Chapter 107
Chapter 107
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Extra Operation: No Salvation Outside the Church
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*
“Gasp!”
Ironside’s traitor team. Or imperial rebels, or military law violators. Every time he encountered such labels, Cardis bolted upright from his bed, drenched in cold sweat.
With trembling hands, he grabbed the glass of water by his bedside. Damn it, that dream again. The imperial inspectorate coming to arrest him—or assassinate him.
The lukewarm water trickled down his parched throat. Cardis roughly rubbed his eyes, stinging as cold sweat dripped onto his eyelids.
“Damn it, fuck, you bastards. What I did... I did it for the Empire.”
The team leader’s proposal had been rejected long ago. In his judgment, it was a scheme bordering on trickery, but one that couldn’t possibly fail. And if it succeeded while bearing only minimal risk, the Empire could swallow the Great Wilderness whole.
Once more, a plan to raise the great homeland into a nation where the sun never set!
“What the hell has become of Ironside’s Gray Circle...”
Everyone in the Empire feared them. Even the high nobles who wielded immense power and looked down on the masses. All information inside and outside the Empire lay in their grasp, and those who crossed the Emperor met their end under their daggers.
They were called the Reapers. Even the Sultan’s Hashashin far away paled in comparison to their scale and organization.
One such Gray Circle team, ‘Gravekeepers of the Wilderness.’ After they discovered the tombs slumbering beneath the Great Wilderness, the Gravekeepers’ team leader proposed a project to them.
[Great Wilderness Subversion Plan]
A stratagem to fully exploit the countless mana stones buried underground in the Great Wilderness while simultaneously inflicting massive casualties on the Sultan’s soldiers.
It was an exquisitely refined scheme of drawing the enemy in to slaughter them. Moreover, it was a ploy already proven effective. The reason Team ‘Gravekeepers of the Wilderness’ was formed was because a wraith called ‘Conclave’ had escaped from one of the pyramids in the Great Wilderness.
Watching that single wraith devour a military powerhouse in the Western Kingdoms Alliance, the team leader thought: If we awaken the other wraiths buried in the Great Wilderness and utilize them properly, we could deal a devastating blow to Kirzart.
That’s what he had thought.
-Creeeak.
Beyond the window stretched the dark night of the barren wasteland. Like other cities that had suddenly risen from the sand one day, this massive city had no lights save for the moonlight in the sky.
They called this city bathed in moonlight the ‘Buried City.’ It was a straightforward name. Quite literally, the only residents were the buried skeletons and mummies.
Now, the ‘Gravekeepers of the Wilderness’ no longer guarded the tombs. They had become denizens of the tombs. Right after being branded imperial traitors, their team leader had applied for asylum to the city’s master.
“Damn Pharaoh...”
He remembered the nightmare of Mosat City. The plan’s core hinged on the saint from the backwater West—a saint with a track record of slaying Conclave. They intended to use that little ‘saint’ to raise Conclave from the tomb, neutralize it, and pit its wraith army against Kirzart.
Bombard Mosat City to eliminate evidence and evacuate forces, then orchestrate the Conclave wraiths spreading like a plague from the emptied city to wage a proxy war against Kirzart.
It was a beautiful plan. Right up until it all went wrong from start to finish.
“Damn it...”
Their grand magic had been destroyed, and circumstantial evidence pointed to the saint dispatched to Mosat City. How a single person had reverse-spelled a military-grade grand magic without preparation was unknown, but circumstantially.
Suppose it was true, that he had done it alone. Then why hadn’t he returned to report his innocence and expose Ironside’s scheme to the homeland?
After that incident, the Western Kingdoms Alliance and the churches of the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods turned against the Empire en masse. Support for the Great Wilderness war had been cut off, and intelligence indicated the churches were debating whether to excommunicate or sever ties first.
The situation was dire. Immediately after, the team leader sought asylum from the Pharaoh, forcing her team to choose sides between the gallows and the Skeleton King.
Of course, they wanted to live. If they survived, there might be a chance to clear their names?
Every heretic has a good plan. Until they meet an Inquisitor.
Thus, they would never get a chance to clear their names.
*
-Roar!
