Chapter 326
“Cardinal Jephar, in charge of the 3rd Legion, is on standby at the rear. Pope Beled, in charge of the 2nd Legion, has stationed her troops near the giant tree known as Yggdrasil, planning to move with divine power in the midst of combat.”
Archbishop Amon briefed Bael on the current situation.
She provided a brief overview of the stalemate between humanity and the Goddess Church, explaining the reasons behind it.
“The Yggdrasil Church, which can be considered the focal point for humanity, has an overseer known as the Holy Emperor. The Holy Emperor resides in the Central Church… a city that is protected by a powerful barrier.”
The Central Church was incredibly resilient in a siege, thanks to its vast size and technological prowess.
If they completely cut off interactions with the outside world and locked the castle gates, they could withstand a siege for at least five years.
They could easily create drinking water with magic, and food was abundantly stored in the warehouse through magical processing, making it strategically advantageous to hide behind the barrier.
“….”
Bael gazed thoughtfully at the Central Church as Amon spoke.
The Central Church, constructed with advanced magic and technology, represented an architectural marvel that didn’t even exist in his era.
“If you need any further explanations, feel free to ask. It’s only been a short time since you returned; I understand it may be bewildering…”
While Amon continued speaking, Bael reached out toward her head.
The surrounding archbishops and bishops flinched at the small movement of the mythical figure they had only heard about in stories.
The immense quantity of mana emanating from Bael heightened all their senses with an overwhelming aura.
Then, Bael’s mouth moved for the first time, his hand resting atop Amon’s head.
“Show me.”
Zuuuh—!
In an instant, Amon felt a tremendous pain surge through her head.
It felt as if her very brain was being consumed, causing her legs to stagger.
“A-Amon, my lady…!”
“Bael, this is not acceptable! Amon has done so much for the stability of the Goddess Church…!”
The moderate bishops gasped in alarm.
However, Amon gestured for them to remain quiet, breathing heavily as she assured them she was fine.
Taking a deep breath, I assured myself that everything would be alright.
Amon struggled to maintain her composure. After a brief moment, as the purple mana stabilized, Bael slowly released his grip.
“…Is it Beled who holds the scripture?”
Bael murmured softly.
His eyes seemed to pierce through the entire universe.
A holy yet noble power lingered within him.
Amon managed a smile despite the rising nausea.
“When you viewed the culmination of all my memories over thousands of years, I can’t help but marvel at how transcendent that power is.”
As she said, Bael absorbed all the information Amon possessed.
Having been a key figure in the Goddess Church for so long, even though Bael had just woken up, he could see everything clearly.
Bael turned his gaze towards the back of the Central Church.
In the northern ridge, an army of 100,000 Altife awaits.
“…….”
For a while, Bael fixed his eyes there.
He mumbled, keeping one particular figure among those 100,000 soldiers in his sight.
“The descendant of Schugenharz….”
As Bael mentioned Vargan, a hint of worry crossed Amon’s face.
The first memory he perceived was none other than Amon’s. He had undoubtedly recognized Vargan’s threat, and once the war concluded, he would surely express a strong stance against him.
With the return of the true Pope, Beled would step down from her position once again.
Amon would eagerly position herself at the center of power, having proclaimed herself Bael’s loyal servant.
“…….”
Bael gazed at the expectant Amon and the 1 million Altife.
Most of the forces were moderates. Although they were under the goddess’s protection, they genuinely followed not him but Amon, the leader of the moderates.
Bael was well aware of that and uttered an incantation infused with immense mana.
“Obey.”
Thrum—!
In an instant, the violet light spread from Bael.
Amid the overwhelming magical power, Amon quickly understood a change had occurred.
—Kriiiirrrk!
—Craaaack!
The excited Altife forces.
Except for the Archbishop and a few bishops, all the troops seemed awakened as if they’d been injected with adrenaline.
‘Not only that… they’ve completely stripped me of my control over the priests…!’
Amon realized she could no longer command the soldiers at will.
Just moments ago, the Altife had been willing to risk their lives at her command, but now they sought to honor Bael as their true lord.
Now, she could only handle the Altife within the limits set by Bael.
With the power of the purple scripture, Bael had restored control with such ease.
“B-Bael…! There’s no need to go this far…!”
Amon, somewhat flustered, tried to say something but quickly fell silent.
Bael had long since disregarded her. His focus was on the Central Church. And behind it, on the man.
Bael spoke first, directing his attention to the Central Church.
I fixed my gaze on the Central Church.
“First, that one.”
*
‘Who is the strongest among humanity?’
People love to discuss such topics.
