Chapter 190 - Damn Reincarnation

Spring of Light

Eugene Lionheart had crossed through the warp gate and breached the temple’s barrier. The news swiftly reached the minds of the holy knights and inquisitors.

The first three inquisitors to encounter him had been subdued in an instant. Three holy knights had let Eugene pass without even managing to respond...

With the situation as it was, Giovanni, a captain of the Blood Cross Knights, could no longer order his men to hold back.

The Blood Cross Knights had come to this temple without seeking their commander’s permission. Giovanni believed this ritual to be sacred and holy. As a knight who served God, he felt immense joy at being allowed to participate and lend his strength to it.

Giovanni was not alone in his unwavering faith. Every holy knight who had accompanied him considered it an honor and a joy to take part in the sacrament. What did it matter that their commander had not ordered them to do this? God presided over this undertaking. For a believer in the Light, nothing could be more important.

Even if the intruder was the Hero chosen by the Holy Sword.

The Hero’s willfulness and rampage must never take precedence over God’s will. Yes, Eugene Lionheart had entered without asking permission and spilled the blood of inquisitors who shared his faith. Such a rampage should never have been allowed to happen.

So he had to be stopped. Even if they injured the Hero in the process, they could never allow the man who should be the Incarnation of Light to ruin the sacrament of Light. Wounds to the body could always be healed, but a sin, once committed, could not be undone.

Especially if that sin denied God’s will and insulted His sacrament. Especially if the sinner was the Hero, who should be nobler than anyone and follow the will of the Light.

‘We must stop him.’

Giovanni’s earnest, unwavering wish reached the holy knights. Though it filled them with poignant sorrow, they shared his wish. Even if their opponent was the Hero. No, precisely because he was the Hero, they had to stop him. They must never allow the Hero to ruin the ritual.

Atarax’s intentions were the same as Giovanni’s. He had believed from the outset that this was how they should handle Eugene. They should have stopped him before he entered the barrier... With that regret, he issued orders to the inquisitors. This was not an opponent they could afford to treat gently. Forget that he was the Hero...

A hazy mist enveloped the temple. The holy knights and inquisitors could move freely even within this barrier. Their eyes were not deceived by the mist.

Their search should therefore have been easy... Yet they were struggling. Eugene had undoubtedly entered the barrier, but he was nowhere to be seen. Hundreds of holy knights and inquisitors searched the ruins and the surrounding forest, yet not one could sense his presence. He had entered the barrier only to vanish like a ghost.

‘Where the hell did he go? And how?’

Once their superiors issued their orders, the group naturally split. The holy knights gathered with other holy knights, and the inquisitors with other inquisitors. Ultimately, they were fundamentally different groups, unaccustomed to doing anything together.

The squad searching this area consisted of ten holy knights. They were on the outskirts, far from the temple, where the barrier met the world outside.

To find the right path through this barrier without being deceived, one needed a blessing from Cardinal Rogeris, who tended the Spring of Light. Without that blessing, one could not approach the temple, let alone the spring. No matter how long one wandered through the mist, one would only circle the outskirts.

That was why so many personnel had been stationed along the perimeter. Most of them were holy knights.

Eugene knew that too.

"... Huh?"

They were on the highest alert. They sensed something. No, it was encroaching upon them. This creeping presence... The holy knights’ expressions stiffened. Their lips moved in prayer, and they pressed close together.

The holy knights wore no armor. They donned it only when the Pope, the representative of the Light, ordered them to prepare for holy war. This ritual was not a war. It was a sacred ceremony of the Light. Why would they wear armor to such a ceremony?

But now they needed armor. All ten holy knights felt it. The hostility encroaching upon their senses was that ominous, that intense.

Their prayers summoned a stronger light. It wrapped around their bodies, forming armor. Armor of Light—a divine spell every holy knight of Yuras could use. The shape and strength of that armor of divine power changed according to the depth of its wearer’s faith.

A holy knight of the Blood Cross Knights could stop sword force with armor made of light. By raising a shield of light, they could withstand even stronger attacks and spells. That sturdiness was the very hallmark of Yuras’s holy knights.

The ten holy knights clad in Armor of Light lowered their helmets in unison. They raised their shields before them and drew their swords. Light enveloped the drawn blades, transforming them into long spears.

They covered their bodies with their shields and linked them together. Spears jutted through every gap. Without a moment’s hesitation, they had raised a shield wall of light. They had trained to use it against enormous monsters, demonic beasts, and enemies of equivalent danger, but...

What stood before the holy knights now was neither a monster nor a demonic beast.

Was he an enemy, then?

... They did not know. They simply did not want to think of the young man before them as an enemy. Was it because he was the Hero acknowledged by the Holy Sword, the first to appear in three hundred years?

