The Sanctuary's Advantage
“This… what is this?”
One of the knights murmured, unable to swallow his amazement. He immediately shot a glare at the knight beside him and clamped his mouth shut, yet the sentiment was the same in all their hearts.
Raymond Danier, the master of these knights, was no different.
“Damien Hamilcar… it seems he is.”
Though he was too far away to make out the details, the boyish face he had seen years ago—pretty, almost delicate—felt familiar.
Isabel Confino had scarcely set foot in the cottage before she set it ablaze. Damien pierced the roof and soared into the sky, still hovering in the air as he clashed with her.
‘Thank goodness I sent David ahead….’
The mere thought of Arian being here was enough to send chills down Raymond’s spine. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, watching the twelve-year-old battle a seventy-year-old.
It was no mere fight—it was a war. Isabel summoned fireballs or lit the heavens themselves, raining them down upon Damien.
Damien dodged, tore them apart in the air, or defended himself as he called lightning down from above.
He had talent on the battlefield; she had hoarded power for her entire life. The clash promised to drag on for some time.
Then, suddenly, Isabel’s gaze shifted—not to Damien, but somewhere else. She smiled coldly.
“There’s a rat hiding in the bushes!”
She hurled a fireball. It streaked toward the cottage, but at the last moment veered straight for the ancient temple pillar behind it.
A boy, hiding behind the pillar, slashed with his sword to deflect the fireball. A knight screamed.
“Lord David!”
Damien Hamilcar was a stranger; distances made faces hard to recognize. But the face he saw every single day was unmistakable.
The knights who had been watching indifferently now stared at David with murder in their eyes, as if ready to spring forward at any moment.
Raymond’s heart plummeted to the floor. If David was here, then Arian must be too.
He had three children. Two of them were hiding behind that pillar, cowering from an old woman’s mad attacks.
Rage clouded his vision until it was white, but he held it in check. Any mistake here would cost him his children and doom Hamilcar as well. He had to choose wisely.
He opened his mouth slowly.
“David!”
David might not have noticed. But if Arian was behind that pillar, his clever daughter would answer perfectly.
“Saintess!”
David poked his head out in surprise.
“Father?!”
He had been distracted dodging attacks and hadn’t seen who was coming. But the figure in the distance was his father. Isabel’s group stood behind him, and the sight struck him with sudden bewilderment.
His father had told him to bring Arian, yet here he was, fleeing with his own father’s party.
Father would be furious. He had to explain quickly why he couldn’t bring Arian. But before he could, Arian poked him in the back.
“Say we’re together.”
It was the truth. The three of them were hiding together behind the pillar.
“Don’t say anything else. It could be information for Confino.”
At Arian’s warning, David glanced at his sister and nodded. He cautiously pulled his neck back from the pillar and shouted to his father.
“We’re together!”
“Are you hurt?!”
“No, we’re not!”
The perfect answer.
Raymond heard it and strode forward to stand beside Confino. While Raymond spoke with David, Confino paused her attacks, and so did Damien.
In the brief silence, Raymond spoke in a low but carrying voice.
“The Saintess is over there. As you know, she is the king’s sister. If you are not trying to turn the entire royal family into enemies, then calm yourself and speak with the Saintess.”
Raymond had deliberately raised his voice so Damien, far away, could hear.
He was clearly disappointed that Confino had stopped attacking. The situation created an opening for conversation…
Before Raymond could continue, Confino turned to him. Her eyes were blades—sharp, cold, and colder still.
Malice filled her face; her eyes burned with poisonous fury.
“I lost three disciples.”
She hissed the words, teeth bared.
“Trying to deceive me to save your precious little bloodline? Don’t, you brat.”
And at that instant, with a thunderous roar, a bolt of lightning crashed from the sky. The ground shook. The already precarious pillar began to crumble.
“David!”
Raymond shouted and lunged forward. The knights behind him grabbed him instantly. Everyone else bolted.
They had to save David and Arian. But the pillars fell faster than thought, and they were too far away. Everything was about to collapse—
Now, the Lord of the Earth has descended.
A holy, clear voice rang out.
The priests’ song filled the air. A bright light from the sky bathed the temple like a spotlight.
I had seen this light only once before—when I was captured as a returnee.
The light was translucent, like a diamond melted in flame.
Anselm stepped from behind the tree, singing. His followers followed, singing too.
I had thought they sang only for food, but now I learned they could sing beautifully.
The earthquake stopped. The crumbling pillars fell like snowflakes. It was breathtaking.
The world moved in slow motion, as if someone had hit pause on reality itself. It was overwhelming.
And then another voice shook the world.
The Primeval Fire shall be claimed.
“Primeval Fire” referred to the God of Fire, Heto. He was fire itself—the first fire, the origin of the world.
I turned to look. Priests from the temple across the way were walking toward us, singing. Their faces were as calm as Demia’s followers.
They sang with perfect serenity even with the Master of the Magic Tower before them.
And the fire that had been devouring the cottage suddenly died out.
The final figures to appear were people I knew.
The blood of the flame is engraved upon the sword; forgiveness shall not be asked twice.
The Isael priests who had been chasing David and the boy also sang.
Their faces were the same as the others. The only difference was that they had drawn their swords while singing.
Rainbow light swirled around their blades. I could see with my own eyes that the gods had descended.
Isabel Confino glared at the Isael priests narrowing the circle around her.
Her shoulders trembled. The urge to fight was burning inside her.
But Isael priests stood before her, and Demia and Heto’s followers sang behind them.
In the eye of the storm, Isabel could no longer hold back her rage. She ground her teeth and spat, “Oh, fine.” Then she raised one hand in a half-hearted surrender.
“Well, now—tell me. Who has my item?” It was ridiculous. She had been trying to burn us alive moments ago, then surrendered without a fight, and now wanted to bargain. The truth-tellers I had read about online were nothing compared to her. How was I supposed to deal with this woman? I thought for a moment and then called up my Status Window. When I looked at her stats, something strange caught my eye. In the list of her disciples, I recognized a name. If my memory was correct, that name had appeared in the list of owners of the artifact Jean Corche had brought. Exactly the owner between Isabel Confino and Jean Corche. I was certain. Since Gerka had blessed me, my memory had never failed me. The Status Window showed that Disciples 1 and 2 had died. I turned and called Damien’s Status Window. When I saw the list of mages he had killed, I immediately recognized the names of Disciples 1 and 2. David had clearly fought two mages, killed one, and let the other escape. That escaped one was likely Disciple 3. And he was definitely here now. How could I use this to the most value? While I was thinking, Pythia looked straight at Isabel Confino through the storm and spoke. “Guillaume has it.” Guillaume was the name of the king of Morihan and Pythia’s brother.