The Bishop (1)
Damn it! Nobody said anything about a guy like this existing. Was he hiding in there? Or maybe he'd slipped out for a secret inspection of his own...
I silently cursed the men whose heads had been blown apart by my [Gold Strike].
By any measure, this old man looked a cut above the [Priest].
Granted, with a base this size, I hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility of someone above priest rank popping out...
But he was far more dangerous than I'd anticipated. Had I been too optimistic about the whole situation?
No—regretting it now was pointless. Exceptional circumstances on a battlefield show up often enough to call them a friend. What mattered now was finding the road to victory.
Gulp.
The only sound in the chamber was the crackle of torches the cultists had lit. I swallowed dryly, and somehow that small sound seemed to ring out like thunder.
The strange old man must have heard it, because he broke into a smooth smile and spoke.
"How very bold. Judging by your attire, you belong to a guild—though you hardly seem a veteran."
"..."
"How did you find this place? Ah—of course, you must have traced back the monsters we sent out. Tsk tsk... What an unfortunate coincidence that our worship hours overlapped. Had I known in advance, I would have reinforced the perimeter."
"We're sorry!!"
"Please, punish us!"
The old man asked me questions, then proceeded to find the answers for himself. His voice grew smaller and smaller until it was practically a murmured soliloquy, but the cultists around him—who had been listening with ears pricked—confessed their own failings with such zeal, heads slamming toward the dirt floor, that no one had asked them to.
The old man waved his hands dismissively, his face contorting in displeasure.
"Enough. Reverence toward the divine precedes all other values. Even this hardship must have been preordained."
"Ooh—yes, exactly! All things according to the will of the god..."
On the surface, the old man's words sounded like sanctimonious drivel, but when you actually considered what he meant, a quiet, simmering madness lurked beneath. They could have simply staggered their worship schedules—but no, they'd rather endure an attack mid-ritual?
They were completely, utterly insane.
The old man turned his gaze back to me.
"Come to think of it, I did set up magic wards—and you broke through even those... Though your finish was sloppy. Remember this: the man who occupies the finest position is not necessarily the most important. One must not judge us by worldly measures of value."
"...I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time."
While the old man and I exchanged words, the cultists had been creeping into position, tightening the encirclement around us. Our odds of escape were shrinking, but at the very least, we'd succeeded in drawing every eye. For the sake of the hostages we intended to smuggle out, we simply stood ready for battle.
By the time the encirclement was complete, the old man had grown all the more imperious.
"You two are surely young adventurers of rare talent. How about it? Why not join our order? I swear on my station as [Bishop]—I promise to make full use of you."
"So you were someone high-ranking after all... But are you sure? We've already killed your comrades."
Absurdly enough, the [Bishop] was inviting us to surrender. At first I thought it was mockery, but he seemed quite sincere. Perhaps he had some means of turning us into comrades whether we liked it or not?
I raised my guard another notch and threw out a provocative remark, but the Bishop merely shrugged as if it were nothing.
"Death is not the end. It is a pity he failed to complete his mission, but... his soul shall find rest in the dwelling of Lord Mordoc."
"Ha! The god of pain will look after him so very well, I'm sure."
"Then you refuse?"
"Obviously."
As I traded words with the Bishop, I fully settled the turmoil still churning inside me—the aftermath of using Sawtooth Sword Aura. Complete combat readiness. There were a lot of enemies, sure... but we were practically a hard counter to cultists. As long as I was careful with the Bishop, victory was entirely within reach.
Who knows how he interpreted our state of mind, but the Bishop raised his hand proudly and gave the order to his subordinates.
"Then shall we take our time and persuade you at leisure...? Holy knights! Capture them! Arms and legs are entirely optional."
"We obey!"
...
Clank, clank.
The ones advancing at the very front were the Chimeras and the so-called holy knights. The lay believers merely held the encirclement—which made sense. From what we'd seen before, empowering the rank-and-file with some unknown ability seemed to carry far too much risk. Probably once the enhancement was applied, there was no going back to normal. And the Bishop showed no intention of entering the fight himself just yet.
Feeding them in piecemeal, huh? Fine by me.
He thought we were fish already in the net. I hoped he'd keep thinking that.
"Kyaaaagh—!"
The Chimeras made the first move. Unlike the ones we'd encountered in the village, these bore six arms, each clutching a weapon, and they charged us swinging them like pinwheels. No matter how confident I was in my swordsmanship, it was a storm of steel no single blade could hope to match.
But Noah stepped forward without a flicker of hesitation.
Ka-kaang!!
The [Glacier Bracelet], an artifact that pushed the wearer's durability to absurd extremes, combined with Noah's steel body—and the synergy was monstrous. To put it concretely: Rank 7 physical force couldn't so much as scratch her.
The Chimeras swung swords, axes, hammers—even a cleaver straight out of a butcher's shop—but Noah ignored every last attack with pristine indifference and simply swung her mace.
Ka-kaang!
Deeeeng—!
The weapons that struck Noah's body bounced away without leaving so much as a nick, repelled with force exactly proportional to what had gone into them. Noah's attacks were a different story. The Chimera's head hit by her mace caved inward with a sound like a struck bell. Naturally, its brain, eyes, and every other organ inside were pulped and sprayed in all directions.
Without pausing, Noah was already attacking the next Chimera.
"Impossible!"
"An artifact!"
"Charge, brothers—!"
The instant two Chimeras were slaughtered in the blink of an eye, the holy knights lunged in, frantic with alarm. Like the knight we'd fought before, violet mana was visibly seeping into their blades without any incantation. Without a doubt, some technique like [Sword of Pain].
