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127. Childhood Friend – Rotation

The Orun Kingdom was filled with mountains.

The logarithmic mountains stretched along the coastline, and as you moved northeast, the elevation decreased until you reached the vast plains near the Jerome Holy Kingdom.

The name of that plain was Anatolea.

It was said to be the place where the First Saint, Saint Azra, defeated evil for the fourth time.

Coincidentally, thousands of years later, fierce battles between humans and apostles were unfolding once again on that plain.

Sir Corin looked despondently at the ground and the sky alternately.

The ground, damp from the morning dew, was stained red, and a gigantic trumpet symbol loomed in the clear sky, producing a loud trumpet sound.

A massive subjugation force gathered on the Anatolea plains to defeat the Apostle of the Evil God was now paralyzed.

All because of a single boy.

The command center dispatched cavalry against the apostle. Knights and holy knights from the Holy Kingdom and the Conrad Kingdom bravely charged forward on horseback, and squires followed suit in formation.

There was no room for complacency. Although he appeared to be a boy, everyone knew that he was a monster that had swallowed an entire kingdom’s capital whole.

Priests cast all sorts of blessings upon the squires and knights. They even bestowed blessings on their steeds.

And the priests from the Conrad Kingdom, reportedly not trained in the Monastery Church, sang a holy hymn in defiance of the trumpet of the Evil God. The divine melodies filled the subjugation force with courage.

Moreover, Cardinal Berg performed a sword dance.

The priests and retired holy knights stationed in the rear looked at the cardinal in confusion, but soon their mouths fell open in awe.

Surprisingly, he possessed immense divine power. As the sword danced, pure white divine power surged forth, etching letters into the air.

Eventually, everyone gathered in the plain came to understand what Cardinal Berg was doing.

It was a “descent ritual.”

Also known as a “possession ritual,” this ceremony was rare in the long history of the Cross Church and had been performed only a handful of times.

A holy figure faintly rose above Cardinal Berg as he danced. Though only the upper body, it was a large human figure that evoked the image of a giant…

It was Lord Lachar.

One of the four avatars of the Lord God, wielding sword and shield, presiding over battle and honor. Any holy knight would have recognized him, as they prayed to him daily.

As Lord Lachar’s image appeared, the swords and armor of the remaining elderly holy knights and the young holy knights charging toward the apostle began to shine even more brightly.

Naturally, every member of the subjugation force was filled with roaring cheers and renewed courage.

However,

“Oh no!”

The Apostle of the Evil God, charging on horseback, drew his sword. A huge Oblivion Blade erupted in flames and began to slaughter the cavalry.

Cavalry combat.

Sir Corin, being a holy knight, knew well how challenging it was to fight while mounted.

The horse was not a creature that moved exactly as the rider desired. Moreover, the rider had to hold the reins in one hand while wielding a weapon with the other, making it nearly impossible to succeed as a cavalryman without exceptional horsemanship.

The weapon developed due to this inconvenience was the lance.

With one hand holding the reins and the other grasping the lance, the elbow was bent at 90 degrees as they aimed forward. In that posture, they would charge at unmounted enemies to trample them and spear mounted foes.

If they lost their lance during a collision, they would typically return to regroup with a sword, but the height of the horse and the short reach of the sword meant the cavalry would usually have to retreat for repositioning.

Thus, the essence of cavalry combat was concentrating all force forward, capitalizing on the powerful impact and swift mobility of the horse.

Yet, the Apostle of the Evil God did not adhere to the principles of cavalry combat.

He chose one of the three divisions of cavalry and charged through… sweeping past the cavalry with incredible speed.

Such astonishing horsemanship.

Not only was it impressive how the horse and rider seemed in perfect sync, but the speed of that black horse was unparalleled.

“Ugh! Get back…!”

The cavalry commander urgently warned, but it was a futile cry. The Apostle of the Evil God wielded the massive Oblivion Blade with one hand, dismembering the necks of passing cavalry one after another.

{Swordsmanship.3v: Bart-ryu}

The other two cavalry units rushed in hurriedly, but the Apostle of the Evil God displayed astounding horsemanship once more, dodging the tips of their lances.

It was a one-sided fight.

