Chapter 753: The Will of the Gods (4)
[Aaahhhhh…]
[It’s unfair! Unfair! So unfair!]
[Please don’t hit me…!]
[Why me?!]
The wails of vengeful spirits formed from ashes echoed in the heart of the vastest empire in the world. Their accumulated malice had taken root in the heart of the land like a malignant tumor.
“Haa... haa…”
“Hic…”
“I-I don’t know. I swear I don’t know!”
Surrounded by the tumors, people began to lose their sanity. Their faces turned pale, their breathing grew labored, and they broke into a cold sweat as they babbled incoherently, pressed under the weight of the sins they had committed, directly or indirectly.
The ones suffering the most were the holy knights. Just like when Joanna had once been crushed by her own sins in the New World, they, too, gasped for breath, collapsing one by one as if drowning.
Amid the chaos filled with resentment and groans, someone spoke up.
“I am sorry.”
A sincere apology was given, infused with genuine remorse. At that moment, as if by magic, the cries of the vengeful spirits fell silent, and a calmness settled.
The sinners, and the spirits crafted from ashes, turned their heads instinctively in the direction of the voice. There, they saw Oliver kneeling with both knees on the ground, embracing the children made of ash.
“I am sorry,” Oliver apologized again.
The children, who had been crying out for help, had no response. Oliver continued to apologize.
“I am truly sorry I couldn’t help you all. And I fear I still won’t be able to help you now.”
[...Why?]
One of the children in Oliver’s arms asked, one who had been blindly expressing both resentment and pleas for aid. Oliver loosened his hold and met the eyes of the children he had embraced.
“Because there’s still something I must do.”
[…]
“So I’m afraid I can’t help you now. I’m sorry. But I promise you…”
[…]
“I swear, I will come to help every one of you, no matter how long it takes.”
[…]
“Can you wait just a little longer?”
[...Do you promise?]
“Yes, I promise.”
Oliver lifted his thumbs to pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile. He then extended his pinky finger to one of the children made of ash. The children watched in silence, and one child linked their pinky finger with his.
Oliver clasped the child’s hand in his own, letting his thumb touch theirs. At that moment, one by one, the vengeful spirits formed of ash returned to ash, disappearing entirely.
It was a sight unbelievable even to those who witnessed it.
Rising from his knees, Oliver clenched his left fist and struck the abdomen of the Burnt One with full force.
“Fly.”
With a massive yet almost imperceptible sound, his fist, embedded in the Burnt One’s abdomen, hurled the entity back.
A demon, one of the Seventy-two Lords who ruled Hell and sought to bring about the apocalypse alone—a being with countless titles, such as the King of Fire and Darkness—was thrown into the grand smoke from which he had emerged. In the brief moment he had, Oliver turned to those standing behind him.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to see you all again like this,” Oliver said to the people before him.
They weren’t just Joanna and the holy knights; there was Jane, Edith, Mari, Joe, Bartholomew, Wallace, Commander of the Kel Liberation Army, as well as kingdom soldiers Philip and Terrence, and even Prince Albert. All were faces Oliver knew well.
The Burnt One had summoned them all back to the capital.
Despite the despairing situation, Oliver tried a light-hearted comment.
“It’s not so bad to see familiar faces again.”
Mari, Jane, Joanna, Joe, Wallace, Albert, Edith, Philip, and Terrence remained silent. They weren’t exhausted by Oliver’s words, spoken as if unfazed by the dire situation, but rather felt unable to say anything in the face of his tireless efforts to keep pushing forward.
He was telling them not to lose heart, to not despair, that he was still strong enough to joke.
Wallace was the first to respond to that courage and effort.
“What should we do next?”
Commander of the Kel Liberation Army, Wallace didn’t waste words offering his help to Oliver; he already knew that there were limits to his involvement. So, he resolved to do what he could.
Swinging his hand in the air, Oliver answered by testing to see if spatial magic could be activated to evacuate the people. It seemed, however, that the conditions were not favorable.
“I’m afraid it’ll be troublesome, but could you lead the people away on foot? Take them as far as possible.”
“I hate to ask this, but… is there any point?”
It was a reasonable question. Even if they escaped, they could easily be brought back, and the outer perimeter of the capital was already encircled by towering walls of flame.
“There is. I’ll make sure of it.”
His reply left no room for doubt. Wallace shouted as he urged people to move.
“What are you all just standing there for? Move! Quickly!”