The sudden blaze erupting at the city’s outskirts drew the gaze of every skeleton and mummy in the city—and the few remaining humans.
It was clearly no natural fire, as skeletons and mummies never started fires.
“What’s going on!”
“Part leader! Fire, fire! It’s everywhere! Encircling the city!”
“I’ve got eyes too, you idiots! Any other intel!”
Information operatives, and they’re all spacing out like this! He sighed, glaring around. The mummies lumbered slowly toward the outskirts.
Hoping their desiccated bodies would prove more useful against the blaze than they looked, Cardis drew his longsword.
“Round everyone up! Where the hell are they, sleeping through this chaos without even assembling!”
“The 3rd and 5th Parts had a gathering recently...”
“Gatherings can go fuck themselves. You enjoy gnawing rotten meat that much?”
Cardis ground his teeth and raced to the rooftop of the building. This small city—somewhere between a village and a town—was entirely surrounded by flames rising like a wall!
*
“Brother Basilio, advance.”
-Krunch!
The massive warhammer crushed the bone-dry palisade as it pressed forward. Flames raced between the palisade, beyond it, and the stone buildings. No natural fire. This was divine wrath manifested as sorcery.
The order’s secret incendiary, named [Beitasser’s Flowing Flame]. A superheated liquid fire that flowed to divide sections without exploding.
-Step.
-Step, step.
And walking unscathed through it were five men. Beneath their worn priestly robes gleamed silver armor.
“Brother Cesario, to the west. Brothers Veronica, Dermot, take the front. Brother Emilio, with me to the east.”
“Macto.”
“Macto Superaudo. Purge the heretics, brothers.”
“Deus Vult.”
The five men dashed down the streets. Countless skeletons and mummies staggered to block their path, but they never halted for a moment.
Like wolves cutting through a flock of sheep. Yet not with the thrill of the hunt. With astonishing restraint in action and emotion, they cleaved the undead with mechanical swordplay.
They were swords and shields, a storm of corpses. Rotten or withered limbs flew through the air. Precisely one at a time. Crushing fallen foes’ heads underfoot for methodical kill confirmation!
-Krunch!
“Beta point clear!”
“Clear!”
This small city, fully encircled by flickering flames, offered no escape. It had become a coliseum solely for slaughter. The undead mounted no meaningful resistance, merely tearing apart.
“Gamma point clear!”
Gazing down from the central tower, Cardis trembled. Damn Pharaoh. Damn Angela!!
“You said this place was safe!”
It had been safe. The rearmost region in Tutan Gartap’s territory, strategically insignificant. Thus, aside from a handful of underground miners, no forces were stationed here.
It was merely a small mining town extracting mana stones from below. They were nominally overseers but effectively exiled here. For that, they had felt relieved. At least this spot was a step or two removed from the Great Wilderness war.
But what was this?
“Pharaoh, damn it! You couldn’t spare even one burial priest!”
In this insignificant little mining town with no strategic assets, Inquisitors had appeared.
*
-Krunch!
Codename Angelo. Dispatched priest. He casually deflected a downward axe swing with his pauldron. The blade scored the armor’s surface, scraping empty air.
-Krack!
Simultaneously, with fluid motion like flowing water, his fist drove into the yawning skull of a skeleton ahead. The hefty steel gauntlet plated in saint-metal, empowered by Demonica strength and speed, unleashed siege ram force—
-Kaboom!
The skull rocketed like a cannonball, crashing into the undead horde behind and exploding like ordinance.
‘Easy.’
Another failure. Church intel said Ironside traitors hid in this small mining town.
Lately, the imperial government had been handing over traitor intel en masse. Enough for even that arrogant regime to concede a point, with the entire order engulfed in fury.
[The heretics who dared attack Inquisitors are permitted non-coercive, non-voluntary heresy investigations.]
This was the monastery’s official stance, and from that moment, every Inquisitor off-duty or unassigned headed to the Great Wilderness, rank be damned.
As a result, such flames blazed across every region of the Great Wilderness. Empires, Sultanates, nomad tribes, petty kingdoms alike. In ‘all’ domains under the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods.
“Brother Angelo.”