The Apostle of the Evil God switched swords in both hands, swinging the Oblivion Blade in every direction, dashing about with agility that defied grasp.

Some knights, unable to withstand it, hurled their lances. However, he easily dodged, and as the squires charged in, he mockingly fled afar.

Eventually, the cavalry commander made a decision.

“Retreat! Join the infantry!”

They abandoned cavalry combat.

There was no other choice, given the extreme difference in mobility.

The subjugation force, now reduced to around five thousand, withdrew to consolidate their ranks. Now it was the Apostle of the Evil God’s turn to face difficulties.

Worried he would be encircled after charging into the heart of the tightly formed subjugation force or perhaps wary of the Lord Lachar summoned by Cardinal Berg, he lingered momentarily around the subjugation force.

“Now’s our chance! All priests, chant the holy incantations! Wizards, don’t miss your chance!”

Cardinal Michael shouted.

Fifteen hundred priests knelt in the center of the subjugation force, praying fervently. The knights of the prince brought along also began murmuring incantations, showcasing their magic.

Holy incantations poured forth.

The apostle’s body turned white, enveloped in blessings so dazzling it was almost blinding, and he began to emit crimson vapor.

But it was to no avail.

Surprisingly, the Apostle of the Evil God remained unharmed even after being struck by the magic, and he yelled, “It tickles!” and resumed his charge on the black horse. It seemed the claim of “tickling” was no mere boast; the Apostle blithely spun around the subjugation force, slicing without restraint as if peeling potatoes.

If only there were archers…

The impotence of the army, composed solely of knights, squires, priests, and holy knights, was starkly displayed.

Who could have imagined that the apostle would possess such exceptional mobility and completely disregard long-range attacks like holy incantations and magic?

The subjugation force was on edge. As they stood frozen, the accumulating damage began to sap the morale of even the proud knights, squires, and holy knights.

“Sir Corin? Where are you going?”

Priestess Ophelia asked. However, the elder holy knight did not respond and exited the ranks. “Please, let me pass for a moment,” he said, pushing through the panicked crowd.

It was dark. He discarded his weapon midway.

Sir Corin stepped outside the subjugation force. Someone shouted a warning about danger, but it fell on deaf ears.

This was all my fault.

I had seen that trumpet symbol floating in the skies…

The apostle’s horse was charging towards me down the outer periphery of the subjugation force.

A massive black horse exhaling hot breath. The muscular chest and legs as thick as a person’s waist were charging forward, ready to crush the insignificant old man standing blocking its path.

The Apostle of the Evil God. I could see the blood-soaked face of the young man clearly.

That face… I had seen it before. Boys who had hidden beneath a stone lid, looking up. I couldn’t bring myself to kill those kids.

Even knowing they believed in the wrong god, I let them go.

“God! Please do not forgive my sins. I… do not regret it!”

Sir Corin charged headlong at the black horse. In his final moments, he didn’t realize that his body was burning white.

*

– Crash!

Reb was sprawled out awkwardly.

The old man, Sir Corin, who had taken Lena away, was blocking the path, so he tried to pass without a second thought.

If he had been armed, he would have either split him open with the Oblivion Blade or reacted quicker to evade, but he just stood there, seemingly wishing to die.

If death was his wish, I had no reason to deny it.

However, at the moment of collision, a white light erupted from the old man’s body, and a message appeared before me.

[ Achievement: ‘The Life of Dop Bijan’ quest completed – Dop Bijan is freed from his shackles. ]

[ ‘The Life of Dop Bijan’ quest is canceled. ]

“What, what is this?”

As Reb fell, he turned to see Bante collapsed.

Reb sprinted toward Bante, ignoring the message that had popped up and the now bloody remnants of Sir Corin.

He had no doubt Bante, empowered by Barbatos’s divine power, would recover quickly.

– Eeeek.

Bante cried out mournfully. The now brown horse looked back at its master resentfully.

“…”

Looking closely, Bante had broken a leg in the fall. If he poured divine power into him, he would likely recover soon, but…

“Now’s the time! Strike!”

The army of five thousand was charging toward him with fierce intent.

To slice apart the Apostle of the Evil God, who had been tormenting them incessantly.

