Chapter 122: Childhood Friend – Battle of Nevis
“Ahhhhh!”
The gathered citizens in the square screamed and covered their ears.
Lev thought that this trumpet sound, which reverberated throughout Nevis, was sacred, but that didn’t seem to be the case for them.
[Barbatos’ Hunting Ground] had the ability to apply buffs or debuffs to all living beings within a certain area.
Those who possessed the divine power of Barbatos in that area moved more swiftly, hardly fatigued, and had enhanced vision.
As for apostles, they could sense the position of all “prey” within the hunting ground.
The area also heightened the efficiency of offering rituals, a function useless to Lev.
Conversely, living beings without Barbatos’ divine power in the hunting ground, i.e., the prey, received debuffs.
They became heavy, easily exhausted, and had impaired vision.
Perhaps due to these debuffs, they got injured more easily and suffered headaches from the trumpet sound.
But Lev didn’t stop there. [Barbatos’ Hunting Ground] had no offensive power.
That’s why he had spent six months working on it day and night.
Lev snapped his fingers.
Then traps laid across Nevis activated, and screams filled the air from all directions.
A young boy’s white, thin neck twisted backward. The fingers of a woman, who retained her generosity despite a harsh life, fell off. A well-aged elderly couple hung side by side in the air.
A young man with a promising future lost both eyes and cried while holding his girlfriend’s hand, unaware of what had happened to her.
A widow who had successfully paid off her husband’s debt after ten years had her mouth to her cheek split open along with her only young daughter.
The Bellflua dumplings they were enjoying spilled from their torn cheeks.
“Hahahahaha! Offer your lives to the great god, Barbatos!”
The crazed Lev waved his hand.
A trumpet pattern on his right hand glowed red, and the same pattern appeared above the heads of all twenty thousand humans in the square.
[Targeted Hunt] debuff.
At the same time, blood sprayed from all directions, and the screams grew louder. As Lev began slashing towards the panicked crowd, the chaos reached its peak.
[Achievement: Civilian Massacre – You have killed ‘116’ civilians. You become slightly more unhappy.]
In an instant, the casualty count reached three digits. As the elderly and weak trapped in the snares died one by one, and as Lev continued to slash through the crowd, red haze emanated from his body.
Lev had used up most of his divine power mesmerizing the knights of the Guidan Marquis and setting up traps throughout Nevis.
However, every time he shouted “Offer!”, at least a hundred lives were sacrificed, and Lev regained his original, even more, power. And that power continued to grow.
Then, amidst the messages of civilian massacre achievements, a unique message appeared.
[Quest: Warmonger 100/10000 – Leadership ability increases by one level.]
It appeared when Lev slit the throat of a soldier.
Strangely enough, despite all the ‘Soldier Kill’ achievements being reset to zero, this quest accurately counted the number of soldiers Lev had killed, seemingly tallying up to a hundred.
Lev smirked.
Although indiscriminately killing civilians was not his intention, the main deity was clearly insane as well.
‘Filthy main deity. I’ll make you pay for killing my followers…’
As Lev swore, his eyes turned red, but he momentarily stopped.
What was I just thinking?
He was briefly stunned, but doubt mixed with hot and cold emotions quickly faded away.
All that remained was deep anger.
Furious for no apparent reason, Lev raised his head.
The bright red square and the struggling citizens in the snares caught his eyes.
Most of them were screaming and running in all directions.
At that moment, a group emerged in front of the royal palace. They appeared unscathed amidst the chaos.
There were about two hundred paladins and five hundred priests dressed in white, along with some aristocrats and their bodyguards.
Although it was unclear whether the priests included some monks, none of them bore the [Targeted Hunt] debuff. They must have been blessed by the priests.
“Count Ogarton, what is that?”
“Ugh… Those are divine symbols. They are beyond human understanding or research…”
When Marquis Ebeny pointed to the trumpet pattern in the sky and asked, Count Soarel Demetri Ogarton answered while rubbing his throbbing head.
The surrounding wizards also held their heads, seemingly suffering from severe headaches.
They wore robes extending to their heels, and their robes were purple, identifying them as from the Bollinu Mage Tower.
However, one robe had a different color; a green-robed wizard. He was a wizard contracted to the royal family and from the Iber Tower in the Conrad Kingdom.
Typically, magicians contracted for the defense of the royal palace were not employed from the Mage Tower located in their own country.
This was to prevent the Mage Tower from having any means to exert influence over the political arena, a necessity clearly demonstrated by the ongoing power struggles in the kingdom of Eisel.
In any case, this was not important at the moment, and the king asked,
“What on earth is happening here?”
The old king appeared calm despite the atrocities occurring in the square.
Perhaps it was because he himself was a monster capable of committing similar acts whenever he wished.
However, he was not a tyrant without concern for his people, and his voice was tinged with anger.
“…It appears an Apostle has appeared.”
Cardinal Paulo, standing beside the king, answered. He, too, appeared calm, but inwardly, he was horrified.
‘Cardinal Mihaer’s fears were correct. To think that Apostles truly exist…’
A few months ago, Cardinal Mihaer had contacted him directly.
