The Cult (1)
The vwoom of a lightsaber from a Star Wars movie never came from the UV flashlight. Yet somehow it felt like it should have. The ultraviolet beam lanced through the darkness and drilled into the skeletons like a laser.
The flashlight had been designed to sterilize gaps between furniture or ceiling corners beyond a hand’s reach. Its lens concentrated the UV rays into a focused lance far stronger than any radial spray. That intense blue light acted like a death ray against the undead.
I swept the beam back and forth, hunting for the vampire who had dragged Pyurie and the ranger away. Every skeleton the light touched was punched through, sliced, and melted on the spot.
“There!”
The moment the vampire appeared, wings wrapped tightly around his body, the flashlight locked onto him and refused to let go.
“Graaagh!”
Unlike the skeletons, the vampire screamed when the beam struck. It looked as though he would fall in seconds. Then someone suddenly leaped in from the side and shielded the vampire with his own back.
Carol had spent days studying the party that entered the dungeon. Warriors at the front with shields, archers and mages in support, priests in the rear, and even a knight guarding the back—it was a tightly formed formation that left almost no openings for attack.
Yet by forcing them into repetitive patterns he had exhausted the priests’ holy magic. Then he had deployed skeletons and death knights that broke the pattern, creating the gaps he needed. Finally he had stepped forward himself to pick them off one by one. He had believed the disciplined party would collapse quickly.
But when the blue light erupted as though holy magic had been invoked, the death knights melted where they stood and the skeletons dissolved in a single wave. Carol knew that the more powerful the holy magic, the shorter its duration. He had waited for the light to fade, slipping into the shadows to watch for his chance.
Yet the blue radiance that should have vanished after a few moments continued to shine without weakening. He could not help but wonder.
How can it keep emitting that blue light?
The glow was like the sunlight scattered by the chief god Dias. For creatures of darkness, the power that burned and melted flesh on contact was unbearable. Then the intense blue beam pierced the gloom and shot straight at him.
The thin pillar of light melted the thralls he had placed in front as a living shield. Carol had no time to dodge. The ray punched through his body. Even a graze brought the agony of melting flesh. It was holy magic of a strength he had never encountered.
The terrifying blue light dissolved his thigh and shoulder. Pain unlike anything he had ever known tore through him—the sensation of a body brimming with power, an existence steeped in darkness, melting away into nothing.
Then the pain suddenly vanished. His servant Harhil had thrown himself into the beam and blocked it.
“Young Master! You must flee at once!”
“What about you, old man?”
“I am human. It seems this light does not affect me. Please, go now!”
Carol slipped into the deep shadow cast by Harhil’s spread cloak and sprinted deeper into the dungeon. Behind him he saw, to his relief, that the old man was following.
“A human? Why is a human protecting a vampire?”
I tried to maneuver the flashlight around the blocker to kill the vampire, but the man spread his cloak wide. The UV beam could not penetrate the fabric. Soon came the sound of hurried footsteps, and both the vampire and his protector fled.
“Hmm. Perfect score against undead, but the weakness is that it has no direct effect on humans.”
With the skeletons scattered and gone, I lit candles and kindling to brighten the area and switched off the radial UV sterilizer. Even while powering it down I was careful to keep the light out of my eyes.
“What god’s light was that holy radiance just now?”
Priest Pelani gazed in wonder at the blue holy light that resembled the glow of Rius, the water god he served. Even though it was holy power, its ability to illuminate every corner and melt undead monsters instantly left him stunned.
“Master is a priest and mage of Sadalla, the god of magic.”
“God of magic? Lord Sadalla?”
Both Priest Pelani and Louis, priest of Lecherot, tilted their heads; they had never heard the name.
“Lord Sadalla is a deity of the Arean Continent.”
“A god from the Arean Continent? Then…?”
“Yes. Master came here from the Arean Continent.”
“I see. So a god of magic can wield holy light in such a manner.”
The two priests marveled at the power of the divine artifact and were astonished that he could immediately cast buff magic on Pyurie and the ranger again without first restoring his own energy. Thanks to the buffs and potions, Pyurie recovered and the ranger soon regained his senses.
“It is an undead dungeon, yet I never expected death knights and a vampire. We will need to prepare specific countermeasures.”
Priest Pelani, a veteran of many dungeons, said they should have readied silver weapons or holy water effective against vampires.
“But isn’t it natural for an undead dungeon to contain death knights and vampires?”
“No. Living armor and death knights may appear similar, but death knights do not occur naturally. They require the corpse of a knight to be summoned.”
“Which means someone deliberately summoned them from those corpses.”
“Correct. Either the vampire himself or one of his followers is a summoner.”