In noisy taverns with red-nosed patrons, and in the playgrounds where children wield wooden swords pretending to fight, this theme often arises.
Each time, certain names inevitably come up.
Gulemashia, the chancellor and legendary figure of the Academia.
Helion, the hero famous for his numerous achievements and good character.
However, when it came to the noble warrior known as Clemens, no one could think of anyone other than one man.
The number one hero on the ranking list.
Sylvester.
With his brilliant red hair flowing, the middle-aged man effortlessly sliced through enemies with his great sword, a figure who was both the father of Clemens and her idol.
A mountain that seemed insurmountable, regardless of how hard she tried.
The ultimate shield and sword protecting the Holy Emperor.
The last bastion for humanity. An unyielding hero.
Sylvester exuded an overwhelming presence, so remarkable that no praise or title ever seemed excessive.
Someday, she wished to become a hero like him.
Deep in Clemens’s heart, that longing was always firmly established. Standing on the same battlefield as him at this moment felt like unmatched glory.
“The day has finally come when I stand on the battlefield alongside you. I’ll show you a good performance to earn your recognition.”
Clemens vowed, standing behind Sylvester.
Meanwhile, a timid voice that seemed out of place for this battlefield came from below the castle wall.
“Is… is that really the Pope…?”
“Can we win…?”
Mercenaries around her murmured. They began to tremble as a tremendous magical presence made an appearance following the ritual.
But Clemens was not afraid.
Who protects the Central Church?
Who stands boldly, looking down at the enemies?
Hero Sylvester! With him out in the open, what is there to fear?
“Don’t be afraid!”
From the high southern wall of the Central Church, Sylvester shouted.
His solemn voice straightened the spirits of the disheartened soldiers, gathering their hardened gazes to one point.
“The appearance of that monster means we are on the brink of victory!”
Sylvester galvanized the soldiers.
In what could possibly be their final battlefield, he lifted their morale so everyone could give their all.
“Leader of Altife! Zero Risk Brigade! The moment the author’s neck falls to the ground, humanity will finally achieve complete superiority over Altife!”
Sylvester unsheathed his great sword.
The weapon, stained with the darkness of the past after slaying the archbishop, added weight to his words.
“Rejoice instead! We can break this foul bond in our generation!”
“That it exists!”
Likewise, the blackened armor he wore was also a Judgment Weapon. With two Judgment Weapons in his arsenal from the battlefield with Altife, Sylvester felt an overwhelming sense of security.
“Rejoice! The enemy’s leader walks willingly to the execution platform!”
His boisterous voice echoed throughout the Central Church. Sylvester was confident in humanity’s victory.
“And celebrate! This battlefield will forever be recorded in history as the day humanity crushed the monsters!”
“Wooaaahh—!!”
Without anyone timing it, the Heroes, mercenaries, and Noble Heirs all shouted exuberantly.
Sylvester felt the heat for a moment, then quieted the crowd before speaking.
“No matter how strong the enemy is, it’s still Altife! A monster that breathes its last once its core is shattered! Warriors who have lived through countless battles, are you still letting fear dull your blades?”
“No—!!”
“The victory of humanity is right before our eyes!”
Sylvester extended his sword, targeting Bael.
A red aura flowed up the blade like a dragon settling in.
“Everyone, rise with your swords and staffs and fight the foes!”
The soldiers’ cheers swelled even louder.
Clemens looked proudly at her father’s back and smiled slyly.
If there is only one savior for humanity, it must be Sylvester.
The swordsmanship was so advanced it was almost unfathomable.
An indomitable spirit and a physique trained to its limits would surely slice through even the Pope.
Clemens thought of this while wrapping her aura around her spear as well.
It now seemed as if she was at her father’s feet, having reached transcendence.
“I’m doing my best.”
The battle wouldn’t start immediately as the Central Church’s barrier remained up, but she prepared to fight…
—Clang!
It sounded light, like breaking glass.
The invincible barrier surrounding the Central Church appeared to be breached with that little ease.
In the painfully slow moment, Clemens absorbed the unbelievable reality before her eyes.
Pope Bael, invisible in the enemy ranks. The barrier pierced with precision. The howling wind and purple mana. The blood erupting from Sylvester.
“Ah, aah….”
The head of her disappeared father. The lone body of the hero left behind.
And right in front of her, a single Altife glaring at them.
“Ahh… Aaaah…!”
Just moments ago, Clemens’ face, filled with hope and determination, contorted in terror. Extreme fear consumed her in an instant, breaking her once steadfast will.
—Do not be afraid.
He seemed to be saying that without moving his lips, just watching her.
—Your suffering will only extend.
