Chapter: 674
To put it bluntly, the disaster started from a sense of complacency.
Originally, dungeons where the minions of the Evil God lurked should have been seen as sources of terror.
Just their mere appearance was supposed to devastate several cities, causing numerous casualties, leading famous heroes to their doom and putting nations in peril.
Even if precautions were taken, it should have been a given that the area would be saturated with the stench of blood. Everyone who lived in the age of mythology knew this.
There was no doubt that the emergence of a dungeon near their home meant death.
However, hundreds of years had passed, and the land was now littered with only the joys of victory. Due to their complacency, the deaths that should have come were blocked by the Apostle of the God, leading people to think:
“Wait, aren’t the minions of the Evil God being overly exaggerated?”
Even if the terrifying records of the past were all true, wouldn’t they have weakened after all these centuries?
That little brat Lucy can take on a dungeon so easily; there’s no way we can’t do it too!
Many didn’t realize just how exceptional Lucy was.
They couldn’t comprehend the bizarre way she tackled dungeons.
In fact, even those who had heard her speak about it found it hard to wrap their heads around.
For Lucy, the dungeon was a simple place.
Just run to the boss room and toy with the boss she knew the strategies for, then take it down.
Lucy Alrn only shared that method, and she really did tackle dungeons like that.
Not long ago, the noble young lady, known only for her slander, who was born from the lineage of heroes and hadn’t even studied proper combat for two years, managed to trample on the past nightmares with her peers, not with heroes.
At least, that’s what many thought. The knights of Parma, who faced the calamity, thought the same.
If they could do it, what’s stopping us?
They knew everything about that dungeon, so why should they wait for that girl?
When others were crushed under the God’s authority and couldn’t do anything, why not take the initiative to clear the dungeon first?
If they did that, not only would they be in debt to the Church of the God, but they could also put another country in their debt.
Even after the ordeal was over, they could claim their religion deserved to take higher status.
The people of Parma agreed with this idea and, the moment the dungeon appeared, instead of blocking the monstrous creatures that were seeping out, they chose to enter and eliminate the source.
Although this was a brash decision, it wasn’t entirely wrong. Regardless of the high status the name “Apostle of the God” carried, few recognized Lucy’s uniqueness.
If one had to point out their error, it would be that they didn’t consider the possibility of their failure.
They never thought about what lay after failure.
They only envisioned themselves basking in glory after conquering the dungeon.
That’s why they couldn’t rectify their course when the first stitch was twisted.
When a monster shaped like a knight emerged from the dungeon doors, it took their necks far too easily.
Chaos ensued.
The commander, who stood at the front to applaud those who emerged, lost his head.
In the resulting havoc, others fell around him.
And only after that did they start drawing their weapons, but by then it was already too late.
In the confusion where they couldn’t even tell friend from foe, the crucial knights fell like dominoes.
People were dying. Enemies were multiplying. The number of monsters pouring out from the dungeon grew exponentially.
The frontline was crumbling.
Again, people died. As more monsters appeared, the number of soldiers dwindled.
Stepping over corpses, the soldiers backed away once more.
People were dying.
People had died.
They were falling one after another.
At some point, everyone on the front realized they were going to die.
They understood that no matter how hard they tried, it meant nothing.
Unless a miracle occurred, the city was doomed.
Some chose to flee, some quietly accepted their deaths, and some gritted their teeth and stood on the frontline.
They didn’t believe they could survive.
They didn’t even expect a miracle to happen.
They simply wished that those standing behind them would die even a second later than themselves.
They prayed that by dying first, they might create even the tiniest chance for others to live a bit longer.
Even when the moment came when all life on earth was snuffed out, they wished for others’ lives to last a bit longer.
“…Hah.”
As a soldier was about to pull out a cigarette from his pocket, he belatedly realized his right arm was gone and forced a hollow laugh.
With his awkward left arm, he finally managed to fish out the cigarette and placed it in his mouth, then rummaged through his pockets.
And then he realized he had nothing to light it with.
If only I had learned some magic…
Regretting the decision to refuse the spell the mage offered while being a mercenary, he gnawed at the end of his smoke while feeling his head grow hazy and closed his eyes.