“Hmm. Then the party that entered before us was probably wiped out by them as well.”
“Most likely.”
“Now that I think about it, I recall strange rumors concerning a vampire. The silhouette I glimpsed during the fight matches the one from those rumors.”
Priest Louis of Lecherot spoke up. “Have you heard of the Church of Blatian, the God of Blood?”
“Ah! I believe I have.”
Both priests seemed familiar with the topic.
“Is this god Blatian an evil deity?”
At Jinwoo’s question the two priests gave him looks that asked how he could not know, but they remembered he was from another continent and patiently explained.
“The God of Blood, Blatian, is a dual-natured deity. Blood represents life force, yet the god also possesses a dark aspect that draws power through vampirism.”
From their explanation, Blatian was half benevolent god and half malevolent. “Because the Blatian Church acknowledges that dark side, it also includes vampires who drink blood.”
Surprisingly, there were vampires who were managed by the god himself.
“The church’s vampires continue their line by pairing with human women, but this time…”
“Wait. Don’t vampires achieve eternal life by drinking blood?”
“Hmm. In theory, constant blood-drinking could grant immortality. However, true immortality is permitted only to the gods. Created beings cannot possess it.”
In short, the Blatian Church prevented its vampires from attaining immortality by restricting their blood-drinking; the next generation, born from unions with humans, would become the new church vampires.
“But rumor says the vampire in question was born from an elf rather than a human. The church attempted to have him produce the next generation before disposing of him, yet he fled.”
“Then the vampire we saw is the one who escaped the Blatian Church?”
“It is not certain. But during the fight I caught a glimpse of pointed ears.”
“Hmm. So he may have hidden inside this dungeon to avoid execution by the church.”
“A vampire who commands a servant willing to block holy light with his own body is uncommon. It is likely the same individual from the rumors.”
“Then what should we do? Should we inform the Blatian Church that the vampire they seek is here?”
“Now that you mention it, when we attacked the cultists on the first floor and searched their belongings, we found this.”
Pyutel held up a necklace. At its center sat a red gem set against a white background.
Holy symbol of the Blatian Church
A red gem on white ground—recognized instantly by the priests.
“It is the Red Eyes necklace worn by Blatian followers. In that case, the church may have already dispatched pursuers.”
Whether these were believers who had followed the fugitive vampire or pursuers sent after him, the situation had grown troublesome. They had become entangled with worshippers of the god Blatian inside an undead dungeon.
“Then perhaps we should abandon the exploration and leave. When we accepted the request, the contract stated there would be no penalty if we gave up due to excessive difficulty.”
“Becoming involved in the Blatian Church’s internal strife could bring harm to us. I agree with withdrawing.”
Priest Louis voiced his support, and Priest Pelani nodded as well.
“Hmm. In that case, let us search for the belongings of the party that entered first and take those as proof. If we find nothing, it may look suspicious.”
Carrying out the previous party’s remains would serve as evidence that they had abandoned the request because of unmanageable cultists and a vampire.
“Harhil, do you know what that holy magic was?”
“It is the first time I have witnessed such an intense blue light. Moreover, it was not a priest in the party but a holy knight clad in armor who invoked it.”
“A holy knight wielding stronger holy magic than the priests? He must possess tremendous faith. If that man descends to the third floor, are we doomed?”
“The power was formidable, yet because it was holy light it had no effect on humans. If we use people as shields for our attacks, there may be a way.”
“I would rather not resort to using people as shields…”
“Lord Carol. You must not harbor such weakness. You need to grow ruthless. For the sake of those who follow you, you must become ruthless. Only then can we survive.”
Harhil spoke with resolve, urging him to harden his heart, but Carol felt no surge of strength. His gaze fell on the people sitting dejectedly throughout the dungeon. When he saw the small children clinging to their parents, his heart grew even darker.
“Harhil. If that holy knight is a high-ranking priest, could we not explain our circumstances and ask him to escort everyone safely out of the dungeon?”
“That would be ideal for me as well… yet have you not experienced it, Lord Carol? Ordinary humans grow tense and sharp after only a week inside this dungeon. Normal conversation becomes nearly impossible.”
Carol and Harhil had previously approached other parties for the sake of their own followers. But the dungeon’s oppressive environment always caused the strangers to attack on sight; dialogue had never been possible.
“That is true, but would a high-ranking holy knight not be different?”
“Hmm. Then we shall attempt conversation one final time.”
Harhil, as a summoner, was intimate with darkness, yet after nearly half a year in these depths he longed for bright sunlight. If even he felt this way, the other believers must be suffering far more. He could only pray that the holy knight they approached would be someone with whom true conversation was possible.