Chapter 145: The Roar
At the far end of the room, on a high platform, sat a grand chair that looked to be made of pure gold, standing there all alone.
Light streamed through the colorful stained glass window at the back wall, illuminating the worn armrests and aged leather, just like the frail, gaunt figure that stood up from the chair, hunched over and moving slowly, trembling as if a light breeze could knock him over.
But as he stood, dazzling holy light swirled around him, blinding brilliance bursting forth in all directions!
In that moment, the silhouette seemed to unexpectedly gain a strong absorbing quality, causing even the flames burning brightly in the room to be overshadowed, and shrouded in golden light, the hazy figure appeared proud, powerful, and dangerous. Just standing up was enough to instill in me a heavy psychological pressure that felt almost crushing.
Alive…
Alive?!!
Who is that, who—
My head was still spinning as my feet unconsciously moved forward. Suddenly, I heard a “whoosh” behind me. In my line of sight, lightning flickered, revealing Carlos clad in silver armor, his not-so-broad back abruptly appearing before my eyes.
The man held his longsword at his side, gripping it tightly, while his other hand shot out to stop me. He said nothing, didn’t even glance my way, his focus trained on the figure up on the platform—the silhouette trembled and took a step forward.
“Whew…”
I heard him let out a long sigh.
Buzz, buzz, buzz…
Within the quivering presence of the divine miracle, the dazzling holy light began to fade from around him—it didn’t seem to be a hostile gesture—he was injured, even walking with a slight limp. Carlos and I instantly realized this, and the lightning around him quietly subsided.
“You are…”
As the light grew less blinding, Carlos seemed to see the figure’s face clearly, speaking in disbelief: “You’re St. George…”
Huh?
I blinked, confused.
St… George?
The silhouette didn’t respond, slowly stepping forward for a second and then a third time, descending the platform.
A few seconds later, as the golden glow faded, I finally got a good look.
It was a dry, withered old man with gray hair, who looked as if his time was up. Half his body had been eroded by the Abyss, grotesquely shriveled, his left leg completely gone, replaced by a half-transparent, spectral leg formed by the faint shimmering of the miracle, making his walk appear awkward.
Clouds of black d*ath energy billowed up from his body, and as the holy light diminished, the black smoke only grew thicker. Yet the old man seemed completely oblivious. After stepping down from the platform, he first surveyed the empty hall for a moment, staring at the several empty chairs, deep in thought before his gaze rested on us.
Well, more accurately, it rested on me.
“Ah…”
He sighed and said, “It’s you.”
His voice was so raspy and old that it was almost indecipherable, but it felt as if he recognized me immediately.
“If it’s you, I suppose that’s not so bad…”
Those words were head-scratchingly vague, yet they brought an unexpected relief.
“What?” I didn’t understand and wanted to ask.
But the next moment, St. George’s wrinkled, seemingly dazed face, with his dim, murky eyes, became shrouded in dead smoke.
He suddenly lifted his hand weakly and waved, revealing the small door on the left side of the hall—I only now noticed it was there. A thin layer of light mist covering the door dissipated into sparkles.
Carlos instinctively pulled me back as the old man’s body swayed and began to fall forward, the last flicker of golden glow from him starting to fade away.
He didn’t crash into the ground; instead, he turned to ash, countless gray particles drifting throughout the hall, merging with the suddenly dispersing black smoke, the gray gradually breaking apart, transforming into blue mist that flowed out through the stained glass, vanishing into the distance.
Carlos yanked me back to the door, and we both stood there, stunned, unsure how to react.
“Dead…”
“Dead?”
After a long pause, I hoarsely asked, “St. George just… died like that?”
I still couldn’t believe it in my heart, “Did you see clearly? That was really St. George? How could he…”
“……”
Carlos didn’t answer.
Because we both knew, that was St. George. No matter how hard it was to believe, it couldn’t change the fact that the old man died before our eyes, whether he was waiting for something here, or guarding something.
“He…”
“Did he fight against the Mother Deity? Or…” My mind was a bit foggy. “What did he mean by what he just said…?”
