Chapter 116: Giant Slayer (1)

Swoosh –

After a long moment, Allan’s hand, which had hesitated for so long, finally rested atop the outstretched hand before him.

In the case of Riot Castle, the greater the faith, the more awe was felt toward the one donning the flesh of ‘Richard’.

And even Allan, the Saint of the South, could not escape this.

Judging by the way he struggled to spit out his usual disparaging remarks, it seemed he himself was deeply confused.

“Ah, ah—Hor, hear us.”

Richard clasped both of Allan’s hands and spoke reverently.

Allan, too, reluctantly closed his eyes. Then, it was the Wizards who became restless.

Their dumbfounded gazes all fixed on the two Saints.

“Only today do the two brothers, at last, offer their earnest prayers to you.”

Whether they cared or not, Richard was about to take the lead in prayer when—

“We have come here to execute the unholy being you have spoken of. Please, watch over this Allan.”

Allan preempted him.

Despite all his earlier resistance, now that the prayer had begun, his attitude was grave and sincerely earnest.

Richard paused to look at him for a moment, then continued the prayer.

“We, who hold your grace in our hearts, wish to stand against evil. Please, watch over us, the two Saints, your faithful, and your believers.”

Then Allan’s voice overlapped with his once more.

“We shall sever the heads of all heretics in this world and make them pay for their blasphemy against you.”

The tone of their prayers was worlds apart.

Richard had to stifle the sigh that threatened to escape.

“Let those who have not lost their mission, and even those who are still ignorant, be granted your blessing, Hor.”

“…..Hor.”

The prayer, unusually laborious this time, finally ended.

Immediately after, a bright light blossomed from the two Saints’ joined hands.

Richard hadn’t suggested they hold hands for no reason; in fact, all of this was for Allan and the Wizards.

“Chuh!”

The light that engulfed the two Saints swiftly expanded, sweeping over the Wizards assembled behind them.

As the light touched them, their tense faces slowly relaxed.

“Hor hears our prayers. As long as that light remains with you, you will not fall to this cursed Plague.”

Richard released Allan’s hands as he spoke.

The Saint of the South only looked down at his own trembling body, unable to say a word.

His body was enveloped by a flame-like light.

It was more than enough to be a lamp in these cold, dark times.

Richard, after watching him for a moment, turned his head.

His gaze met that of the green-haired boy, Mar Garten.

In that brief instant, countless thoughts were exchanged.

“Aaron, Gide. Let’s go.”

With two knights in tow, Richard turned to leave.

“Hey. Northern Saint.”

At that moment, Allan’s voice called from behind.

When Richard turned, he saw Allan’s face twisted in a strange scowl.

Richard knew well what kind of emotion caused that expression.

“Don’t go around acting like you’re the only Saint, you stupid knight.”

It was the face he made when his pride was wounded.

And then—

“If any of the knights tries to hold me back, I’ll burn them all at the stake. Anyone who dares interfere with a Saint is no different from a heretic.”

It was the face he made when he had no choice but to acknowledge someone he didn’t want to admit.

Allan spoke as if spitting out each syllable.

There was a limitless jealousy in his narrowed eyes.

“It is I who am favored by Hor. That light is also mine. You were merely filling in for my absence all this time.”

He was jealous of Richard.

Because he’d ended up feeling awe toward another Saint, just like himself.

When the faith toward ‘Hor’ turned toward ‘Richard’, it became jealousy.

At those words, Richard smiled faintly and then turned away again.

“Let’s see what you can do, then. Hor likes those who are capable.”

***

The Magic Alliance, who had been standing with bated breath, neither grabbed me nor attempted any ambush.

Though they’d been dragged here by Allan’s willfulness, it seemed they at least had some grasp of the situation.

“What exactly is going on?”

When we had put some distance between ourselves and the Magic Alliance, Aaron asked in a low voice.

“A Saint of the South, you say. That man is clearly from the Marks Family…”

“That’s right. He’s the youngest of the Marks Family. And he’s also one who received the title of Saint from Hor.”

“…I see. But how…?”

Aaron and Gide couldn’t hide their surprise.

Well, I’d never mentioned anything about the South to anyone before, so their reaction was understandable.

“Saint, sir—”

Soon, we arrived at the place where the troops were gathered, and the officers rushed over.

Perhaps because they’d witnessed the light a moment ago.

As soon as they saw me, they immediately demanded to know what I’d just done.

I raised my hand and pointed toward the direction of the Plague fortress.

“The Magic Alliance has set up camp over there.”

“Th-the Magic Alliance is nearby, you say?”

“I told you before, didn’t I? Whether they like it or not, they can’t avoid this battle either.”

It was Allan who had coerced the Magic Alliance into participating.

But it’s not like the Wizards had just blindly followed him.

They must have calculated things in their own way.