“Ha! What a joke!”

Reb, feeling his annoyance rise, let out a hollow laugh.

It was a somewhat blasphemous assessment, but the power bestowed by Barbatos was not suited for large-scale battles.

Certainly, [Trap Hunting] closely related to hunting and [Barbatos’s Hunting Ground], which affects a wide area, lacked lethality. Moreover, [Enchanting Eyes] and [Target Hunting] were useless against those who possessed divine power or blessings.

He found himself in a position where he had to confront them one by one using solely his enhanced body from the Oblivion Blade and buffs, relying on divine power alone.

If it were Prince Eric…

If he had been granted the strength of Oriax, who summoned the headless beast, he would have easily slaughtered these five thousand troops long ago.

Yet, if I think that I lost Bante and that it gave them an advantage, I am sorely mistaken.

Reb poured endless divine power from Barbatos onto the red earth. Having learned through the massacre of the citizens of Nebis, he understood that the ability of [Barbatos’s Hunting Ground] had a hidden feature.

“What, what’s coming up! Get back!”

“What is this…? Trees?”

From the hunting ground stained red, black trees began to grow at a rapid pace.

None of the trees stood upright; all twisted and bore sharp thorns densely packed.

Reb was startled by the thorny trees springing from the ground and charged toward the disarrayed subjugation force.

In this forest, no one would emerge alive.

The holy avatar, cutting down those thorny trees in the distance… would be dealt with last.

Reb effortlessly pushed aside the thorn bushes, seeking out the squires and systematically cutting them down. When the priests cast their sacred incantations to cleanse the land, Reb overwhelmingly poured in Barbatos’s divine power to restore the terrain to its original state.

Compared to the Lord’s divine power, it was qualitatively inferior, but given the tens of thousands of lives from Nebis offered as tribute, no one on this continent could stop him.

Honestly, the blessings pouring from fifteen hundred priests had drained quite a bit of Barbatos’s divine power. However, there was still plenty left, and there were more than enough humans to offer.

As long as I protect my pathetic body from taking a fatal hit from a sword, nothing to fear.

– Yes. Finally, you’re listening to me.

Somewhere, a voice whispered in satisfaction, but lost in the thrill of cutting and slaughtering people, Reb did not hear it.

It was exciting.

The blood exploding from my heart was beautiful, and the desperate struggles of the humans who feared me were amusing. The peculiar elation felt when slowly breaking down a well-treasured toy brought joy.

Why hadn’t I been doing something so fun? No idea.

I had killed my father, then felt a bit lost. It struck me that I had done something truly wrong, so after his funeral, I shut myself in the Marquis Gaidan’s mansion, refusing to move.

It was only after slaying the startled Marquis Gaidan, who had rushed back with his army, and recovering the divine power he had imbued that I regained my senses.

I realized that I had been acting foolishly.

“Ugh. Hehe… Hihihihihihihihihihi.”

Just as Reb inadvertently broke into a chilling smile,

“Leo! This way. Are you okay?”

A familiar voice resounded. Startled by the name Leo and that familiar voice, he pushed through the thorn bushes and approached…

“I’ll help you. You’re not hurt, are you?”

It was Lena. Stubborn and brash, with her broad shoulders and thick armor unable to hide her solid curves, Lena Ainar was there.

She was struggling to free the hefty Leo Dexter, who had gotten caught in the thorn bushes.

“Let go. I can get down myself.”

Leo brusquely rejected Lena’s help, and their eyes met.

[ Achievement: Meeting another Leo, 1/3 ]

As if waking from a trance, the fog cleared from the groggy Leo Dexter’s eyes. He looked around, momentarily confused, and then…

“You! You bastard! Lena, I’m sorry. What should I apologize for first? I’m sorry for not helping you when you fell off the horse last time, I’m sorry for sneaking off to hunt, and I’m sorry for turning my back and lying down that time. It wasn’t my true self. I was awake then. No, I wasn’t asleep. I was fully aware of everything…”

With an expression that looked like he was about to burst into tears, Leo Dexter started to apologize to Lena Ainar while hanging from the tree, and Reb just stared at the scene dumbfounded.

It felt like his head was clearing.