Beside him, his teammate was shouting something, and further away, screams and monstrous roars echoed, but the soldier could not open his eyes.
He had bled too much.
He hadn’t slept in ages.
Everything he had been through felt like an overwhelming weight.
Now he just wanted to rest. Just a short nap, and then he would get up.
With one hand holding a weapon, he thought to charge ahead.
Even if it meant dying in place of a comrade, he would push forward.
Yeah. Just a bit. A very short rest before all of this.
At that moment, a strange warmth wrapped around his body.
The kind of warmth you feel lying on the spring meadow with your eyes closed.
The fading consciousness floated back to the surface, pain enveloping his entire body dulled, and strength returned to the body he never thought he’d be able to stand again.
As he felt this, the soldier slowly opened his eyes, and to his surprise, saw an angel standing on the city walls.
On the once-gray earth, the angel shimmered with light, praying towards the heavens, her eyes closed.
Dazed, the soldier stared at the sight before suddenly turning his head around.
The sounds of battle had faded.
There were no screams. No shouts. No rage. No weeping. Nothing.
Nothing remained on the battlefield.
The only thing there was a reverence pointed towards the angel standing on the city walls.
Monsters. Where are the monsters?
As he tried to rise, pushing himself up with his right arm, the soldier tumbled over but managed to unsteadily get back up.
Only then did he realize why all sounds had vanished. The monsters were retreating.
They were moving back, unable to breach the warmth created by the angel.
Back again.
Watching that sight, the soldier recalled the hero’s story he had heard once.
The tale of a holy knight who pushed all monsters back just with her own light.
“O Great God.”
The moment someone expressed their reverence, those standing on the battlefield also began to raise their hands.
And then they prayed to the sky. O Great God, please protect those who stand upon this land.
Let your will reach the earth to repel evil and spread good far and wide.
“For the Great God.”
“For the Apostle who carries the God’s will.”
“For the good that must exist on this land.”
Each soldier, filled with rising words, grasped their weapons and faced the monsters glaring at them from the city walls.
They exhibited hatred towards those who loathed the Apostle of the God.
“For the ones we must protect!”
As the clash between humans and monsters erupted again, it was the monsters who were pushed back.
*
The weapon favored by the God of Arts sliced through the air, severing countless monster heads floating aimlessly.
When darkness itself and the Great Mage’s apprentice unleashed their magic, lightning rained from the heavens, creating holes in the horde of monsters.
A prince from a nation wandered around the frontlines, supporting everyone with magic and steel.
The Saintess, like the face of the Church of the God, revived even those who should have died and maintained the frontline.
And, as expected, the Apostle of the God, covered in the blood of monsters, kept advancing forward.
The Pope watched all of this from afar.
“Isn’t it more beautiful than ever? Look at how they fight, intentionally holding their tongues for those they can rely on.”
“Indeed, Your Holiness.”
The Holy Knights patrolling the city nodded repeatedly to the Pope’s words.
“However, it’s disheartening. Those who doubted His words, even with a slight confusion, remain alive.”
“That’s true. By our original plan, this city should have been obliterated.”
Though it was foretold that the Apostle would descend here, no one anticipated that the miracle created by that individual would block all the monsters.
Once again, I’ve underestimated that being.
“But there’s no need to rush. The fact that the guilty remain means the Apostle’s tale will become even more dramatic.”
The Pope, who had suffered great loss while heading towards the Alrn territory, redirected his focus.
He would test the Apostle through those he sought to protect.
Even though humanity had already suffered greatly, the Apostle of the God, who sacrificed for the world, wouldn’t abandon humanity over a few accusations.
However, if many deaths rested on his shoulders, he would surely despair, and that suffering would turn into a story, forming trials that would complete that individual.
For that to happen, this city must fall. Haha. Yet, this isn’t too bad.
It gave me a chance to test those around the Apostle, and the entire world would learn of the abilities the Apostle possessed.
After all this, a few statues would surely be erected in that person’s hometown.
To be honest, I had been quite disappointed before.
“Well then, let’s withdraw. It seems the position on this side is about to be grasped.”
“Understood, Your Holiness.”
That day isn’t far off. Apostle.
The day you’ll bestow a trial upon me is approaching soon.
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