I instinctively began to look around. The council chamber wasn’t very big; everything was in plain sight. Thanks to the flickering firelight, I quickly spotted something glowing on the grand chair St. George had occupied earlier.
“What’s that—”
I approached the high platform and saw clearly that it was a staff, a very ornate staff. I remembered that Angel had once held this staff; it was the Pope’s staff.
Beneath the staff lay a letter.
“A letter?”
Ignoring the staff, I pulled the letter from underneath. Carlos walked up beside me, and we exchanged glances before spotting the name on the envelope, both of us momentarily stunned. I said, “It’s addressed to Margaret…”
“Princess Saint?” Carlos furrowed his brow; he hadn’t relaxed since we entered the hall.
“Yeah.”
I nodded, gripping the envelope, hesitating for a moment. “Should we open it?”
“Of course,” Carlos urged, “At a time like this, what’s there to hesitate about?”
True.
So I pondered the envelope and unfolded the neatly folded paper inside, the tightly penned handwriting strong and clear, the header reading, [To the Faithful Believer, Princess Margaret of the Sanctuary:]
“It’s St. George’s handwritten letter,” Carlos suddenly said. I raised my eyes to glance at him, “You recognize his handwriting?”
“No.”
The man slightly shook his head, pointing. “It’s signed at the bottom.”
“……”
Next time you decide to fart, please don’t sound so serious about it.
That thought spun through my mind but remained unspoken; I had no desire for sarcasm. I continued reading the letter.
[Humanity has reached a critical juncture of life and d*ath.]
[Humanity’s faith, spirit, heritage, and survival—everything has come to a perilous moment of disaster.]
[Regrettably, at such a time, I must convey this terrible truth: the Holy City has fallen. I am powerless to stop it. You and those courageous knights still holding the Holy Wall, all your efforts and sacrifices will become meaningless. The disaster will soon awaken; it is already too late; I deeply regret it.]
As I read on, I unconsciously began to recite the words aloud.
“I regret my failures, I regret my impotence, I regret my inability to keep my promises. At this point, I feel profound remorse. Perhaps my decision to personally witness the Holy City was fundamentally wrong; the outcome here has long been predetermined and cannot be changed. I should have died at the Holy Wall, along with the valiant First Knights, with those who trusted me, followed me, and held steadfast faith. I should stand with you just as I did many years ago, fighting and then dying, but I did not. I am guilty…”
A crisp, feminine voice echoed through the empty hall, clear as day, its reverberation seeming to pass through the stained glass, reaching afar.
The perspective pulled upward, revealing the majestic dome of the church, the outline of a silent city, dark clouds rolling overhead, a streak of light breaking through, beyond the light, vast desolate land extending towards the far southern border of Silgaya, a territory tainted by chaos, eerily silent like the Holy City, shrouded by shadows of despair.
The collapsed Holy Wall was already wrapped in dark, gray mist, along with the most sincere and brave warriors who had once held steadfast here, now buried with them.
Chaotic energy surged through the sky, thunderous clouds roared down upon the earth, and the besieged knights withdrew continuously. Without the Holy Wall’s blockade, humanity quickly lost one city after another. A dreadful mist of d*ath began to sweep over and consume the territory of the southern Republic, revered hero warriors died mercilessly, having long since run out of supplies, reminiscent of a cornered rat, trapped with nowhere left to retreat.
At the Pervensie Canyon defense line, smoke signals rose everywhere, and people, steeped in despair and fury, restructured themselves, holding steadfast in the canyon fortifications. They perched atop the high walls sealing off the valley, flying the Church’s cross flags, the Warhammer Army flags of Alectine City, and many more city battalion flags, yet conspicuously absent was the flag of the Emerald City king’s army.
Letters begging for help were sent out one after another, like a cow diving into the sea, vanishing without a trace. In this moment, they realized that no help would arrive—they were left to defend the fort alone with less than 10,000 allied troops and 2,000 surviving knights. Some contemplated leaving, but knew that they wouldn’t get far.
Because their mothers were still here; their children, loved ones, were still here.
