Chapter 97: The Plague’s Onslaught (3)

Fire-like light coiled around the blade, riding along its edge.

It wasn’t the radiant glow as it had always been.

On the contrary, it was closer to its opposite.

Kuguguk—!

Fangs forged to destroy evil and ravage the enemy.

The aura woven of light was sinister to the core.

It was more fitting to call it terrifying rather than brilliant.

The sword trembled.

The shudder traveling up the hilt felt as if the sword was saying the power was too great for it to bear.

Richard’s brow furrowed.

Though it was a famed sword said to be crafted by a Dwarf, it quivered beneath the weight of a single aura.

The Monsters shrank back in fear.

A terror so great it suppressed even their base instincts.

But they were Plague Seeds—there was nowhere in this world for them to go alive.

Richard strode forward.

The tip of his sword, which had been pointed toward the sky, lowered to the earth.

A simple, unhurried movement.

Yet the aftermath was anything but simple or calm.

As the light exploded, the ground split open.

Dozens of Monsters were left scattered in pieces upon it.

“Kii, Kieeek!”

The Monsters, which had been staggering backward, were cut down in an instant.

It was nothing but a pitiful death throe.

Those beasts, so savage just moments ago, were now no different from cornered rats.

Gwang! Kwaang—!

Whenever the light flashed fiercely, a long gash was carved into the ground.

At the same time, filthy blood spurted from the Monsters’ grotesque flesh.

But not a drop of that blood reached the earth.

The aura, corrupted by rampant malice, evaporated even that foul blood on contact.

“Swordmaster, or perhaps something more…”

Gide, watching Richard’s back, swallowed hard.

Even as a Master Level expert, Gide found it impossible to fathom Richard’s martial prowess.

He had thought himself still above, but perhaps that had been mere illusion.

Now, Richard’s true strength was revealed to be beyond even that.

Though he had only just attained the realm of a Swordmaster and was considered mid-tier at best, what constituted that realm for Richard was extraordinary.

The Star that cut down everything in all directions was keener than any seasoned knight’s.

The light that illuminated the battlefield was mystical in itself.

Not a single factor supporting the warrior named Richard was ordinary.

“Che! Can’t let only the remarkable human warrior have all the fun!”

A surge of heat ran through Gide’s veins.

His grip on the axe tightened, corded muscles bulging with strength.

Hot on his heels, the Temple Knights charged at the Monsters.

Victory was already within their grasp.

“Aren’t you going?”

Aaron called to Gide, who stood motionless.

“I’m going.”

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll lose all your opponents.”

Finishing his words, Aaron sprinted forward, eager not to miss his share of the fray.

Why act as if the Plague is something so precious?

Gide glanced at his grandchildren and the knights before hefting his beloved weapon.

His body, which had once grown weary with age, had regained the strength of his prime thanks to the miraculous Fruit of the World Tree.

It seemed not only his strength but also his youthful vigor had returned.

He found himself wanting to walk alongside Richard, who was unleashing such might ahead.

Swish, swish—

He swung his axe in broad arcs.

Though his body, tainted by the Plague, creaked in protest, it was still manageable.

An old knight nodded and pounded the ground.

A blue aura sprouted from his spear, skewering half a dozen Monsters at once.

In the blink of an eye, he felled dozens and moved up beside Richard.

“Aren’t you overdoing it? Your joints must be aching.”

Richard glanced at him and joked.

“Keuk, keuk, I can’t let the Saint bear all the burden alone.”

They exchanged a brief laugh, then moved in tandem.

The aura of light split the red flesh, while the blue aura blew gaping holes through the enemy ranks.

What began as cooperation soon turned into a contest over who could accomplish more.

With two Master Level experts rampaging, nothing remained for the Monsters.

Yet there was nothing those creatures could do.

“Saint! We’ve come to support you!”

Knights poured from Riot Castle, driving swords into the backs of Monsters.

For the Monsters, it was disaster upon disaster, a hopeless situation.

“Kill them all! Don’t let a single one escape!”

The officers, bodies still burning with adrenaline, shouted their orders.

Kwaang—!

Spells rained down without cease, tree roots surged up in just the right places—the enemies had no respite.

“Ho-rr”

***

The sword trembled.

A Monster lost its head and collapsed at his feet.

No more living Monsters remained.

I gathered my strength and scanned my surroundings.

The ground was soaked in blood, red corpses piled like mountains everywhere.

“Cough!”

The knights who had fought by my side coughed up blood, one by one.

Their strong knees buckled, and they collapsed to the earth.

The agony of the Plague, suppressed throughout the battle, now surged forth.

Though I had slathered myself in Holy Oil for protection, all it did was leave me drenched in plague-tainted blood.

To hope that I would not be contaminated in this state was wishful thinking.

The soldiers atop the walls were surely no better off.

“This is a squad of plague-ridden knights… cough!”

Trying to lighten the mood, I opened my mouth, only to spit out a mouthful of blood.

Muttering curses under my breath, I wiped my lips.

“Of all of us, you’re the sickest one, Saint.”

Aaron came over, patting my back as he spoke.

It wasn’t wrong enough to argue.

Having fought hardest at the very front, the Plague must have seeped into my very insides.

