269. Faith is a Lantern (3)
He straightens his posture and charges forward. Through the collapsing ceiling and pillars of the Imperial Palace, through the bricks and tiles that have witnessed the long history of civilization.
Piercing through the debris that holds the time of humanity, he moves in a straight line. The blade cuts through the air, shattering everything in its path.
-*Screech!*
A dark trajectory draws a line in the air. The Emperor, with a panicked expression, barely manages to dodge. A sword? He’s swinging a blade?
[How dare a human mage?!]
His confusion quickly turns to anger, and then to shock even faster. The weight and speed of the blade are extraordinary!
-*Clang! Clash! Crash!*
The Emperor’s hand. A claw covered in exoskeleton blocks the greatsword’s blade and deflects it. The body of a demon is different from ordinary matter. It is a mix of magic and blessing, existing somewhere between a spirit and a physical form.
Thus, ordinary materials cannot harm it. A simple iron sword? Even if it were blessed steel, it would be the same.
But at this moment, with just one strike, the Emperor’s claw crumbles and falls. Like peeling the scales off a fish, one by one. The exoskeleton turns to dust and scatters!
[What…! What is this…! You, you are not human!]
“No, I am.”
Amidst the swirling sword strikes, between the collapsing bricks and roof of the Imperial Palace, in front of the audience hall where black raindrops pour down, blue eyes filled with a gloomy light shine.
A value once mocked in the distant past. But now, after over two years, Fernandez knows what that value is.
The two blessings bestowed by Vaitas are themselves symbols of humanity. Vaitas’ arrangement was not just about the resurrection of humanity and the macro victory of the Temple of the Gods.
The symbol of humanity. The very meaning of victory. Not just sending powerful warriors and great warriors to overlay the world onto the main temple, but seemingly meaningless asceticism and gambling.
Yet, that is precisely what confirms the victory of humanity, of material civilization. That is why Vaitas needed the ‘pure, untainted soul of a human’ at that time.
The arrangement to rebuild the defeated human civilization. Sending a pure human to firmly establish the value of humanity, the meaning behind the entire process of asceticism.
‘Unyielding.’ A blessing to rise again and move forward amidst the destroyed ruins.
‘Immortal.’ The death of an individual is not the end, but merely a step toward the victory of all humanity. As long as the will does not crumble, civilization will not die.
“It has always been the role of humans to kill monsters and build legends.”
-*Screech!*
With a flash of light, the Emperor’s right arm is severed.
It might seem ridiculous to say this now, but human history has always been like this. Human history is the history of overcoming adversaries.
Myths and legends are often seen as novels glorifying the process of overcoming natural phenomena. Regardless of their truth, the essence of human myths and legends is singular: resistance against overwhelming phenomena.
Storms rage, volcanoes erupt. Earthquakes destroy buildings, and even the terror of the night and the cold of winter could have belonged to the realm of myth.
Even the monsters living in the forests off the beaten path. From trolls, ogres, and giants to mere beasts like wolves and bears. There is no weaker existence than humans.
Herbivore-like teeth. Physical strength and stamina that can’t even defeat a hunting dog of similar size. The one reason humans are different is that they never give up. That’s all.
Even in the face of overwhelming external forces, not giving up. Always finding a way. Not compromising.
When strong ogres or trolls live in caves and swing clubs, humans built castles, formed groups, and armed themselves with steel. The survival method of humans was to acknowledge their weaknesses and engage in a long struggle to overcome them.
Even if it sometimes seemed pitiful or crude.
Human history is proof of unyielding spirit. Even if everything is lost and crumbles, it is proof of the flames that will rise again from the ruins!
-*Crash! Crash! Crash!*
“Pray.”
You are facing a human.
-*Clang!*
“To any god, with any words.”
Did you think of them as prey? Easy-to-catch herbivores? Yes, that’s right! But at any moment, there is always a way to rise and overcome.
Enmagika, interpreting the enemy with accumulated knowledge.
Heretica, tracking the enemy in any situation.
Diemonica, never falling even in the fiercest of places.
-*Screech!*
“Desperately.”
The Inquisition Officer is the very symbol of human will. At this moment, you are facing us, so pray. Desperately!
Fernandez’s sword finally cuts off both of the Emperor’s hands and spins through the air before plunging down. Like a flash of lightning, the dark trajectory pierces the Emperor’s chest. *Crack*, piercing through the chest and striking the ground on the other side, Fernandez hangs a rosary above his head.
The Emperor’s compound eyes scan the rosary and then look into Fernandez’s eyes.
[Inquisition… Officer…!]
Unbelievable. The Inquisition Officer was just a persistent, annoying ‘human.’ Their weapons were ultimately made of respect and authority toward the Temple of the Gods. Each of them was nothing more than a mere human.
But how could such a frail, insignificant being stand against him?
[Hypocrites. Detestable hypocrites! You were all like that, but among you…]
What a disgusting hypocrite! Look at what you’ve done. Look at the power you’ve wielded! Look at the power you possess, the heart you carry, and the deeds you’ve committed! Prayer? Did you say prayer? To whom do you pray? To your god? Do you even have the right to do so?!