For example, to resolve the Plague before things got any worse and to extract compensation from Baren later.

Perhaps they also wanted a legitimate reason for war.

But for now, there was no need to worry about that.

“First, let’s prepare to finish this battle.”

***

A grotesque mass of flesh.

Giant tree roots surged up on either side of the ominous core of the Plague.

One belonged to Adele, the other to Mar.

“It brings back memories.”

“It hasn’t even been a year, and you’re already talking about the old days.”

The knights riding atop Adele’s tree roots made a show of boisterous laughter.

The Alliance’s knights settled in skillfully.

Behind them, the rest of the troops began transporting supplies.

Arrows, holy water, and all sorts of materials shone brightly atop the gnarled roots.

Even cannons, painstakingly dragged here, were set up—forming a natural fortress.

“It’s much lower than before.”

Richard grinned, rubbing beneath his nose and nodding.

Then he raised his head to the sky.

It was heavy and overcast.

The pitch-black, grimy sky seemed even more indifferent than in the dead of winter.

“No good. Our heroes need a proper battlefield.”

So Richard himself decided to open up the sky.

Sssaaa—

A shaft of light pierced the damp earth.

In an instant, winter retreated and spring arrived.

“Glory to Hor!”

“Hor is watching over us!”

Those atop the wooden ramparts shouted in triumph.

Avart and Helga’s knights began singing a Holy Song.

Not to be outdone, the Alliance’s men and royal soldiers raised their voices in chorus.

For a moment, the eyes of the standing soldiers blazed with renewed fire.

The Blessings engraved on the backs of their hands shone all at once.

“Let us share the glad tidings through the lamp!”

“Now it is time for the dawn to break!”

A military spirit greater than ever before.

The surging morale seemed almost visible, like waves.

It wasn’t just Hor’s light or the Blessings that made this scene possible.

To the men of Baren, this very land was their Garden.

And they were the guardians of this kingdom.

Baren, devastated by the Undead and Plague, and the people who’d sunk into despair and sorrow beneath them.

While I was at Riot Castle, under the noble name of duty, they’d sharpened their swords for vengeance.

And now, at last, it was time to wield those swords.

Watching this, Lord Ord wore a look full of pride.

“When this battle is over, Baren will be even stronger.”

“Even if half of us have fallen, we’ve doggedly piled up the walls with what remained. Just as you, Saint, said before.”

Richard replied with a warm smile.

Baren, once a kingdom on the brink of collapse, was no more.

The Prot Kingdom would once again remember its promise, and the Wizards, once sworn enemies, now stood side by side before a common foe.

Kiiiing—

From the direction where Mar’s roots pierced the earth, various magic circles rose up and soon faded.

“The Wizards are setting up their fortress as expected.”

“That’s why their nickname is ‘the Prepared Ones’. It’s both a mockery for their reclusiveness and a grudging compliment.”

Then, Lord Ord added that we shouldn’t trust the Wizards too much. He even suggested that during the battle, there was a real possibility they might attack us.

“Of course, better to have them than not, but cooperation is impossible from the start. I just hope they don’t attack us while focusing on the enemy.”

“That won’t happen. The Saint of the South doesn’t threaten the faithful of Hor. Before Hor, there is no distinction between knights and Wizards.”

***

The knights and soldiers sharpened their blades, and the Wizards prepared their fortress.

Thus, three days passed.

A bizarre wail echoed from the fortress of the Plague.

At last, a complete giant—a grotesque hulk of flesh.

Its tightly closed eyes began to open.

The Red Plague Giant Kalgos.

Kalgos’s voice boomed across the land.

“Prepare for battle!”

The air around the giant trembled.

Baren’s men pressed up against the wooden ramparts, shouting to raise their morale, while the Wizards raised their staves high.

But Kalgos did not look at them.

『 Father 』

『 Where are you, Father! 』

He looked around with his blood-red face, ignoring all other humans.

The waves of faith in the air only made Kalgos even more frenzied.

Then, at last, his gaze stopped at one spot.

Atop the highest point of the tree, the man standing alone, holding a star.

The red giant’s lips curled into a ghastly smile.

But from his eyes, bloody tears streamed down.

“That damned wretch. Father, my foot.”

Richard slowly raised the star.

“You were bound to show yourself sooner or later. What’s with all the drama?”

His sharp, irritated voice seemed to scold Kalgos for appearing three days later than expected.

“Just a while ago, you were so tough even a blade wouldn’t pierce you, but not anymore. This is perfect.”

A brilliant radiance burst forth from the star.

『 Is that all…? 』

『 Is that the best feeble light you can muster? 』

Kalgos reached out as if to caress Richard.

In that gesture, mingled both heartbreaking regret and bliss for the father who had grown so small.

“Fine. That’s why I’ll kill you and make you my nourishment.”

In contrast, Richard’s aura toward Kalgos brimmed with killing intent.