Chapter 700: The Promise (5)
As the morning sun rose beyond the horizon, the world brightened once more.
The pitch-black night sky gradually turned to a bluish-gray, and the earth was dyed in the crimson light of the sun.
A scene where hope seemed to naturally sprout.
Yet, in this world, everything had its exceptions, and the morning sun was no different.
There were those who felt despair, rather than hope, at the sight of the rising sun.
For instance, such was the case in the Holy See State, the capital of the Pater Church.
As the morning sun rose, dispelling the darkness, a new form of despair took root in the Holy See State. The ruins concealed in darkness now came into stark view.
Especially so was the hill at the center of the Holy See State.
Not just one or two people, but close to a hundred priests and holy knights were all gazing at one spot.
The 56 corpses that had been animated only moments before by the woman on the camel, now returned to mere lumps of flesh.
[The End is coming.]
Those were the final words left behind.
"…"
"…"
The priests and holy knights fell silent.
People who should never have remained silent, yet they had no choice. They simply couldn’t process what had happened.
How could anyone accept the apocalyptic reality of a demon descending upon the human world to declare the end?
So much so that some began to wonder if they were dreaming, caught in a nightmare far too vivid.
As evidence, wasn’t everything too calm at this moment? As if they had just woken from a dream.
But as such thoughts began to form, the morning sun, barely above the horizon, released its blinding rays, piercing the eyes of those who wished to ignore the truth, forcing them back to reality.
The collapsed Holy See buildings, the dried-up pond that once held sacred power, the sores left on people’s faces, the devastated city, and the countless scattered bodies…
All these testified that a demon had indeed descended here.
It was no dream.
A demon had come, had ravaged the capital of the Pater Church. That demon had taken back the sacred power, even shattering it—all of this was reality.
The people facing this reality slowly turned their heads, as if drawn by an invisible force, to look at a boy.
The boy identified as the Prince of Hell, who had confined himself in a prison, the boy who had stood against the demon that tried to erase the Holy See State, and the boy who had broken and destroyed the sacred power.
The boy gazed silently at the pile of corpses.
As if lost deeply in thought.
In silent empathy, everyone mirrored his quietude, and so, a deathly stillness settled on the hill, as if time itself had frozen.
As the growing silence began to weigh upon the people…
Tap.
Oliver, who had been standing like a statue, broke the silence by pressing his quarterstaff to the ground.
He turned his body around and opened his mouth to speak.
“Are you alright?”
Opposite Oliver stood Kevin and Joanna.
Unlike the priests and holy knights present, their expressions seemed comparatively natural.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I’m alright too.”
Receiving their responses, Oliver nodded as if satisfied, then began walking forward, leaning on his quarterstaff.
Tap… tap… tap… tap…
It was clear that Oliver intended to leave this place. Walking away on his own two feet.
He needed to be stopped. That’s what most people thought. Yet, none moved.
It was inconceivable that any of them could stop the boy, so frail and thin, with bleached white hair and a bandaged arm.
“What are you planning to do?”
At that moment, Kevin’s question stopped Oliver in his tracks.
The echoing taps of the quarterstaff ceased as Oliver replied.
“I don’t know. I don’t have any plans after this… Professor, what will you do?”
“Well, I’ll probably go to Landa. There, I’ll reveal that I’ve become the Archive, and carry on my master’s work.”
Upon hearing this, Oliver turned his head to look down the hill.
Below the hill were those who had survived the calamity, those swept up in it, and even animated corpses that hadn’t been swept away but remained watching.
One of the living corpses made eye contact with Oliver, then hurriedly fled as its consciousness withdrew.
Turning his gaze back to Kevin, Oliver remarked quietly,
“... It will be difficult, won’t it?”
“It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s hard or not, it’s my responsibility.”
A consistent answer. Having heard Kevin’s resolve, Oliver said no more.
Oliver turned his gaze to Joanna, the holy knight who bore wings on her back after absorbing sacred blood. The knight who had faced her own sins.
“…”
Oliver had words he wished to say, but he didn’t know how to voice them. Instead of speaking, he decided to leave.
“Oliver…!”
As he began to move, Joanna called out to him.
Startled by her unexpectedly loud voice, Oliver stopped, and she forced the words out through clenched lips.
“Are… are you alright, Oliver?”
A question he hadn’t anticipated. After pondering for a moment, Oliver responded.
“… I’m not sure.”
Then, without looking back, he continued walking, leaving the Holy See State.
...
“Gasp…!!”
The Royal Palace of the United Kingdom.
In the office of the Royal Secretary.
The person occupying the desk abruptly inhaled deeply as he read an urgent report in the early hours. As if caught off guard by something.
“Are you alright, sir?”
In shock, Royal Secretary 1, a disciple of Puppet, almost called him ‘Master’ in his surprise.
It was a mistake so basic that even a novice wouldn’t make it. But it was understandable.
Royal Secretary 1 had served Puppet faithfully in the royal palace for a lifetime, yet he had never seen Puppet react with such shock before.
Then again, Puppet was an ancient monster, having survived for hundreds of years, a living legend among dark sorcerers.
Seeing him react this way naturally led to their own alarm.
Royal Secretary 1 asked once more.
“Sir, are you alright?”
“… I’m fine.”
Puppet responded. Though obviously untrue, Royal Secretary 1 refrained from prying, loyal as ever to his master.
Admittedly, he felt a touch of disappointment, but he understood.
Puppet had infiltrated the Holy See State. He had seen the calamity and the demon with his own eyes and witnessed the disappearance of the sacred power when he suddenly locked eyes with Oliver.