The power of chaos relentlessly advanced, consuming land far faster than the civilians could evacuate. Escaping outright was simply not an option; the only choice was to hold the line in this moment, to win even a slim chance of survival for the many thousands of people in the towns behind them, for their friends and families.
But no one believed they could hold out.
No one believed they could survive leaving the fortress walls.
“God—”
In the heart-wrenching, desperate cries, ahead, the black mist of d*ath had already appeared in view, massive and hideous monsters clambering over the canyon, their deformed heads looking straight at the fort. One, two… soon escalating to over a dozen, twenty—a group of abyssal monsters birthed from gigantic, decaying trees symbolizing d*ath and obliteration, were flooding in from every direction, all visibly apparent to everyone.
On the ramparts, someone raised their flag, shouting loudly, their eyes reddening with strain. “Come on! Warhammer Army, this is the time we fight to the d*ath!”
“For the glory of the battalion, to wash away the shame of Alectine City’s fall! Today, we stand shoulder to shoulder with the honorable Church Knights. This time, we shall fight and d*e together, not retreat an inch!”
Behind, others echoed, “Not an inch back—”
“Warriors, rage! Warriors, roar! Warriors, d*e here! Stow your tears, stow your sorrow, we are a copper wall, an iron wall! We will d*e here, but d*e! We must pull out their fangs, chop off their claws! We will define the meaning of d*ath ourselves! It will be assigned by those who live because of us!”
“The battle of the canyon fortress will undoubtedly enter history and be remembered for eternity; we will win big—”
On the other end of the rampart, Isaac the Pope Knight, looking fierce and clad in loot, was also shouting out to rally the knights. “Beyond this fortress lies countless cities, and the thousands of people within! They don’t even have time to escape, and what we must do is let them go first. It’s a very simple task, isn’t it? Who are we—”
“The Judgment’s Fist!!!”
Over a thousand Church Knights raised their swords, many among them calling out the name “Grace’s Balance.” They marched forward with heavy steps, lining the ramparts, drawing their bows, arrows buzzing, one by one igniting with golden light.
“I, Isaac! Hereby declare! I am the one who has left you behind; this is the fearless knight’s mission! I am willing to pay any price for my sins, even if my soul falls into the Abyss and suffers for eternity, I ask for nothing more than to hold back these demons for a moment! I only ask that after your deaths, your souls remain unshackled by the Abyss and can safely return to the deity!”
“All troops, heed the command—!!”
The bald, fierce man shouted, and not far away, another knight in golden armor joined in, shouting, “Grace’s Balance, hear my command!”
More shouts erupted from atop the ramparts.
“Warhammer Army, heed the command—”
“Margom City Guards, respond—”
“Faith Organization, prepare!!”
Those voices cascaded like a tidal wave, shaking the skies and valleys. Behind the barriers, Saint Margaret stood high, gazing at the heroic scene of the warriors. The Saintess Classes by her side all watched the spectacle, some teary-eyed, and one choked back her voice, “Saintess Class, hear my order…”
High above the sky, it seemed the voice of the young girl reciting the letter echoed.
[Perhaps this letter will never reach your hands, but even so, I want to apologize. I must apologize to you, to Isaac, to all the warriors who hold steadfast to the Holy Wall and had hope in me, I’m sorry for allowing things to develop to this point; I bear great responsibility, the Williams Family bears great responsibility.]
[For all these years, what I hoped to construct was, no matter what I did, I have erred. But my ambition has always been to build a prosperous Western Continent, a Holy City with cohesion, a council that stands together through storms; it has always been so.]
[Even if there are many sacrifices to be made, and numerous fallen predecessors, souls lost on the road, and though obstruction seems insurmountable, still I remain steadfast in belief. And you have always stood by Angel; your faith has never truly swayed toward him. We understand this, we might indeed be right, but we have failed, and the responsibility rests with me…]
On the fortress walls, bl**d boiled, yet some wept in the wind, gritting teeth, their eyes red, looking at the advancing black monsters. Someone shouted, “They’re coming—”
“Get ready!!!”