I dialed my senses down to the bare minimum and hurled myself at the knights. Their blades came sweeping in fast. The power behind them was real, but their swordplay was as crude as the previous knight's had been.
Whuum!
Shaaang!
When I cut off their line of advance and slipped their blades with preternatural movements, they switched their target to me. Dodging one or two swords wasn't particularly difficult—but once all five of them had claimed every angle and started swinging, even clumsy swordsmanship left nowhere to run. At last, their blades met mine.
Kaang!
"Nnngh!"
Even with my senses dialed down, a dull residual feeling remained, letting me track exactly where the pain landed. This time: the shoulder. Clutching it, I put on the performance of my life.
"Heh heh... You stupid fool. But we have the Bishop's orders, so we won't kill y—"
Shk!
I severed the neck of the man who'd approached without a care. In fairness to his title, he was wearing full plate—but the throat, where the plates were thinnest, couldn't withstand even an ordinary sword aura. The knight's head went rolling across the floor, helmet and all. The expressions of the other knights, who'd been toying with us, froze solid.
"...How?"
"Grrrgh... it hurts so much!"
I kept clutching my shoulder, milking the agony. Maybe one more would be foolish enough to take the bait? I wanted to conserve Sawtooth Sword Aura as much as possible. But the fanatics' heads apparently retained one thin strand of reason after all.
"Don't fall for it! He must carry an artifact that blocks Lord Mordoc's authority!"
"Ah. You caught me."
"An artifact's protection has limits! Keep attacking!"
Well, they were doing the misinterpreting for me. Playing along with the knight's theory, I dropped the pained act. Four blades came flying at me again. I focused on evasion, hunting for an opening.
Kaang! Kaang! Kaang!
"Ugh..."
"The artifact's been breached—gahk!"
I put the suffering act back on mid-fight, and it hooked one more knight. After all, we'd exchanged dozens of blows by now—it was entirely believable the artifact's power had run dry. I drove a hole through the throat of the knight who'd let his guard slip without realizing it.
"Y-you... you cowaarrrd!"
"Oh? Five against one isn't cowardly, but this is?"
Well, it was three-to-one now, anyway.
While needling the knights, I shot a glance at the Bishop. Still standing there with his arms crossed, unmoving. What was he thinking?
...
I kept fighting the knights with ordinary sword aura alone. Of course, if I used Sawtooth Sword Aura and Sensory Impartation, I could have wiped them out in one stroke—but I wanted to avoid exposing my full strength to the Bishop whenever I could. Fortunately, aside from their [Sword of Pain], the knights were nothing more than thugs with good physical stats, so even three-to-one wasn't much of a struggle.
Truthfully, they hardly deserved the name of knight.
"Gahk... gkk!"
"Wasted all that money on gear, didn't you."
Pshh—
I twisted the blade buried in the last knight's throat half a rotation, then pulled it free. The knight grabbed at the fist-sized hole in his neck, blood surging out in gulps, but it was already far too late. Through the slit of his helmet, where only his eyes were visible, he shot me one last look of pure resentment and toppled to the ground.
Crash—!
"Gweeehh..."
No sooner had I finished the last knight than Noah's side wrapped up as well. The Chimeras' attacks had been completely useless against her, so they must have felt far bleaker than the knights I'd faced.
And yet, even with the battle in this state, the Bishop—
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause. On a battlefield drenched in blood and unidentifiable fluids, only one person here would do such a thing. When our eyes met, the Bishop stopped clapping with languid slowness and addressed me as I caught my breath.
"Magnificent! A force like this from just the two of you? And blocking Lord Mordoc's authority to that degree—you must carry some special artifact... And yet I've never heard of adventurers like you in the north. I keep track of the guild parties worth tracking, you see..."
"...Do you have a mole in the city or something?"
"Mm! Sharp thinking! Quite unlike the idiots who try to fight you the moment your eyes meet. All the more tempting, then."
Ugh. That greasy gleam in his eyes. I didn't even want to imagine what would happen to us if we were taken alive. If capture looked likely, death might genuinely be the better option.
Preparing myself for the fight against the Bishop, I warmed my body with aura pouring out of my Inner Heart and called out to him.
"But are you sure about this? Your knights and Chimeras are all dead. Aren't you being a little too cautious?"
"Heh heh. Holy knights are merely a resource—give me a little time and I can produce more. And those Chimeras you speak of... I don't care for them personally, but they're something I can acquire in supply at any time."
Supply? They weren't making the Chimeras themselves?
I blinked at his loaded remark. I'd assumed the Chimeras were monsters of the cult's own making—was he saying some other organization manufactured these abominations?
The Bishop watched me chewing it over and continued.
"In the end, everything is nothing more than the god's [Tool]. How the tool is used rests entirely in my hands."
"Hey, faithful—your Bishop is saying some interesting things, isn't he?"
"..."
I tried to quietly goad them into infighting, but the lay believers held their posts in stony silence, without a whisper of unrest. Just how had they brainwashed these people?
Apparently delighted by the quiet, the Bishop let out a hearty laugh and pulled off the gloves he'd been wearing.
"Submit, and worship. Heh heh... the very picture of a proper believer. Well then—I'd say you've had plenty of time to rest. Let us begin."
When the Bishop raised his bare hands, I could see it: embedded in each of his palms were blood-red magic stones, identical to the one we'd taken from the [Priest]'s heart. The sinister crimson stones blazed with unrestrained mana, and a power far denser than before now linked the Bishop to his believers. Presumably he could use everything the priest had—and without needing a staff, at that.
Which meant he would be far, far stronger.