At that moment, Puppet felt as if a blade had pierced his heart.
Though he lacked a heart or real sensation, he experienced a brush with death.
Yet, the centuries he had survived weren’t for nothing, and he quickly regained his composure.
“Continue with the report.”
“Yes, sir.”
Royal Secretary 1, loyal as always, resumed his usual duty and continued the report.
“It’s not just the holy knights here.”
“…”
“It’s not only the holy knights in the capital. The sacred power of those assigned to the major cities of the United Kingdom has disappeared as well.”
Even though Puppet had already grasped the situation, Royal Secretary 1 solemnly recited the report as seriously as possible.
However, Puppet did not interrupt him. He silently listened, ensuring he had not misunderstood.
“The accounts are all the same. The sacred power within the holy knights suddenly left their bodies and flew into the night sky like starlight. Even in the major cities of our colonies and key foreign strongholds, we’re receiving similar reports one after another… The sacred power of the holy knights has vanished!”
Secretary 1 held out a piece of paper as evidence, emphasizing the importance of this information.
It was indeed critical. Sacred power, small as it may have been, served as a counterforce against dark sorcerers, and on a larger scale, upheld one of the pillars of world order.
A testament to the idea that the divine loved humanity. Yet now, that sacred power had vanished? It would bring immense chaos.
It was like removing the bottom layer of a tall, unstable house of cards.
The taller and larger the card house, the greater the impact would be.
The fury of countless dark sorcerers suppressed by the holy knights...
The collapse of the Pater Church, which had established its authority through sacred power...
The royal families that staked their legitimacy on the Pater Church…
The interpretation that the Divine had abandoned humanity, and the ensuing predictions of the end…
These were just the immediate ramifications, each devastating in its own right.
Secretary 1’s burning gaze betrayed his feelings.
“As someone handling intelligence, it’s dangerous to speculate lightly, but… it seems the sacred power has completely disappeared from this world. It makes no sense that only holy knights in major cities would be affected… Did you already know?”
Puppet’s main assistant asked. Puppet replied.
“I realized moments ago. The demon reclaimed the sacred power.”
Secretary 1 tried to keep his expression neutral, though he couldn’t completely conceal his shock.
It seemed too unbelievable, but he didn’t ask for confirmation.
Instead, as his master’s faithful disciple, he believed Puppet and asked a different question.
“So, then… the end is truly beginning, and he is… the prince?”
The vague term, ‘he.’
But there was no ambiguity in communication.
In the world of dark sorcerers, there was only one person referred to as ‘he’ or ‘the one.’
The one who defeated the Piper, worshipped by countless dark sorcerers—Woodcutter Dave.
After he defeated the Piper, dark sorcerers had spread word of his deed far and wide, and now everyone referred to him as ‘him,’ almost as if uttering his name was an act of irreverence.
Pater Church had tried desperately to suppress the news, but they were no longer in a position to succeed. Without the sacred power, it was hard for them to justify their own existence.
It was possible that the mages or armies could act, but whether they would succeed was another matter.
They lacked the same zeal as the Pater Church, and, more importantly, holy knights, with their overwhelming power, had barely managed to contain him. It was uncertain if the others could perform as well.
“Well, with some support, it might be possible, but… who knows.”
Puppet pondered this. He wasn’t sure what actions to take.
It was a feeling he had sensed before, but after making eye contact in the Holy See State, he was now certain.
Oliver. Though he couldn’t say for certain if he was indeed the Prince of Hell, he knew one thing for sure: they should avoid provoking him.
Facing a demon was bad enough, but it was impossible to face a blessed being.
At least until his goal was achieved.
However, it was far too late to just sit and wait for the storm to pass.
The one who had voluntarily confined himself had started moving again.
While it seemed unlikely that he would head straight to Landa, there was a strong chance he would eventually arrive.
An unstoppable, uncontainable presence drawing near... While certain precautions had been taken to ensure security, trusting in those alone left Puppet uneasy.
He needed to create further distractions to split the attention.
“Several of our sorcerers are already in the Tower of Magic, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they’re traditionalists who’ve practically seized the tower’s network, thanks in large part to Tilda’s collaboration.”
“Send word to them. Have this information relayed in secret, but through another’s lips.”
“Yes, sir. And what should we tell them?”
“Let it be known that Merlin is dead, and a new Archive has arisen.”
“…!”
“And that this Archive is none other than Merlin’s own disciple, the Red-Skinned Warlock. That should spark their own response.”
...
Tap… tap… tap… tap…
Oliver continued walking forward, pressing his quarterstaff to the ground with each step.
He walked with steady resolve, paying no heed to the citizens of the Holy See State, who were left distraught by the catastrophe, nor to the newcomers who had arrived to assess the scene.
Tap… tap… tap… tap…
He didn’t think about anything. Thoughts were bothersome, even exhausting.
Occasionally, memories of Merlin surfaced as he glanced at people troubled by the sudden loss of sacred power, but he chose not to dwell on them.
Kevin had already laid Merlin to rest. That was enough reason to avoid revisiting it in his mind.
With his thoughts as empty as possible, Oliver pressed on, eventually entering the woods.
Tap… tap… tap… tap…
As he moved deeper into the forest, mist began to gather around him, and soon he found himself in a denser, darker part of the woods.
A forest so thick and shrouded that its location was anyone’s guess.
Surprisingly, a castle stood in the midst of the trees.
The kind of castle where a sleeping princess might reside. Oliver opened the castle gates and stepped inside.