The Kel Liberation Army members, who had been paralyzed by the scene, came to their senses at Wallace’s command and began to move. The citizens who had been frozen with fear also started to move, albeit gradually.
Then, a familiar voice called out.
“Oliver…”
Mari spoke softly, her voice trailing off. Once intent on cursing her helplessness to become a black magician, she now addressed Oliver directly.
And she was not alone. Behind her stood Joe, Bartholomew, and several others.
Gang leaders from the worst slums of X-District, and an even older sinner from the Z-District, the district that went beyond the worst slums.
They all looked at Oliver, silently observing him in the place where a demon had descended.
Oliver waited patiently, expecting them to speak.
After a brief pause, Mari clenched her teeth and forced herself to speak.
“We… we will move too.”
She pledged to focus solely on evacuating the citizens of the capital, just as she had previously promised.
Oliver felt slightly regretful. If he had known how to smile, he would have smiled then.
Joe and Bartholomew quickly joined forces with the Kel Liberation Army, assisting in evacuating the citizens of the capital, while Mari also forced herself to move, even though her steps were heavy.
As Mari turned away, Oliver called out to her back.
“I am proud of you.”
“...!”
Mari paused briefly. Oliver spoke to her back once more.
“I’m proud of you, Mari. I’m grateful I had the chance to teach you.”
Mari’s shoulders trembled slightly. After a moment’s hesitation, she dipped her head a bit and then hurried off.
Others also began to join forces with the Kel Liberation Army, the Fighter Crew, and the Development Opposition Committee to assist with evacuating the citizens.
Amidst the renewed movement of the crowd, Oliver turned his attention to Lieutenant General Philip and Terrence, who were escorting the prince, as well as Edith and Jane.
They looked at Oliver as if they didn’t care, and Oliver waved them along, encouraging them to keep moving.
Then he addressed the holy knights and Joanna.
“Will you not move?”
The others had been shocked by the vengeful spirits formed from ash, but the holy knights seemed particularly stricken. Their eyes had lost their light and focus, dark circles had formed beneath them, and their faces were gaunt. Their hands shook, and their legs barely supported them—a picture of despair.
As Joanna attempted to speak on their behalf, Oliver raised a finger to his lips, asking her for a moment’s silence.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t Joanna’s response he wanted to hear, but that of the holy knights themselves.
They were, after all, those who had sworn to be the shield of humanity.
Finally, one holy knight spoke, the words slipping out between trembling lips. His voice was pitiful, as though even speaking was a struggle.
“I-is it… true? Did… the divine allow a demon… to set foot in the human world?”
The holy knights, once proud and confident, appeared broken as they asked, as if even their past glory had been a lie.
“Does He truly wish for our end?” they asked, fearing that perhaps the divine desired the destruction of humanity.
For a moment, Oliver pondered how to respond. Should he simply tell them that his presence here proved otherwise?
It wasn’t a bad answer, but he decided to speak differently, choosing words that weren’t intended to console but rather to challenge—words he felt they, as holy knights, needed to hear.
“Does that matter?”
The holy knights looked up at him, bewildered. To them, as servants of the divine who had devoted everything to their faith, it was a shocking question.
Oliver then began to recite the oath of the holy knight, the words they had spoken upon their induction.
“My holy Father, I stand with the shield and sword You have given me, and from this moment, I pledge…”
“I shall become the shield that protects humanity, and the sword that smites evil. I shall guard the righteous, the weak, and the good, while I drive out chaos, demons, and malice. I am the light that banishes darkness, the trumpet of dawn, the armor that protects this world, the shield that defends Your children.”
A solemn oath to protect humanity and fight against evil.
“I shall persevere, even if I am battered like an old shield…”
“Even if I break and shatter like a worn sword.”
“I shall not turn away, nor flee, nor surrender—until my life’s end. I pledge this now and forever.”
An oath to withstand any hardship, no matter how fierce, and to remain unyielding.
As he recited the vows, a spark of light returned to the holy knights’ eyes. But it wasn’t enough.
“But… what if the divine truly…”
Caught between their dual roles as both servants of the divine and protectors of humanity, the holy knights struggled. The current situation had fractured their very identities.
Instead of reassuring them, Oliver asked, “Why did you become holy knights?”
“…”
“Why did you devote your lives to becoming holy knights, wielding sword and shield? Was it to earn divine favor, or to protect humanity?”
“We… we…”
“If what you desire is divine approval, I will not stop you. I offer only an opportunity. The choice is yours. But there’s one thing I’ll tell you: there are still people in need of your help, and you have the opportunity to help them. Just as you chose to become holy knights, you still have the chance to make a choice.”