From afar, a man approached, slicing corpses mid-stride without pause.
“Resistance sighted in the city center.”
“Numbers?”
They didn’t count undead charging them as ‘resistance.’ Their ‘resistance’ meant foes capable of meaningful damage.
“Seventeen. Living humans.”
“Status?”
“Brothers Veronica and Dermot are engaging.”
“Excellent.”
Angelo gripped a shambling corpse’s head, crushing it, and nodded.
*
-Kaboom!
Magic scattered, grazing the Inquisitor’s shoulder. Inquisitor Veronica held his broad kite shield at an angle, glaring at the few humans firing magic from behind barricades.
“Surrender, apostates.”
“You’ll spare us if we do?”
“If you are guiltless.”
-Kaboom!!
Flames erupted again, spreading wide across his shield. Veronica shook off the embers lightly and advanced another step.
“Stop! We’ll blow the whole city sky-high!”
At that, Veronica halted. A demolition mage among them, and by their claim, the city had self-destruct runes.
No way to verify why they’d bury such magic under their own city, true or not. If his misjudgment doomed his brothers... he couldn’t act rashly.
“Those the ones?”
“Brother Angelo.”
Angelo emerged slowly from the alley mouth. He eyed the stacked palisade in the central plaza coldly.
“They say they’ve buried a massive explosion spell beneath the city.”
“And Brother Basilio?”
“In ambush.”
“How long?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Hm...”
Angelo stroked his chin and stepped forward. The mage frantically formed seals; Veronica raised his shield. But Angelo shook his head, pushing the shield aside.
“Dangerous, brother.”
“Watch.”
Angelo stared coldly at the mage and trembling humans nearby. Repulsive humans collaborating in the undead city. Imperial intel pegged them as the traitors.
Angelo spoke quietly, but with firm intonation.
“Seek righteousness.”
“And your heavenly Father will add unto you spirit.”
Veronica intoned after Angelo. Then,
“Seek goodness.”
“And your heavenly Father will add unto you spirit.”
Another voice echoed from the opposite alley. The mage panicked.
“Act with virtue.”
“And.”
“And your heavenly Father will add unto you spirit.”
Voices rose from all sides. Soon, men appeared on rooftops, behind alleys, between gaps. Quietly, calmly, intensely praying.
The panicked mage formed seals frantically.
“Wh-what the fuck is this! You wanna die as a group? Huh? All of you wanna get fucked?!”
“Judgment is God’s domain, but sending heretics to Him is our calling.”
-Whooosh!
A wooden stake speared into the dirt at the terrified mage’s feet. He whipped around in horror. A hulking man loomed above, rosary glinting and swaying from his hand.
“...You think I’m bluffing? Think we came unprepared?!”
-Krunch!
Soon, magic flowed along the mage’s arm. As naturally as breathing, he activated the mana circuits embedded in his body, pulling the trigger. The magical fuse seeped along his mana into the leylines below—
-Whooosh...
Nothing happened. Only then did the mage recall outdated intel. Ironside Gray Circle’s information network included such things. Even the name of the special anti-mage unit.
Amid the church’s elite forces. Hunters versed in arithmetic, semiotics, humanities, canon law, and magitech—thinking like mages more than mages themselves.
Witchhunters, Religiosa Enmagicka!
“Extra Ecclesiam Nulla Salus.”
A man on the rooftop crossed hands in seals and bowed. Below, his rosary swung slowly like a pendulum.
As the mage desperately tried to activate his circuits, Angelo—confirming neutralization—stepped forward.
-Clang!
The men surrounding the mage raised spearheads in unison. Pale and shaking, they cautiously aimed at Angelo.
Angelo’s eyes sharpened at the sight.
“Pray. To any god, any words. Earnestly.”
“Macto.”
“‘Macto Superaudo.’”
Utterly terrified by the five encircling Inquisitors, the men dropped their spears trembling. Like lions closing on prey, Angelo and the Inquisitors advanced slowly.
“We shall burn the demons, heretics, and witches.”
Walking among the prostrated, Angelo and the Inquisitors prayed. Their arms rose, saint-metal weapons gleaming in the moonlight.