Communications between priests were not something that could be done as easily as telepathy. It required the use of sacred or divine artifacts kept in each church, signifying that the old cardinal’s direct contact meant he was taking the matter very seriously.
“Do you have a solution?”
The king did not bother asking what an Apostle was. He was a ruler, not a scholar.
“…Yes. It is difficult to make a swift judgment at the moment, but in my experience, those who follow false gods can be easily subdued.”
As a cardinal of the Kingdom of Orun, he had faced many barbarians.
Due to the mountainous terrain of the Kingdom of Orun, there were many barbarian tribes living without contact with civilization, worshipping their own gods.
The more isolated they were, the more they resisted conversion, leading to many tribals being expelled from the kingdom.
Some had rebelled using the power of their false gods, and the cardinal had confronted them.
To be honest, he was only slightly surprised at first, but that power was nothing significant. The tribal priests couldn’t handle even one of his own priests. Most of their strange magic was easily countered with a single blessing.
Through capturing and studying several tribal priests, the cardinal learned just how feeble their divine power was. Or rather, he realized how powerful the divine power of the main god was.
The divine power that took long, arduous prayers of twelve hours a day to increase even a tiny bit was minimal but immensely valuable.
Because of this, Cardinal Paulo was confident. He considered Cardinal Mihaer’s caution of sending the Holy Crusaders an excessive worry.
But seeing an Apostle at this level, something only mentioned in ancient theology… The cardinal swallowed nervously and spoke hesitantly.
“I believe we can lift the curses placed on the people and the symbols in the sky. Give me a moment…”
He recited a sacred incantation.
“O aqua-dives humilis-maloe! Drive away this evil!”
The effect was immediate.
The land, stained red around the entrance to the palace where he stood, returned to its original color.
The trumpet symbol in the sky trembled as if flapping in the wind, then grew smaller.
“…Impressive.”
These were the king’s words.
Although it was praise, his dissatisfaction was evident, because the spell had only restored the palace grounds, while the vast city remained stained in red.
The cardinal spoke sheepishly.
“My faith is lacking… but there are over four hundred priests here. We will purify it soon. More importantly, we should first deal with that Apostle of the evil god. While we handle the Apostle, would you save the people, Your Majesty?”
“…So be it.”
The old king thought that he wished the knights faced the Apostle while the priests saved his people, but he agreed readily.
He instructed the three knight commanders to lead their knights and save the people, and ordered the captain of the royal guard to save the princes in the square…
A faint smile appeared on the king’s lips as he looked down at the square.
“Stay strong! A nosebleed won’t kill you!”
“Over there! Evacuate calmly!”
The twin princes, reassuring the knights and soldiers protecting them, were effectively leading the surrounding citizens back to the palace.
The king felt proud of his sons as he turned his attention to the nobles in disarray, speaking to them one by one to restore order.
Meanwhile, the Holy Crusaders and four hundred priests, following the cardinal’s command, advanced toward the Apostle of the evil god. As they began their march, a miraculous event occurred.
As if the land was splitting, the red-stained terrain of Barbatos’ hunting ground disappeared with every step of the Crusaders, who formed a battle formation and majestically crossed the plaza.
That sight appeared holy, causing the nearby citizens to clear the way.
Eventually, two hundred fully armed Crusaders and four hundred priests stood in formation before the Apostle of the evil god. Before the battle, the Crusaders cried out in unison,
“Oh, God! Remember the wicked ones!”
A divine mark appeared above Lev’s head.
The divine spell that inscribed a mark on those who had committed evil acts was a ritual performed by the crusaders before battles. Strangely enough, the mark appeared over the heads of some nearby citizens, but no one paid attention to it for the moment. The crusaders split the crimson land as they approached. The Church of the Cross was determined to ruin Lev’s plans. Faced with a difficult situation, Lev…
“Hahahahahahaha!”
…laughed disdainfully.
“In the old days, I used to resent this mark so much! But now I see it’s nothing!”
With just a glance from him, the mark began to faintly lose its glow. And when he stomped on the ground, the land that the crusaders had walked on and the palace the cardinal had restored turned red again. The faces of the crusaders and priests hardened.
“Servants of the filthy god! Feel the wrath of Barbatos!”
Lev shouted as he charged. The crusaders mumbled incantations, bestowing various blessings upon themselves before rushing towards the apostle, their armor gleaming brilliantly…
“Ah! It’s a Swordmaster!”
To their surprise, it was the crusaders who began to bleed. An aura blade surged from Lev’s sword, and the crusaders running towards the apostle in close formation were struck. The aura blade could not be stopped. To be precise, the red mirage surrounding Lev’s sword was not an aura blade, but it exhibited similar power through the divine force of Barbatos. Avoiding it and exploiting any gaps were the only ways to confront him, but the 200 crusaders became obstacles to each other, preventing any escape routes.
“Scatter!”
However, the crusaders responded agilely. They were fundamentally knights, the elite ones who had passed the rigorous requirements of the Holy Church.