The warriors unfastened the medium orbs from their waists, the Faith Organization stood on high in the watchtower, chanting in unison. The light barrier slowly rose, and everyone prepared for the battle, eyes wide, their bodies tense and sweating profusely.
The next moment, the first monster crashed violently into the Sin Barrier, stopped dead in its tracks. The massive impact kicked up a sudden gust, followed by an explosion that rocked the ground. The earth trembled while the walls of the canyon collapsed, burying them underneath.
However, with a “whoosh,” two abyssal beings flew over the canyon, their speed astonishing. They were met by the massive light barrier but their fierce impact left the Faith Organization members on the tower pale, with some doubled over, spitting bl**d.
“Hold on—”
Someone cried out, and soon countless bursts of fire and lightning leapt from the ramparts, erupting through the Sin Barrier, leaping across the canyon, engaging in fierce combat with the two monsters. Flames, lightning, and the Power of Order intertwined as the battle reached a fever pitch, while the Holy Lances whooshed past.
Yet humanity’s resistance proved almost futile in front of the abyssal monsters. More deep ones arrived, the third and fourth, prompting some to begin retreating, while others were engulfed by the sudden onslaught of dead smoke, turning to ash and becoming the sustenance of the monsters.
Then the Sin Barrier shattered under the assault of several abyssal creatures.
Almost in the blink of an eye, atop the wall, Isaac raised his hand high: “Release! Arrows—!!”
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!!
Golden streams of light, burning arrows, shot forward like a swarm of locusts. The monsters had nowhere to hide, all struck by several arrows. But the shining arrows only served to slightly hinder them. They charged forward with even greater speed.
In an instant, they reached the ramparts.
[I could not change them, could not alter the greedy nature of the few in the Church, nor make them realize that when disaster strikes, the only thing humanity can lean on is our own kind. I have failed to change what seems predestined over countless centuries, and I could not plant faith genuinely in the hearts of every saint.]
[Underneath their glamorous facade lies antiquity, the extension of old-fashioned ideas, especially the superiors’ delusions about Gidales, a heartfelt fear that has driven them into madness, attempting to pin the hopes of salvation on the oppressed populace, betting the lives of the people to preserve their own.]
[For decades, I have felt rage for their deeds, and shame for their grand ideals. Yet throughout my life, I still ultimately failed to change anything. I couldn’t even alter the fate of my family, who in their last moments despised me, preferring d*ath over acknowledging me. I mourn that, I empathize, but I was powerless.]
“Warriors!!! For the families behind us, the time to d*e has come—!!”
“Ahhhhhhh—”
Holy lances soared into the skies, and the d*ath smoke swirled like monstrous black vines, every strike towards the ramparts seized countless defenseless lives.
Humanity’s feeble glow couldn’t hinder the monsters charging into the fortress. They broke through the defenses, extinguishing the resurrected Sin Barriers. The wall crumbled under the relentless bombardment, crashing down with a thunderous roar. The clergy in the Faith Organization, still soaring mid-air but spitting bl**d, were soon swallowed by the following waves of dead smoke. Knights, shielded in light barriers, battled with the bizarrely shaped abyssal creatures. They howled furiously as they rushed in, only for their light barriers to shatter, meeting their demise in the black mist.
Then, more warriors, more powerful Pope Knights surged forward.
[Chaos breeds contention, and contention breeds further chaos; an endless cycle of desire. It seems we always enjoy building everything up, only to then tear it all down ourselves. Our greatest enemy has never been the Abyss, nor Gidales; it never has been, not since ancient times. They even once extended a helping hand to preserve our civilization’s spark, but dear God, please see what we have done to them.]
[In my youth, I was disillusioned by everything, believing that our greatest enemy has always been ourselves— those foolishly distant, and the shortsightedly astute. Our strongest suit is not creating, nor farming; rather, what we excel at is inciting discord and fulfilling selfish desires—we are engraved with this nature in our bones. We are ignorant, arrogant, greedy, selfish. Over these millennia, not once have we truly united, not even after a thousand years will it be so.]