The Emperor’s voice split into dozens of strands, buzzing and resonating. His body shattered and exploded into pieces. Each fragment took on the form of a swarm of insects.
The insects floated in the air, forming a swarm. Click, click. The eerie sound of their wings rubbing against each other filled the air. The swarm that formed his body began to take on a human shape.
Fernandez, still holding his sword upside down, struggled to catch his breath. His body hadn’t fully recovered enough to handle such intense swordplay.
And how could it? It was the power of the Great Demon. Even Diemonica couldn’t keep his body intact.
But the same went for him. Having abandoned his human form and chosen to become a demon, he had lost his way back. He could no longer remain as the human Emperor.
The Imperial Palace had crumbled, and the throne was no more. With the political justification to prevent the division of the Dukes gone, the Leviathan Empire would cease to exist. This was the true end of the Empire.
If only he could finish off that noisy bastard here. Fernandez spun his sword and rested it on his shoulder, slowly pulling it back.
Watching this, the Emperor’s furious roar grew louder.
[You will fail! No one, no one can rule this land. Only I! This Empire belongs only to me, and it can never belong to anyone else! Forever!]
-Kugugugugung!
Fernandez slowly bent his knees, preparing to leap. He examined the demon’s body. While abandoning his physical form might have been a good move, his body was far from normal.
The backlash from the failed magic, the effort and power he poured into summoning Urcasia, all came back as a blow, leaving his spirit on the verge of crumbling.
The effect of the Five Thrones’ grasp was simple but incredibly powerful. The magical formation centered around the Imperial Palace, along with the numerous protective spells and the demon-worshiping incantations he had personally inscribed, were all destroyed in an instant.
He couldn’t have survived that destruction. It was clear that his spirit and flesh were rapidly disintegrating.
[You will all now submit to the Legion. Upon your corpses, the Lord of Decay shall descend! You, hypocrite! The most disgusting hypocrite who dares to speak of good with that terrible power! What do you believe in, to whom do you pray?!]
The Emperor raised his trembling hand and screamed. With his gesture, the Imperial Palace shook violently. The magical formations spread across the capital and the palace were draining his life, conjuring spells.
‘Can you interpret it?’
-It’s a summoning type.
‘The catalyst is the sky.’
-Not the sky, but the raindrops. Yes. I can interpret it.
Fernandez ignored the screaming Emperor and looked up at the sky. Beyond the polluted haze, he felt a gaze filled with malice.
The black rain falling from above. Each drop felt like a sharp arrow. Like a lance of malice covering the entire capital.
‘The summoning medium is the raindrops. The sacrifice…’
-All the citizens of the Empire.
Any civilian touched by this rain would immediately be corrupted, turning into a demon or melting away as a sacrifice to summon demons. And as he said, the Legion led by the Lord of Decay would descend.
This city is doomed. Fernandez shook his head. Something far more terrible than the Walker incident or the vampire uprisings was about to happen.
‘How to stop it?’
-If we can’t use magic directly, we’ll have to cut his throat.
‘Will the sword reach?’
-That’s a bit hard for me to answer…
Faijashi clicked his tongue. Well, physical combat was Fernandez’s domain. He carefully surveyed the area and prepared to strike. The angle wasn’t ideal since the bastard was floating among the ruins.
But he had to try. Fernandez spun his sword, sheathed it on his back, and prepared to leap.
At that moment, a voice came from beyond the ruins.
“Our faith is the lamp within our hearts.”
Both Fernandez and the Emperor flinched and turned toward the sound. A figure stood atop the broken pillars of the Imperial Palace’s Audience Hall.
“Thus, you shall do righteousness. You shall seek goodness. You shall pursue virtue. Then the Lord shall add to your grace.”
-Thud.
A small but heavy step. A tattered, rain-soaked robe fluttered up. Something faintly glowing was visible beneath it.
A Saintmetal Greatsword wrapped in a rosary. Not a grand holy sword or a magnificent relic. Just a consecrated iron sword.
It shone as resolutely as the blade of a guillotine delivering a death sentence.
“Zephis… Brother…!”
“I am no longer an Inquisition Officer, Brother Sernard.”
From beneath the hood, the face of an old but sturdy man appeared. Zephis glanced at Fernandez and smirked.
He solemnly declared to the Emperor.
“But as a humble believer, I stand here in place of a Brother who can no longer continue the battle. By the authority of the Brother, I shall conduct a heresy trial.”
“The judicial authority of the Inquisition, the right to execute heretics on the spot, the right to command exorcism troops, and the right to act as a proxy for Church sacraments. By the authority granted by the Temple of the Gods, I guarantee your participation.”
“May the Temple of the Gods bless us. The defendant’s penalty is…”
Zephis kicked off the pillar and leaped toward the Emperor’s head. Fernandez, with his arm stretched back, threw his greatsword with all his might.
Emitting a pure white light, the Keyblade flew like a ballista. Just in front of the Emperor’s body, Zephis spun in mid-air and caught the sword’s hilt.
“Execution!!”
With a sword in each hand, the old Diemonica slashed diagonally with all his might. The Saintmetal Greatsword and the Keyblade crossed, drawing a blue light in the air.
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