“I don’t know how that heretic can use an aura blade, but aura blades don’t last long!”
A crusader’s shout revealed the Swordmaster’s weakness. As he said, aura blades were used only briefly in combat. The reason was unknown, but only the Swordmaster or nations that had experienced possessing a Swordmaster would know.
“Oh, God! Punish this heretic…”
“Shut that mouth!”
Lev’s sword slashed down like lightning, splitting a crusader in half. However, he realized fighting these crusaders was a significant ordeal. Each time his sword cut through the brightly blessed armor, chunks of Barbatos’s divine power were depleted, and moreover, the crusaders were highly skilled.
Many were skilled beyond {Swordsmanship.3v: Bart style}, so he couldn’t gain an advantage with swordsmanship alone. Yet Lev could withstand hundreds of crusaders due to the [Hunting Ground of Barbatos] buff, his body strengthened by divine power, and the aura blade.
“Deus proptius eris impus Shea! God, forgive the wicked!”
“Dant animos militis non kkeok! Grant courage to the warrior!”
At that moment, priests in the rear chanted holy spells. As 400 priests knelt and prayed, various miracles occurred. A translucent dome covered the plaza, a white cross symbol etched itself onto the crimson ground, and a holy presence descended behind the crusaders. Light pierced through the mark of Barbatos hanging in the sky, illuminating Lev’s body, and dozens of ancient-scripted disks floated, targeting Lev. Lev felt extremely irked.
It wasn’t that the holy spells themselves were unpleasant. There was no inherent disadvantage relationship between the divine power of the main god and Barbatos. They were just different powers.
However, as morning dew evaporates under sunlight, Barbatos’s divine power was seeping out of his body like vapor, which irritated him greatly.
‘…They are much tougher than I anticipated.’
To those possessing the main god’s divine power, neither [Eyes of Enchantment] nor [Target Hunt] were effective. [Trap Hunting] merely entailed a brief physical snag, and the traps that had caught the crusaders disappeared neatly. Only [Hunting Ground of Barbatos] had a slight effect on them, making their movements somewhat sluggish.
“Haaaaaap!”
Noticing this, Lev charged. Switching the sword between both hands, he swung the aura blade in all directions. The crusaders, puzzled by his sudden behavior, kept a safe distance, but…a crusader urgently shouted.
“Evade!”
“Ah!”
The apostle of the evil god recklessly rushed towards the priests in the rear. The praying priests were helpless against his assault.
“Protect the priests! Just a bit longer! Priests, retreat far back!”
The crusaders gritted their teeth. The enemy fought deceitfully and shrewdly. They tried to surround the apostle to buy time, but he mockingly broke out, attacking the priests or slaughtering the panic-stricken civilians.
‘If only he didn’t have that aura blade…’
This thought was likely shared by all the crusaders. Once the aura blade flickered out, the enemy was as good as dead.
“Drive him to the wall!”
“He’s escaping! Stop him!”
The battle turned into a chaotic melee. The grandeur of the initial clash vanished completely.
Around two hundred crusaders swarmed towards a single individual like a mob, while the mighty wielder of the Aura Blade darted around, searching for weaker opponents. It was an absurd sight, closer to a farce than a battle.
After a while, the crusaders felt a sense of unease.
‘Why is he avoiding the fight? Wouldn’t it be troublesome for him if he can’t capture us while the Aura Blade is still active…?’
“Wait! Something’s wrong!”
“That guy is stalling for time!”
One by one, the crusaders began shouting warnings, trying to change the atmosphere. However, their warnings came too late.
[ Achievement: Civilian Murder – You have killed ‘8891’ civilians. Misfortune creeps in slightly. ]
“Hahaha! Khahaha! How foolish they are!”
From Lev’s sword, crimson heat waves surged even more intensely. What had been gently encircling the blade like a faint shimmer was now roaring like a molten furnace.
“H-how is this possible?!”
It took time for people to die.
Those who died instantly from the low-lethality [Trap Hunting] were either very unlucky or were the weak, like children and the elderly. The majority of civilians only suffered gruesome wounds, not immediately fatal injuries.
However, a [Target Hunting] debuff was now in effect. It caused bleeding and cursed the wounds not to heal.
The tens of thousands of civilians in the square, afflicted by this curse, scattered in terror across [Barbatos’ Hunting Ground].
Whether they stumbled into traps set throughout Nevis or barricaded themselves at home, they were slowly dying from excessive blood loss without receiving the priests’ healing.
This was what I had orchestrated.
Killing civilians conspicuously in the middle of the square had been to draw the attention of the crusaders and priests. So they wouldn’t be able to run around and remove the [Target Hunting] debuff.
‘It’s over.’
Lev, intoxicated with a sense of victory, poured divine power into his blade. Thousands of lives burned, elongating the sword’s blade.
The crimson Aura Blade grew to a size that would easily cleave a giant cart in two. In the moment when despair filled the crusaders’ eyes,
– Bang!
Thunder struck.
From afar, Count Soarel Demetri Ogarton, enveloped in blue mist, pointed at Lev and shouted.
“That’s not a Swordmaster!”
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