the ground, vomiting blood repeatedly.
"Sir Kars!"
Sernos cried out in alarm, raising his rosary. The other priests followed suit. Facing an intruder who'd barged in uninvited, they knew a fallen Executioner meant they were next.
As holy light enveloped Kars—
Whoosh!
Choking dust cleared in a breath. Along the long scar of the Mana Blade, Licht charged.
"How dare you...!"
Kars bit his lip, forcing himself up. He couldn't die yet. The Execution Sword in his grip still shone. God's will. Kill the heretic before you.
With blazing eyes, Kars raised his sword. Licht wordlessly stepped forward.
Boom!
Fierce winds erupted from his feet.
Now.
Feeling the gale and mana swirl around him, Licht assumed his stance. Shyrta, 7th Form: radiátĭo.
Screech!
Light surged. The golden blade traced a straight path. Explosive acceleration. The boy's form became a streak of light.
Splurt!
Blood fountained. Before eyes could blink shut and open, Kars's wide-eyed head rolled silently beneath the Ascension Sword's arc.