The walls ignited, the bluestone barriers collapsed, and the abyssal monsters surged into the crowd of the fortress people, effortlessly breaking through all lines of defense. The strong heroes rose up against them, blades intertwined with flames and lightning, piercing the monsters’ chests, yet the ugly, savage bodies fell as the heroes also withered, their bodies turning to ash with vacant gazes turned skyward as ominous clouds above only birthed more monsters, claiming even more warriors’ lives.
[But if we truly think that way, it would be a completely erroneous thought.]
Buzz—
Behind the fallen walls, the Saintess Classes were doing their utmost to shower healing holy light over the battlefield, yet still unable to halt the horrific demise. Monsters quickly discerned their position, suddenly diving from the sky, only to be hurled back by a roaring figure: Isaac, powered by the strength of the Undying, bellowed, “Run—”
“You staying here is useless, go!!!”
[We are indeed greedy, selfish; that’s human nature. But at the same time, we are also kind, benevolent, brave, noble. We have strong beliefs worthy of laying down our lives to protect, and that too is human nature, just like what you are doing now. Such courageous warriors who d*e on the Holy Wall—why? In my youth, I had no answer but now I understand it clearly.]
[I believe that you on the battlefield feel the same way.]
“Go, do what you must do!!!!!”
His voice cracked as his commands echoed in defiance, rushing into the Abyss. Margaret was already in tears, unable to articulate her feelings; she just shook her head stubbornly, dragging her weary body, murmuring as she no longer showered healing light over the battlefield. Instead, she summoned her vast natural power, conjuring thick, sharp thorn vines to ensnare the monster that was about to launch a final assault on a Pope Knight.
But she couldn’t stop the creature; the vines were swiftly eroded by the dead smoke, easily torn apart. The monster spat out black snake-like smoke, engulfing the knight with his last, haunting scream.
“Ahhhhh!”
Saint Margaret’s unwilling, furious roar erupted. She had never made such a sound before, feeling an overwhelming rage and sorrow in her chest. Heated, she was about to charge down from the heights and fight those monsters to the d*ath, but her peripheral vision caught sight of more monsters climbing over the hills, one after another, howling this way.
The defenders of the valley fortress were dwindling, many pulling out in a panic, fleeing in despair, the sounds of battle cries rapidly diminishing.
“Why…”
Saint Margaret looked upon everything, tears streaming down her cheeks, whispering.
[I grew up in the Western Continent, ate the rice from the Emerald City, drank the snow wine from Winter City, and wore silks from Ethanbel.]
[I was not born into wealth; this land gave me everything. Like you, I wanted to give back and protect it; I would stake everything for it, even though many things have become unchangeable. If only I were granted one more chance, I would wish to lead you, lead all of you; even if the chance is slim and sure to fail, I want to do something.]
[Perhaps things have already deteriorated so badly that none of us can fix it, but I still feel the need to do something. Because every time such moments arise, there must be groups of people like you who emerge; I hope I can do something—just a little twist of fate, to bring forth more people like this, knowing it may be futile, but I refuse to shrink back. I wish there could be more of such people, just a few more, that could coalesce…]
[Perhaps that would be a force even the deities cannot ignore.]
“JUDGMENT! FIST!”
On the battlefield, the black smoke rampaged, scattered glimpses of holy light ignited and faded. Isaac wrenched his fist from the monster’s deformed head and stood up, letting out a skyward roar, “Do not retreat! Do not fear! My fearless knights, follow in my footsteps, tear them apart…”
His roar abruptly came to a halt as he turned to look around—there were no knights left with him.
“My fearless knights!” He paused for a moment before resuming, “Follow me, be by my side, tear these monsters apart! Who are we—”
The man exploded with fury, his golden light surging, as he leapt like a cannonball toward the now-maimed fortress, amidst the wild winds his voice roared loud, “JUDGMENT! FIST!!!”
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!!!
Golden light erupted, the abyssal monsters stirred at the sound, charging toward Isaac’s nearly invincible figure. The man swung his massively powerful fists, knocking one monster after another into the air, yet overwhelming numbers quickly overwhelmed him, as he was soon engulfed by a tidal wave of dead smoke, his golden light slowly dimming, and his cries gradually fading.
