Chapter 328
The land lying fairly distant from the battlefield. A wide expanse stretching from the Central Church to the Darek Union.
There, Archbishop Blurans warmed up before the upcoming colossal battle.
Recently promoted Archbishop Cyclamen was nervously gnawing on his nails. “I don’t want to die. I won’t die, right? Is it going to hurt a lot?” Cyclamen kept repeating.
Blurans looked at him, shaking his head in disdain, before finally clicking his tongue in resignation.
“Ts, ts. Live your whole life like that and die, why don’t you?”
“Blurans! How can you say such harsh things…! Ack!”
“This guy! Has he lost his mind? How dare you speak informally to a senior like me?”
“I-I’m an Archbishop now too! I can at least speak informally! And don’t hit my head! I have my limits too!”
“Shut up, you little brat!”
Even in the face of what might be their last battle, the two archbishops bickered away.
Having once been human themselves, they couldn’t completely shed that part of themselves.
“…….”
Meanwhile, Archbishop Purpur was lost in thought.
Excluding the missing Veris and the already battle-engaged Vargan, the hardline archbishops were gathered together.
“Are you really going to be effective in battle with so many thoughts swirling in your head?”
Blurans, who had been squeezing Cyclamen’s neck, chimed in.
It was a classic Blurans question, rooted in instinct, intuition, and physical sense for combat.
Purpur turned his gaze from the distance and smiled faintly.
“If you’re like this even on the battlefield, you won’t earn the title of Archbishop.”
“What on earth were you thinking so deeply about?”
“…I’ve thought about countless things, but to summarize it, I was blaming myself.”
“Blaming yourself?”
“B-Blurans! It’s great that you two are chatting, but, um, could you let me go first… cough! cough!”
As soon as he caught his breath, Cyclamen glared sharply at Blurans.
Blurans gave Cyclamen’s head another thump before continuing his conversation with Purpur.
“So what about this self-blame?”
“…Executor. Recently, didn’t Vargan showcase the ‘monstrous army’ he had been raising?”
“Didn’t you see the ‘Monster Army’ that came over?”
“Right… Was it Rubid Village? The whole bunch of humans and monsters were transported there by Lady Beled’s powers. That Vargan guy really is quite the strategist, gathering that many while attending Academia.”
Purpur couldn’t shake off the sight of that army and spoke while recalling the scene.
“Calling them the Monster Army might not be entirely correct, though. Most of those excellent monsters are actually ‘Familiars.'”
“What’s the difference?”
“Very different. Monsters can amplify their powers by forming contracts with humans to become Familiars.”
“Well, I don’t know the details, but I know the Executor used that village as a breeding ground. So, how does that lead to regret?”
“… The Executor achieved a significant accomplishment with actions I never even considered. Perhaps the title of Demon King’s descendant suits him better than me.”
The Demon King had once been a great threat in their world.
However, after being defeated by the Goddess, the Demon King’s son, who was also Purpur’s father, swore loyalty to her.
Purpur naturally became a believer of the Goddess Church after inheriting that subservience.
He loved the monsters and even had two of the Twelve Divine Beasts under his command, but he had never considered the prosperity of the monsters.
Passive and inactive.
Purpur assessed his life up till now that way.
“So you were feeling regret. That’s quite trivial.”
“… You’re right. I also wonder what meaning such regrets have now. … Yes. Right now, it’s time to focus solely on the battlefield.”
Purpur forced a bitter smile.
As their conversation drew to a close, Lady Beled’s mana began to resonate in the air.
Blurans felt that tremendous power swelling through his entire being and grinned broadly.
“Finally, it’s time to move out. I thought I might die from the anticipation.”
About 900,000 hardliners.
About 400,000 neutral forces.
A total of 1.3 million troops roared in unison.
Their overall commander, the Second Commander Beled.
As she stepped forward to prepare for a massive deployment never seen before, Blurans couldn’t contain his escalating excitement.
“It’s going to be one heck of a battlefield. Hahaha!”
*
Boom! Kaboom!
Chaos erupted in the Central Church with Bael’s arrival.
Meanwhile, the First Commander Amon charged forward with an army of one million toward the crumbling barrier.
‘The cracks are widening. If we strike with concentrated physical force, I think we can break it completely.’
Thanks to Bael engaging the main heroes inside, entering wasn’t causing any major issues.
If the Central Church collapses, the next targets are Wydgrasil and the Darek Union, followed by the Troa Empire and the Ocel Kingdom.
The plan was to devour the continent like that.
‘If things go this smoothly, there won’t be any need for Beled or Jephar to step in.’
Bael’s might was overwhelmingly greater than imagined, leaving the heroes unable to regain their composure.
The overwhelming power is beyond imagination, leaving the heroes in a daze.
Even though the moderate priests tend to follow Bael more than Amon, Bael cannot maintain this current state indefinitely due to the fixed total amount of mana.
It is merely a matter of time before the power taken from Beled is regained.