While the Temple Knights exchanged a few light remarks after the battle, the men who’d rushed from Riot Castle said nothing.

Their cheers of victory and groans of pain were all swallowed down.

“……Is there truly a way?”

The captain of the Knights of the Royal Guard—who was also said to command the Royal Support Corps—approached and asked.

His name, if I recalled, was Martin Gastain.

I nodded in response.

Then I turned to the knights.

“Let’s go. If we stay here, all the soldiers will die.”

Leading the Temple Knights, I limped toward the castle.

The Knights of the Alliance followed, eyes shining with hope.

Only the knights of the royal family wore uneasy, worried expressions they could not conceal.

“They still lack faith, it seems.”

Avart appeared at my side, muttering under his breath.

As always, babbling about how they hadn’t come to their senses yet, that they’d soon wet themselves in awe of Hor’s Miracle.

Not caring if he was dying himself, he just had to chatter on.

“Shut up. Your breath stinks.”

I pushed Avart away with my elbow.

Maybe the Plague had reached his mouth; his breath was unbearable.

“Hehe! That’s why you need to show us the Miracle of Hor quickly!”

He backed away, still playing the fool.

As if I wasn’t already planning to.

In every daily strategy meeting, I’d always said this:

[Riot Castle will be the bulwark against the horde of Monsters.]

Just as I’d said, Riot Castle had stood its ground.

But it hadn’t been able to stop the Plague carried by the Monsters.

If things continued like this, our victory would be hollow.

A terrible disease had swept through the castle, and soon it would consume the kingdom’s vulnerable heart.

That was something I could never allow.

This nation—what future awaits it?

[Hor will be the one to burn away the Plague.]

Now it was my turn to fulfill my own words.

“Wait here.”

Stopping before the castle gates, I drew forth the Star.

***

The battle that began in the middle of the night only ended as the sun rose, then set again.

Though the bitter struggle ended in victory, no one let out a cheer.

The soldiers who’d fought desperately collapsed where they stood.

They could endure the relentless pain no longer.

“How empty this feels…”

A Bow tossed aside his weapon, muttering.

His hands, darkened with grime, seemed especially cruel, and the twilight sky overhead was even crueler.

They had defended the castle, yet none had managed to defend themselves.

The Bow, proud of his keen eyesight, scanned the fortress, but couldn’t find a single healthy-looking soul.

Especially those knights beyond the castle wall, standing on the soggy ground—if they were still alive, it was almost a miracle, given their condition.

But the soldiers atop the wall were no better.

It was only a matter of degree.

No one escaped the Death’s Shadow cast over their bodies.

They’d believed the Holy Oil would ward off the Plague, but now saw how futile that hope was.

Crack—

A nosebleed spattered down as one soldier coughed.

Without a moment to savor their victory, the soldiers writhed in agony.

Yet—

Strangely, the fear of death faded.

They said, near death, one grows serene—and now it seemed true.

There was only one thing that lingered on their minds.

“Who’ll defend the castle? If we all die like this, who’ll protect the kingdom?”

The Plague had only just begun.

More Monsters would surely come, yet Riot Castle would soon be filled only with the dead.

If that happened, today’s victory would be meaningless.

Those who had fought to protect the kingdom would all be remembered as having died a pointless death.

That was a bitter pill for the soldiers to swallow.

So bitter that one of them, unable to hold back, thrust his middle finger at the sky.

But… there, a Star had risen in the heavens.

“Hee…”

The soldier was startled.

Since when had the Saint, riding the Star, been looking down at them from atop the wall?

“Pfft.”

Unexpectedly, the Saint, who’d caught an earful, smirked.

“Have you grown bold just because you’re about to die?”

The soldiers nearby swallowed their spit.

How dare someone act so disrespectfully toward the Saint? They thought surely the blasphemer would be struck down before the Plague could claim him.

But no.

They had expected pleas for mercy, but instead, here was someone worrying about the kingdom, even at such a time.

A voice, half exasperated.

The Saint, his jaw set, gave a faint smile.

Hardship, they said, makes people stronger. It seemed the soldiers were finally becoming true men.

I couldn’t let them die, not now—

Radiant faith began to bloom from his body.

“I ask you this.”

With a snap, he raised his hand, pointing toward the sky.

Every soldier atop the walls, every knight at the gates, looked up.

“If Hor is with us, why should you fear the Plague?”

The faces of the men looking up began to change.

Something immense, overwhelming, was descending upon them.

“Does it seem as if His light could be shrouded by the Plague?”

The night sky gradually grew brighter.

It was nothing like a mere white night.

“I am the incarnation of your Hor. Do you doubt me now?”

The Saint lowered his raised hand and pointed to the ground.

“We are protected by Hor.”

A torrent of faith, enough to engulf the whole of Riot Castle.

A massive mass of light filled the sky and plummeted to the earth.

The spectacle was so overwhelming, it felt as if the sun itself was falling.

Kuuuum—!

In an instant, the world was washed white.

The Death’s Shadow that had blanketed the castle vanished without a trace.

The ground, the walls, even the tainted flesh—all returned to their original color.

“Believers, give praise for Hor’s Benevolence!’

A miracle.

To everyone else, it was truly a miracle of God.