That was not why. If they thought of him as an enemy, they would have no choice but to fight. They did not want to fight. They must not fight. The wills they had trained to be resolute were, in this moment, as fragile and easily shaken as a guttering candle flame. The holy knights were afraid to fight the young man standing before them.

Afraid to fight Eugene Lionheart.

"..."

Eugene stood still, watching the holy knights.

... The Spring of Light. He had emerged from its source. He had considered destroying it outright and making his way upward, but it was difficult to determine where all those intricately connected pipes led. He also had to consider what would happen to the spring if he destroyed it.

Not yet.

With that thought, he had left the spring’s source. He had barely taken a few steps... before arriving here.

From a mage’s perspective, this barrier divided space into sections, twisted them, and linked them together. Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been impossible even to enter the spring’s source—the deepest heart of the barrier, and its shameful secret.

Unless a miracle...

Unless that damned miracle guided him there.

"... Are you going to stop me?"

Eugene glanced at the Holy Sword in his hand. It emitted a gentle light. He glared at that light, his lips twisting.

"..."

The holy knights did not answer. They could not. The obvious answer to that obvious question would not come to mind. They did not want to stop him. They wanted to open the way for him. No, they wanted to flee. But they could not. Their mouths went dry, cold sweat gathered on their foreheads, down their spines, and in their palms, and their hearts pounded.

Fear forced the holy knights into silence. Their spears quietly edged forward. Their shields drew closer, locking together more firmly. Through their faith in God, they overcame that unbearably ominous fear.

Eugene sensed it. Their stiffness was gradually easing. As the shields locked together, their light grew brighter. The wavering spearheads settled, weighted by faith.

That sight...

Sent Eugene’s emotions out of control. His ash-gray hair stood on end. He had told them to move aside. If they refused and stood there like that, there was only one thing left to do.

Flames kindled by the White Flame Formula wrapped around his body. One step forward. That was enough. Once ignited, the flames burned through Eugene without stopping or dying down.

BOOOOM!

The light shattered. Flames shot straight ahead and exploded, swallowing the fragments of light. Eugene let out a long breath and kept moving. The holy knights’ shield wall could not stop him. The wall of light bound together by faith tore like paper before the raging flames. The spears raised with resolve were crushed before they could thrust. Armor forged from faith crumpled and shattered, barely preserving its wearers’ lives.

The Holy Sword had done that. The flames Eugene summoned were greater than the light emitted by its blade. Rather than wrapping and illuminating the blade with light, he coated it in sword force condensed and circulated through the White Flame Formula. In truth, there was no need to use the Holy Sword. This uselessly beautiful ceremonial sword was woefully impractical as a weapon.

He knew that.

Yet he wielded it anyway. He wanted to. With Altair, the Holy Sword that the fucking ‘God of Light’—whom they believed unconditionally righteous—had supposedly left in this world, he wanted to smash the light they summoned.

‘... It’s hot.’

He had not even used Ignition, yet his heart was pounding. His heated blood circulated far too quickly. Instead of cooling his body, the mana circulating alongside it only added to the heat.

The mist surged.

The ancient barrier had recognized an enemy threatening the temple. Every believer within it sensed Eugene’s presence. Apart from the three conducting the ritual at the spring, every one of them began moving toward him.

Eugene did not know that. Even if he had known beforehand, what he had to do would not change. Today, he would not retreat. If something blocked his path, he would break it. If it kept blocking him after falling, he would trample it. If it grabbed his ankle, he would cut off its hand.

The mist stirred with every step forward. The wind—was not blowing. Yet from far away, Eugene heard girls laughing, screaming, groaning, and crying.

What the hell was so omniscient and omnipotent about this Light, this God?

The flames enveloping the Holy Sword swelled further. Something lunged from beyond the mist.

He did not look. He simply swung his sword. A pale flash of the blade split the mist. A moment later, flames spread. Whiter and fiercer than the light, they tore the mist apart.

He walked past the screams. How many people that slash had cut, and how, was not his concern. He sensed hostility on every side. Their anger surpassed their fear. Overheated emotions transformed hostility into murderous intent.

The Hero was denying the sacrament of Light. He had attacked the believers he should protect and guide. There was not a trace of hesitation or mercy in his swordplay.

The Holy Sword.

He had cut believers with the Holy Sword. It was impossible, something that must never happen. The devout holy knights wept. The inquisitors who executed heretics bit their lips until they bled.

And they charged at Eugene.

The mist stirred. It was too thick for Eugene to see them clearly. But from beyond it, he smelled blood. He heard chanted prayers and sobbing.

"Why are you the ones crying?"

Eugene had many things he could use.

Akasha, which Senya had given him.