“However, what worries me is…”
Amon glared at Vargan, who was guarding the northern ridge.
Vargan had been assigned the task of handling the fleeing soldiers from the battlefield towards the Central Church, and despite the relatively small army he commanded, he was increasingly on Amon’s mind.
‘No. This is just unnecessary worry. Bael has resurrected and rifled through my memories. No matter how many tricks he pulls to maintain power, he’ll end up being uprooted after all.’
Amon shook off the distractions.
A year ago, she had seen Vargan summon up to 40,000 black Altifes with his unique spell.
Even if he didn’t go all out to hide his hand, 80,000… at most, 120,000 would be the limit.
That was enough to ensure they could suppress any contingency.
‘Furthermore, no matter how wildly Beled has been acting lately, surely she wouldn’t lead the hardliners in a coup just to maintain her papacy. She can’t be that foolish.’
Beled wasn’t that out of her mind.
She was a quick-witted woman, adept at calculations and understanding the situation. With Bael reincarnated, she wouldn’t be ignorant of the fact that those actions would be akin to suicide.
‘Everything back to the original position. To the time when the moderates held the center…!’
As the Central Church drew closer, Amon felt her wish approaching.
It seemed that no one could stop her march.
But then.
Rooooooar—.
Suddenly, the gigantic mouth of a monster appeared right in front of the Central Church.
It was undoubtedly Beled’s power at play.
‘Why…? Why is it out already? And not just inside the Central Church, but right in front of the castle walls…?’
This would collide with Amon’s army.
Amon, at the forefront, urgently commanded her troops to halt, and Archbishop Poras, filled with mana, shouted.
“All troops, halt—!!”
The First Legion came to a stop.
They too sensed something odd and went into alert mode upon witnessing Beled’s power.
Soon, an enormous army emerged from the monster’s mouth.
Beled and the moderate archbishops, along with 1.3 million priests, were watching.
“…What in the world is going on? Beled.”
Amon’s jewel-like, beautiful purple eyes sharpened.
Menacing mana began to creep along her skin, revealing her discomfort.
Beled, too, deliberately expressed her intent by igniting her violet mana filled with malice.
“What am I doing…? Indeed, I ask you. What does it look like to you, Amon?”
“…You’ve completely lost it. You’re not in your right mind right now.”
“I’ve lost it?”
“Yes, you’ve lost it. Don’t you realize standing here like this? Bael has reincarnated, the master of the scripture is right here! Can’t you see it? Or have you truly been enchanted by that man named Vargan? Unless there’s something wrong with your head, how can you be in such a ridiculous situation…!”
“Did you say Bael has descended? The master of the scriptures is here! Can’t you see that I’ve been elevated to the papacy? Or have you really been taking that human, Vargan, seriously? Unless you’ve lost your mind, this situation is just absurd!”
Amon felt her tone grow rough and took a moment to calm herself before continuing.
“Beled, as the leader of each faction, I’ll give you a warning, once and for all, remembering the years we spent together. Withdraw your forces immediately or head to the Central Church. If you don’t, you’ll live to regret it.”
“Regret… regret… If it’s about regret, I’ve already had plenty.”
Beled slowly closed her eyes, recalling the thousands of years spent in the center of the Goddess Church, never having strayed from the position of the Absolute Being, while Amon remained a moderate.
Caught in an inescapable web of weakness.
What they called a strong faction was merely a group ready to step up in support of the moderates. The longstanding imbalance of forces had brewed jealousy and anger, creating obsession.
“Our children have suffered from discrimination at your hands. As a mother, I’ve felt the guilt of not being able to provide an environment where they can truly soar.”
“Playing family games is where it should end. I gave you a clear warning, Beled.”
“The crazy one isn’t me, it’s you, Amon. I’ve finally begun to fulfill my role as a parent. My children have reached a position where they can showcase their talents freely. Yet, you expect me to return to that miserable life?”
“Beled. You…”
“You should have risen to your current position sooner. That’s my only regret.”
Gugugugugung—!
The mana of Amon and Beled weighed heavily on the air.
The massive force emitted by the two cardinals was enough to alter even the dark clouds above.
The archbishops and bishops following them also exhibited ominous mana.
Mindless priests drooled as they prepared to feast on their kin before them.
In the long history of the Goddess Church, never had there been such a frontal clash between cardinals.
The two colossal factions, moderates and hardliners, bared their teeth at each other.
“Beled, I understand your intentions clearly now. It seems that after ascending to the papacy, you didn’t kill me right away because you were waiting for Bael to manifest in our world, sacrificing the Formists and Formless Faction as offerings.”
Beled answered with silence.
Just before the battle was set to begin, Amon asked one last question.
The conversation they were having would mark the end of their long-standing enmity.
“Do you think you can handle Bael?”
Beled smirked as she replied.
“That’s not something for you to worry about, Amon. You’ll be the one following Ipos as a lion soon.”
And then, the battlefield began to roar loudly, as if it had no equal.
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