Hearing Oliver’s words, the holy knights’ eyes flickered with uncertainty. One by one, they began lifting their heads, gritting their teeth, and standing up, their numbers growing steadily.
Soon, all the holy knights had risen.
“Damn it! Damn it all!”
“Oh, divine one, forgive us.”
“Please… forgive us… damn it!”
All except one.
“Joanna.”
Oliver called out to the one who remained, addressing her with a hint of familiarity. “May I call you by name, Joanna, rather than knight? ‘Knight’ sounds a bit too formal. I hope you don’t mind?”
He asked her, wanting to be sure she was comfortable with the change in title. Joanna responded, struggling with her words.
“I… I’ll stay here and fight alongside you…”
“I’ve already restored Director Amelin.”
Oliver interrupted, explaining that he had returned the director of the Ark Orphanage, whom the Piper had turned into wood, back to her original form.
Joanna fell silent.
“Before coming here. She’s safe now, with your younger siblings in the Holy See State. Apologies for the delay—it’s been rather chaotic. And by the way, I also visited your younger siblings.”
“…”
“They all wished to see you, Joanna. They said they missed you since you haven’t been able to visit. Rather cruel of you, don’t you think?”
Oliver lifted his thumbs to the corners of his mouth, attempting a smile.
Joanna watched that smile with sorrowful eyes.
“I…”
“I also… want you to see them again.”
Oliver’s words cut her off, clear and direct.
Joanna swallowed her response and hung her head before dashing forward with all her strength.
Thus, everyone resumed their evacuation. If only that had been the end of the urgent matters, but one remained.
The wall of flame encircling the capital was still intact. Fortunately, this was no insurmountable obstacle.
After all, if you hit something hard enough, it would break.
“Child!”
Oliver called out as people approached the wall of flame.
A terrible shriek echoed from the sky, where the blackened clouds seemed to split open, and a massive shadow descended rapidly.
It was Child-Force, controlling the flesh chef, who had taken the form of a dragon. Riding on his back were First, controlling the corpse doll Bathory, Second, controlling the doll Durance, and lastly, Third, controlling the doll Seamus.
The dragon, which had briefly been forgotten due to the Burnt One’s descent, roared as it fell to earth, shaking the heavens.
Oliver seized the white sun in his hand.
The moment he grasped it, the power within the flesh chef transferred to Force and the others riding on him—First, Second, and Third.
“Bang—! Bang—!”
Child-Second transformed the doll Durance’s arm into a massive gun, firing countless rounds at the buildings in the evacuation path.
The countless bullets raining down from the sky didn’t just demolish the structures; they cleanly erased anything deemed an obstacle, leaving no dust or debris behind.
And that wasn’t all.
Child-Force spread his wings wide, opening his mouth toward the wall of flame the Burnt One had created. First, controlling Bathory, drew a large volume of blood from within her body, feeding it into the dragon’s mouth. The small sun within the flesh chef reacted, and a brilliant white flame spewed forth.
Fwooooshhh!!
The white flame burned away the wall of fire, opening a path. Taking the chance, Third, controlling Seamus, leaped into the air and planted two massive trees along the path Child-Force had cleared.
Thud… thud…
The trees stood firm, preventing the wall of fire from closing again.
“The way is open!”
People poured through the cleared path.
“Thank you for waiting.”
Oliver expressed his gratitude toward the towering smoke.
A response came.
[Consider it repayment, for the entertainment you’ve provided.]
Then, the massive plume of smoke, which had been billowing upward, began to draw back toward the center.
Pop.
With the sound of a match striking, flames ignited within, releasing a wave of heat so intense it caused the surrounding steel beams, concrete fragments, and even the earth itself to bubble and melt.
At the center of this roiling dance of black smoke and fire, a shape began to emerge—a colossal figure resembling a thunderbolt that stretched skyward.
The fiery wings took form on the Burnt One’s back, reaching up to the torn sky.
[You… continue to surprise me,] the Burnt One remarked.
Oliver, standing amidst the melting ground, replied calmly.
“I’m only giving back what I received.”
[And now, what will you do? Will you stop me?]
“No. I’ll defeat you.”
Without hesitation, Oliver’s form disappeared as the Burnt One’s jagged mouth opened.
At that instant, both he and the Burnt One vanished.
…
A massive wave surged as they collided in the center of the seething, lava-like ground.
“Your arrogance knows no bounds, exalted one.”