The treasures of Lionheart: Wynnyd, the Storm Sword; Pernoa, the Lightning Bow; Carbos, the Dragon Spear; and Asphel, the Devouring Sword.

The Moonlight Sword.

But he did not want to use anything else. Here, he would use only the Holy Sword. With the sword left in this world by the God they called upon through their sobs, he wanted to deny everything in this place.

The flames blazed fiercely. Eugene kept moving, his eyes radiating a savage, ominous glare. Every time the mist stirred, his sword moved. Screams rang out, and blood spattered or poured. Some dodged the swinging blade and lunged at him. They merely fell a little later.

He seemed to be swinging at random. Yet they could not get close. Approach carelessly, and they were cut down. Approach warily, prepared for the worst, and they were still cut down. Impatience drove them forward. The slash they had sensed coming struck their bodies.

Amid the relentless carnage, the holy knights changed formation. Trying blindly to block him would only diminish their numbers. They could not let him advance any farther.

Dozens of holy knights recited the same prayer. The Armor of Light protecting their bodies dispersed, then enveloped their entire formation.

Enormous wings of light unfurled, scattering the mist. Eugene stared straight at the sight.

The combined divine power of dozens of holy knights. As faith accumulated and prayers continued, the light swelled without end. The sun had long since set, leaving the sky dark, but the light they emitted illuminated their surroundings like a sun descended to earth.

The enormous wings of light rose high into the sky. The holy knights’ prayers grew louder. Their majestic cries sounded like a hymn.

The wings, which had soared high enough to pierce the night sky, plunged downward. Countless feathers of light rained down on Eugene like a meteor shower.

Eugene glared up and raised the Holy Sword. At that instant, an intangible force clamped down on his body with a grinding crunch. While the holy knights unleashed the Gospel of Demon-Slaying, the inquisitors had also pooled their prayers and summoned power.

The force pressing against his body was unlike the ordinary magic Eugene knew. Yet it did not carry the distinctive qualities of divine magic either.

It was probably a form of ancient magic, like blood magic. Hundreds of years ago, the Holy Empire had led a witch hunt against magic. Maleficarum’s inquisitors now held a monopoly on the spells they had seized after condemning them as heresy.

The pressure gripping his body kept intensifying. It was not merely constricting him. It interfered with the flow of mana, disabling him so he could not resist.

"Ha."

Eugene scoffed and spun his core. The Ring Flame Formula. The mana output pouring from his core increased explosively.

WHIIIING!

Agaroth’s Ring on his left ring finger reacted to the explosive mana he released.

A ring left by an ancient god of war who must have perished in the distant past. Agaroth’s will no longer remained within it, but over its long existence, the ring had been imprinted with spiritual energy resembling its master’s nature.

Watching the feathers pour down from the lofty sky, Agaroth’s Ring recalled the battlefields of myth. The ring knew what it needed to do at a time like this.

RUMBLE!

Agaroth’s Ring caressed the mana Eugene poured out. The godly power dwelling within it nurtured that mana, making it even more formidable. Lightning flame mingled with the flow of mana.

The inquisitors’ Binding of Control began to unravel. Few spells could surpass it in holding a being captive. Yet even with dozens of inquisitors casting it simultaneously, rather than just one, the best they could do was restrain Eugene for a fleeting moment.

By the time the Binding of Control broke, the falling feathers were already touching him. But they could not harm him. The wildly surging flames burned the feathers instead. Countless feathers became drifting embers.

At their center, Eugene raised the Holy Sword. Something mingled with the mana he controlled through the Ring Flame Formula. It was different from lightning flame. The sensation was unfamiliar, but not beyond his control. Rather than circulating separately, the godly power Agaroth had left in the ring blended into the mana Eugene commanded and flowed as one.

The Lionheart White Flame Formula.

The Dragonic-style Empty Sword.

CRACKLE.

Lightning joined the flames covering the Holy Sword. It drew the mana in the air into the flames. The sword force—the flames—swelled. Then they contracted again. Empty Sword bound the imperfectly expanded sword force with mana, repeating the process to coat it in layers.

Once.

RUMBLE!

The holy knights’ Gospel of Demon-Slaying changed shape. The wings merged into an enormous sword of light.

Any careless interference with the Gospel of Demon-Slaying’s Second Form would sweep them up in it as well. The inquisitors retreated to the holy knights’ vicinity, then joined their prayers and added their divine power.

The Sword of Judgment radiated an ever more brilliant light. Looking up at it, Eugene gripped the Holy Sword with both hands. Agaroth’s Ring emitted an eerie glow.

CRACKLE! CRACKLE!

Sharper lightning seeped into the flames.

Twice.

The condensed Empty Sword. Black spots spread through the white and blue flames.

The Sword of Judgment fell toward Eugene.

The flames swallowed the light.